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#criminal minds suspect behaviour
iluvreid · 1 month
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WHY DOES CRIMINAL MINDS SUSPECT BEHAVIOUR END ON A CLIFF HANGER?!??! I FEEL LIKE IM GONNA GO CRAZYYY
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gold-onthe-inside · 6 months
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i hate hate hate that we got so little on sam cooper on suspect behaviour. the snippets we get are so fucking interesting too like he was in a psyops unit (which is basically us war propaganda unless i'm mistaken), basically adopted a british sniper, he went to seminary school, he was given up at birth, worked alongside a convict to gather information on a case, and like... we're really not gonna unpack that? at all?
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bakedspoonie · 24 days
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BACKDOOR PILOT!! I forgot about the spin off, I love Forest Whitaker! I think I liked the it but I can’t really remember, if i recall correctly it only got a season maybe even only half. Which was fair it’s kinda unnecessary, they could have just added Cooper to the team. I wouldn’t complain.
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the-mad-closet · 9 months
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hear me out hear me the FUCK out. may i present the deadly combo of touch starved AND sensitive to touch Prophet. him breaking under the slightest attention from mick... all it takes is one touch from him to get Prophet in the space. WHAT DO WE THINK
Listen, I'm saying yes for a million reasons, but not the least of which because FUCK YES
Prophet spent six years in prison, where they aren't big on physical touch unless in a fight, of COURSE he's touch starved. But touch SNESITIVE?? Oh, Mick has so much fun with him.
@constantones
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rachel-rxth · 1 year
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might do a silly little thing and change my blog to a mick rawson theme
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peachymilkandcream · 2 months
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Fraud|Part 3|Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader
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(A/N: Super naïve readers are always so much fun. The fact that this girl just worships the ground he walks on when he's like this is honestly great. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)
WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.
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"But All Might promised me! He said if I did as he asked then I would be let go! This isn't fair!" The criminal kicked and screamed, enraged that his interrogation was not going as planned.
All Might scoffed, the fool honestly believed that the Symbol of Peace and Justice would allow any criminals to walk free even if he had made some kind of deal? It was his own fault for being so greedy, believing that the Number One Hero would pay him to intimidate a fellow pro.
He should add stupidity to his list of crimes.
"Now not another word of you with this ridiculous tale. Why would All Might hire a thug like you and then turn him in? It makes no sense, how do you expect me to buy that outrageous story?"
"It's the truth I'm telling you, he approached me saying this chick he knew had something of his and he wanted me to get it back. He couldn't do it himself since he didn't want to damage his reputation so he hired me. He promised me my freedom and five hundred bucks!"
"To go and buy more of those drugs you're on that made you come up with this story? Seriously kid, you're trying my patience, if we don't get some answers soon it'll be a lot worse for you in court."
"I am telling you the truth! Why won't you believe me!?"
"Because criminal scum like you always try and defame All Might so he has to retire. It's disgusting."
"He's not the man you think he is! He'll do what it takes to get his way!"
"Enough of this." All Might spoke now, stepping into the room. His smile gone from his face and replaced by an angry glare. "Your attempts to soil my name have gone far enough." He glances at the Detective. "Could I have a moment alone with the suspect? I can get him to talk."
"Oh, sure All Might-" He sheepishly gathers his things before exiting the room, leaving the two of them alone.
"Now listen here you asshole, our deal was that if I did what you said you'd pay me and I'd split. What the hell is this?"
"Shut your mouth criminal. I would never agree to such heinous actions, and if you keep spouting off that I do then..I guess I'll have to adjust your behaviour."
The threat was heavy in the air. While All Might said nothing incriminating the other man knew that he meant it. And with a hero like All Might, a physical altercation is the last thing he wanted.
"So I suggest, when that Detective walks in here, you confess it was out of pure greed and some drug money, and we'll leave it at that. You can go to court and pay for your other crimes."
"And if I don't take the fall for you?"
Even his grimaces vanishes, turning into a thin line. "Then I suppose I'll show you what happens to those who spew out utter nonsense."
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"Ah Detective, the criminal confessed, but only after attacking me. He got so upset that no one believed his story that he just sprung into action. Admittedly I roughed him up a bit to teach him a lesson, but you should find he's very cooperative now."
"What would we do without you All Might? Now this guy can stay off the streets and everyone can sleep a little easier." He salutes the hero.
"Just doing what I can citizen." His phone rings, making him pause. "I'm sorry I have to take this, do you mind?"
"Of course not, please." He gestures for All Might to pass.
Which he does quickly before holding the phone up to his ear once in a secluded spot.
"What is it Nighteye."
"Bad news for you I'm afraid."
"Really? What is it."
"Your little friend was on the news again, apparently she's been singing your praises to every camera she can find about how you saved her. She's gaining some attention."
"This is bad. Too popular and I'll have to switch targets. Especially after I already started making my move-"
"That's not the worst of it."
"Then stop stalling Nighteye and tell me!"
