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igotanidea · 1 year

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No strings attached (3) : neighbor!JT x reader

masterlist

part. 1

part 2

Warning: swearing and innuendos, but nothing explicit, yet....

***

He didn’t really run far that night.

In the first alley he turned into, hoping to get some space away from his brothers he spotted a young woman getting attacked by some very drunk and very aggressive men and it made him cool off instantly once he beaten them off. Not for long though.

“Lena!” some way to familiar voice came from behind and another girl, who apparently did not care that it was the Red Hood in the flesh, came running, pushing him away before getting to her friend.

Y/N.

What was she doing here.

Was she all right?

God, it could have been her getting assaulted….

If so, Jason would probably tear the half of the Gotham down to ease his anger.

“Lena, are you all alright?” Y/N asked her friend, hugging the other girl tightly, checking for any bruises, cuts or other possible damages “I told you not to go outside!”

“I’m…. I’m sorry…..”

“Shit, Len, why can’t you just listen to me for once. You don’t know Gotham, you have no idea how shitty things can get in a matter of seconds……”

“I ….”

“Ekhem….” Jason took the moment to clear his throat and capture the girls’ attention.

“Oh, great” Y/N rolled her eyes “you just have to attract the Red Hood, Len. Why couldn’t it be Nightwing? At least we would know the blue one wouldn’t mock us.”

“Oh, not again” Jason grabbed his chest in the fake pain “why does every single lady in this hell hole dream about Nightwing, huh? Why is there no love for me?” he whined and looked down.

“Go inside, Len. I need to have a word with our underestimated protector.”

“But….”

“Just go.” Y/N pushed her towards the door to the bar and the other girl did not oppose this time. Once she disappeared, Y/N turned towards Jace and sighed deeply. “You probably don’t hear it very often, so thank you, Red. On the behalf of my crazy acquaintance. She’s not from around, not really familiar with the rules even if I told her thousands of times.” She shook her head lightly “Stubborn girl.”

“Seems like someone else I know.” Jason mumbled

“I’m sorry?” Y/N widened her eyes and it made his mind spin again.

“N-nothing, never mind.”

“did you just stuttered?” Y/N smirked in disbelief. “Is Red Hood intimidated by a common girl?”

“Do you want to see the scary version of me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough time for this. Anyway, like I said, thank you for your help. And sorry to bother you, guess you have enough on your plate.”

“I always find some time for pretty ladies.” He smirked under the helmet not that she could see it.

“Right.” Y/N laughed “then I’m definitely not the one you should be talking to.”

Shit. She was just unreasonably good at diminishing herself and it was truly painful.

“Don’t you have any other place to be?” she tilted her head when he still didn’t move, eyes fixed on her face, making her a bit uncomfortable ‘because it’s all fine here and I’d hate to stall you.”

“Yeah, um, right.” He came back to reality, in which she was standing in front of him, not laying underneath, whispering his real name, not the vigilante one. Back from the world, in which she was pulling him in and arching her back to get closer to his body, letting his hands roam all over her curves and not telling him to go away. In which she didn’t need any clothes, even that pretty little outfit she had on at the moment. “You…. you try to stay safe, sunshine, will ya?”

“In Gotham?” she raised an eyebrow “And people say you have no sense of humor, Red. Anyhow, I hope we will never get to meet under similar circumstances.”

“cause you want Nightwing?”

“Cause I don’t want trouble. Trust me, I already got enough of them. “ her eyes became a bit blurry and he started to wonder whether she was now thinking about her unruly neighbor Jason and what exactly was on her mind about him.

Shit, he was getting hard for her again.

“Nevermind. Gotta go scoff my friend for being reckless. You…. don’t get killed, I guess? I’m not really sure what to say as a farewell to a vigilante….”

“That will do.” He smirked again and watched her as she turned around and disappeared inside the bar.

“Who was that?!”

“DAMN IT!” Dick took him completely by surprise by coming so close, without being noticed. In any other circumstances Jason would feel his presence from far away, but seemingly Y/N got him too distracted for that. “what the fuck, Dickhead?”

“Do you know her?”

“It’s not your damn business.”

“She’s pretty you know. And seemingly bold. Couldn’t blame me you for falling for her. “

“I’m not falling for anyone! I don’t do relationships!”

“Right. You’re Mr. no-strings-attached. So, to say the least, you just want to fuck her, don’t you?”

“She’s my freaking neighbor!”

“Oh, I see.” Dick laughed “not ideal, but it can work for you, though. You can always come live in the Manor if something goes wrong. “

“You’re a terrible person” Jason hissed and walked away.

However, secretly, he started to think about what Grayson said. Not living in the Wayne Manor of course, but what if he truly did get what he wanted and then switched places? Could he do that? Was he that desperate to bed her and then leave? That was what he used to after all.

***

Y/N was always the responsible one. The mum of the group. Sticking to the rules, making sure her drunk as skunks friends got home safe. It was how she was. Trying to act mature. Trying to avoid trouble even if sometimes it didn’t seem to work otherwise.

But it was a pain in the ass, since she obviously did not get to have a single drink during the night. Not much fun. So once she drove all the girls homes and made sure they locked the doors behind her, she came across the liquid store that was still open at 5 am. Good thing it was Saturday and she could sleep for as long as she wanted. But before going to bed, she was planning on having a one-person pity party getting wasted in the cosines of her own apartment. Seems like she couldn’t have counted on anything else.

Not that she really minded ,being the person who would rather avoid big crowds. Honestly, she was out tonight only because Lena dragged her out. It was supposed to be a celebration of the success of her newest play. Wonder if she would still consider it a success when upon waking up in the morning the hangover would dominate her mind and body.

Y/N didn’t even wait to get to her apartment when she opened the bottle. She took the first sip while still sitting in the care, not giving a damn about the rules and expectations. Not anymore. Then, taking off her pinching shoes started walking onto her floor, barefoot. When she reached the 6th floor, half of the bottle was already gone and she started getting dizzy. She was always light-headed. And maybe that was why she remembered that her crazy neighbor promised her a wine for help. Might as well do it now, while she was still in her “hot girl shit” phase.

“Todd!” she whispered-yelled, knocking at his door wondering how hard his sleep was and whether she could wake him up “Todd! Open up!”

“What the hell?!” indeed, he did open, but this was not the sight she was expecting to see. It looked like he was just taking a shower (who showers at 5 am on Saturday?!), and was standing in front of her wrapped up only in a towel hanging loosely on his hips. His bare torso was glistening and the angle of the light coming from the hallway routed out all the scars that littered his skin. He however doesn’t seem to care at all. Good choice since her hazy mind was now barely registering what was real and what not. “Y/N?” his voice became concerned and he himself got aware that he was standing half-naked in front of his neighbor.

The neighbor that was making him horny.

Shit.

“Hey, Jason….” she slurred “Never knew you look so good, under all those layers you wear. Damn, not I understand why that …. what was her name again? Maddie? Madison? Whatever…. I get why she is so stuck on you. With that body, damn boy, every girl would love to have you over or under or truly, everywhere” god please let the poor girl forget about all that drunk talk in the morning. If she knew, she would be the one switching places, not Jason. “But….” she staggered before catching her balance “I’m fine, I’m fine” those assurance were not really convincing, but Jason let her continue “I came for that wine you promised me.” She leaned on the doorframe, taking another sip from the bottle

“At 5 am?!” Jason reached inside his apartment grabbing a hoodie and putting it over his head trying to cover himself.

“Why not?” she giggled “I had a party with my girls, you know….. I didn’t really have any fun, so this…” she pointed towards her drink “is a compensation I guess. Might make it two.”

“I think you have enough” he stated and took the bottle from her hands, making her whine and whimper.

Shit again.

She truly was making pretty sounds.

“Give it back to me!”

“No, Y/N.”

“You’re a party pooper, Jason Todd.” She pouted “but if that’s how you are going to play, I guess I just go back to my place and ….”She didn’t get to finish that sentence, suddenly bending down and throwing up on his doorstep. Thank god, Jason’s instincts kicked in and he managed to hold her hair back. “Fuck….” She mumbled “this is so embarrassing ….. I’m sorry….. I’ll clean this up, I promise……”

“Don’t bother.” He shook his head “guess that makes us even, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm….” She muttered sleepily “I’ll be more than happy to start this acquaintance once again. We didn’t have a really good start, did we?” she chuckled

“Will you remember what you just said in the morning?”

“No…..?” she hesitated for a moment, her eyes falling shot and it took a lot of fight to not let them “will you remind me?”

“Sure.”

“I…. I feel sick to my stomach….. I’d better go.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you by yourself in this state” he grabbed her waist gently and pulled her inside.

“Jason Todd, are you trying to get me to bed?” she giggled drunkenly

“You have no idea…..” he hissed, but it was obvious he was not going to use a wasted girl. He needed consent, verbal consent if anything were to happen. He always made sure of that. Otherwise, it would just be sick and beyond any level. He was one-night-stander but not a savage or a rapist, damn it. So instead of letting his mind get consumed by lust he just carried her towards the bathroom and washed her face and forced her to get some water to clear the throat after throwing up. Her skin was just so soft and felt so right when he was touching her face. So smooth and silky it took a lot to not test if her lips were equally supple. But he gritted his teeth and fight the urge.

Before she could even realize what was happening he picked her up, bridal style and carried towards the bed. It was still made since he barely got back from patrol and had no time to mess it up. At least one thing was fixed in that crazy situation. He gently laid her down, but her limbs and her body refused to let him go. Apparently, once the first flirty and funny phase ended she got clingy and childish, wanting hugs and cuddles, even if they were coming from him (if she even knew who him was).

“Jason…..” she whined, when actually managed to free himself from her. Unwillingly, obviously, since he could keep her pressed to him like that for hours. But again, she had to be sober for that. Otherwise, how would she know how good he truly was in bed (yes, it was not only about girls’ safety and consent but also a bit about bragging.)

“Yeah?”

“where will you sleep?”

“Couch.”

“Please, don’t….”

“What?” he froze at the spot. Was she really asking him to lay down with her? In his bed? With her body so close to him? With those flesh for the taking? His body ached for that, his hands started to shake as he imagines all the places they could wonder. Her waist, her belly, her breast…… “NO!” he yelled suddenly, startling her and getting another whimper. Shit, she was going to kill him, involuntarily “you sleep here, I’m taking the couch. Can’t risk you trying to grope me in your sleep with those sleazy hands…..

“Very funny, Todd. Ha, ha….” She trailed, but the sentence was finished only by the little snores and the sound of quiet breathing. “Thank you….” those two words reached him when he was almost out the bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he only responded.

This was going to be a long, sleepless night.

How could he even close an eye, knowing she was right behind the wall.

So fucking close……

@llnellyll

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woah-were-halfway-there · 7 months

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Hey so i need to get this off my chest, i actually had a dream about carson etc and it was carson was feeling sick and so she handed mia off to willy and he had a press interview (ps in Sweden) so he was just holding her doing the interview and a reporter asked about his contract and maybe leaving the team and mia just said no her willys not leaving and held him tighter!!!

Omg stop the way I saw “I need to get this off my chest” and immediately got stressed 🤣 no reason to be after reading the rest of your message hahaha. But please ugh ok like maybe Auston’s off doing something else and Carson’s waiting with Mia for him and Willy is nearby talking with them and just an intense wave of nausea hits Carson and Willy sees that she physically pales and asks if she’s ok and she tries to play it off but she can’t so she asks Willy if he can watch Mia for a moment, which he has no issue doing. He tells her “of course” and then kinda just watches as Carson rushes away to get to the nearest washroom because she’s gonna be sick and like that has Willy a little bit like 🤨 cause clearly something is up and he wonders of Auston knows especially with how she tried to play it off so much. Anyways, he doesn’t ask questions. He’s just happy to help and so he’s chatting with Mia as he holds her and then someone comes along and tells him that they need him to do media asap. And Willy is like “ok ok but can it wait a minute? Carson needed me to watch Mia” and he’s told it can’t wait. So he doesn’t know what to do and asks if anyone knows where Auston or even Mitch, JT or Mo are because taking Mia to media with him doesn’t even cross his mind especially because he knows that Carson and Auston very much so keep Mia’s life private for her and like don’t even post her on social media unless her face isn’t showing or she’s with them or a trusted family member/friend and ofc Willy respects that. So he panics a little bit because he can’t leave Mia with just anyone but none of her guys are near and she’s clung right to him. The person that tells Willy he needs to do media says they can watch Mia but Mia does not want to leave Willy and says “no Wiwee” then hides her face against him and he just doesn’t have it in him to hand her over when she clearly doesn’t want to go and it’s obvious out of everyone around, she’s most comfortable with him. And so he takes a breath and realizes his last option is to take her with him and so he looks down at Mia and says “I really hope your parents don’t hate me for this” then heads to media with her. Mia’s so good during it too, mainly because she gets shy, but when Willy sits down she just stays cuddled against him and quietly observes her surroundings. Naturally, media addresses that not only does he have a child with him, but that he has Auston’s child with him lmaooo and Willy explains the situation that he was watching Mia and couldn’t leave her alone when he was rushed to do media then says “but that’s alright, I don’t mind. You ok, Mia?” And Mia just nods and fiddles with his sweater. She’s not super chatty because she’s a bit unsure of all these people in front of her and Willy but she doesn’t fuss or anything either. Then eventually someone talks about Willy’s contract and how he’s made some meaningful connections in Toronto, they can see that Mia is one of them, and just how he’d feel to leave it behind if contract conversations went south. And Willy starts with saying how much he loves Toronto and the team and the people he has there and then Mia interrupts saying “Wiwee no go” and just snuggles even closer to him and it has Willy SO alarmed because it pulls on the heartstrings so much and he just gives Mia a little squeeze then says how he’s really hoping to find a common ground regarding his contract and he’s just very levelheaded and mature about it. And soon after, he’s done answering questions. By the time he’s away from media, both Carson and Auston are back and Willy immediately apologizes but they cut him off saying they’re not mad, they were brought up to speed on what happened and appreciated the way he still put Mia first in it all and poor Carson feels so bad that he even got put in that situation because she was gonna be sick but Willy assures her that he didn’t mind at all

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maryellencarter · 9 months

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So there's this trope I don't like, and I think I may have finally figured out why.

(It may have a name on TVtropes. I'd be interested to find out.)

So the trope goes thusly. There is a Team. It either does not have an official leader or has been operating without one. It is often, but not always, a ragtag band of misfits thrown into a Situation.

On the Team, there is a Perfectionist. I've only ever seen this trope done with male characters, so the Perfectionist is a he/him in my head and I'm not going to be bothered to edit to they/them throughout, but I'm also really curious if this shows up as a female character archetype and how it differs.

Anyway, the Perfectionist is extremely smart / knowledgeable / skilled, very driven, holds himself and everyone around him to super high standards. At the beginning of the story or the Situation, he's generally the de facto team leader and respected or at least deferred to by most of the others.

There is also an Other Person. This person can take any form, depending on the writer's cultural values and the lesson they would like to teach. I'm thinking of a couple of specific examples, one is an extremely shy bookish child with zero confidence, another is an impulsive himbo. The Perfectionist finds this person very annoying, for a specific reason -- they're too hotheaded, too slow-thinking, whatever; this also is determined by the Lesson to be taught.

(There is furthermore a Rest Of The Team, usually at least two or three other people. For this trope, their only purpose is to exist and need leadership.)

So! The Team is thrown into the Situation. Circumstances eventuate. At some point, the Perfectionist fucks up -- makes the wrong call, gets injured, has a complete mental breakdown and becomes functionally a piece of luggage -- specifically his perfectionism fails him. He stops being perfect or demonstrates that he isn't perfect enough, and this loses him the trust and respect of the Rest Of The Team.

Enter the Other Person. Whatever traits the Perfectionist found most annoying about them are exactly what's needed to save the day! The Rest Of The Team promptly and happily transfers allegiance to the newly realized Destined Leader, and the rest of the Situation runs smoothly, either with the eventual grudging acceptance and cooperation of the Perfectionist (if he gets to learn the Lesson about what qualities are actually valuable along with the audience), or just dragging his now-useless ass along with them.

Tiny JT hated the fuck out of this trope and couldn't articulate why.

As we been knew, of course, I am (or have a strong tendency to be) exactly this kind of hardassed overeducated perfectionist with knowledge applicable to many Situations. I also am (or can be, or was as a small child) a loudly confident extrovert with strong opinions about how to do things.

The message of this kind of story is, I think, *supposed* to be directed at the unconfident or impulsive or whatever-else child who has the supposedly underappreciated characteristics of the Other Person, to teach them that they have value and mustn't allow themselves to be squelched by hardassed perfectionists.

The messages it actually conveys are, approximately, "Perfectionists are annoying everybody hates you" and also "You're doomed to be a fuckup no matter how hard you try" but also "If you just manage to be perfect *enough* and be adaptable to enough Situations and never fuck up then people might like you and respect you" and also "Be very wary of anyone else close to your level because they might be the Destined Leader and fuck you over".

As a matter of fact, I'm a crappy leader, and an even worse teacher. And those *are* to do with me being this type of perfectionist, but not in the way the trope says.

I'm a crappy leader because I know I'm right. I know exactly what to do in a Situation, which is a completely different skillset from being able to communicate to the Rest Of The Team *why* we need to take this approach to the Situation. (Plus, most people who make up a Rest Of The Team in real life *also* think they're the Destined Leader and know exactly what to do in the Situation. It's extremely rare to have more than at most one person on a ragtag band of misfits who actually wants to take direction. This is a big problem in any natural disaster.)

I'm a terrible teacher, both because I'm a genius with a freakishly good memory so I don't have much personal experience with the same kinds of learning struggles as most people, and because I just don't really grok *not* being intensely driven to excel.

You could tell a story about a Perfectionist who learns how to appreciate and even defer to a Leader with better communication skills, or better empathy skills, or even just the ability to lower their standards when having higher ones isn't actively helpful.

You could tell a story about someone like this learning to accept that they're not good at leadership, that they don't even enjoy it, that there's a *place* for them that doesn't have to be on top of the heap -- that they don't actually lose their entire worth or their ability to be respected if they lose that position. That their options aren't just "take charge" or "be a worthless piece of luggage until you learn to submit to someone you consider incompetent on the basis of their past actions".

You could. Hypothetically. I've never seen it done.