"She was spotted today with a man, when asked by some nosey paparazzi she admitted he was a romantic partner."
All Might's expression darkened farther, another obstacle.
"I'll take care of it."
"If you kill him it could be a problem, grief might not let her be so susceptible to your plans."
"You have a point," He thinks for a moment. "Then the course to go is to lead her in the direction I want her to go and then cut him out of her life."
"Isolate her."
"Exactly."
"Be careful All Might, you don't want to get too risky."
"Trust me I won't." He pauses, examining a letter she had sent him through his fan-mail PO box, thanking him for saving her again.
"I already know what I'm going to do."
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finniestoncrane · 1 year
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Indulgences
BTAA!Scarecrow x Female!Reader, word count: 4k commission: jonathan crane and secretary!reader give in to their mutual desires, which reader needs to be encouraged to partake in 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: daddy kink, oral sex, rough sex, persistent behaviour
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At least I don’t have to walk through any alleys. At least I get to stick to the busier streets, the nicer neighbourhoods. There’s an artisanal coffee shop on the way, not many people can say that. It’s fine, this is luck. You’re lucky to have this job. You’re lucky to have any job, really. But this one is perfect. It’s fine. You can do it. He doesn’t have any power over you. He’s your employer. He’s your boss. Yeah, he’s Jonathan Crane, but that doesn’t automatically give him a one-up. He likes you just as much as… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you will not give in to this temptation.
Each morning, as you took the short trip to work from your apartment, you had to give yourself a pep talk. A reminder that this was worth it, in the long run. That you would be foolish, and quite frankly almost ignorant, to give up the comfort you managed to find, in Gotham of all places, because of some uncontrolled emotions. You had a job that provided enough money for you to afford a nice apartment in a nice area, that challenged you, but not too much, and brought you a genuine sense of value and worth. But it did mean you were exposed, almost daily, to the difficult charms of Jonathan Crane.
Working with Jonathan was a blessing and a curse. The security of employment with a reputable, at least society facing, psychologist was something that was rare in Gotham. Add to that the element of safety in being employed by one of the city’s more venerable and amicable villains, there was limited risk of being caught in the crossfire, unlike the employees of Sionis or Cobblepot. And he clearly trusted you, as he hadn’t been shy in telling you of his criminal escapades, his alter ego as The Scarecrow. In fact, you’d only been working with him for a month before he took you into his office and revealed the secret.
You supposed for someone like Jonathan, if he’d sensed even the slightest hint that you might not be one to trust, he would just have you killed. You’d thought as much at the time, as you stood, heart racing, swallowing your fear in your closed throat, sweat beading on your forehead. But the fear you had shown, it seemed to comfort him. Very on brand for that strange, yet deeply interesting, man.
Realising how silly you sounded, as you tried to quantify all of the thoughts in your mind, you stopped on the street corner across from the building which housed his office. You liked him. You really liked him. But it felt like a risk, or a mistake. Something about it seemed to suggest to you that it would only end in tears, or worse, in your demise. And it was this contradiction, this predicament, which made it so difficult for you to show up to work each day. Only worsened by the fact that you had begun to suspect that Jonathan had similar feelings for you.
He had always been flirtatious, part of his charm you guessed. He was like that with everyone. Little jokes, a lingering touch on the arm or the lower back. He’d frighten people, speaking soft and low, making them get closer to him before giving them a little jolt of fear. It usually had them giggling, sweating, confused. On several occasions he’d pointed that out to you, the line between fear and arousal. It all had to do with adrenaline, he’d say. And he was very right about that.
As you entered the office, you took your place at the desk in the waiting room. Checking the calendar, you realised it would be another two hours before the first patient arrived for their appointment. That gave you plenty of time to get comfortable and settled. But just as you began to repeat your affirmations, taking your slow, long breaths in a bid to calm your body, Jonathan entered.
“Ah, you’ve here. Always there to brighten my morning, huh?”
“Jonathan, lovely to see you. I’ve left coffee on your desk.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest. Why don’t you come in and join me?”
“Is that… mandatory? Or work-related?”
Jonathan offered you a wry smile as he looked you up and down, scrutinising you.
“Would that make a difference? C’mon, we’re all friends here, right?”
You swallowed your nerves at his wink, trying to maintain your composure, the control you still had over the situation.
“I suspect that this might be more than a friendly discussion, Crane.”
“Oh! I do love it when you’re feisty in the morning.”
He walked into his office, still speaking to you.
“If you feel like joining me, make sure to bring that snarky attitude with you. Drives me crazy.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, picking up a pen and twirling it as you absent-mindedly stared at the wall in front of you. With an irritated mumble, you got up form your desk and followed Jonathan into his office, standing against the closed door and staring at him with your arms folded.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I’m here now, what do you want with me?”
Jonathan let out a dry chuckle, as his pupils widened, staring at you from his desk.
“Oh, bit of a dangerous question, don’t you think? I could do a lot of psychoanalysing on that. The phrasing, the way you’re standing, the words you chose, the slight implied innuendo despite your obvious attempts to seem uninterested. All of it, very telling indeed.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so. Why don’t you take a seat?”
“I’d rather stand, thanks.”
“A contrarian, through and through.”
“I’m really not.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, smiling wide as you proved his point. It infuriated you to no end that despite as hard as you tried to gain the upper-hand, he was always one-step above you.
“Fine, I’ll take a seat.”
You chose the softer of the two armchairs that faced his desk, avoiding eye contact with him until it was impossible to ignore the silence any longer. When you looked up to him, he caught your eyes, staring into them intensely. His stare held you, it was almost hypnotic. He was a commanding presence in your life, and you hated that as much as you enjoyed it. In moments like these it was difficult not to give in to your temptations. To succumb to the harmless but persistent flirting. To accept that you had a crush. Maybe get it out of your system even. But you sensed that someone like Jonathan Crane wasn’t up for being quickly used and discarded. He had to conquer his love interests, and you were determined not to let that be the case, despite how he made your heart beat faster and your body tremble with just a few innocent enough words.
From the drawer on his side of the desk, Jonathan produced a folder marked confidential, with your name on a label on the top right hand corner. He thumbed through the pages in silence as you sat nervously. You wondered what it could be. A dossier of reasons that he wanted to kill you? Or reasons he wanted to sleep with you? It could have been anything with him, and the anticipation only served to help you conjure up more fanatical and nerve-wracking theories.
Reading from the pages, he made an occasional soft noise, a small ‘hm’ or an ‘ah’ as he took in the information. Eventually, you grew more irritated than you were nervous, and coughed, clearing your throat obviously in the hopes that he would get whatever he intended to do over with.
Without looking to you, eyes remaining on the pages as he scanned them from top to bottom, reading whatever words were so intensely interesting to him, he finally.
“So… would you like a performance review?”
“A... a performance review? Are you kidding me?”
“No, why would I be?”
“That’s what you called me in here for?”
Jon smiled wryly as he peered over the top of the folder he held in his hands.
“Partly. I thought it would be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone. I love that phrase, don’t you? Such violent imagery. It conjures up such a guttural feeling. So… connected to our ancestry, and yet the convenience of modern life is hinted at to-”
“Jonathan. I have a job to do.”
“Uh-huh, and who provides you with that employment?”
Leaning back in your chair in slight disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at him as you spoke.
“Are you threatening me, Mister Crane?”
“Not at all, sugar. I’m simply… reinforcing the status quo here. The hierarchy. The way that our… relationship works. You’re my employee, after all. And I’m your boss, correct?”
With a scrutinising glance you tried to figure out what he was getting at, but couldn’t make it past his cool exterior.
“As technical as you can get, yes.”
“And yet, we’re also friends, are we not?”
“I suppose so.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling deeply complimented by the suggestion.
“You’re my employee, and my friend. But perhaps… maybe… I would like you to be a little more than that.”
“More…?”
“Oh, come on. As if you can’t see it, as if you don’t want the same things I do. As if we aren’t already something a little bit more than that.”
Trying to contain your smile, you feigned innocence, or ignorance, and looked up and to the right, as though you were trying to think of what he might be suggesting.
“Listen… we flirt. Constantly. I can see it, you can see it. Everyone can see it. I have clients who are so unaware that they don’t even recognise their mother is to blame for their issues, and even they can see it.”
“You talk about me with clients?”
“That’s besides the point. Look. We work great together.”
“Yes, in the same office.”
“Not like that, you know what I mean. You and I, we gel. We get on, we have a connection. I think we’d make an excellent pair, don’t you?”
Jonathan had stood up from his seat as he spoke, walking around the desk and stopping in front of it, where he leaned in repose on the surface when he had finished his argument in the little debate you two were caught up in.
“I want people to see us together, more obviously than they do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want them to see you with me. I want them to know who you’re with.”
You kept your face still, not wanting to give anything away, but desperately wanting to scream at the concept he was offering you. You didn’t want to be owned by Jonathan, you didn’t want to make a big thing out of whatever you two might have. It seemed that he wanted the opposite though, and admittedly, his determination to have you, to possess you, like a trophy he could show off, was deeply intriguing and more than a little arousing.
“In a sense that…”
“In a sense that they wouldn’t dare try anything with you, because they knew who you belonged to.”
Trying to maintain your air of composure, your dignity in the face of potential ownership, you tilted your head and stared him down with an unamused look.
“Belonged to? So I not only work for you, but I’d be your property too? Sounds… unpleasant actually, Jon.”
He stood up from the desk and moved closer to you, his stance commanding, charisma oozing from his very being, his voice trance-like as he spoke to you so directly and convincingly.
“Come on now. We’re both intelligent people. We both know what’s going on here, what’s going on between us. It would be so easy to just admit it and let it happen. I don’t have a human resources department, so there’s no one to get on our case. What is it that you’re so worried about? What makes you so hesitant?”