#there's a tangent here that i don't think i can fit in #about how only the leadership position gets seen as valuable in so many stories #better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven indeed #but anyway yeah tiny jt would have been a lot happier to have gotten this shit worked out in their mid teens rather than mid thirties

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40sandfabulousaf · 1 year

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大家好! My block leave has been extended from Thursday afternoon to the end of next week. It is longer than planned because after bringing forward 5 days of uncleared leave to next year, which the organisation allows us to do, I had 4.5 days left to use up. It's wonderful not having an alarm interrupting my sleep, not having to rush through my coffee so I can fully savour it and exercising at my own pace. Most wonderful of all is not being stressed out nor frazzled.

蒸水饺和水饺汤 zheng shui jiao, shui jiao tang $11.30

Xmas dinner is on the 13th and my boss as well as colleagues asked if I would attend it. But I've looked forward to this break too much and am too burnt out to go anywhere near the office and be reminded of work again. I did get a gift for MZ (I drew his name) to place under the tree and they'll take turns to retrieve their presents just before the dinner. JT - who's also on leave - and I will get our gifts when we return to the office. Hope MZ likes his sake with gold flakes!

Main, soup and drink combo $9.90++

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Speaking of MZ, we visited the other restaurant which offers value meals. Not only is the price tag of $9.90 for soup, main and a drink friendly on our wallets, they didn't stinge on meat and veggies! We chatted about the opening of the new MRT line, which MZ is thrilled about. The train station is now right below his residence! Public transport is getting more convenient nowadays.

酿豆腐 yong tau foo eaten with rice (rice not pictured) $6.70

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Since we're on the topic of public transport, Pa shared his experience over lunch on Thursday. His car needed major repairs, so he booked a private hire ride to travel to where he needed to go and was horrified by how expensive the fare has become. So he decided to learn how to take a bus and did some exploring for 3 months until his car was ready for collection. He smiled and said it was fun, which piqued my curiosity. Has bus travel improved so much since school days - well I had to find out!

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So I tried taking the bus from my home to catch up with Grace and Douglas yesterday. Pa was right; it was fun. No wonder he smiled at the memories! It was also healthy since I did more walking and we all know the benefits of more exercise. I'll share my experience in the next post. 下次见!

#Youtube

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arsenicpanda · 2 years

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I know racism finds its way into everything but it almost seems like you're using it as a way to strengthen JT's chances against BH. If Jug were to choose who he wants to be with, he wouldn't be thinking of it that way. And if we want the show to be even the slightest bit realistic and logical, the writers can't think that way either. If he wants to be with Tabitha, it won't be because of her race or because he's keeping score on how many times she helped him compared to Betty or someone else. It's ok if you don't like BH anymore but it seems like you're trying to justify your feelings with too much logic and that's not needed. I love BH because they give me fuzzy feelings and JT feels bland. Nothing more and nothing less. It doesn't have to be deep for everyone and we don't need to justify our feelings or prove we're not racists.

You're thinking from a Watsonian perspective, not a Doylist one. There's nothing wrong with preferring bh as a ship; that's not what I'm talking about. Nor am I talking about what the characters' feelings would be if we switched from jt to bh. The characters aren't real people, and they don't make decisions. Writers decide on characters' choices and feelings, and writers invoke tropes that then paint a particular narrative. That is what I am talking about, the writers' choices, the narrative those create, the tropes they engage in.

And "Black woman supports white dude through his journey and trials and tribulations but, once he has gone through all of that and come out the other side as a better, more functional person, he breaks up with her because he's still in love with this white woman who was not involved with that journey at all" is, uh, it's pretty racist as a story, engages in some pretty racist tropes, has some pretty unfortunate implications.

I previously supported the "they beak up mutually and remain good friends, they just didn't work out for X reason" explanation, but idk how to fit "there exists X reason for jt to break up that is not related to Betty" together with "Tabitha repeated the Percival conflict 1384 times and still wants to be with Jughead, meaning that she has not encountered something that makes her want to break up with Jughead". Like, I've got nothing here.

And even in the above scenario that works around the issues of Jughead, a white man, leaving Tabitha, a Black woman, for Betty, a white woman, it still has the problem of how much Tabitha, a Black woman, has supported Jughead, a white man, only for him to end up with Betty, a white woman who (understandably!) did not offer similar support. Like, it's rough, it is rough to work around.

Also, "character A repeats the same events over and over again to save character B, who she loves and is dating and seems to love her back, and eventually pulls it off, but then they don't end up together, and character B ends up with their ex" is pretty bizarre as far as stories go.

I like bh too! You can like what you like! I am not saying that you are racist for wanting your ship together, you want what you want! And maybe, maybe there's a way out of jt that solves all the racist issues without making the narrative jibberish! Maybe I’m just not thinking hard enough! Hey, if they can pull that off, good for them, go for it!

But, as of right now, based on the possibilities that I, personally, can see, I do not see a way out of jt and toward bh without running into those problems. I would love to, trust me, I'd love for each of the ships I like to have a satisfying way to become canon, but right now I've got nothing.

tl;dr I’m not calling YOU racist just because you love bh, I’m saying that the WRITERS are playing a dangerous game and could engage in some racist tropes that would make the NARRATIVE racist.

Now, I’m tired, and I’m not engaging with this further today via anon. If you want to talk narrative, dm me.

#asks #anonymous #Riverdale #Riverdale season 6 #betjug for ts #jugtab for ts #I really shouldn't be engaging here #but I am obsessive about clarifying my points #and I probably won't engage any further ftr #Jughead thankfully offers Tabitha his support whenever he can #and therefore the ship avoids some racist tropes #but that gets skullfucked if he breaks up with her for a white woman #ftr the four out of the show's seven seasons spent on bh is a HUGE problem for narrative cohesion #I'm not dismissing that #I'm just saying that there are bigger and more recent problems than that #my thoughts on Riverdale let me show you them

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Too Close To Home (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: Hi! I'd like to request a Malcolm Bright x reader or OFC story. Malcolm and the reader know each other since a few years. The reader has grown up in an abusive family and also has anxiety. They spend more time together cuz of a case. When the reader gets into danger, Malcolm saves her. He guides her home afterwards. First he doesn't want to come in but then they spend the night together (smutty or not, whatever you prefer). Afterwards they experience the most peaceful sleep they've had in ages :) (by @angelicastiel), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Another case you & your team got to work on. This time, though, the backstory of the killer hit a bit too close to home. Still, you wanted to get the job done & arrest the murderer. There would have been a better, less dangerous way, but you could not change your actions anymore. And maybe you got something out of it. Something you had been wanting for the longest time.

Words: 3,827

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, angst, language, probably spoilers for season 2, father figure!Gil, little kidnapping situation, talks of murder (I mean, it’s Prodigal Son), first time writing for Prodigal Son (even though I do feel kinda confident writing for it, idk…let me know what you think)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Being part of Gil Arroyo’s team was a dream coming true. Your years in college were spent working your ass off in order to end up in a job like that. Not only did Gil give you a place to work, he also took you under his wing. Talking about your past was something you dreaded but somehow you found yourself opening up to him. He knew about your parents & could tell when things started becoming too much for you. Throughout your time at the NYPD, you got closer with your team. Dani & JT had become your best friends. Malcolm, on the other hand, had been a different case. While the two of you sure were friendly with one another, you slowly developed a little crush on the profiler. Who were you kidding? You had the biggest crush, it was kind of embarrassing. Especially because Dani & JT teased the living hell out of you. Luckily, Gil had yet to notice. You did not want to bring private business into your job.

This case had been a tough one. Not only that but it hit too close to home for your liking. The killer you had been looking for left you a letter at the crime scene. It was a man who had been abused by his parents when he was younger. In that letter, he explained why he did what he did. Like, yeah, you came from an abusive household, too, but you were not running around, murdering a what looked like innocent man. Like, chill a bit. Gil pulled you a few feet away from the scene after you all had finished reading. This left Dani, JT & Edrisa alone with looking for more details. Malcolm was still nowhere to be found, even though all of you had tried calling him a couple of times.

“Maybe you should sit this one out.” Gil’s hand was on your shoulder, keeping you an arm’s distance away to take a look at your face. He knew right away that you were thinking about your own parents & sometimes things could be messy if private stuff got mixed up with work stuff. Again the reason why you kept your feelings for Malcolm at bay.

“Gil.” you sighed. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you guys need me.” Gil hated to admit it but you were right. The team was lost without you & nobody knew if your killer was planning another crime while you were inspecting this scene. A voice interrupted your conversation & both, you & Gil, looked at where it was coming from. Would you look at that. Malcolm, everyone. Fashionably late, as always. Why did he have to look so good though? Ugh…

“I heard there was another murder? What have we got?” Malcolm, being his usual self when it came to crime scenes, directed his questions at both of you.

“You would know if you decided to show up sooner.” Gil gave him a tight lipped smile & you could hear the sarcasm in his statement. Yeah, nobody could ever stay mad at Malcolm for a long time. Except maybe JT. But he seemed like he was just pissed off by whatever Malcolm did. That was why they were such great friends.

“The guy left us a letter, kind gesture, right? Edrisa should have it.” your arms crossed over your chest to hide how bad your hands were shaking. The action did not go unnoticed by Malcolm, though. He could tell you were uncomfortable. Your anxiety seemed even worse than usually. It was not like you ever opened up to Malcolm about your struggles. You had found it hard to talk about your feelings, even when you talked to Gil. But since Gil had become some sort of father figure to you, you found it a little easier to open up to him. The thing was that Malcolm was working even when he was not working. Which meant that he was profiling others even outside of work. It was not hard to notice your trembling hands, your bouncing legs, your struggle to keep eye contact. He could tell that your anxiety was bad. Most days, you hid it rather well, he had to give you that. A normal person would have never noticed anything wrong with your behavior. Malcolm, though, knew better & while he did not know what had happened to you in the past, he knew you were struggling nevertheless. But he could worry about you another time, for now, he had to focus on the crime scene.

As Malcolm walked over to where Edrisa was standing, you pulled at Gil’s hand, motioning him to follow you. Edrisa handed over the letter & explained briefly what they had found so far. You knew what was about to come. As did everyone else, so you quieted down & let the profiler do his job.

“Our dear murderer wrote the letter after he killed James here. The ink is too fresh & some of the letters are smudged. The printer in the office was still running when you got here, right?” this earned him a nod from Edrisa. “No fingerprints, though, he was smart enough to wear gloves. Which brings me to my assumption that he had planned this long beforehand. The bruises show that he was strangled & while we still have to wait for the autopsy, I’m almost entirely sure that he was killed because of that. I believe the stab wounds were caused after he died. The way his words were written sounds way too passionate for an accident. No, this guy, he was enjoying it. If it were an accident, he would have left the scene way sooner. But he took the time to type a letter & print it, to complete his mission by laying it right on top of our victim’s chest.” Malcolm finished & looked around to find everyone rolling their eyes except for you. Whenever he started rambling & piecing evidence together, you simply stood there mesmerized. This time was not different. His eyes met yours & he shot you a little smile which you copied.

“Anything else you wanna tell us? Like, why you’re way too excited about this entire thing?” JT spoke up. You gave him a little slap & chuckled.

“Don’t act like it’s something new.” laughing when you looked at his face.

“Okay, guys. Wrap it up here, we need to continue this at the precinct.” Gil’s authority voice came through & you all knew better than to mess with him.

Malcolm, Dani & JT were already in one of the offices when you & Gil came in. Usually, you asked Gil to take you everywhere, mostly because you got rather shaky during cases & you did not trust yourself enough to drive on your own. Gil told you he did not mind at all.

“Found anything useful?” you asked when you entered & looked over JT’s shoulder to make out what he was doing on his laptop. Malcolm stood at the front of the room, right in front of the whiteboard & was too busy sorting his thoughts to even notice you. Dani told you that they had no luck just yet & soon you found yourself helping them with research, something you were incredibly good at. Gil had left for a while but when he got back, he brought each of you a cup of coffee, knowing it was bound to be a long night without much rest. Being the stubborn person that you were, you declined his request of you calling it a night & heading back home. You were onto something & could not stop right now. Gil let the topic die down with a long sigh. The five of you spent the entire night looking for clues & connections & by the time the sun started rising, you had a plan filed out to catch the killer.

After hours of research, mostly from you, you found out that the victim had very wealthy parents. Parents who loved their kid like nothing else. Parents who would do anything for their kid. Checking his social media profiles, you could tell that he was not silent about his wealth or the love he felt for his parents. “Enough to get our killer started.” Malcolm had said. It took you a while but after checking James’ classmates, you had a suspect & after checking his social media accounts, you knew where you had to go to catch him. Sometimes, things could be so easy, so clear to see. Probably a bad idea to expect you were right with everything but you had a good feeling. Yet, you could not quite understand how someone could kill just because of envy. Just because they did not have what someone else did.

Your suspect spent almost all of his evenings in a local pub, not too far away from the precinct. It was a small pup, not a lot of people, but since it was Friday, you expected it to be filled tonight.

“Why does (Y/N) have to be bait again?” Malcolm asked after discussing the plan yet another time.

“Because she looks more like a guest of a pub like that. You would be out of place, so would Dani & JT.” Gil reasoned. He did not like the idea either but it was probably the best shot they had.

“Right, because if I make an effort I can actually look like an alcoholic. Is that what you’re saying?” despite your chuckle, you found yourself growing more & more nervous. Malcolm noticed right away, didn’t comment on it though.

“What I’m saying is that we all want this asshole locked up & I don’t want you to look like an alcoholic. I want you to go there as if you just got done with work for the day. Take a seat at the bar. We’ll be connected with you this entire time, we’ll hear your conversation. Wait a little & if he doesn’t approach you then you will. Understood?” Gil looked around the room, kept his focus on you, though, & when you nodded he told you all to head off & get this party started.

“You’re nervous.” you flinched when you heard a voice beside you. Malcolm. Of course.

“I’m not. Just preparing myself.” you did not mean to sound this harsh but he did not really pay attention to that.

“So your shaking hands are a form of preparation?” he teased but you could not focus on his way of calming you right now. Your anxious mind was killing you.

“Look, Mal, I need to go, okay? We’ll talk later.” & before he even had the chance to answer, you were sprinting off.

Ordering a strong drink at the bar in the hopes of it calming your nerves, you tried acting as if you did go out every night. In fact, you were highly uncomfortable. Crowds made your anxiety act up & pubs were usually worse. Drunk people wanting to get laid or whatever. It just was not your world. Anyway, you had better things to focus on. Your suspect had already walked up to the bar & took, much to your dismay, a seat too far away from you to start an actual conversation. Quickly informing your team, an idea popped into your head. He would start taking an interest in you if you got him to grow envious. So without overthinking, you grabbed your phone from your purse & pretended dialing someone.

“Hi mom! How are you?” as much as it hurt saying those words, you felt accomplished when you noticed the suspect’s eyes on you. “Great, as always! We still on for lunch tomorrow?...Perfect! Actually, I wanted to thank you for the purse you got me! I found the package earlier today, you are crazy. That’s way too much.” if it were not for your job at the NYPD, you would make one hell of an actor. Deep down, your heart was breaking a little more with each word you said. “Oh? I’m your favorite daughter? I’m your only daughter, mom, but thanks.” you gave a genuine, or at least you hoped it sounded genuine, laugh & continued. The man had already made his way over to you & took the empty seat next to you. You had him, not fully but almost. Just keep going, you thought to yourself. “Tell dad I miss him, too! I’ll make sure to meet up with him soon. A much needed father-daughter weekend. It has been too long…Alright, I love you too, bye.” you ended your call & placed the phone back into your purse. Gil would kill you after you finished this case. Once again you were improvising but at least it got you here, sitting next to a possible killer. Possible killer? No, you knew it was him. He made it rather obvious after that fake phone call. Thinking about what you had just said on the phone got cut short by the man beside you speaking up.

“Sounds like a nice mom.” a drink in his hand, his gaze not focused on you but on the liquid in his glass.

“Oh, she’s the best. I’m lucky to have her. Same goes for my dad.” these words hurt so bad & if you were not so focused on arresting this asshole you would have started breaking down right in the middle of this bar.

“I’m Enrico, by the way.” he held out his hand for you to shake which you did.

“(Y/N).” faking another smile at him, you were surprised that your silly plan actually seemed to work. This dude was desperate. And it made him extremely dangerous.

“(Y/N), wanna head out & catch some fresh air? This pub is filling up.” he placed money on the counter, paying for not only his but also your drink. Thanking him, you got up. When his hand grabbed yours, you slightly flinched but did not pull away. The thought of your team waiting outside with handcuffs made you breathe easier. Arriving outside did not exactly put your mind at ease. Where was your team? Just when you wanted to turn around, you felt a strong grip around your waist & a cloth being held in front of your nose & mouth. There was not even enough time to scream before you were met with darkness.

Loud voices woke you up. A gunshot. Shit, why could you not move? Where the fuck were you? Looking down at your wrists, you saw them being chained tightly to a chair. Suddenly, a person was kneeling in front of you & you were surprised to find Gil helping you out of the chains. His mouth was moving but your heartbeat was too loud to make out any other noises.

“Have you got him?” Gil rolled his eyes at your question but soon after, nodded. This could have ended badly for you & he was just happy to see you alive & breathing.

“You hurt?” this time his voice was more serious. He looked you over but besides the bruises on your wrists, you seemed fine. Shaking your head no was enough for him to drop it for now.

“That was stupid, (Y/N). We could’ve walked in there & just arrested him in that damn pub. Why did you think it was a good idea to start this whole pretending thing?”

“Could we please not do this today, Gil? I’m tired.” you felt ashamed, embarrassed that you did not handle the situation better. Usually, you were way more careful when it came to other cases. You could not even tell why you thought you needed to act out an entire scene. It felt like the right decision at the time.

“Malcolm? Come over here.” Gil decided to let you rest for tonight but he sure as hell would teach you a lesson tomorrow. He could not have another person risking everything & acting irresponsible. He already had Malcolm. No need to have another one like him.

“(Y/N)? Oh, thank God.” Malcolm came jogging over to where you & Gil were. A small smile started forming, signaling that you were fine.

“Take her home with you. She shouldn’t be alone tonight.” & with that he left you & Malcolm alone.

Two hands came into view & you let yourself be pulled up into a standing position. Malcolm still held onto you since your legs were on the verge of giving out. After a few seconds, though, you felt steady enough & thanked him for helping you. Without another word, he took your hand in his & dragged you outside to his car. Any other day, you would have blushed like crazy but your exhaustion was overpowering your crush. Malcolm opened the passenger side for you & helped you in. Then, he got around to the driver’s side. His body turned towards you & when you noticed that the car still had not been started, you found Malcolm staring at you. Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. After a long pause & a deep breath of his, Malcolm’s voice broke the silence in the car.