He had answered his own question, really. Jonathan was so deeply, intensely interested in you, in everyone. He could learn more about you from the way you lifted a coffee cup than most people could in a decade of spending time with you. You could only imagine what information he might glean from fucking you. And then where would you be? You’d be employed by a psychotic psychiatrist who knew everything about you, that’s where. Only in Gotham.
“Just let go. Let yourself give in to pleasure. I promise, I’ll make it worth the risk of this little dalliance.”
His smug grin, pressed into his cheeks so firmly that it accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes had your chest heaving as you breathed heavily. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It was tempting, so tempting. And though you were reluctant to give in to the feelings you held for him, it was deeply flattering, and very encouraging, to see him outwardly express those same desires.
It couldn’t possibly be as bad as I think it will be. I want this. I need this, I think. It’s gone beyond just a silly workplace crush, with witty remarks and back and forth flirtatious teasing. This is… something deeper now. And the longer I hold off, the worse it’s going to get. Perhaps it would be better to just get this out of my system. Do it now and get it over with. And then I’ll-
You were pulled out of your thoughts, ruminations and worries swirling at the forefront of your mind, by the feeling of Jonathan’s lips on yours, his hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady. The grip, forceful but deeply romantic, held within it the exact amount of passion, it turned out, to have you falling into him. Melting into the embrace, you wrapped your arms around his, feeling your leg beginning to snake up the back of his pants. He gripped it, fingers digging into your thighs and bringing it higher, around his waist, as he stepped forward, pushing you, stumbling, back into the wall where he deepened the kiss.
Biting, licking, sucking at your lips, Jonathan moaned hungrily against you. You yelped as he bit a little too hard, and he pulled back quickly, soothing over your bottom lip with his thumb and offering an apologetic smile.
“I’ve wanted this for a while. You’ve held out on me. So I apologise if I’m a bit… rough.”
His eyes moved from yours and began mapping out your body, taking in every inch of you.
“It’s been very difficult to watch you, a free agent, outside of my will.”
You scoffed, but took a sharp inhale as he stared into your eyes again, smiling at you, wry and mischievous.
“You’re so dead set on not indulging me. Why is that?”
Trying to avoid his intense gaze, you turned your face, but with a soft motion he brought you back around with his palm on your cheek.
“Is it because you’re ashamed of how much you want that? It’s ok to want to be wanted. It’s completely normal to want to be owned. I should know, I’m a psychologist, remember.”
He let his fingers trace down your throat, following their trail with his tongue as he made his way down your front with kisses, planting them softly, his breath warm against you, as he got to his knees before you, resting his face against your abdomen as he ran his hands up and down your sides.
“Every curve.”
His hands pressed into you, grabbing and squeezing at your body, your waist, your hips. As he let them reach behind you, cupping your ass, you let out of a soft noise, which made him smile.
“Every moan.”
You giggled as he made his way back up your body, bringing his hands to your face, fingers skating over your lips, making you shiver at the touch.
“And indeed, every quiver. They belong to me. And only me. Understand?”
Completely entranced by the way he held you, you nodded slowly but with enthusiasm.
Smiling at you, a grin that made your blood run cold, he leaned in to whisper into your ear once more.
“Then would you kindly lay down on my desk, please. And remove all the clothes on your bottom half first.”
As you stepped past him, pulling at your clothes in a hurry to get them off, his palm caught your rear, smacking the cheek and bringing forth an amused yelp and giggle from you. It made your cheeks flush, the way you had reacted. You hated how much you liked it. And he could tell, as he watched you lean back on the desk, bottom half completely nude and exposed. Running his palms up your thighs, past your stomach and to your neck, he loosened a few of the buttons on your shirt and kissed at your neck again.
Distracted by his moans and ministrations against your sensitive skin, you hadn’t even noticed he had removed his own pants and underwear until he was pressing his cock inside of you. You moaned, letting your breath out in a slow exhale as you smiled, unable to stop yourself. It felt amazing, better than you could have imagined or hoped. And you’d spent a lot of time hoping and imagining, though you wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone, even under threat of Jonathan’s fear inducing drugs.
Jonathan, enthused and encouraged by your reaction to his cock twitching and throbbing within you, began to rock his hips, pressing himself into you further, picking up the pace and grunting with each movement. At the angle you sat at, legs hanging over the edge of the desk, perched on your rear alone, he gripped your hips, holding you steady so he could push up into you, hitting the right spots as he did so. Occasionally, past the panting and guttural groans, you could hear him laughing. He was so smug, so proud of himself. So happy to be claiming you. The thought drove you wild, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to you.
As Jonathan continued to fill you, pumping his substantial length inside of your cunt, pressing his tip as far as he could, he clutched at your back, holding you tight, close to him. In lustful desperation, you gripped his hair, drawing his mouth to your neck, begging him silently to ravish you, kiss you, bite you, suck you, whatever he was willing to do for you. And luckily, his participation extended to all three, as his teeth clenched softly on your neck, nipping at it before his tongue flitted over the stinging pain and soothed it, his lips enclosing around you, sucking at the sensitive skin.