“That was-“

“Stupid, I know. Gil already told me.” usually, you would have sounded sarcastic but tonight, you did not have the strength to try & act like you were fine. Because if you were honest, everything that had happened got you thinking. Not that you could have died but everything that had happened with your parents. How awful they treated you. How abusive they were. Not trying to start another conversation, Malcolm started the engine & drove up to his apartment. Gil’s order, after all. Though, he had to admit that he liked the idea of you being close to him. Hell, he could have lost you today. He could have lost you & you still had no idea about his feelings for you. Simply because he was too much of a coward when push came to shove.

The car ride was silent & the tension could have been cut with a knife. Once or twice you almost started talking, wanting to explain yourself. Why you were so exhausted. It was not the first time you got close to death but it was certainly the first time where your past came catching up. Each time, though, you chickened out.

“I’m sorry.” it was you who spoke up first when you entered Malcolm’s apartment.

“What for?” Malcolm turned his focus back to you.

“I made this case unnecessarily hard for you guys. I should’ve handled it better. It’s just…this thing with this fake phone call, it was…fuck, how do I say this?” the last part you mumbled to yourself but when Malcolm spoke up again, you knew he had heard you.

“It’s okay. Gil told me about your parents. I get it, I do. I probably would’ve done the same thing & then it would’ve been you & Gil telling me I was stupid.” you chuckled lightly & Malcolm was happy that you were not mad at him for knowing about your past. He had been aware of your struggles before, now he could finally tell where they were coming from.

Strangely, you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, now that Malcolm knew. At least you knew he would never judge you, he had his own…familial issues after all. Tears started forming in your eyes & you tried blinking them away angrily, frustrated that you were losing it now even though the situation had been dealt with.

“Come here.” Malcolm opened his arms & you gladly accepted the invitation. Throwing yourself onto him like your life depended on it. His arms wrapped strongly around you. Not in an uncomfortable way, more like in a comforting way. The two of you simply stood in the middle of his apartment, not saying anything, he let you cry it all out & in that moment, it was all you needed.

“Thank you. Sorry for messing up your shirt.” a quiet laugh escaped you. It was not much but it was a good start.

“It’s no problem, really. Here, I’ll bring you some clothes to sleep in, I’m sure you don’t wanna sleep in work clothes?” Malcolm opened one of his drawers & grabbed a basic t-shirt & some sweatpants. Not much but definitely way more comfortable than what you were wearing right now. This was not your first time being at Malcolm’s home so you helped yourself & moved into his bathroom to take a quick shower & change into his clothes. It only took you about ten minutes, you were craving sleep.

“You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Malcolm was setting up his couch to sleep on when you came out of the bathroom.

“Nope, forget it. I wont let you take that couch.” you argued.

“Hey, it’s a comfortable couch!” he defended his way too expensive piece of furniture.

“What about your restraints?”

“Don’t need them when you’re around.” Malcolm let slip without much thought. Only when you tilted your head & raised your eyebrows did he realize what he had just said. “I mean…I don’t know. I’m usually much calmer when I’m with you.” It was funny to see Malcolm trying to explain himself. He was embarrassed but you were putting a stop to it right away.

“Okay, so I guess it would help even more when you’re right next to me, am I right? Your bed is big enough, Mal.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & soon you found yourself laying on one side of the bed while Malcolm was occupying the other.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved or said anything. The silence was not uncomfortable, the situation was still new for the both of you. Yet, you knew what you wanted. What you needed. So you grabbed one of Malcolm’s hands, turned around & let his arm fall around your waist. This action caught him off guard but he relaxed into the new position quickly. While the both of you still had not confessed, this felt like a step into the right direction. You felt safe in his embrace & knew you could be your true self with him. No hiding whatsoever. That thought made you smile. Exhaustion soon took over but the last words you heard before falling into a peaceful slumber were: Sleep well, (Y/N). I’ve got you. Afterwards, he pressed a light kiss on your shoulder & fell asleep himself. Tonight, your struggles could be forgotten. At least for a few hours until morning came around. Then, you still had enough time to deal with whatever was happening between you & Malcolm. Tomorrow, you could deal with your past some more. But right now, all you wanted was to have a peaceful night & Malcolm could give you just that.

Published (03/25/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fandom-queen67, @cons-tit-ution, @where-thesundoesntshine, @itsanemu0101, @chill-fangirl, @angelnyx, @octopus5555, @the-unknown-fan-girl (thanks for your support <3 - sorry if I tagged you mistakenly/please let me know if I did)

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fuckyeahprodigalson · 3 years

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SPOILERS!

After spending all season covering up Nicholas Endicott’s (Dermot Mulroney) death, criminal profiler Simon Hoxley (Alan Cumming) came to New York on the PRODIGAL SON spring premiere, determined to get to the bottom of the murder. But luckily for Bright (Tom Payne)—and the Whitly family—a link in the chain of people he used to dispose the body ended up being their possible salvation: after one of his connections snapped and killed the other people who transported the corpse, Bright was able to spin a theory that she killed Endicott, too.

With that wrapped up, Hoxley also left—after Bright convinced Ainsley (Halston Sage) to sit down with the Mind Sleuth for a one-on-one interview—and the Whitly family celebrated their narrowest escape yet.

But…are they really in the clear?

PRODIGAL SON co-creators Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver tease what’s to come…

They got away with it! In your mind, is the Endicott case closed or are you leaving that door open for the future? Sam Sklaver: Bright has done a very nice job of [tying things up]. But when we were, early in the season, talking to our one of our advisors who specializes in serial killers, and we said, “What’s the best way to get away with a murder?” And he told us no body, no murder. And the problem is there is an Endicott body.

So I’d like to think that Bright and the Whitlys have gotten away with it…but history always has a way of catching up with the Whitly family. So I think it might just be one more thing to haunt them in the future. I can’t say that anything in the past will ever just stay in the past.

Is this something you’re looking to play with later in the season, or is that more something that might get explored in later seasons? Chris Fedak: We’re going another direction for this season. We have a couple of really exciting things coming up. For Endicott this year, we always like to have twists and turns—[Joking] and you should never trust us, let’s be honest, Sam and I are terrible, terrible liars—but we’re about to depart on a new journey of suspense…we have some new stuff coming up.

At the end of the episode, Martin (Michael Sheen) and Vivian (Catherine Zeta-Jones) kiss—which certainly does not seem like it’s destined to go well, frankly, for either of them. What’s in store for that dynamic going forward? Sklaver: You hit the nail on the head. I think most people who enter The Surgeon’s life, it usually makes their life not better, but worse. Vivian Capshaw is finding herself within The Surgeon’s gaze. So, I am nervous for her. I’m 100% nervous for her. I’m also nervous for her just because we’ve really grown to love Catherine; she’s so amazing on set. And just as a person and with the actors and with our crew—I’m terrified for her; I’m with you 100%. [Laughs.]

Should we be a little bit worried for him, as well? We know he’s dangerous, but she, in theory, does have the bulk of the power in this situation. She seems to be calling a lot of his BS and has been manipulating him, as well… Fedak: I think that’s a really smart perspective on it—she’s no wilting violet. She’s a strong, smart, very sophisticated woman who has a taste for the bad boys—and by which I mean serial killers. So it’s definitely a place where she knows how to to use her authority within Claremont to protect herself and to also keep things from coming out. That’s something that Martin has to be careful of, because he is a patient at Claremont, he is under her thumb, in a way.

Earlier in the season, we got to see Dani (Aurora Perrineau) and Bright coupled up, albeit in his twisted dream state. How much will we be seeing him examine his feelings for her in the rest of season 2? Fedak: We’re exploring the Dani-Bright relationship. [Episode] 6 was a great opportunity for us to remind the audience of it to kind of launch the second half of our season, with an idea of exploring who they are and can these two ships ever come together, or are they doomed? As we head into this side of the season, you’re definitely going to be getting more of Dani and Bright. And, also, like everybody in our show, he needs somebody to talk to. And I think that so often he hasn’t been able to talk to anybody this season because 1) Nicolas Endicott, and then 2) we’ve got something that’s going to kind of bind the whole team together. It’s coming up and it’s going to be huge. The enormity of this event is going to cause everybody to seek refuge and to seek help. And for Bright, that’s going to require him to talk to Dani. Sklaver: The events of episode 6 definitely left a mark in Bright’s mind. And so he is seeing Dani in a different way, which is very exciting for us. You just hope that life doesn’t get in the way, as it often does of his family.

What can you share about this very big event? Fedak: It has something to do with The Surgeon and his plans.

Is this something where fans will retroactively realize the seeds you planted for this story, will it come out of nowhere, or a mixture of the two? Fedak: I think that it is something that we’ve been laying the seeds for for quite some time. Sklaver: And I think it will shock everyone. I think we’ve been laying the seeds for it and it will shock everyone. Fedak: It’s also the second book of the Old Testament. [Laughs.]

Which is Exodus…Should we be expecting to see Martin, potentially, in a different situation than we’ve seen him the first year and a half? Fedak: Let me be even more cryptic: We’ve done a lot of testing hair color for Martin. We’re doing some interesting things.

Intriguing. On another note, how much will JT’s struggles with the force play into what’s ahead? Fedak: I don’t think it’s so much a matter of putting anything off. We brought some very important issues into episodes. And, for us, we ran into a couple of things having to do with production, that kind of changed our plans a little bit in regards to how we filmed the show. But none of those stories have been completed.

For us, our perspective is we want to tell a story that gets into the emotion and the reality of what our characters are going through, especially JT and Dani in regards to that story. We’re not playing out a story where we’re going to solve racism; that would be a not great [or realistic] story. But I think that what we’re going to show as we head toward our finale, and going forward in the show, is that these are a long tail, and that this story that we started here is something that we are going to be playing out in the future.

But it’s not the type of thing that can fit in 13 episodes of television. This story will work more like, this is a part of their lives, and it will come in and out. And it will affect them. And I think we’re going to come at that a little bit differently than we would, say, dealing with our Big Bad of a season or something along those lines.

Looking ahead to the finale, you had a very clear point set for season 1. With production so in flux this year, were you able to be as firm with where you end up at the end of season 2? Or did it have to be more flexible? Sklaver: It’s a mixture of the two things. We’re always flexible, because we always need to be flexible. But we have a very explosive finale, that actually we’ve already shot—we shot it last week. So once again, because of our scheduling, we have a finale, hopefully in the can already. And now we just need to catch up with other episodes. It’s very much the story we did set out to tell that season. And similar to our last finale, it really just sets up an amazing season 3 storyline that we’re getting very excited to tell, fingers crossed.

Fantastic. Is there anything else you can tease about the rest of season 2? Fedak: What happens is that when we get to this point in the season, we have episode 8, which is just amazing and fun, and then we just have a lineup of really crazy episodes. Each one that’s coming your way has just more outrageous stuff in it; it just doesn’t stop until we get to the end of the year. So it really is a ramp, starting with this episode, and it just launches into the second half of the season, and it drives right to the finale. It’s almost too much stuff. We’re really looking forward to the audience watching our madness brought to life.

#prodigal son #prodigal son spoilers #tom payne #michael sheen #Catherine Zeta-Jones #martin whitly #malcolm bright #vivian capshaw #Chris Fedak #sam sklaver #interview #whoa

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

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Sun and Fun (S2, E12)

I can’t believe FOX has cancelled this absolute masterpiece of a show. I’m devastated. I’d like to think we’ll get picked up by another network for season 3 but I’m a pessimist and I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ll be hanging around the fandom either way though.

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:20 - Malcolm losing it in Martin’s cell? *chef’s kiss*. 1) excellent performance by Tom. 2) This is the Malcolm mental health content I subscribed for. This is Malcolm feeling overwhelmed, helpless, worthless, and frustrated all at the same time. This. Is. Wonderful. And. Realistic. This is what overwhelming anxiety (especially if you have an anxiety disorder) can feel like. It builds and builds until all of a sudden you’re consumed with all this nervous energy and frustration and it all turns to rage in an instant. But you’re not angry at other people. You don’t want to hurt anyone. That rage is just self hatred because you hate that you feel this broken and your stupid brain won’t function normally.

0:33 - annnnd then when the excess nervous energy is spent but that feeling of self-hatred, despair, and fear still remains - you’re physically exhausted and 7/10. times you cry. Again, crying because of how stupid you feel for your little rage outburst, for how stupid you feel for feeling this terrible all the time. Malcolm is depicting a severe anxiety episode perfectly (in my experience) and THIS is why FOX is moronic for cancelling the show. The gorgeous and accurate depictions of mental health in Prodigal Son is unprecedented, truthful, and heartbreaking. It’s like nothing else on television.

0:50 - This kind of hurts. Look at how cautiously Dani enters the room. Almost as if Malcolm is a wild animal she doesn’t want to scare. It makes sense given the state of the room she just entered and how completely openly and uncharacteristically vulnerable Malcolm is. I will say this though, despite how cautious she is, it’s obvious that she cares about Malcolm more than whatever happened before she walked into the room.

1:03 - “So all eyes are on his head case son right?” This line is a direct quote from Malcolm’s anxiety disorder and depression. This is how you feel about yourself when in the middle of an anxiety episode when you’re also depressed. BUT OUR GIRL DANI!!! <3 This girl looks confused and concerned to hear Malcolm diss himself like that. The fact that she tries to comfort him when he’s in this state, makes her an absolutely A++ friend.

1:11 - “No one cares about that.” “I CARE. I can’t live like this.” This scene resonates with me so so so much. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been 100% aware of how irrational my anxieties are and simultaneously 100% unable to do a damn thing about it because I’m too scared of who I’d be without the fear. Because I’ve defined myself by my anxieties for so long that it’s become the only definable element of my personality visible to me. I’m getting that vibe from Malcolm. I’m sure that’s exactly how he’s feeling right now.

1:30 - “That’s not what scares you. What scares you is living the rest of your life without your father in it.” Dani knows and I felt personally called out. THIS EMOTIONAL WHUMP IS GIVING ME LIFE. <3

1:39 - Look at our floppy haired, devastated boy. :( <3 I’m genuinely shook that he didn’t have a full mental breakdown this episode (but it’s coming....it’s inevitable at this point :) ). ALSO the look of absolute love and concern Dani is shooting towards Malcolm? Absolutely perfect. <3

1:51 - I genuinely find it so interesting that Malcolm keeps referring to “The Surgeon” as “Martin”. If you read my thoughts on 2x11 you know I think it’s because Malcolm has separated ‘Martin Whitly’ into three separate people in his head. “The Surgeon” = the serial killer who traumatized him and ruined his childhood. “Dad/Father” = the man who loved and cared for baby!Malcolm. But “Martin” = unknown. Malcolm doesn’t know who Martin is yet and it scares him.

1:58 - “For once in your life slow down and acknowledge what this is doing to you.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love this line. So. So. SO. MUCH. <3 <3 This is the kind of comfort Malcolm needs. SOMEONE needs to tell him that he’s breaking, it’s not his fault, and he doesn’t deserve to suffer for Martin.

2:07 - annnnnnd Malcolm has gone full crazy-person string murder board. He’s right but he’s still acting like a manic crazy person. Like, a real one. Not his usual manic behaviour. This is straight up - this boy needs medication, a nap, therapy, and a doctor. Now.

2:34 - Ugh. This whole cop/Vivian scene made my skin crawl. So gross. So creepy. I hate Capshaw. So much. This woman is manipulative, evil, and so so creepy. The cop was also gross. But I 100% thought she was going to kill the cop because this felt like an opening scene to Criminal Minds.

4:38 - “THEY WERE HAVING SEX.” hhahahahahahaha holy shit. This is both hilarious and really upsetting (not just because Martin/Capshaw is NASTY). Malcolm is manically, yelling about his theories in a room full of people who love him. He sounds crazy. He’s acting crazy and Dani, JT, and Gil are just staring at him with a mixture of disbelief, concern, and sympathy. <3 It’s heartbreaking. Malcolm is an inch away from a mental breakdown. I’m here for it.

4:49 - “TMI bro.” <3

5:05 - Ugh. This breaks my heart. The team doesn’t think Malcolm is crazy. They just know he’s at the end of his rope. The looks they’re exchanging aren’t based in anger, contempt, or a lack of trust. They’re based in concern and I LOVE IT.

5:21 - LOOK AT OUR BABY. He’s breaking. He’s so close. :( Look at how desperate he is to find Martin.

5:35 - “That’s exactly what it means.” “Gil, please. You know how much I need this.” THIS HURTS. Gil isn’t angry here - he’s frustrated and scared for Malcolm. And Malcolm? This boy is toeing the line of a full breakdown in front of 3 of his favourite people - that’s out of character for him. Despite the shaking hand and general mania - Malcolm usually refrains from raising his voice in front of Dani and JT. He tries to stay calm-ish so he doesn’t get labelled as ‘violent’ like his serial killer father.

5:39 - “StOp. I am scared.” Dani knew exactly how to diffuse the situation. Malcolm can be manipulative and dysfunctional but he never wants to scare people (at least, not unless they’re suspects or obstructing justice).

5:46 - “I’m not ordering you this time. I’m begging you.” Papa!Gil’s seen Malcolm like this before. SO WHY IS NO ONE HUGGING MALCOLM?!?! The boy is clearly coming apart at the seams.

5:48 - Malcolm’s reaction to Gil sending him home is gorgeous. He looks sad, betrayed, and resigned. It’s as though he’s convinced himself that the team doesn’t trust him or care about him anymore. He doesn’t walk out angry. He walks out sad and determined. Head held high but eyes full of grief.

5:54 - I’d give anything to have heard the conversation between Dani, JT, and Gil after Malcolm left the room. ANYTHING.

6:02 - “He thinks I’m a liability.” No. Not exactly. He thinks Malcolm is in the throws of a mental health crisis and that he shouldn’t be responsible for catching his serial killer father. Again.

6:15 - “I support Gil’s decision. That does not mean I want your father dead.” #coparenting but also, true. I honestly don’t think Jessica wants Martin dead. I think she wants Ainsley and Malcolm to be happy and free from Martin but not dead. She knows that Malcolm might never recover from Martin’s death with all of his unanswered questions and suppressed childhood trauma. She also knows that Ainsley would always resent being prevented from bonding with her father. I think Jessica still loves Martin - well, the man she thought she married. Jessica doesn’t care for Martin Whitly. But she loves the man he pretended to be and even though she knows he wasn’t real - she doesn’t want him to die. I think she wants him to disappear (maybe get transferred to a prison in a different state?) but she doesn’t want him dead. That would make her no better than the serial killer (in Jessica’s mind anyways).

6:25 - “You have become consumed by this Malcolm.” Check out the side eyed look Ainsley gives Malcolm. She’s jealous. Her brother is on the verge of a mental breakdown but she’s jealous of the attention he’s getting from Jessica. I get it - Jessica hasn’t been the best mom to Ainsley. BUT GIRL, gain some perspective. Don’t you care about your brother?!?! That should trump the jealousy for a few minutes at least.

6:35 - “I love you.” <3 <3 <3 I’m going to cry. This might be my favourite Jessica+Malcolm moment to date. So precious.

6:43 - THIS. “I love you. Both of you. More than I hate him.” This is why Jessica doesn’t want Martin dead.....but she also doesn’t care if he lives. I know that sounds like a contradiction but it’s a real thing and if you’ve never felt that way about someone - I pray you never have to.

7:06 - “Then she’s a victim.” .....I disagree. Capshaw had a (weird and manipulative) consensual relationship with Martin. She has as much of an agenda as Martin (although, Jessica didn’t know that here). Capshaw isn’t a victim. She’s not being compliant with Martin as a form of self-preservation or fear. She’s doing it because she’s a manipulative crazy person who is in love with a convicted serial killer.

7:45 - I’ve never felt this unsettled while watching Prodigal Son. Capshaw showing her true colours is so so so disturbing. This woman is insane (with all the stigma). The dress. The martini (Jessica’s favourite drink?). The fact that she dressed Martin up in a suit. The music. The weirdly elegant wheelchair. The lovey way she’s talking. It all makes my skin crawl.

8:33 - OMG. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel bad for Martin Whitly?!?!?!

9:55 - JESSICA AND MALCOLM doing a rich person ambush tag-team IS AMAZING. <3

9:57- How sad is this? 23 years and Jessica still can’t walk into a room without people whispering and judging her behind her back. :( This woman keeps her head held high - despite the pain she must be in - she’s a superhero. Change my mind.

10:30 - "Malcolm Whitly? You're.." I have this headcanon that the general public assumes Malcolm is dead. He changed his last name and fell off the grid. People treat Jessica like a social pariah so she wouldn't be able to tell them otherwise. And sure, Ainsley referred to Malcolm in the present tense during her Surgeon interview but how many people actually watched it actually paid attention to that little tidbit after Martin went full blown psychopath on camera? Plus, no one really cares about the Surgeon's son enough to look him up 23 years later. At least, no one who matters.

11:25 - Like mother, like son. You can't change my mind. They have the same manipulation style. It's justice based and determined. Ainsley and Martin's style? Vindictive and self-serving.

11:30 - Oh look. ANOTHER CONTINUITY ERROR. WHO PROOFREADS THESE SCRIPTS?!? I CAN’T KEEP OVERLOOKING THESE. For God’s sake. Send copies of the script to fans who sign NDAs or something. At least we know what happened in previous episodes.

12:33 - "Gross." I'm with Ainsley on this one.

12:45 - "My assistant." "Long suffering". hahahha omg. I love this for two reasons: 1) it's hilarious 2) it's true. Malcolm literally disposed of a body for Ainsley. He's her assistant and he's suffered for it.

13:05 - Yo. This dude is whack. Like this is some serious Stockholm's syndrome going on here. Vivian is his hero?!? .........I can't.

13:55 - Why do the gifts Vivian sends Zeiger look like human bones? Damn this is twisted. This is like some sort of twisted serial killer pseudo-trophy situation?

14:52 - "I don't think Vivian is the victim here. I think our father is." Yikes. This is not going to help Malcolm's mental stability. At all. He's been trying to fully accept that his father is a serial killing monster who was literally never capable of loving him for the past 23 years. BUT NOW our boy has taken the role of 'good son' (prodigal son is you will) and has returned to his 10 year old mentality "I love dad. Dad loves me." and 'dad' is in trouble. Malcolm is trying to save his serial killer father and the emotional and mental hoops he's jumping through are terrifying, complex, and hauntingly realistic. <3 It's gorgeous.

15:04 - "I'm not used to this type of confinement." I love this line because of how deeply it rings true. Martin isn't used to confinement. Sure, he's been chained to a wall for 23 years but he's been relatively happy about it. He's been able to manipulate Malcolm and the other inmates. He's been given TV time, phone time, consultations, books, music, free food, and a massive private cell (seriously that cell is as big as the bachelor's suite I rent for $900 CAD a month). The man has been living a life of luxury (given his crimes). His only 'punishment'? He's stuck inside his cell and he's not allowed to kill anymore. THIS is Martin truly suffering. I kind of feel bad for him (which I never thought I'd say).

15:20 - Damn. Michael Sheen is incredible. He's genuinely making me feel concerned and scared for Martin.

15:32 - Something tells me a man hurt Capshaw in some way throughout her life. This has to be deeper than the whole "I didn't fit into the 'boys club' of surgery". Her issues with men are aggressive and alarming. This woman is nuts. This woman is why I hesitate to call myself a feminist (I generally think we should drop the titles of feminist/misogynist/racist/homophobe... and just treat people with respect. I think the titles and groups just further divide people.)

15:50 - "You're finally free." Yep. Capshaw is a nutcase. She actually believes that she's committed a perfect crime.

16:09 - This place has virtually no furniture but I’m expected to believe someone is paying the phone bill?!?! Nah.

17:08 - That. Smile. This woman is a devil. Like, I think I hate her as much as I hate Umbridge. But unlike Umbridge, Capshaw is downright terrifying.

17:12 - Was anyone else kind of surprised that Martin called Jessica? I mean, I guess she was a safer choice than the cops but still...

17:20 - As creepy and this whole ‘Martin is a victim’ thing is - it’s kind of nice? Like - I just keep thinking “How does it feel Martin?!?! This is how you made your victims feel. Do you like it?” and then I realize I’m a terrible person.

17:55 - Ainsley’s in on this. I swear, she’s somehow involved with either Capshaw or Martin.

18:18 - Oh look. Martin is shackled to the bed. Just like Malcolm shackles himself to bed so he can sleep every night. .....I keep oscillating between being vindictive toward Martin and feeling bad for him. That’s what makes this show incredible. The ‘villain’ is human and 3 dimensional.

18:44 - Oh God. The psychopath is jealous. This woman is UNSTABLE. How has no one locked her up yet?!?

19:43 - She’s crying. She’s actually crying. Even the rewatch of this scene is painful. I just feel so uncomfortable (which was probably the intent) and I hate both characters. They’re both actively trying to manipulate each other and it’s so creepy. Damn.

20:15 - Holy. Shit. This woman is by far the scariest villain Prodigal Son has given us.

21:17 - ..............I have nothing to say. My brain has short circuited. I can’t get past how horrifying this scene is. She’s a maniac.

21:57 - No one will make eye contact with Malcolm. :( They all think he’s losing it but they’re not scared of him. They’re scared for him.

22:10 - “A trusted member of my team has a theory I run it down.” THANK YOU GIL. SUBTLY TELL MALCOLM THAT YOU TRUST HIM. That’s what he needed to hear. He was doubting that anyone cared. :(

22:45 - “Do you HeAr yourself?!?” Ouch. Gil’s right - Malcolm sounds nuts. Unfortunately, Malcolm’s also right (more or less). Look at how sad Malcolm is - he honestly looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. :( Malcolm thinks Gil doesn’t trust him anymore. Malcolm thinks Gil thinks he’s crazy. It’s heartbreaking. SOMEONE HUG THIS LITTLE CINNAMON ROLL.

22:54 - JT, buddy. Not the time. You’re making this worse. :( Malcolm is two breaths away from crying.

23:40 - “Dani, you up for this? Cause he sure isn’t.” Gil is losing it. Look at him. Gil is watching the boy he considers as his son unravel and Gil can’t do anything about it.

23:45 - “Either way, he’s going there. I’ll keep an eye on him.” I love Dani for this. Brightwell or not - the fact that she’s willing to chase smoke in an attempt to keep Malcolm from having a full mental breakdown makes her a hero.

23:48 - JT, hug Gil! He needs a hug!

24:16 - Martin is screaming while shackled to a bed.....where have I seen this before?

25:39 - “I did this for you because you needed it.”....”Dani, I respect you.” Excuse me while I go sob in the corner. Malcolm just uttered the words “I respect you.” and my heart exploded.

26:11 - “You don’t care. None of you care if my father lives or dies.” No, Malcolm, you’re wrong. They care. They all care so so much. Not about the life of the Martin Whitly though. They care about how Martin Whitly will continue to torment you if he’s caught alive. They care about how badly you’ll grieve if he ends up dying. They care about how this will affect YOU. because they love you.

26:22 - “You would be free.” SAY IT LOUDER DANI! He’d be in enormous pain for a while, but Malcolm would heal.

26:56 - “Let him go, Malcolm.” <3 <3 Malcolm is listening to Dani. He’s opening up about his fears. This is good (for Malcolm’s mental health). I am happy.

27:04 - WOW BABY! That kiss was......passionate? I mean, we all knew they were going to kiss (thanks previews) but I honestly didn’t expect a kiss this long or passionate? They’ve both been clearly denying their feelings for each other for a while though so I guess it makes sense?

27:20 - We all know Dani was going to talk about how they could make a relationship work for them and/or how she loves Malcolm but thinks he should focus on his mental health before they start dating. BUT MALCOLM? That boy thinks he just ruined his friendship with Dani and I’m heartbroken. Look at his sad little face. :(

28:31 - sooooo when exactly did Malcolm’s phone call drop? I feel like Ainsley had more access to the conversation that just what she shares with Dani in a couple of minutes.

29:08 - Look at this sad, scared little boy. He genuinely thinks that saving Martin will earn Martin’s love. I’m heartbroken.

29:22 - THIS. Malcolm is so desperate for Martin’s love that he essentially consented to being kidnapped, tortured, and potentially murdered. :( This is bad.

30:06 - Malcolm took unknown drugs from a crazy person. UGH. The stress of loving this unstable man-child is going to kill me. I’m so worried for him. ALSO WHO THE HELL CHEWS PILLS?!?! That’s disgusting.

30:24 - Dani thinks Malcolm is being a typical guy - terrified of relationships/talking about his feelings. She’s hurt. The Brightwell ship has encountered another storm.

30:35 - Anyone else get major flashbacks to 1x11 when Gil shows up to the townhouse to tell Jessica that Malcolm’s been kidnapped? You know, when he walks past all the reporters?!

30:50 - Ugh. :( Poor Jessica. That call from Capshaw gave her quite the emotional dilemma. As she said earlier, she loves her children more than she hates Martin. Soooo does she tell someone about the call, save Martin, and let Martin continue to torment her children? Or does she let Capshaw kill Martin, compromise her morals, let her children grieve for a while - but ultimately heal? It’s an impossible choice.

31:13 - “I know why you’re anxious Jess.” UGH. Get yourself a man you looks at you the way Gil look at Jessica. So much love. So much concern. If Gil wasn’t fictional and I wasn’t asexual (and 24) I would marry that man.

31:23 - “He has become convinced that his father is a victim in all of this.” Gil is so upset. He’s angry - at Martin for having this much power over Malcolm so many years later. He’s angry that Malcolm is still suffering so much because of his father. He’s upset because Martin is still hurting the people Gil loves 23 years after he was initially arrested.

31:33 - “There’s no good outcome here Jess.” Thank you. Gil is a man with awareness into Malcolm’s psyche. He knows this is going to hurt Malcolm no matter what happens. He’s scared and he’s bracing himself for impact. I love him. I want more people in the world who love people this deeply.

31:50 - “It’s okay to hope for that you know.” THANK YOU GIL. THANK YOU. Someone needed to tell Jessica that she’s not a monster for wanting the reason her children continue to suffer to disappear (even if tha means he dies). It’s not a malicious, evil thought toward Martin. It’s a hope for her children’s wellbeing.

32:04 - “And in my weaker moments, I want him dead too.” <3 I’m imagining Gil praying that Martin is killed by an inmate after he comforts a teenage Malcolm from a nightmare. I’m imagining Gil praying Riker’s finally kills Martin as he watched Malcolm spiral into Martin’s grasp again last year. I’m imagining Gil crying himself to sleep because he’s so damn tired of watching Jessica and Malcolm suffer because of Martin. I love him for it. <3

32:15 - “Maybe things could be different.” .....I’m sorry. Does this mean Gillica is off again?! The flirting and dancing from 2x9 meant nothing?!? It was a hoax?!? I’m furious.

32:35 - “It’s the actions that matter.” Damn. Gil is too good for the nonsense that is the Whitly family. Doesn’t he know that life isn’t always that simple?

32:46 - Annnnnd now Jessica will convince herself that she’s a bad person because she didn’t tell anyone about Capshaw’s call. She will also convince herself that she’s not good enought for Gil. AND I will cry myself to sleep.

32:55 - That hug <3 Sooooo Gillica is still on? I’m hella confused.

33:05 - There it is. Dani is still upset with Malcolm. The Brightwell ship is taking in water my dudes.

33:52 - Wow. He looks pretty in that makeshift hospital bed. Sleeves rolled up. Shirt half unbuttoned. Glazed, disoriented look about him as he wakes from a drugged sleep. <3 I’m in heaven.

34:30 - This is why Malcolm can never let Martin go. There are moments when Martin absolutely convinces Malcolm that he loves him.

34:50 - “Because he also happens to be my father.” THIS. IS. THE. MOST. REALISTIC. PORTRAYAL. OF. ABUSIVE. DADDY. ISSUES. Take from someone who lived through an abusive Dad. You hate him. You know he’s messed up. You don’t like or respect him. But a part of you will always love him. Even though you hate that part of yourself.

35:12 - “I want all of you.” .....I’m terrified. This woman is crazy. Crazier than the Surgeon. Is that possible?

36:05 - “You want him to love you. But he can’t.” Have you said that to yourself Malcolm? You know that logically but you don’t feel that in your heart. ....and the writers don’t know that because we’ve seen that Martin loves Malcolm? Sort of? Unless the writers are playing some sort of weird long con on us.

36:50 - This is whump content I signed up for. This crazy bitch just killed Malcolm. We saw the terror in his eyes. BUT HE LIVES. So. I’m. Here. For. It.

36:58 - Martin’s devotion to Malcolm is so so interesting to me. Martin is a psychopath - he’s not supposed to be capable of love. But he clearly loves Malcolm. How? Why? It makes no sense but I love it?

37:47 - Malcolm’s little wheeze when Vivian starts mitigating the embolism. <3 So cute.

37:53 - “I can do without the mansplaining.” I’m getting PTSD. There are too many real women who are this crazy about feminism and mansplaining (this is coming from a woman). Martin isn’t trying to ‘mansplain’ he’s scared and he’s trying to save his son. That’s not mansplaining. He’s not explaining something because he thinks Vivian doesn’t know it. He’s explaining something in a desperate attempt to remind her of the severity of the situation.

38:16 - HOW THE HELL did Ainsley and Dani know where Martin, Capshaw, and Malcolm were? Either 1) Ainsley is somehow working with Capshaw, or 2) they were able to trace Malcolm’s cell (assuming Capshaw didn’t trash it), or 3) Ainsley knew her mom was lying about that phone call and they had it traced?, or 4) this is a convenient plot thing.

38:34 - This bitch is devious and I hate her.

39:30 - Martin Whitly is the hero of the episode. What alternate reality are we living in?

41:15 - Malcolm struggling for breath. <3 The whumpers are being FED.

41:17 - “Run.” This is 23 years of guilt for turning his own father into the police surfacing.

41:31 - “Where’s my family?” I honestly don’t know how I feel about this line. It bothers me but I can’t figure out why.

41:43 - This ending sequence is a work of ART. Malcolm is in physical and emotional pain. Dani (without backup) trying to save Malcolm from Martin. The epic music. The shot of Dani seeing the blood-filled syringe next to the makeshift hospital bed+restraints. Martin Whitly. Driving. A. Boat. And. Laughing - completely elated - with Malcolm passed out (and looking adorable) in the aft seating. The fact that the ONLY house you can see on the shoreline is the house the just escaped from.

THIS EPISODE WAS EXCITING, STRESSFUL, AND WONDERFUL. I’m excited for the SEASON finale and I pray we get a season 3 from a network other than FOX.

34 notes · View notes

voidcat · 3 years

Text

— Seijoh 4 & dom!reader

a/n: this is legit my first time writing nsfw so yea b kind pls. I was getting tired of sub!reader stuff and I’m not the most sexual person but yea have a lil dom!reader w the boys,,, as a treat,, I’d also like you all to know that Nicole enabled this... thanks for supporting the sad horn knee hours wife<3

mostly gender neutral reader but i just realized i used nicknames “miss/mistress” few times so yea

Hanamaki Takahiro:

Oh boy is he excited!.. the moment this slips out of your mouth, he is fuming, vibrating from where he’s sitting and can’t wait to get home.

He is always open to try new things. Back in the day you two tried a thing or two but you were unsure how he’d act so you downplayed often... but now that knowing you’re a dom, the things you can do with the trust you share, shit, did it get hot in here?

On random days, he’ll just go “hey babe what do you think of this?” And show you a page of strap ons, for you to choose. some days he’ll practically beg to be pegged. he loves your demanour when you’re in charge, the air within you when you’re the one in control is, comforting but each night a new adventure and he just can’t get enough of it, of you.

Probably the two of you start with a basic list of things to try and see what he is into. When it comes to spanking, you warn beforehand again and say you’ll do it only once. Holding back yourself and smacking him as lightly as you can, you watch his face for any changes. The moment your hand makes contact with his skin, he lets out a “yelp!” and you stop right there, growing worried. Instead of a face in pain, teeth clenched and brows furrowed; he has the most satisfied and flushed face, eyes half closed and glossy and mouth slightly open. “Do it again babe, but harder this time? Please?”

He probably gets on your nerves on purpose & loves it when you call him a brat or your good boy. Some days he’ll just call you to hang out at his place and when you arrive, you find him spread on the bed, touching himself, his eyes on your figure, staring right into your eyes “hope I haven’t disobeyed or crossed any lines Miss” (he’ll be pissing you off on purpose during your movie nights and let you teach him a lesson right on the couch, the counter or the table...)

Def calls you praises and names (especially titles, telling you over and over how much he loves and enjoys you, how he loves to be drowned in your presence, begging you for anything, even the tiniest bit of a kiss.

He likes to shower together after a long night and wash each other’s hair, gently massaging your scalp and placing kisses all over your shoulders and the top of your head; whereas you gently kiss the places you’ve bitten and bruised, smothering his face with kisses.

Oikawa Tooru

This boy here, loves to act tough and all but let’s face it, he is a switch. It’s a typical Never Have I Ever game and at one point bedroom talk enters the game. He takes notes of the things you drink to, curious and you swear you catch a spark of excitement when you make it plainly obvious you’re a dom. Although that spark leaves as fast as it has appeared and you brush it off as a play of light.