“Ooh… Jonathan…”
“Sorry, was that too hard?”
The faux mocking tone sent a tingle down your spine, and you clung to him tighter out of instinct.
“Just… just a little bit…”
He leaned back for a second to offer you a sham pout followed by a cruel smirk.
“My most sincere apologies, I just wanted to make sure you were marked.”
Diving back into your neck, he bit harder this time, lips covering over the stinging pain in a smooth kiss.
“I can’t have any doubts as to who you belong to.”
His teeth marked your flesh, imprints of his bite pattern across your neck, soft ovals of burst blood vessels where had sucked on you, definitely leaving enough of a trace that it was impossible to deny that someone had claimed you. The notion of being entirely his was getting easier and easier to submit to with every passing second, and you could barely contain yourself. It didn’t surprise you at all when you started whispering to him, your own mouth ahead of your brain as you exposed your secrets and begged to be his.
“If you want me, Jonathan, then you can have me. Take me, fill me.”
With a struggled grunt he forced himself deeper, an action you would have thought impossible, and you could feel your abdomen tightening with the pressure of his cock buried so fully within you.
“I want you to make me yours, Jonathan. Mark me, inside and out.”
Jonathan’s breathing quickened, his pace getting faster and less steady as he rutted clumsily against you, hips jutting forth to meet yours as they rocked into his body. His grunting had been reduced to a whimper, almost a whine, as he clung to your skin, holding you as he used you, appreciated you.
“What do you want from me? Tell me. Don’t be shy.”
“I want you to cum inside of me. Paint my fucking insides, Jonathan. I want to be yours. Fill me, take me, just… please, god please don’t let me lose a single drop.”
With a guttural laugh and another quick bite at your collar bone, Jonathan’s body shuddered as he shifted you back and forth in time with his own thrusting, cock twitching as he felt himself coming undone. His seed spilled in thick, white ropes within your cunt, spent entirely within you and holding himself inside, pressed tight against you, to keep as much of him there as possible. He lingered for a few moments longer, enjoying the warmth, the possessiveness over you. His fingers tensed as they clung to your body. He didn’t want this moment to end, and neither did you.
Finally, pulling himself from within you with a low moan, he sat back down on his office chair, holding his slicked cock in his hands as he felt it softening, finally spent and relieved of the tension he had been holding back, that you both had been holding back. He panted slightly until he had caught his breath, his age showing in the way he braced himself, trying to recover from the shaking orgasm that had all but consumed him entirely.
“There… phew… no doubts now, huh?”
You were standing, trying to straighten your clothes out as best as you could, feeling his cum dribbling down your inner thigh and coating your panties. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, knowing you belonged to him, feeling like you were still marked as his territory, his possession, even after he was no longer holding you physically. You had to admit that it was divine, something you had craved before but never would have let yourself admit to.
“Doubts? About what?”
Jonathan leant his head back, groaning in mock frustration before he snapped back down, eyes focused on your body, his gaze drawing up over you and back down as he took you in, still flushed and sweating, marked by his teeth and his fingers.
“Oh, sugar. Don’t be obtuse. It’s no use, I know you’re a sharp girl.”
Playing up, just to irritate him, you stared blankly with a slight frown. You shrugged your shoulders lightly and shook your head a little.
“You wanted that. I wanted that. And I continue to want that. As, I expect, do you. I think we can both feel the tension around us, around the office. So let’s not beat around the bush here!”
He laughed as he spoke in a lilting cadence, trying to seem casual. But you could sense the desperation in his words. And you finally felt like you had the upper-hand.
“We’ll see, Jonathan.”
You walked towards the door, turning as you opened it and stepped back into the hallway.
“We’ll see.”
Leaving him alone in his office, you returned to your desk with a wide grin on your lips. Finally, you felt like you could let yourself indulge in your desires. But not before you teased Jonathan a little longer. He deserved it, after all. And you deserved to feel in control, after everything you put up with from him. A little bit of sweet and sour in your relationship wasn’t anything new, but the method in which it was employed, a change in pace and hierarchy, it made you feel excited to come into work tomorrow.
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blackbird-brewster · 21 days
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Weekly Criminal Minds poll. Reblog for more exposure, etc.
Send CM poll ideas
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
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Minimal Losses // Jake Seresin
Chapter One // The Brief
Summary: A Monday morning briefing on the new upcoming detachment goes far beyond what any of the TopGun aviators could ever imagine
Warnings: Mentions of death, Jake Seresin x Reader pairing, NCIS & Criminal Minds jargon.