That night when you return home, he practically jumps at you, a little rougher than usual and you’re sure why. Letting him pin you to the wall, hands roaming your body greedily, you let him live out the fantasy. The kisses now rough, one minute his lips on yours, the next on your neck, shoulders, collarbones... desperate to sink his teeth in and leave some marks. You think to yourself, that’s enough.

Next thing Oikawa knows, he is the one pinned to the wall, his wrists pinned above his head. With your unoccupied hand, you graze your finger lightly on his figure, jaw, neck and chest. “Someone is feisty.” he won’t tell at first but definitely got a thing for being marked and marking, and honestly? you don’t need him to tell you that.

orgasm denial!!! lots of it!! first two times you take pity on him and let him but the third time? the smug bastard is so sure you will let him come again but surprise!, as soon as you come, you leave him high and dry. he tries solving the issue by himself (which only makes things worse) after like 5 days of no orgasm on his part, he finally gets the clue, is on his... better behaviour; once you allow him to come, the days long of wait is worth the pleasure but he learns not to test you like this again. (however, this won’t stop him from disobeying you few more times just to get you to be rougher)

public teasing!! pda is already a given but you guys use remote controlled toys some days (usually you have the remote and he is the one who does his best to keep quiet) the driving and being near the edge of his climax is painful but he manages to hold himself until you two return home (or find a safe place to take care of it) and the endless wait and your cruel play with the toy’s settings is worth the wait. oikawa shivers every single time.

besides these, he likes to dress up and put on make up. and he is quite picky when it comes to lingerie the two of you wear, he checks the fabric qualities and colors beforehand, after all you only deserve the best of the best. he’ll be picking palettes to compliment your features best, loves using highlighter and always picks a dark shade of lipstick for each other; just to see how many times you’ll have to reapply until you’re both covered in its colors.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Ok so I know he has the brute facade going and everyone thinks he’s a dom but hear me out: actually quite soft switch/sub-leaning iwachan

Its a night out w the gang and during a drinking game oikawa makes a snark at you being such a dom in the streets AND in bed. to this blood rushes to Iwa’s cheeks and not many pay attention to it, bc he gets blushy easily plus he has been drinking too. but his mind? Oh he’s for sure imagining scenarios on what you could do to him.

Orgasm denial isn’t much of a thing because he’s very obedient. he’ll do his best to please you and follow your each and every word, watch your lips to hear your next words. for him, your word is law at this point... it’s almost impossible to deny him or those puppy eyes and those sweaty arms anything. He will call you ma’am, mistress, your highness, my goddess... whatever you wish and do not wish for. He loves praising you and ramble about how perfect and holy, etheral and magnificent you are.

lowkey into being tyed up, handcuffed and/or bondage. absolutely loves seeing you in full control. some days you won’t even bother to get undressed while he’s squirming under your touch fully stripped, begging for the tiniest bit of release. sometimes you’ll do the smallest gesture of taking control and he’ll be drooling, not even joking, this man LOVES IT when u take the ropes into ur hands (both metaphorically and literally) loves to lose control and wait for you to do whatever your heart desires, he wants to be what you desire.

(lowkey got a “corruption kink” too) when you two decide to shake things up a bit one day, you bring up some games, activities and kinks (mostly stuff he has only heard of) and, and he’s hard on the spot. lowkey into you wearing leather and gagging him up, his hands tied. he doesn’t mind blindfolds but watching you is so breathtaking, he even does his best to blink as little as possible. he loves it when you ride him to the point of orgasming for the 6th time that day, he’s ready to do anything for you, be your good boy and please you til world’s end.

very very good at oral too, his arms arent the only muscles he’s good at using, he loves your taste, your fingers in his mouth, his fingers in your mouth and in you. feeling your warmth however you want is enough to be content.

not something you do often but having sex in front of the mirror, seeing you in different angles drives him crazy, watching you covered in sweat, shining, panting, telling him how good you are is enough to make him drunk. but still he prefers to be chest to chest, you in his lap, riding him as he holds you to his chest, feeling your skin against his, burning with each move, rubbing against each other.

Matsukawa Issei

of all his relationships and hookups, Issei always encountered subs. few times his partners were doms, they were still submessive to him so when he finds out realizes you’re a dom, needless to say, he’s intrigued...

it kinda starts off with sex in front of a mirror one night, your back pressed against his chest, you’re riding him as his face buried in yourneck and his hands howering over you and suddenly, you grab his hands and out them at his sides, hold his chin and make him look at the mirror: “now watch hoe good i’ll be fucking you and your brains out until you won’t get a coherent sentence out.” you whisper in a low voice and do you deliver as you’ve said? but he got tricks up his sleeve too...

Most of the time, it’s rough and the fire play as well as powerplay takes most of the time. There’s always a battle for dominance, which leaves you both covered in marks and bruises. To say neither of you like it, would be unfair, especially when he disobeys you or flirts with other people beforehand, stepping on your nerves on purpose. (the quiet moans he lets out as you bite his neck, his collarbones, his earlobe, chest and thighs is an indicator if you ever need one.)

And thighs! Lots of thigh biting, massages, rubbing with fingers, or just squeezing the others head inbetween thighs is a given during oral and any foreplay that involved pecks and love bites in that area.

And as it is rough, you two always take your time, having a gentleness to jt in your own way. Be it a soft kiss out of nowhere, a certain way of bucking your hips or thrusting his hips into you. And as things are rough, it’s also when you get to let it all out, be yourself, unstrained.

Some days you’ll drop by his current job, or he’ll stop by at your place, and if he sees you in a headspace that’s too distracted, bothered or irritated by something, or just down; he’ll pick you up, wrapping your legs around him, pressing to you and nibbling on your neck and literally fuck your frustrations out. Those times he lets you take the ropes into your hands but if you’re not up for even that, he’ll take the charge on the spot, and leave clear marks to keep your mind off things for days. And in return, you’ll leave claw marks on his back, tug at his hair and press him to yourself until all you can feel is him; some days you’ll flip the both of you out of nowhere and press his head against your chest, hold his hands behind his back and guide him with your body, his muffled breathes tingling your chest, the nape of your neck and your lips; until your skins red, lips bleeding and gentle purples decorating all over you.

(and he’s a sucker for it. some days he’ll go in town to get something for you to use on him and drop at your place without a card or a name. If asked, he always denies, claiming he’d not get you things to make it easier to control him but the sight of you holding a whip and he can feel the blood rushing already, tugging at his belt and your tshirt. He hopes it’ll be just like that one time you pressed against his dick with high heels, making him beg to come.)

tags: @myelocin @atsumu-brainrot

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

summertime mindset - pt. 7

picnics & parties

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 3.3k

note from the writer: sorry I forgot to post yesterday, hopefully this makes up for it!!

SUMMER

Tyson had the brilliant idea that while you were at the lake house, he wanted to take you out for a romantic ride in a rowboat. You had agreed and decided that you would go while Michael and Rachel headed to the store for a few last-minute items.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You giggled, watching from the dock as he tried to steady the boat. Moments before, you had helped him carry it into the water from where it had been stored on the lawn. You hadn’t even left shore, and he was already acting as if he was going to tip over. He shot you a look, a way-too dramatic look of offense at your comment that led you to double over with giggles.

“Of course, I know what I’m doing, it’s just… maybe leave the phones in the house in case we tip.” He confessed as he finally got the hang of what he was doing. Right before you were about to climb into the boat, Tyson’s face lit up as if he just remembered something. “Almost forgot, I’ll be right back.” He started to jog back up the house but stopped after a few steps and turned on his heel walk back up to you. He gave you a quick kiss, as if he couldn’t help himself, before flashing a grin and continuing back onto his previous path to the house.

You watched as he went, unable to fight the smile that was growing on your face. Tyson was incredibly sweet, and so affectionate, you had never felt more appreciated in your life than you did with him. It was a little nerve wracking, how everything seemed to just fall into place with him, but then he was bouncing out of the house and back towards you on the dock with a picnic basket in his hand and suddenly none of that was of any importance to you.

“You didn’t.” You tried, because of course he did. He was grinning like he usually was, looking incredibly proud of himself—granted, he had a right to be—and you briefly wondered when he had left your side long enough to put the basket together.

He set the basket in the center of the boat before helping you climb in. You watched as he tried to steady himself, giggling as he dramatically pumped his fist when he managed to settle into his seat without too much rocking.

Tyson rowed out for a while, joking and keeping you laughing the whole way out. You were curious what was in the basket, and once he deemed you far enough out on the water, he pulled it towards him.

“I made lunch, but I’m not a chef and I had to pack this quick while you were in the shower, so I hope you’re in the mood for PB&Js.” He joked while digging through the basket to pull out two baggies filled with the sandwiches.

“It’s perfect.” You promised, readily taking the one he was offering you. He rocked the boat as if he was going to tip it, and you playfully glared at him, but for the more part you ate in relative silence. As you took a sip out of one of the water bottles he brought, Tyson grinned at you before pulling one more thing out of the picnic basket.

His ukulele.

“Dinner and a show? What did I do to deserve this?” You teased, earning an eye roll from Tyson.

“Might be a punishment, depending how you look at it.” He joked as he strummed aimlessly. You shook your head at him, cheeks sore from smiling so hard. It was a little mind blowing, how easy it felt to be around Tyson. Even when he was playing the ukulele and singing off key to a song you were pretty sure he was making up on the spot, he was the only person you wanted to be with. He finished the first song, and you dissolved into giggles as he wiggled his brows at you. “So, was it a punishment or not?”

“Definitely not a punishment.” You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow two sizes at the sight of Tyson’s blush at your compliment. “Not to be cheesy but spending time with you is never a punishment.”

“That is cheesy.” He chuckled, though he flushed harder and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. You shook your head at him, the smile seemingly permanent on both your faces as you studied each other. You watched as the look in his eye turned from teasing to a softer, more adoring one as the moments ticked by and neither one of you said anything.

“What’re you thinking about, Tys?” You asked quietly. You hoped the answer was you, because just the idea that he was smiling so genuinely as a result of you made your heart race and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Tyson started, a dreaminess to his voice that had you swooning. Before you could prompt him about why he thought that, he continued. “You’re spending your summer with me. So, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

For a moment you just smiled at him, wanting to launch yourself into his arms but not willing to risk tipping the boat. But then you thought, fuck it, and stood up with your arms braced on either side of the boat to lean forward just enough to give him a kiss. He cupped your jaw, holding you in place against his lips for an extra moment longer. When you settled back into your seat, you were still grinning at each other and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“And I’m the cheesy one.”

PRESENT

“I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me.”

You know you’re in for a fight when those are Jon’s first words as he brushes past you and into your apartment. Granted, most of what you had been doing with Jon over the past couple weeks was fighting, so you weren’t that surprised. The relationship was dying—dead, past tense—but you hadn’t gotten yourself to pull it together enough to end everything.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, sounding defeated before the argument even started. Jon headed into the kitchen like he lived there, and if you hadn’t been so focused on trying to find out what he meant you would have rolled your eyes at him.

“You hung out with Tyson yesterday.” He spoke as if you had just committed the highest act of treason and not gotten lunch with a group of friends and posted a picture of it on your Snapchat story. You scoffed, arms crossed and already on the defensive.

“And what about it? We’re friends, Jonathan.” You hissed, making sure that you stayed on the opposite side of the kitchen as him. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, but you also couldn’t stand for letting him think that you were a cheater. It was a lose-lose situation for you, that much was clear.

“You guys used to fuck! How do I know you’re not doing it again behind my back?” Jon accused you, and you flinched at the tone of his voice.

“Maybe because JT was there? And one of the other guys is there too whenever we hang out? And maybe you could have some trust in me?” You snapped. This had been building for a while, and though you knew he was jealous of Tyson, Jon had managed to somewhat keep it to himself. Now, it was out in the open and his accusations had you seething.

“You lied to me about your past with Tyson and you lied about not seeing him anymore!” He countered, completely ignoring you and only serving to rile you up more.

“First of all, I know I should have mentioned my past relationship with Tyson, and I’m sorry. But it was years ago. And I never said I would stop seeing him.” You shot back. For a moment, it was quiet, save for the labored breathing as a result of pent up anger and resentment. The silence allowed you to comprehend just what this argument and accusations meant for the fate of your relationship. “If you can’t trust me to be friends with Tyson, then leave.”

“Maybe I will.” He threatened, leaning backwards against the counter with his arms crossed. Clearly, he thought he was going to get his way, and you briefly wondered why he assumed that you would pick him over your friends and happiness when he had caused you nothing but pain and strife for the last few months.

“Get out.” You demanded, voice more firm and more set in a decision that you had ever been. Jon had the audacity to look shocked, and you raised a brow, silently daring him to try and protest. “We’re done.”

“But—”

“No.” You interrupted, extending a finger to point to the door in a not-so subtle gesture for him to leave your apartment. He floundered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but for once he kept quiet and listened to you. He slammed your door shut behind him, the sound both making you flinch and sealing the fate for your failed relationship.

You took a moment to regain your thoughts, and suddenly your apartment felt entirely too empty. Your roommate—no matter how much you didn’t get along—wasn’t around to distract you, having gone back to her hometown for the week. Though there wasn’t much love left in your relationship with Jon, you had still been with him for a substantial amount of time, and breakups hurt no matter what.

You wondered if it was fate, the mischievous force, that had your phone ringing only five minutes after Jon left. You glanced at the caller I.D. and your heart skipped a beat in your chest without your permission as you saw the familiar head of brown curls that popped up with the contact photo.

“Hello?” You questioned softly. Even to your own ears, your voice sounded strained. Internally, you cringed, not liking how you were so blatantly affected. You bit your lip, hoping he wouldn’t notice the change in your demeanor.

“Hey—wait, what’s wrong?” Tyson cut his own greeting short, picking up on your distress. In the background, you could hear people chatting loudly, and you remembered that Andre had decided to throw a house party. You had been invited, but declined the offer in order to get work done—though, it was highly unlikely that would be happening anytime soon. The noise faded, Tyson must have stepped outside, and when you didn’t answer his question after a moment, he called your name.

“Sorry, it’s—” You started, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing deeply to try and gather your thoughts. Tyson waited patiently, and you pushed away the thought that you could clearly picture his concerned face. His brows would be scrunched together in confusion as he tried to figure out what was wrong, and his lips would be in a miniscule pout that was simultaneously endearing and adorable. “It’s just Jon.”

“What happened? Did he do something?” Tyson rushed. He sounded annoyed, which you understood. Jon had done nothing but make passive aggressive comments to him whenever they were in the same room, and that was only if he even acknowledged his presence.

“No, not exactly.” You shook your head, even though you knew Tyson couldn’t see you. You didn’t want to tell him what had truly happened, not wanting to bring up the fact that he was the catalyst for the fight. “I broke up with him.”

“Oh.” He sounded relieved almost, but before you could question his reaction, he continued. “Do you want me to come over?”

“I think I want to go out, actually. You’re at Andre’s, right?” You sighed standing up from your couch and heading into your room to change into something a little more appropriate for a house party.

“Yeah. I’ll you soon, okay?” Tyson assured you, and you hummed in acknowledgment before bidding him goodbye. Your chest felt a lot lighter from just a simple phone call with him, and you wanted to curse yourself for the way he still had such an effect over you.

It was a little over twenty minutes later that you let yourself into Andre’s apartment, the building much more expensive than anything you could ever hope to afford. The place was packed from wall to wall with people bustling from one part of the party to the next. Sending a text to Tyson to let him know that you had arrived, you spotted Mikko heading into the kitchen. In desperate need for a familiar face and a strong drink, you followed after the tall blond.

“Hey, Rantanen.” You called, sliding in beside him as he poured a drink at the counter. He cheered loudly when he realized that it was you beside him, and not one of the dozens of girls that usually hung off his arm at parties.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming?” He questioned loudly, pulling you in for a quick side hug. He was well on his way to being drunk, and with the way the team had been playing lately, you figure he deserved it.

“Change of plans.” You shrugged, plastering a strained smile on your face. You didn’t want to air your dirty laundry out to a whole crowd of people, and while you were good friends with nearly the entire Avalanche roster by this point, Mikko didn’t know you well enough to see that you were hiding something.

“Tyson’s going to be so excited to see you.” He grinned broadly, leaning against the counter as you poured your own drink. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t have the time to analyze what Mikko’s words could have meant exactly. Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response, because an all-too familiar body made an appearance beside you.

“That, I am.” Tyson smiled, his arm finding its way around your middle and sitting comfortably on your side. His touch was both calming and setting you on fire, you hated that you didn’t mind the way he made you feel. “Mind if I steal her away?”

“Go ahead, buddy.” Mikko responded with mischief in his eyes, like he knew something you didn’t. His look only turned more devious when Tyson slipped his hand into yours in order to tug you gently in the direction of the kitchen’s exit. You smiled at the blond as a parting, nerves and stress consuming you and stopping from forming any actual words. Tyson was leading you through the party, using his large frame to create a path that you followed. You saw JT and Cale, chatting amongst themselves across the room, and when you waved at them, they gave you the same mischievous and knowing look as Mikko.

Tyson opened the balcony door and the cold Denver air made you shiver and shuffle closer to the brunette that had led you outside. The noise of the party quieted down once the door was shut, and you turned to Tyson, who was already looking to you with concern. His brows were furrowed and his lips in a slight pout—you hated that you still knew him as well as you did.

“Are you okay?” He settled on asking when it became clear that you certainly weren’t going to speak up first. You sighed quietly, stepping towards the railing and looking out to the skyline. You felt his gaze on the side of your face, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling to be seen by him.

“Honestly? I’m better than I should be. This was inevitable, really.” You explained. Part of you felt guilty for not being as heartbroken as you should have been, but the other part of you knew Jon wasn’t great, and he certainly wasn’t good for you.

“How so?” His question was asked quietly, and you pondered on how to answer without giving away how you truly felt, something you were still figuring out yourself.

He wasn’t you. You thought, but decided it was better to keep that to yourself. Silently, you cursed Tyson for letting communication die out between you and him, but it wasn’t fair to put all the blame on him. You had done your fair share of not responding to messages as it grew further and further from the summer months.

What you wouldn’t give to go back.

“I just wasn’t happy, you know?” You settled on saying with a shrug, and Tyson nodded once. You turned to face him, finding him already watching you with a nearly unreadable look on his face.

“I’m so sorry for how things ended between us, after that summer.” It was as if he was reading your mind, and you couldn’t get yourself to say anything. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t completely his fault, but instead you shook your head dumbfoundedly. His stare was pinning you to the ground, so many emotions swirling around in his eyes. “I missed you. Still do.”

“I’m right here?” You whispered, confusion lacing your words. He simply shook his head, taking a step closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he reached a hand up and softly cupped your cheek, making sure your gaze stayed on him. Not that you could tear your gaze from him even if you wanted to.

“Not like that. I’ve missed the old you. The old us.” The implication of his words hit you hard and fast, and suddenly your heart was racing as you melted into his touch. Your own hands reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt to try and ground yourself, but it was too late. Your head was in the clouds and your proximity to Tyson was keeping you there.

“I’m right here.” You said quietly and with more certainty. It happened slowly, how you were pulling yourself closer to Tyson and he was leaning down towards you. Your heart was hammering in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut. He grew near, and you tilted your head up meet him and—

“I thought you weren’t coming!”

Andre bursted through the door and out onto the patio. You jumped away from Tyson, cheeks heating up profusely at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position. The Swede winced, looking between you and Tyson, slowly piecing together that he had interrupted something with his inebriated outburst. “Oh, were you—”

“I didn’t see you when I got here, what have you been up to?” You ask hurriedly, interrupting whatever he planned on finishing his sentence with. You weren’t even sure what had nearly happened. Andre’s face lit up at your question, his original excitement at seeing you at the party returning.

“I’ve been playing pong. Want to be my partner?” He asked with a wide grin and you nodded.

You bit your lip, knowing there were things that needed to be said between you and Tyson. Both of you stayed silent a moment longer, and you knew you needed to go catch up with Andre. It was like a ghost of your past self took over, and you pushed yourself onto your tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, Tyson’s eyes were wide and a blush was creeping up his beck, but you didn’t give him time to react before you were slipping back inside the party. Your mind was both blank and racing at the same time, but one thing was for certain.

The not-quite kiss felt a little too right for your liking.

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost x reader #Tyson Jost series #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost fic #Colorado Avalanche #Colorado Avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #hockey imagine #NHL x reader #NHL imagine

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bourbon-ontherocks · 3 years

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(Previously, on GG rewatch...)

Jesus. Lots of nonsense, in this ep, lots of nonsense. But I love Max as a character so it’s okay!

Lololol at Beth comparing turning down a scholarship and stealing from a dangerous gang leader as if it was A Thing

Never tired of Max's obsessive corkboard and excessive love for frozen yoghurts.

Jesus juice???? WHAT IS THIS???

I’m really intrigued by the game that Stan and the girls are playing at

"I used to be a cop." "And I used to teach preschool." I LOVE Diane's logic!!

Aaaaah, the enchanted world of the Bolands' everchanging magic bathroom!! Kind of a Narnia portal at this point...

I absolutely love how a seduction attempt turns into the weirdest Beth-Dean convo about deodorants. They NEVER are on the same page. It’s literally their relationship in a nutshell.

I really like this parallel between Max holding a gun and asking for "his girl", and, you know, the other weirdo wandering around with a gun and "ma girl"-s...

Annie's "Take it from her" and "she would know" in response to Beth telling Max that killing Rio isn't easy just cracks me up every time

MAN POPS UP LIKE A GENIE

"It would not." BETH WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME????

I love that Annie not knowing where is Kansas City is actually so plausible that Rio buys it for real!!!

I know I said that before, but where can I purchase this "speak the Ruth" RBG cloth bag, please?

So JT knows that the girls craft fake cash, rob stores, want to borrow money for a HITMAN, and he's just... cool with it? People are weird.

Ugh, see, that's the problem with countries where everybody can purchase a gun, you can't rob your friend's store in peace...

Not sure that getting involved in some beef with the Russian maffia is Diane's best idea ever, but okay...

I love how Beth claims that she has no bars on her phone, then calls 911 barely 20 seconds later, and the man with the gun just doesn't realize it...

Retta's acting right after the shooting scene is AMAZING. Also Ruby would totally make abstraction of the pain and roll her eyes with a "oh no" at the news that Annie saved her life!!

Lowkey surprised that Annie is actually able to compute 10% of zero...

The girls nicknaming Max MaxiPads is BRILLIANT

I absolutely lose it every time to the fact that Beth took the time to draw a neck tattoo on a FUCKING TARGET!!!! She's a nerd in love. I love her

Also Beth's "oh boy" the first time Max grabs the gun cracks me up every time.

"Who's a badass?" "You are"... Jesus. Now imagine this happening between Beth and Rio...

Gosh, the whole gun lessons montage is GOLD. I'm not sure that Beth's super legitimate at teaching gun shooting given her poor track record, but just imagining every sequence with Rio instead of Max is absolutely delightful. I can't believe we got robbed of this.

I love how Rio doesn't order anything to drink for Beth!! The pettiness!! And then leaves the drink to her, like... THEY DRINK FROM THE SAME GLASS????

Can't make up my mind about whether Rio knows the truth or not about Max. He doesn't look very tense but at the same time, he doesn't trust Beth with anything so I wouldn't be surprised if he'd done some research... But if he doesn't know at all, he must think that both Beth and Max are lunatics, they're acting so weirdly during that meet!!!

THE. PAT. ON. THE. SHOULDER.

Is it me or telling and adult who wet their pants that your kids do it all the time is like the most mortifying thing ever??

I really feel bad for Max, though.

Another weird line about Emma only justifying the actress' absence I suppose...

I love the absolutely unnatural way the kids run out of the living room, they look like a joggers group!!

Dean making the kids watch Snakes on a plane is actually smart parenting, I'm impressed!

Oh I like this callback from the beginning of the episode with the pseudo-inspirational T-shirt and Annie finding her port!

I really really love Stan's arc this season and the way his morality switch is for once built-up in a meaningful and well-paced way

Dean: "this is the last thing he'll take from us" Rio: *Takes EVERYTHING in the house*

BLIZRABETH

DON'T EVER STEAL FROM ME AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

This is like, the pettiest move Rio's ever done. He's a lunatic. Sounds like a lot of effort for someone who "got over it". Just sayin...

#gg rewatch #las vegas #petition to see more of Max next season #and give him a new quirky girlfriend he makes me saaaddd #she can be carved out of a frozen yoghurt I don't care I just want him happy

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toplinetommy · 4 years

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You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Two) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 4.8k

Part One

September 2017 - Denver, CO

NHLers + 1 Tucker: heard you got a job in Denver Tucker: you know who else got a job there Y/N: what are you going on about Brock: tyson jost plays for the avs Brock: you should catch a game when the szn starts Y/N: he barely knows who i am Tucker: he thinks youre cute *Brock emphasized the message* Y/N: that was months ago Brock: whats the worst that can happen Y/N: hes literally a pro athlete Tucker: im a pro athlete and I still talk to you

You set your phone back onto the patio table, changing it out for your margarita. You were sitting on your new best friend and coworker, Caitlyn’s, back deck enjoying margaritas in the early Denver fall when she said a name you hadn’t heard in months.

“So, when were you going to tell me you know Tyson Jost?”

You nearly spit out the alcoholic beverage, choking as it goes down the wrong pipe. “Uh, because I don’t? He played hockey where I got my undergrad, not a big deal.”

“Then how come I’m scrolling on Instagram, and Tyson Jost shared to his IG story a picture that you, my friend, are in?” She pushes her phone across the table to you and you look at the picture. Sure enough, it’s a picture Brock had shared to his story, that Tyson had reshared, from the 2017 senior banquet. You’re standing between Brock and Tucker in the back of the photo, barely seen as you were tucked in a large group of hockey players. You weren’t even tagged and yet, somehow Caitlyn had been able to pinpoint you, with none other than Tyson Jost standing right in front of you.

“I’ve had maybe three conversations with him? He only played the one year there and I wasn’t tutoring him.” You shrug, not getting what the huge deal was.

“You were a tutor?”

“Yeah, for athletes, but towards the end I was mainly tutoring the hockey team. That’s why I’m in that picture, I was pretty close to a few of the guys. That was their senior banquet my senior year and I went as one guy’s date, and no, it wasn’t with Tyson or Brock. It was with a guy named Tucker, he plays for the Jets actually.”

Caitlyn asks a few more questions about your college life before the sun starts to set, and the hockey conversation gets dropped.

“Trust me, I’m not ‘immersed’ into the NHL community or whatever. I just have a few friends in the league that I don’t even talk to that much besides sending memes in a group chat.” You say closing out the topic, choosing to move onto something else.

“Anyways, tell me more about Jack! How come I haven’t met your soulmate yet, huh?” You ask giddly. Soulmates were one of your favorite things to talk about, mainly because you were a hopeless romantic at heart; always fantasizing about the day you’d meet yours and listening to other people share their stories about it.

“Well we met in March when we were at a tech conference while he was still going to school, but I had already graduated and moved here. He still has another year before he graduates and he plans on coming out once he does, depending on if he can get a job in the area.”

“Do you think he’ll move to Denver?”

“I think so, he loved it here when he came and visited over the summer. He loved this house, and he loves the outdoors. I don’t really want to leave, either. I mean, Denver’s my home.” She says, smiling at the thought of her current surroundings.

Hearing others talk about their soulmates kind of made you envious, but you were happy for your friend. Watching her face light up as she talked about Jack was something you only wished for and couldn’t wait to experience for yourself.

Two days later, you’re back over at her place for your weekly Taco Tuesday’s - a tradition the two of you had started not too long after you met at your job a few months back. You hop out of your SUV, noticing the moving truck next to your friend’s house, and definitely not missing the large group of burly men unpacking it.

Walking into the house you shout, making your appearance known. Entering the kitchen you set the grocery bag on the counter. “Did you see that people are moving in across the street? Looks like it’s a group of guys.”

Caitlyn shrugs before continuing, “Took ‘em long enough to sell the house. That house was up for sale when I moved here in June.” She starts walking around the island, back towards the front of the house to further inspect the new neighbors, you close behind. A few of them have their shirts off, even in the brisk fall Denver air, and even with the distance, the both of you can tell there’s some serious man-candy going on across the street.

The both of you retreat back to the kitchen, getting ready to make your weekly tacos, catching up on work, friends, drama, and what had happened on this week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy. As Caitlyn was finishing up the taco meat, you went to get beers from the fridge in the garage when you heard a voice other than your friends’ in the kitchen on your way back.

Walking into the room you’re shell shocked at the group of men in front of you. No, scratch that. Shocked at one particular man in front of you. Your jaw drops as none other than Tyson Jost looks right back at you.

He marveled at the sight of you, “y/n y/l/n?”

“In the flesh” You laugh lighty.

“You live here?” He inquired, with a hint of shyness in his voice.

“No, Caitlyn lives here, but I live in the area” you respond pointing over to the blonde standing in between the two of you. You look around at the rest of the guys, remembering that it’s not just the two of you standing in your friends kitchen, having what seems like a reunion of sorts.

A deep cough comes from next to you, pulling you out of your confused, yet awe-struck state. “Hey, uh, I’m JT,” comes from the burly redhead standing a few feet away from you, “This is Alexander, Nate, and then Tyson, who I guess you already know?” He points to everyone as he says their names, a hint of question in his tone when he goes over Tyson’s name.

At this, Tyson jumps in, “She went to North Dakota, too. She knew the hockey team.”

“Oh?” JT asks, eyebrows raising towards his hairline in question.

“Uh, yeah, I was one of the tutors.” You explain briefly.

“You still talk to any of them?” Tyson asks, centering the conversation around you rather than the relationship between the two of you.

“I talk to Brock every now and then, and I’m still pretty close with Tucker.” You answer, not wanting to give too many details about your friendships with other NHLers. Tyson nods his head at you, before JT speaks up once again, steering back to the original reason of the conversation.

The boys had stopped by because they saw the open garage and needed a pair of scissors. Something you assumed a group of guys would have when moving into a new house. As the conversation came to a halt, and the boys started to leave, wanting to let you guys get back to your dinner, Tyson stops on the front porch to continue talking to you.

“So, you ended up in Denver, eh?” He asks, shoving his hands into his short pockets.

“I did, and I like it a lot so far. I got offered a job as a project manager for a company that has their corporate offices here. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to move to a new city.” As you finish talking, you realize you had started rambling a little bit, a slight blush rising to your cheeks.

Tyson smiles widely, noticing the joy and passion in your voice. A voice in the distance calling out for Tyson breaks the moment you two are having. “I should probably get back, but, uhm, if you ever want to catch up or anything don’t hesitate to text me or something.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. I’ll let you get back to moving.” You exclaim with a hint of nervousness. You weren’t sure if you should hug him goodbye, but you were a big hugger, so you awkwardly go in for a hug, to which Tyson happily consumes. The two of you go your separate ways as Tyson jogs across the street back to his house.

Walking back into Caitlyn’s kitchen, you’re snapped back to reality by the look on your friends face. Dropping your shoulders, you groan, “What?”

“I don’t know Tyson Jost, she says. We just went to college together, she says,” she mocks in a high-pitched tone. “That interaction had way too much something in it for you two to have just been acquaintances or whatever you were.”

“I promise you I barely know him. I just always thought he was cute like everyone else did and the guys loved to make fun of me for it. He’s also four years younger than me.” You reveal embarrassingly, a small smile coming to your face thinking back on some of the memories you had. “Like, my senior year, they made me show up to a jersey party at the hockey house wearing his jersey. I think I was the only one at the whole party even wearing something NoDak related, too. It was just dumb, little stuff.”

“Aw, that’s kind of cute.” Caitlyn gushes, taking a sip from her beer. The two of you start to make your tacos, and sit in a comfortable silence while eating.

It’s halfway through dinner you realize you don’t even have Tyson’s phone number, contemplating on whether or not you want to text him. “Should I text him?” You ask. “I barely know him and now he’s an up-and-coming professional athlete.”

“You’re both new to the city, so I don’t see the harm in it?” Your friend reasons.

You nod in agreement, trying to figure out how you’re even going to get his phone number. Picking up your phone, you go to text Tucker.

Y/N: would you happen to have tyson josts number :-) Tucker: thought you didnt want it Y/N: yeah funny story actually Y/N: i guess he lives across the street from my coworker now Tucker: ur kidding Y/N: i wish i was Tucker: i knew you two would somehow find each other Y/N: whatever

Tucker ends up texting you Tyson’s phone number a little bit later, and after a lot of typing and retyping you finally settle on a simple “hey” with a simple smiley face, letting him know it’s you.

Once you had sent the first initial text to Tyson a few days ago, it seemed like the two of you had been friends all along. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, only texting one another when you really had the time to.

Part of you was nervous that the two of you had really never hung out, apart from those few occasions back at school, but even then it was never just the two of you. You had contemplated asking Caitlyn to come over in case it got awkward. In the end, you didn’t let your nerves get the best of you and you went through with going over to his house to meet up with him.

Knocking on the front door, you twist your hands together in anticipation.

The large wooden door swings open to reveal a very smiling Tyson, “Hey!” He moves to the side to let you in but as you pass him he opens his arm signaling for a hug.

You wrap one arm around him, half leaning into his side for a side hug as you greet him in return. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great, development camp just ended. I got the letter saying I made the opening day roster, so still trying to get used to that.” He answers with a small laugh. His hands are resting in his front hoodie pocket, and you notice how nice his posture is. You look over him, also noting that his legs look much thicker than you remember and his chest is much broader, even under the expanse of his hoodie.

“That’s great” You compliment, feet planted to the ground once you slip your shoes off. The two of you are still standing in the foyer of his home. The air around the two of you almost makes it feel like one of those ‘we met online and we’re now meeting each other for the first time’ moments.

Tyson starts walking, leading the two of you to his kitchen before asking if you want anything to drink.

“Water would be awesome.” You answer, moving to take a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

Tyson closes the fridge, handing you a water bottle. “So how long have you been in Denver?”

“Since June, so three months?” You say, counting on your fingers. “I got the job not too long after I graduated but I went on vacation with some friends before moving. What about you?”

“I actually came down in April after the UND season ended, but only for a few games. I just got back, like, two weeks ago.” He starts, leaning his elbows down against the counter in front of you. “I was in a hotel until you saw us moving in the other day, actually.”

“Why’s that?” You ask, knitting your eyebrows in confusion.

“So like, the way it works is that you have to make the team during development camp and if you don’t you’ll go back to wherever you were playing before. I already lost my NCAA eligibility when I left, so if I didn’t make the team I would’ve gone down to San Antonio where our AHL team is.” Tyson explains, hands moving around in the air as he speaks.

You nod your head as he speaks, starting to understand the process of how one makes the NHL. “Well, I think you’ll love it here. I’ve only been here for a few months and I can’t stop thinking about how perfect this place is.” You gush.

“Yeah, I’m really excited for the season. The guys are all really nice and welcoming already.” He muses. His eyes crinkle a little bit, a sure sign of happiness as he smiles.

You smile in response, “From what I remember back at school, you were pretty good, too.”

A small blush rises on his tan cheeks and the tips of his ears. He pushes a hand through the curls on the top of his head with a shrug. “You majored in marketing?” Tyson asks, changing the subject. He was never one to talk about himself too much, even with all of his accomplishments.

“I did!” you exclaim, surprised he even remembered that about you. “I’m a project manager, so I basically manage a few different projects at a time at a marketing firm. I like it a lot so far. That’s how I know Caitlyn, the girl across the street.” You point in her general direction, gesturing to the house across the street.

“What part of the city do you live in?” He asks curiously. He stands up straight again, leaving his hands resting on the counter.

“Over in Westwood, in a townhouse.” You answer, once again stunned at his ability to remember small details from previous conversations. “It’s just southwest of downtown and like, 20 minutes from here.”

“I haven't really gotten the chance to really explore the area too much, so I have no idea where that is.” He laughs.

You laugh along with him, “We can always figure it out together if you want, because I haven’t done too much either.” You freeze up slightly at your request, not really knowing where your bravery came from.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” He agrees. “Being around a bunch of hockey players all the time can be a little much. Besides, it’s nice to have familiar faces around, eh?” He quirks his eyebrow at you.

“For sure.” You agree, taking another sip from your water. “You have any other plans for the day?”

“Other than this, no.”

“I was thinking,” you start, “we could order food or something? I can start showing you the best food places around.”

“Yeah, I’m actually getting kinda hungry. What’re you thinking?” He asks, making a show to rub at his belly.

“I found a really good ramen place a few weeks ago that I really liked if you’re down to try that?” You suggest, pulling your phone out planning to pull up the menu for the two of you.

“Sure, I’m down to try anything.”

You stand up from where you were sitting to move over to him, placing your phone on the counter so both you and Tyson can look at the screen. He moves closer to you, shoulders now touching as you both look down at the phone in front of you quietly. He’s comfortable enough to scroll on the website on his own, even with the newness of your friendship.