Word Count: 3.3k
Author Note: This one is definitely going to be a slow burning love. If that’s your style. But trust the process and you’ll thank me later when the Angst arrives. MASTERLIST
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“Those are your mission parameters—study them, learn them, eat sleep and breathe everything that their is to know about them.” Admiral Bates stood before his rag tag team of highly skilled, highly qualified TopGun aviators. Dreading the detachment he was about to send them on. Some would know the full extent of what was actually happening. Others wouldn’t. For your own safety and theirs. “You are dismissed—however, could Lieutenants Bradshaw, Floyd, Garcia, Trance and Seresin please stay back for further instruction.” Admirals Cain and Bates looked all shades of concern as they tried to navigate uncharted territory.
You watched carefully as some pilots left without question, some a little cautious. But as always they follow their orders, leaving the hanger with the parameters. Wondering why you didn’t follow, considering you weren’t asked to stay behind.
“There’s a lot more to this detachment that meets the eye.” Admiral Cain was who had set this who thing up. His voice bellowing through the giant aircraft hanger turned makeshift classroom. “But I’ll hand you over to Special Agent Bradshaw and Spacial Agent Kasper.” All heads turned back to you. Shock and utter silence lingered on you—like you were a bad car crash that you just couldn’t look away from no matter how hard you tried. Everyone was just told you were a Lieutenant? What the fuck was going on?
“You knew something fucky was going on—!” Jake hissed under his breath as he pinched Rooster’s tricep. Forcing the proud moustache growing Lieutenant to jump from his seat slightly with a yelp. Eyes wide in anger. Teeth gritted.
“I know nothing!!” He indeed knew most. But nothing to do with you, that his wife had kept a secret. “What is your problem! God, one women doesn’t look at you like you’re some sort of God and suddenly your whole worlds collapsing around you!” Rooster fired back through gritted teeth and a snarl. Pinching Jake back. “Dickhead—“
“Uh thanks Admirnal.” Agent Bradshaw held one hand to her lower back and another over her stomach. She was getting bigger and bigger every day—but she refused to send DiNozzo out here to accompanied you. Instead sending him an McGee to another carrier where another possible suspect was currently stationed. A long shot—but still worth leaving every stone unturned. She wanted to do this one herself. Be your supervisor, your guiding light, a mentor and friend.
“Listen, you all already know me pretty well I’d say so we can skip the introductions—“ Rubbing her belly softly, Agent Bradshaw turned to her husband briefly. “But I will take a small second to remind each and every one of you that what you are about to be briefed on is highly classified material and will not be discussed with anyone outside this room.” Reminding the class but mostly her husband. “Not even you’re fellow aviators who were just dismissed.”
The room fell silent, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out and pumped in replacement Co2. Heavy and thick. Taking the opportunity to stand from your chair at the back of the class. Walking nervously down the aisle knowing Jake was burning a laser focused glare into the back of your head. And yes, he had every right to be mad.
“This is Special Agent Y/n Y/l/n with the Federal Bureau of investigation.” She’d told you to if anything call her Gibbs, not one big on formalities—but you stuck with Agent Bradshaw. It was her correct title after all. “More specifically with the Behavioural Analysis Unit.” Waving with a sheepish smile you tried to swallow the dry lump that had formed in the back of your throat. Public speaking wasn’t something you were gifted at.
“You guys can just call me Kasper, or Kas—“ Trying to break the ice you knew was thick enough to run on. “Everyone just calls me Kas.” Fighting the urge to just sink into yourself.
“I’m really confused—“ Fanboy piped up from his seat trying to reread his mission parameters, looking for the part that mentioned The Naval Criminal Investigative service and the Federal Bureau of Investigations. “What did I miss? Am I missing a page? I can’t be the only one who’s lost?”
“You aren’t the only one—“ Jake hissed as he leaned back in his chair, clicking his pen a few times. God he felt sick, weak. What was this feeling? He wasn’t actually mad, if anything he was impressed and a little intimidated. But you didn’t seem to be all that terrifying. If anything he learnt a valuable lesson to ask more questions in his vetting stage. “You might wanna make quick work of an explanation, Agent Kas.” The way Jake addressed you made you forget how to breathe. “Some of us are really confused.” He wasn’t talking about the mission, he was talking about you. Jake Seresin was confused about who he’d been balls deep in Saturday night and Sunday morning.
“Kas?” Agent Bradshaw stepped aside and gestured for you to take over—clearing your throat you looked at Jake who had begun to soften his gaze a little, knowing he was having an effect on you. “It’s all you.”
“Um—okay.” You had to extinguish a sigh to compose yourself, shaking your hands briefly before you moved back behind the podium. Shuffling papers, and organising what you needed to explain to the small group of trusted aviators. Tapping the bunch of papers before neatly placing them in your hands against the wooden podium, you paused just one more time before fixing your glasses.
“Seven months ago seventeen year old Virginia Emery and nineteen year old Stacey Dicker were found beaten, tortured and partially dismembered in the backyard of an old abandon home that had been vacant for years.” The room fell quiet and suddenly Jake didn’t really feel a need to make silly witty remarks. “Rhode Island—this happened in Rhode Island.”