As you move to fully stand straight up next to him, the brush of the side of your upper arm against his sends a sort of static through your body. You shrug your arm, moving a few inches away from the man next to you.

“Do you know what you want? I can call and place the order.” You suggest, gesturing towards your phone. He pushes the phone over to you, telling you what he wants before saying he’ll venmo you for his part.

A little while later, once you’ve driven to downtown Denver and back, you have ramen in front of you as the two of you sit out on the back deck trying to enjoy the last of the warm weather.

The two of you sit across from one another eating in the quiet when JT walks out. “You guys got food and didn’t ask me if I wanted any? I’m hurt.”

Your eyes gaze between him and to Tyson, before Tyson speaks up, “Not my problem you weren’t around when we ordered it.”

You chuckle lightly at the interaction in front of you as JT rolls his eyes looking for a response. Instead of verbally responding, he walks over to take a seat next to his roommate, giving him a shove as he passes by him.

“So, y/n, have you found your soulmate yet?”

“Bro, what is with you and your need to ask every single person you know that?” Tyson groans, dropping his fork into his bowl.

“What, it’s fascinating!” He exclaims, leaning back into his seat.

“Yeah, because you basically already know who yours is.”

“You already have a soulmate?” You ask, swallowing the bit of noodles in your mouth.

“Technically, no,” He starts, dragging out the ‘no’. “But I’m convinced I know who it actually is.”

“He met this girl over the summer and felt some ‘connection’ to her or whatever.” Tyson says, doing finger quotations around connection.

“Shut up,” JT groans. “I swear the world stopped when we made eye contact and then we talked and I was just blown away.”

You look at him as he talks, but you notice Tyson next to him, mouthing the words JT is speaking. You giggle a little, causing Tyson to smile.

“I think that’s great, you’ll have to keep me updated on it all.” You say with a smile on your face. Tyson and JT continue to bicker like the best friends you're starting to see they are, as you sit and continue eating your ramen. The way Tyson easily chirps him and laughs makes your stomach do tiny little flips.

January 2018 - Pepsi Center, Denver, CO

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best friend ever?” Caitlyn exclaims with glee.

You laugh loudly, holding open the door to the Pepsi Center for your friend to walk through. “You mean have you ever told me that you love that I’m friends with NHL players so I can get good tickets? Once or twice.”

The Winnipeg Jets were in town, meaning Tucker would be playing Tyson for the first time at the NHL level. Tucker had let you know a few weeks ago that he would be in town briefly to play the Avs, and what he didn’t know was that Tyson had also told you the other day about the game. Tucker offered to get you and a friend tickets to the game, which you happily took.

Now, the both of you are walking around on the concourse level, looking for a good place to stop and get drinks before puck drop.

Caitlyn turns to you after you both get your drinks, “Does Tucker know that you’re talking to Tyson?”

“No, I’d thought I’d let him figure it out on his own. I mean, he was one of the guys that always pushed us two to get to know each other so I don't want to make a big deal out of nothing yet.” You shrug.

“Didn’t you say we’re all getting brunch tomorrow though? Won’t he know then?”

“He knows, yeah, but he doesn’t know that I know Tyson will be there. Just a little payback for all the pranks he pulled back in college.”

You guys finally locate your seats in the lower bowl, drifting your conversation to the game itself. You knew Caitlyn was a big hockey fan, her being from Michigan and all, so you were happy you finally got to see her in her element.

The Avs scoot by with an overtime win, not seeing too much action from either Tyson or Tucker on the official score sheet. As you guys exit the arena, you shoot a text to both Tyson and Tucker individually, letting them know they played good games.

The next morning both you and Caitlyn are running a little behind getting to brunch, catching an odd amount of Denver traffic on the way to the chosen restaurant.

Walking through the glass doors of the restaurant, you wipe your snow covered feet off on the mat before looking up trying to either spot the mop of curls atop Tyson’s head or Tucker’s broad shoulders.

You catch Tyson’s eyes before Tucker spots you, giving him a small wave and smile before you and Caitlyn make your way over to their table. Tyson stands to give you a hug before Tucker can and when you pull away, you see a look of confusion on Tucker’s face. You move to give him a tight hug, letting him know how much you’ve missed having him around.

Once Caitlyn introduces herself to Tucker, the two of you take your seats across from them in the booth.

“I feel like the two of you are all grown up! My two not-so-little NHLers,” You squeal jokingly. Tyson laughs with a slight blush at this, while Tucker, who’s across from you, rolls his eyes.

“No no no, we’re not doing that.” Tucker laughs. “You can see how we’re doing with one google search. How’re you? How’s work?”

“Very good!” You exclaim, “Caitlyn and I have this really innovative project coming up that we’re super excited for.”

“The one with Finish Line?” Tyson jumps in, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah that one!” Caitlyn answers. You can tell she’s about to explain it further with the way she leans forward over the table.

Tucker cuts her off before she can continue to explain it, “What the fuck? How did you know that?”

“She was telling me the other day about it when I was at her place.” Tyson answers quickly.

“You were at her place?” Tucker asks, growing even more confused.

“Yeah, he was helping me with my new desk. Caitlyn was out of town so she couldn’t help.” You answer without hesitation.

“Oh! You got it set up?” Caitlyn asks the two of you. “You’ll have to send me a picture when you get home.” The way Caitlyn jumps into the conversation doesn’t help Tucker’s confusion one bit as he stares at the three of you blankly,

“So you’re telling me the two of you, like, hang out?” Tucker asks, pointing between the two of you.

“Mhhm,” you hum with a tight-lipped smile. “Not too often, though.” Before Tucker can muster up a response the waitress appears to take your breakfast orders.

“We’ve only really hung out a few times since we reconnected a few months ago,” You continue once the waitress walks away. “Like, maybe two or three times?” You look at Tyson for confirmation to which he nods his head with a quick ‘yep’.

“So, you actually ended up texting him?” Tucker asks you.

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I have?”

“You literally avoided him all of spring semester.” Tucker states. Realization of what he’s talking about hits you and you sink back into the cushioned booth, your stomach tightening up with nerves.

Tyson, who looked like he was just checking something on his phone, whips his head up to look at his old teammate next to him.

“I did not,” You stutter, eyes shooting daggers at the Jets player across from you. “He drove me home from the bar once and then I didn’t see him again until a few months ago.”

“And you guys hooked up and then we never saw you in the same room again.” He says casually, reaching for his glass of water and bringing it to his lips. You choke on your coffee at his remark, going into a fit of coughing once you set your mug back down in front of you.

“Dude,” Tyson warns roughly and slaps at Tucker’s chest.

“What? No one knew where the two of you went and you wouldn’t really say anything about it when we all asked!”

“You told everyone we hooked up?” You ask, staring blankly at Tyson in disbelief.

“I literally told the whole team that some asshole spilled his drink on her and drove her home and then ended up going home right after instead of back to the bar.” Tyson says through gritted teeth. His stern gaze turns from Tucker towards your face, eyes turning soft when he sees your mouth slightly agape.

“I swear I never said anything happened between the two of us.” He promises to you, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes stay focused on him for a while longer. The breath you didn’t mean to hold in is let out a huff of air once you see the sincerity behind his eyes.

“Tucker, that was literally just a coincidence that we never saw each other, and besides, Tyson told me he left school to come down to Denver right after the banquet.” You say, turning your attention back to him.

“Okay, sorry about the assumption.” Tucker apologizes, moreso to you than to Tyson. A smirk plays at his lips and you know exactly where he’s taking this conversation. Before you’re able to derail him and switch the topic to anything else he opens his mouth once again. “Everyone knew you guys were attracted to one another so it wasn’t a stretch to think.”

Your previous embarrassment comes back full force with your cheeks heating up. You pick up your coffee mug once again taking a sip, this time to hopefully hide the pink tint on the apples of your cheeks. You take notice at how Tyson doesn’t move to discount Tucker’s comment this time and especially notice the tips of his ears turning pink.

It’s almost like you’re saved by the bell as the waitress walks up the table, arms full of your food. The rest of your brunch is spent catching up and telling Caitlyn all about what it was like at UND, while she shared stories about herself as well as her soulmate.

All throughout brunch, you couldn’t shake the feeling of the pull you felt towards the man that was sitting kitty-corner to you. Even as you and Caitlyn parted ways from the guys once you left, you swore you felt a part of yourself walk away with them. It may have been a feeling you couldn’t shake, but you still chose to ignore it as the two of you walked back to the parking garage Caitlyn’s car was located.

tag list: @REAVENEDGES-LIES (if you want to be added just let me know)

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #nhl imagine #alex writes #ybtmastm fic

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katzirra · 3 years

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Finding myself still upset a week later. Tired with the idea that no matter if I'm in the wrong or not, I'm usually expected to either reach out and apologize first because I'm sad at the distance, or just act like nothing happened.

And it's not just this time. Which is the bigger issue. It's this reoccurring thing in my life, which has, in the long term, fucked up my perception of my own allowed emotions. With BPD I'm already invalidating myself, constantly thinking I'm over reacting. The issue has become that I'm rarely if ever over reacting now, because I'm too scared to even open up or feel around people at ALL now. Which I also get told is a problem, how I don't share and open up more - like I use to. It's a fucking loop.

I have people mad every few years that I can't be the friend they want me to be. And when I am transparent about my capabilities and my personal needs, I'm told I basically have to remind them about it when they get upset. It's not my job to keep apologizing... It's like, I'm sorry I am how I am. I also don't want to be like this, but it's how I am these days. I also think it sucks.

But I can't keep apologizing and hating myself for someone's expectations of me that I've been clear about what I can handle... And there's this weird reflection of that in that I'm told I don't owe anything to anyone or whatever, but it feels backhanded and passive in a way that never lays well with me when people say it? Like sometimes it feels like people put words in my mouth? If that makes sense...? It's like when people project their anger on my tone when 9/10 I'm depressed, tired and my tone is honestly flat. Like now.

Getting upset at me over and over again, doesn't help me to be closer to you either. It makes me constantly hear I'm a disappointment and I'm fucking up or hurting you, because I'm not pushing myself to do more than I'm capable of emotionally and mentally. I apologize constantly and it becomes a huge thing of what did I do wrong now.... And again, that's not an isolated incident. It's numerous observations. I feel guilty for taking up time, when I'm not feeling good enough for the person. Does that even make sense?

I'm just tired of hating myself for not being the person people want me to be. I am transparent about my energy levels, my abilities to be a friend. I give so much of myself, and I admit that I have no perception of time outside of if I'm working or not, or when I work next. I constantly tell people this. Most people understand, but it's the ones that don't that I feel bad over, and who have more weight somehow...

I think the other thing upsetting me lately is, it wasn't the first time someone pretty much told me that my responses were apparently too long or too much and it was literally in response to their messages. And it just... Idk. People want to vent and yell and rant at me, but not read my responses? Intention or not. It settled in my chest weird and caused a big mental shut down for me in terms of feeling worth someone's time. It just...Idk. It hurt. It's still hurting. It's that feeling of why should I bother with something if that's how the person feels about my feelings. That they're only worth glossing over, when I make sure I read and respond appropriately to things... It hurt a lot. And it kind of just felt like why are you bothering with ME?

It's like how I got reprimanded for saying I felt like a filler friend. Those are my feelings. I'm allowed to feel them. Being yelled at or being told i shouldn't feel that way when history of numerous friendships proves it to be a valid feeling is...what??

I...mm. It made me feel like a fucking freak or something honestly. Like I'm a weirdo for responding to people's messages thoroughly? And it's not the first time, and maybe previous times are why I have such aversion to talking at length about myself and my feelings now.

I've just sort of put everything at a distance since. A few friends have texted me, and I've been working on fixing some friendships via opportunities that have arisen. But that shit cut me deep, and made me feel weird about friendships in general again. Like maybe I'm not supposed to be anyone's friend because apparently I can't do it right. I...try to be there when people need me, and reapond when spoken to, I make time to see people when they want to and even ask people when I feel safe enough to or am not exhausted from work...even when I'm exhausted I do...I buy lunch or dinner every time people come over because I feel if you come here, I owe you that much... Or Becca or I cook dinner... I....??

I like to think I'm a good and valuable friend, otherwise I guess people wouldn't be upset with me...but also like...I deserve respect that I'm not who I use to be, probably never will be again, and I'm constantly pushing myself more than I should because I love the people in my life, or I wouldn't make the space and time for them that I try to... I have faults, I'm not perfect, but I try to be as kind and courteous and considerate as I can be... I'm genuinely interested in things and engage when I can... Idfk. It's not.enouvh. But I'm never going to BE enough for people.

I shouldn't have to report to people when I'm not feeling well. I will make a post to social media because I catch myself, and it's easier to make a vague post about myself or a generalized comment so if someone is inclined to talk to me further, they can on their own engagement terms because I've also had friends who get mad I vent too much!!

It's like no matter what I do, I understand people are all different, but I've had such negative reactions from basic shit that I don't know how to be a person at times. Trauma shapes us, and I hate the mangled form of an incorrectly thrown vase I've become, but I'm trying to fix it and it's DIFFICULT.

But yaknow, I'm sure I'm just being dramatic or something. Or I'm the asshole. I don't think I've actually ever had someone hurt me and apologize after I've told them it hurt me. At least not sincerely. It's always met with defensive energy, like I'm a jerk for it?? Tone is a weird thing...

Which is EXACTLY why I don't tell people when they hurt me, because it blows up.in my face as I'm in the wrong, and my anxiety and energy peak and I just feel remorse for TRYING. So I'm not expecting anything to ever change in my life, and especially with my avoidance of Discord and Twitter right now.im super not expecting shit. It might be months before I check my messenger or.notes there becauee that's how my anxiety triggers with this shit. Friendship issues and potential abandonment and shit just make me give up on existing in shared spaces. That's avoidance ans I'm sure there's a million things to be said about it about me, but it just sucks. The way my anxiety makes me feel.in regards to these topics where I'm expected to trust people, but if I speak up.i feel immediately on edge because the reaction is that I'm bad and wrong...man. No, that feels bad. I hate it. And maybe that's why I'm so unfeeling anymore. Detached, as jt were...

Life's a fucking mess, and I need to take care of myself because my mental.heslth has been in scary places lately. And I don't try and burden people with it at all, because those are my demons. But also, like, I fake a lot of happiness and save face online, and like...that takes a lot out of me.

But... I'm tired.of not.letting myself be upset when someone severely hurts me on a fundamental level.for myself. I'm allowed to be hurt this.time. It sucked. Ans I don't know what to do anymore, because I'm tired of the energy suck of being told I'm basically in the wrong.

I feel resigned to just not have friends honestly. Like I'm too fucked in the head to have them, I guess?? That's what it feels like. I don't know what to do, I just... Don't want to exist honestly. Everything is already too much every day.

I gotta get ready to sleep because good ol work tomorrow and another day of autopilot. I've done nothing but come home, sleep, and wake up at 8pm and space out for three or four hours and go back to bed all week.

I'm burnt out on existing ans that thought brings me actual terror some days.

#kat life #ignore me #probabaly delete tomorrow #tumblr.has always been nice tk yell at the void ans clesr my ahit brain #theres jusy a legit mental breakdown over the horizon and im just trying tk keep.it together fkr a few.more weeks...

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notgonnarememberthis · 3 years

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find your way (back to me) - chapter 12

Another update for y’all! Starting from here we’re beginning to see the end fold out. I’m so happy y’all have been liking this so much and it means so much to me to get so many sweet comments. As of right now I have a pretty good idea how the rest of the events are going into fall into place. Until next time!

Malcolm comes out of the room, finally. Ainsley and Edrisa’s lighthearted conversation ended abruptly with his appearance. He looks simultaneously lighter and like he has the weight of the world balanced on his shoulders. His eyes don’t quite meet the crowd anxiously awaiting his input.

“She talked to me.” His smile is a sad one. One that he’s seen plenty of times after talking to a victim’s family. When he knows that they’ll be ok, although changed forever. “The killer is a cop.”

Dani casts an alarmed look at him and Edrisa stiffens. JT, who clearly had been listening outside the door comes in with a deep scowl on his face. “Who is it?”

“She doesn’t know. The killers were wearing masks the entire time but she saw enough to identify the uniform.” He shifts from side to side. One of their own. “It explains a lot.”

“That’s why your mom was asking ‘where is he’ in the precinct.” A flash of guilt and understanding passes over Dani’s face. She quickly covers it with one of curiosity instead. “So how do we narrow him down?”

“Well based on her description he’s white, late thirties to early forties judging on his voice. Fit build in order to carry bodies and super religious.”

“How does she tell he was religious?”

“She didn’t. The surgeon did.” Gil states. Edrisa’s face sinks turning back to Malcolm. He nods at her, a promise that he’s ok if a little tired. “When I visited him Dr. Whitly talked about the needle’s eye. It was the name the killers claimed just before Jess escaped.”

“The needle’s eye?” Ainsley asks, she kept up with the news being a journalist but it’s the reference she’s not familiar with. Not that Gil blames her, none of the Whitly’s really grew up religious.

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Gil recites, Martin’s tone still fresh in his mind. The room holds still for a second, processing.

“A religious white cop in his early 40s. Simple.” Dani shrugs bitterly. She’s right, half of the cops in their precinct alone could match that description. It doesn’t help that they can’t pass along the information. They’ve seen this play out too many times. Defensive tones and screaming matches. More intent on protecting friends than the people they’re meant to serve. Even when there’s undeniable proof, they’d sooner fall on the sword than turn against a fellow officer.

All of the people he trusts are in this building.

“I’ll speak to Jess.” Gil sighs. None of them argue, with Ainsley still processing his words and Dani and JT stirring in the anger of yet another corrupt cop. It’s Edrisa who breaks the tension.

“Bright, why don’t we make some tea for your mom?” It’s a small question but the relief on Malcolm’s face is immediate. His answer is an eager nod and quick steps. He knows the steps of his mom’s drink by heart but her presence is an ease on the pressure.

Ainsley’s heel taps 3 times. It’s an anxious tick to keep her own tears at bay. Dani stands and tosses her head at the door. “Let’s go on a drive.”

Her eyes go comedically wide. “Me? No, I’m fine.” Dani evens her with one look. When a Whitly says their fine, it is a guaranteed lie. “Well, everyone should eat and I doubt Gil has enough food for 7 people.”

He laughs but knows what each of them are doing. His walls are thin. Without the noise of casual chatter, either Whitly would be able to hear their mom and if it got tense? It would be something Jess wouldn’t want either of them to hear. He swells, just a little, feeling grateful that his team will take care of his family.