“Two months ago, as most of you may know by now.” Agent Bradshaw interrupted politely as she moved to stand beside you. “Former Commander Thomas Kazanksy’s niece was found, beaten, tortured, and partially dismembered just down the road from where her boyfriends home was. She’d gone for an afternoon jog.” It was still hard to comprehend, Jake had met the former commander's niece a handful of times, as had Bob. It was hard to process what a tragedy her death had been. “All victims are former members of the same sorority house—Agent Kas here was in my emails the second the story broke—“ Jake had noticed how you’d settled into yourself a little now as you go further and further into your explanation.
“All three have been linked by just a few key factors—“ You could hear a pin drop it had become so quiet. The entire room had their eyes on you as you spoke with a heavy heart. “All three victims had been members of the same sorority.” You repeated. “And had been beaten so badly that the indent of a US Naval Academy class ring could be particularly identified in some of the bruising.”
“No way—“ Robert Floyd had to hold his stomach. He felt sick. This wasn’t something he was good with, you know, the concept of murder and untimely death.
“We believe that the unsub is currently abroad, posted out to the USS Lexington.” There was a lot of evidence you couldn’t really discuss that pointed to your suspect. It had been narrowed down to two men. “It’s probably needless to say we’re incredibly concerned for the women currently on board.”
“With all due respect?” You turned your attention to the only woman sitting before you. “What has this got to do with us?” Natasha ‘Pheonix’ Trance, you were impressed by what you had read in her file before Jake had joined you at the Hard Deck. She’d asked a question that was on everyone’s mind.
“Agent Kas here will be going undercover in order to get onboard the USS Lexington without fear of spooking out suspect—she’s highly trained in behavioral analysis and it was her case to begin with, the US Navy and the NCIS are happy to assist.” Agent Bradshaw continued, still softly caressing her growing baby bump.
“Your detachment is merely an excuse to have her surrounded with a team we thought would be of absolute value considering the alternative would have been to send her in alone.” Admiral Cain explained. Your eyes had since fallen back to Jake, his had never left yours. He could see the apology practically oozing from you. “You have been chosen to know every aspect of this situation, the others will simply continue about the detachment with the parameters they were given—to them, Kas here is Lieutenant Ava Jackson. WOS, who’s joining you all on a routine overwater detachment—updating your skills flying over vast distances and practicing over water defensive manoeuvring.”
“I’m still so confused—“ Fanboy sighed as he let his head fall back against his chair.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Jake taunted as he cracked his knuckles absentmindedly. “Who will Kas be flying with?” Bradley looked to his wife who already had a look of regret in her eye. Noticing the way she just stood quietly putting the pieces of the puzzle together she hadn’t really given much effort to on Sunday when you had showed up to the final brief late. Despite all her gut instincts telling her this wasn’t a good idea—Agent Bradshaw said the one thing Jake Seresin was excited to hear about all morning.
“Who was it?” Agent Bradshaw smirked at you as she walked with you towards the elevator. Being seven months pregnant had started to become problematic, especially when it came to walking up and down stairs. “And don’t give me some lame excuse Kas, I know the face of someone who’s just been dicked down for the first time in a long time.” Agent Bradshaw only knew because she herself had worn the same face before. Distance, job titles and long hours all played major factors in her relationship, her marriage.
“I think I’m just gonna go grab my files and head to the briefing room.” You tried to change the subject, not one to want to divulge your extracurricular activities. “Honestly, Gibbs—“ You turned to the woman who had taken you under her wing. She knew it was hard for you to level with her on anything less than a professional basis. Hardly ever steering away from calling her by her professional title. “I was, I just slept in—“
“Honestly Agent Kas, as long as it wasn't mine I really couldn’t care less who you’re sleeping with.” The heavily pregnant women sighed as the elevator dinged, stepping in with a waddle. “But I have rules that I live and will probably die by. Rule three? never be unreachable.” Nodding in response you simply followed her into the elevator, taking out your phone and creating a note. “Are you writing that down?” You knew you wouldn’t forget—but you wanted your supervisor to know you listened and would commit everything she said to memory.
“It was just some guy I met at the bar.” You mumbled quietly, doing your best to open up. It wasn’t easy for you, at all. But you wanted Agent Bradshaw to trust you. “He’s on the full clarence detachment list.”
“Like I said, as long as it wasn’t mine you’re fine.” Agent Bradshaw just shook her head. “But get tested, I don’t know where half those men have been recently—and especially Jake Seresin.” Bradshaw teased hopeful that it wouldn’t have been Jake. He wasn’t really your type, she hoped it had been someone like Bob. You two would make a great duo. “Oh god and please remember that you’re like a literal fetus—“
“Ma’am I’m twenty six—“ You didn’t want to argue, but you had always been seen as the child of the group. Everywhere you went. Especially since you graduated high school at twelve years old. A literal genius if there ever was one. For someone who was meant to be so smart you’d made some poor fucking choices this weekend.
“Still—I think the closest one in age would be Mickey, he’s like thirty two?.”