Now for him to as well.

When he comes in Jessica looks annoyed, knowing that he needs to go through the process of questioning all over again. “Dani and Ainsley are going to get food.” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can send them to your favorite diner.”

“It’s not my favorite.” She pushes and it makes him smile. He’d taken her to a rundown diner shortly after Martin’s arrest. It was a hole-in-the-wall place, the food greasy and burnt coffee permeating the air. It was a place where nobody would recognize her, everyone too focused on just getting by to be caught up on the socialite drama. They frequented there for years and no matter how many times she insisted it wasn’t her favorite, her eyes lit up in a special way when she ordered the cherry pie.

“Sure it’s not.” He sits in the seat across from her. Her eye roll is a gratifying one, it’s clear she’s beginning to feel more like herself. “So what didn’t you tell Malcolm.”

She gapes, ready to defend herself. But he tilts his head with a knowing stare. She sighs, annoyed and relents. “I told him most of it.”

“Most?”

“How I got shot, stabbed.” She looks to the door, “He wouldn’t leave until I did. After I told him…” That the killer is a cop, he finishes in his head, “he didn’t trust anyone else to question me.”

“Did you talk about Freddy?” The look on her face is enough to tell him no, she hadn’t. “We found his family.”

“God.” She breathes.

“His name was Francisco Garcia, he was a volunteer at Claremont.” Her face drops, already coming to the realization before he says anything. “His mother is Dr. Garcia.”

For a moment she sinks back into herself. For one terrifying moment he thinks she’ll shut down again. And then she laughs.

It’s deep and bitter, where every emotion is so strong, so overwhelming. Too many tears had been shed in the past two weeks that the empty laugh is haunting. He knows it’ll be in his nightmares. “Of fucking course.” She takes a deep breath and he knows if she were in her own home she’d be throwing something. But since it’s not she controls herself not to break anything of his. “He was connected to Martin.”

“That’s why you went to see him.”

“Yes.” She stands, her energy too much now. She paces back and forth in the small space between his bed and closet. She turns back to him, eyes wild with unkempt rage. “You know what he asked me?” She shakes her head. “He asked someone broke into our home. Our home!” She tosses her head back, her wild curls flying with the motion. “That bastard hasn’t lived there for 20 fucking years and he dared to call it our home. And,” She gasps remembering more. “And he looked at me. Concerned! Like he has any fucking right. It just-” Another gasp. “It reminded me of-”

He walks to her holding his hands out slowly. She eyes the movement warily but when he places her hands on her shoulders she breathes evenly again, though still furious. His fingers stroke the exposed skin from where his shirt that she was wearing had slipped down.

She steadies herself with his touch. “What gives him the right? He doesn’t care for us. He wants to control us.” Her eyes light again. “And- He knew! He knew that bastard is a cop. That all this time. When he threatened Malcolm and Ainsley. And he acts like he cared!”

“The killer threatened Malcolm and Ainsley?”

“I wasn’t cooperating. He told me he’d bring them in and make them choose between me or a stranger.” Gil takes a shaky breath. “And Martin knew. I called Malcolm our son.” Her voice breaks at that, her head bowing into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and her own come to grip the back of his tee shirt tightly at his shoulder blades. She clings on like if she loosens her hold for even a second, he’ll disappear.

He presses a kiss to her temple whispering soft comforts to her while they rocked back and forth. He rubs soothing circles between her shoulders careful of places where he knows that bruises still linger. When she finally calms down he doesn’t know what to say. If he lets her speak first she’ll apologize, pull herself away from him. He won’t let her do that so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. “You know, Malcolm punched a journalist.”

This laugh is lighter. Her shoulders shake in a new way, alleviating all the tension in the room. It fills the hollowness that her confession had left. She must have pictured it because her laugh gets louder and he can’t help but laugh too.

And he knows they’ll be ok.

#prodigal son #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #gilica #jessica whitly x gil arroyo #jessica x gil #gilssica #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #malcolm bright #Ainsley Whitly #prodigal son AU #kidnapped au #notgonnarememberthis fics #find your way (back to me)#find your way (back to me) chapter 12 #fanfic #y'all ready for the end

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

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“A Helping Hand” - Oneshot?

“A Helping Hand” - Oneshot

My Masterlist - Here

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Malcolm Bright x Reader

Word Count: 3,082

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color Chunks or lines of text that are in italics means that its (Y/N)’s thoughts.

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Death (Murder Victim), Anxiety, Fears/Phobias (Specifically focusing on sharp objects, bugs/insects, water, and the fear of imperfection), Gunshot, Talk of Suicide, the joys of writing about a serial killer based on fear.

Summary: Working a serial killer case hits a bit close to home with the latest victim. Malcolm offers a helping hand.

Author’s Note: This all started because I tried to think of how Malcolm would handle a situation involving someone who suffers from dermatillomania. This is a bit of a selfish piece because my own anxiety, depression, and ADHD manifest itself in the form of skin picking and biting a lot.

Please read the warnings because this is a bit heavy with death and anxiety and fear talk. I do hope that this ends up making you smile though.

This is not beta-read so please let me know if there are any mistakes!

If you guys like this story or want this “Scarecrow” killer to be continued, let me know. I already have a little bit of an idea on how to make this into a series. <3

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

~~~~~~~~

You weren’t a rookie by any means, you have been in law enforcement and a little bit of psychology backgrounds for the last 5 years. But you were the newest member in this part of the NYPD.

You really didn’t have a choice but to grow with and trust your team with the crazy shit that’s happened over the last few months. Lately, everyone has been going crazy trying over a serial killer dubbed as the “Scarecrow.” He or she took inspiration from the Batman villain and started to prey on people with phobias.

Malcolm had some theories, but for now all you knew was the type of person that the killer targeted and no other obvious correlation between the victims. While Gil, JT, and Dani went out for lunch, Malcolm was at his desk going over the file while you found yourself stuck in the big meeting room during your break, staring at the board full of what your team had so far, trying to find anything that had somehow gone overlooked.:

Vic #1 - Omar Klinden. 25 years old. In a relationship, boyfriend’s alibi checked out. Omar was an entomophobe, someone that fears any sort of bug or insect. He was found tied to a chair in a storage unit that had three walls full of different types of bugs in glass cases, a tarantula, a handful of cockroaches, and some flesh-eating bugs on him. Cause of death was strangulation.

Vic #2 - Daphne Stewards. 26 years old. Single. Hydrophobe, someone that fears water. Found hanging above her bathtub full of water. Shallow tubs of water were laid all over the floor, preventing her from walking away if she had somehow gotten the noose from around her neck. Cause of death was hanging.

Vic #3 - Giorgio Lucinta. 33 years old. Single. Aichmophobe, someone that fears needles or pointed objects. Found tied to his dining room table with a multitude of knives, needles, and scissors stuck in the table and hanging from the lamp above the table. Multiple cuts were found over his body. Cause of death was loss of blood.

The victims didn’t know each other. All three were in therapy for their phobias, but they all saw different therapists. Each body was found in different areas of the city. The only thing connecting them was the fact that before they died, they were tortured by being forced to endure their own personal fears before being murdered.

Scarecrow isn’t physically taking anything from the victims, which means what they are taking from the victims is pleasure. They enjoy seeing people in complete and unfiltered fear for their lives. Each murder has shown more and more craftsmanship. They have been taking more and more time to set up something elaborate with each victim. They--

Before you could keep going, the door behind you opened to Malcolm with a sort of excited smile on his face.

“Gil called. We got a body.”

~~~~

“Victim is Wendy Undurmein. 26 years old. She was an analyst at the Cyrane theater down the road.” Gil gave you the rundown before you even entered the building.

“Cause of death?” You asked while slipping on some gloves, interested to know why you and Malcolm were called.

“Gunshot wound to the head. It looks like suicide.”

“So then why are we here?” You could hear the slight annoyance in Malcolm’s voice, as if the case wasn’t interesting enough for him.

Gil just motioned for you to follow him. He lead you through the apartment building and onto the third floor. JT and Dani were in the hallway, talking to a couple who you assumed to be the neighbors of the victim. Behind the normal yellow crime scene tape on the door of apartment 3538 made you realize why Gil called.

Wendy was tied to a chair in what you think to be the dining room, except every piece of furniture was replaced with an excessive amount of mirrors and lights circling and pointing at the chair in the center of the room.

“This is why I called you in.” Gil steps aside and lets you and Malcolm begin your observations.

You started by looking at the victim, Wendy. She looked younger than 26. Her shaggy bobbed brunette hair framed her delicate facial features. She was most likely wearing what she wore to work that morning. She had been wearing makeup, but you could see where some of it melted away from the tear tracks seen around her eyes and down her cheeks.

She was tied to a nicer made wood chair, but only by her waist and ankles. Odd for a supposed suicide victim to tie herself up before shooting herself. Her head was thrown to the side, from the gunshot wound on her right temple. You follow her right arm down to the floor where the gun would have landed after she shot herself, but there was no gun in sight.

While you were inspecting Wendy, Malcolm was wandering the scene, absorbing everything he could and trying to figure out the meaning of the mirrors and lights or the reason why the rest of the apartment looked normal compared to this single room.

“Where’s the gun?” You peak through a break between a couple of mirrors and find Gil watching Malcolm to make sure he doesn’t mess anything up. He shrugged his shoulders a little bit as he answered you.

“No gun.”

“What do you mean ‘no gun?’ Unless I’m seeing things, she has a bullet hole in her skull.”

“I mean there was no gun found at the scene of the crime.” Gil shifted his gaze to you tilting his head slightly, making it really click as to why you were called.

“Someone else was here before, during, or after this all happened.” Malcolm piped out the now obvious truth from behind one of the mirrors, inspecting it to see if there was anything odd about it. Dani and JT walked in as he spoke.

“I’m assuming before and during. Right after the gunshot was heard, the neighbors called 911 and reported it. When they came in, it was just Wendy here.”

You panned around the scene, trying to find anything else, but then you realized that no one had mentioned the elephant in the room: The mirrors and lights.

“All of this makes a bit more sense if there was someone else here.” Malcolm motioned to the setup, no one spoke up.

He turned to you as if to ask, “What? You don’t see it?” And you had to admit that you could see some possible things, but you were sure that he had a bigger and more coherent picture in his head. You motioned for him to go on.

“These are set up to make sure that Wendy had nowhere else to look other than at herself. The lights are set up so that virtually no shadows would be cast on any part of her, making every pore, line, and hair visible.” He stood behind the chair with Wendy’s body still tied to it, looking at every mirror to see the different angles. “I gotta say that some of these angles are pretty unflattering.” He paused, thinking out loud. “Maybe that was the point: To show the imperfections.”

“Could also be the reason why she wore so much makeup. To try to hide any blemishes,” Dani spoke up.

You and Malcolm swapped. Now he was inspecting the victim and you looked at the scene. But you didn’t look at the mirrors, you looked at the rest of the apartment. Everything was in order. The bed was made as if it was a hotel bed, the towels on the towel racks were perfectly hung. She had awards and degrees hung up perfectly aligned on her wall. Showcasing her achievements.

Imperfections. The word kept sticking out in your brain when something clicked: She was trying to prove that she wasn’t a screw up; that she was doing good things and good work. She wanted to be as perfect as she could be.

As you kept looking and piecing more and more together, Malcolm’s discoveries validated your theory.

“She has small cuts around her fingers as if she was picking or biting at them. Her lips look bitten up too.”

“So? It’s New York and it's been cold out. Maybe it's just the weather making her skin dry or somethin’?” JT questioned.

“Check the inside of her cheeks.” You speak up, a bit panicked from the kitchen, finding everything in picturesque form like the rest of the apartment. You had also found the various pills on her counter. One bottle was paroxetine, an SSRI for treating chronic anxiety disorders, making your thoughts race as you realized the possible severity of this case.

“Excuse me?” Gil spoke up, confused as to where you were going. Malcolm had looked away from Wendy to watch you walk back towards them, noticing small psychological hints that the others wouldn’t. Your eyes were flicking to different parts of Wendy, your breathing was slightly shaky, and you had a look that told him that you were trying to keep your cool while your mind was frantic.

You kept your breathing as controlled as you could, but you felt your chest tightening. You know these signs because you have lived through them. You tried to not focus on your hands while you explained your thought process.

“I think this may be a Scarecrow victim.”

Gil walked up next to you, you felt yourself starting to nip at the insides of your cheeks as he whispered “Are you sure? This doesn’t look like it fits his profile. We can’t just throw that out in the air without knowing 100%...”

Malcolm was curious but cautious, so he stayed silent as you went on, keeping a close eye on you to see if you were going to be okay.

“Wendy had anxiety. She--”

“So does most of New York. That doesn’t mean she’s a Scarecrow Vic.” JT quipped.

“Hear her out.” Malcolm defended before giving his attention to you, motioning for you to go on.

“Wendy had anxiety. It could be generalized anxiety disorder, but I think it's more than just ‘generalized.’ You kept saying imperfections and it made me realize how much she valued perfection… and feared imperfection. The fear of imperfection is called Atelophobia. It also means to fear not being good enough.”

You were visually focusing on Wendy’s body, but as you said “phobia” you saw Gil step away, sigh, and run his hand over his face from the corner of your eye. He, and everyone else in the room, were beginning to believe that this was the work of their serial killer. Malcolm knew about the phobia, but kept listening to see how far you could explain before needing help.

“She has her proudest achievements hanging perfectly on her wall to try to validate herself. Her lips are chewed up and there are signs of permanent damage at the skin around her fingers where they’ve been continuously picked at for an extended period of time.”

You subconsciously hold your hands and try to not scratch. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Malcolm.

“Wendy saw or felt when her skin would get dry and start to peel and view those as imperfections, making her pick and bite until she couldn’t anymore. She was trying to get rid of the mistakes.” You paused, trying to keep yourself in check. “And I’m sure if you look at the inside of her cheeks, they’ll be bitten up too.”

You were going to try to explain the mirror set up in correlation to the phobia, but your hands started to shake as you thought about your struggle with anxiety. Malcolm could see that you were unsettled by something and took over, seeing how it all worked together.

“The killer set these mirrors up for the reason we said earlier: to make Wendy see herself. They manipulated her into seeing all of the lines or dots or blemishes or what have you, progressively making her more and more scared of herself. Knowing that this phobia stretches to the idea of not being good enough, the killer most likely pointed out examples of when she messed up. Even the smallest of mistakes could set off Wendy’s spiral. They then gave her a choice to either live in fear and shame or to kill herself. And after exposing her to her phobia so intensely, she chose the gun.”

You just nodded as turned to walk out of the room, not making eye contact with anyone as you quietly said “I need to get some air.”

Gil turned to follow you and see if you were okay, but Malcolm was already on it as he put a hand up to Gil that said, “I got this.”

You found the exit to the alley behind the apartment building and found a spot against the wall to sit, close your eyes, and try to breathe. As soon as you sat down, you unknowingly start picking at the cuticles around your nails, old habits coming back. Your chest was tight and you couldn’t slow down the shirt, quick breaths that fled your panicked lungs.

You heard someone open the door a minute after you and thought nothing of it until you heard someone sit a respectable distance from you. You didn’t bother opening your eyes figuring it was Gil or Dani.

“Hey. If you don’t get your heart rate down, you're going to pass out.”

Your eyes shot open as you realized that Malcolm was the one that came to check on you. After a second, you realized that it made sense why he would come out to try and help. He has a better understanding of psychology than anyone on the team. All you could do was nod your head in understanding because you knew that you had to calm down, but it was just harder than expected.

“Would it help to try to follow my breathing?” You nodded your head, which prompted Malcolm to sit a bit closer next to you against the wall, making his breaths more audible. Slowly but surely, your breathing started to even out. Malcolm reached to his side and produced a water bottle that he had gotten from his car.

“Here. Take a couple small sips. Sorry it’s not cold, but it should still help.”

You did as he said and then started to fidget with the water bottle. It was better than picking more at your fingers.

“So how long have you had dermatillomania?” Malcolm asked cautiously, scared that talking about it might make it worse.

“A majority of my life.” You sighed out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Malcolm was watching you closely, looking for any signs that your anxiety would flare up again. You figured that he was curious and deserved to know how you came to the conclusion at the scene.

“When I was in college, I started seeing a therapist. We thought I had atelophobia. But after a few sessions, we realized that it was a mix of GAD, depression, and ADHD. The dermatillomania is the way most of that energy comes out. It’s mostly in high anxiety situations or when my ADHD is really bad. You have your tremors, I have” you looked down at your hands and realized you had begun picking again and that your finger was now bleeding a little bit. Raising your hands up, you sighed in annoyance, “this bullshit.”

You plopped your hands down in your lap and looked up at the sky, closing your eyes and taking another few frustrated deep breaths.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Without opening your eyes or moving away, you responded. “Well, I figured if anyone on this team was going to understand and respect it, it would be you.” You both half chuckled before you returned your gaze to him. “Thank you for listening and for having my back up there.”

Malcolm waved his hand to dismiss the second part of your thanks and then remembered something. You looked as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bandaid he had snagged from one of the med kits at the scene. He held out his hand as if to ask for yours. You gently gave it to him and he proceeded to bandage up the fingertip that you had been picking at. Once he finishes, making sure it's not too tight or uncomfortable, he holds your hand for a little bit longer as he speaks his mind.

“I know how bad this job can get for people like us that have mental battles going on. And now that I know at least a little bit of what’s going on, I want you to know that you can come to me for help if you need it. If something in a case isn’t sitting right with you, or you need to go and grab a coffee for a distraction, or even just someone to find a bandaid for you, I’d be happy to lend a helping hand.” He ended with a true and contagious sympathetic smile that you don’t see very often on the face of Malcolm Bright.

“I really appreciate that. I will probably take you up on it.” He nods in contentment. “This offer does go both ways though, Bright.” He looked at you with a slightly tilted head. “I know you have a lot going on in that mind of yours that I may not fully understand, but if there is ever anything I can do to try and make it a bit more pleasant, let me know.”

“Sounds like a deal, (Y/N).” He gives your hand a squeeze before letting go. The two of you sit there in silence, focusing on your breathing together for the next five or so minutes. Without warning, Malcolm stands up and extends his hands out to you with a smile. You give him a questioning look.

“I could actually really go for some good distracting coffee right now, and I would like you to come with me and be equally distracting. If you want.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about this strange man that made you feel comfortable. And after dealing with your anxiety more than you had hoped for, you find yourself reaching for his hand.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

#prodigal son fandom #prodigal son fanfic #Malcolm Bright x Reader #Malcolm Bright Fic #Malcolm Bright imagine #Malcolm whitly x reader #malcolm whitly fic

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