Jake and Javy had been the only two at the Hard Deck on Saturday night, no one else had really felt up for it. And Javy Machado wasn’t on the list for full clearance.
“You, Hangman—she’ll be flying with you.”
***~***~***~***~***~
Jake had remained in his seat well after he’d been dismissed. He’d watched as Bob and Fanboy spoke to you about having to learn a few things about being a back seater—basic knowledge for emergencies and in case someone ever asked you in a pinch. You told them you’d done some basic training over the past couple of weeks but would appreciate their help and guidance. Feeling very welcomed by the aviator with the glasses that if anything exaggerated the blue in his eyes.
Jake had patiently waited until they were finished to approach you, taking notice of the way you stiffened a little more with each step he took towards you. He really didn’t like that reaction—he really didn’t want you being afraid of his reaction to learning the truth. Sure, he’d never been run out on, but he had a feeling if he just gave you a chance to explain? He’d understand. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and he just so happened to have a soft spot of the introverted FBI Agent that had managed to captivate his entire heart in the timeframe of a few hours and half a box of condoms.
“I’m pretty sure there were a few things we did Saturday night that could have broken a few federal laws.” Jake taunted as he sat back on the top of the table, arms crossing over his chest as he eyed you up and down. “As long as you aren’t planning on arresting me I’m pretty okay with starting a fresh—“ He paused for a moment just taking you in. “A fresh start seems pretty nice considering I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.”
“Jake, I am so unbelievably sorry for leaving the way I did.“ You tried to apologise, it was really out of character for you to have gone home with a guy you’d just met let alone sneak out his bathroom window. “Bradshaw had been calling me and I shouldn’t have been unreachable, I just thought if I tried to leave again you would have asked me to stay and I would have unraveled.”
“Rule number three.” Jake chuckled as he watched you sorting out your stuff. Papers laid scattered on top of the podium, packing them all back into their respective cream file holders. “And I understand.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.
“Come again?” You stopped what you were doing to give Jake all your attention. “Wait, why are you still being nice to me?” You had been expecting Jake to never want to talk to you again. You’d expected him to be ruthlessly angry with you, do some yelling about how you’d taken advantage of him. You expected with his obvious reputation that his ego would be bruised enough that he’d be blinded by rage and cuss you out in front of everyone—you expected him to tell everyone he knew just how much you let go for him that night. How far you let him take it. How he’d broken your facade, but he didn’t do any of those things. He was simply still the guy who wanted you to so desperately stay for some coffee. The only person he’d ever asked to stay for coffee.
“You tell me? Kas, aren’t you an expert on behaviour?” Jake pushed himself off the table he’d been leaning on as he sauntered closer to where you stood beside the podium. “Miss FBI, you tell me why I’m still here, analyse me.” You were stunned into silence for a second or two. Clearing your throat before starting your analysis.
“If I had to make an assumption based on the situation, maybe a similar case study.” You didn’t want to get your hopes up because no man had ever fallen for you. There was simply no reason for you to be the one who stood out in a crowd. Perhaps that was, no—it definitely was the reason you had gone home with Jake. He’d paid you every ounce of attention you’d been so starved of for so long. But why? Why would he when all you’d ever been to anyone was a walking computer.
“I’d say that you’ve formulated a few feelings, potentially skewing your judgment.” Your eyes never left Jakes as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your mouth. Up and down, and god those fucking glasses drove him crazy. “I’d say you’re so used to getting everything you want that the thrill of a chase for once actually sounds intriguing.” Jake smirked in response as the gap between you both barely existed any more. His hand lingering on your hip—keeping you close.
“Damn, you’re that good huh?” Biting his bottom lip momentarily as his mind wandered back to Saturday night. How different you were just for him. “I’d say you’re pretty spot on sweetheart.” You tried not to take notice of the pet name that made your heart skip a whole beat. “Sorry, my bad—Agent Kasper.” Jake corrected himself but he still saw how much he’d affected you. There was a glint in your eyes for just a few moments before you decided to bring the both of you down to reality. Or what you’d been made to believe was your reality.
“The only problem with that, is that I’m really not worth your time, Lieutenant—“ It was something about how the light in your eyes dimmed as you truly believed what you were saying. Jake hated that, hell if anything, it confused him. Why would you think so little of yourself? “I think you should cut your losses before you realise I’m just another notch in your belt and we can go our separate ways both telling ridiculously over dramatised versions of the same story.” You knew Jake would never tell the story about the time some girl snuck out his bathroom window willingly with pride to anyone. Besides his best friend maybe. Bradley Bradshaw. And Jake had a feeling you’d never tell anyone about the hookup you had where you had to wash your glasses with raspberry-scented hand soap after having them coated in spirts of hot cum. Expect maybe your supervisor, Agent Bradshaw. So you’d both lie, overcompensate to make the situation less embarrassing for all involved.
“If I didn't think you were worth my time I wouldn’t have given you so much of it at the Hard Deck, and at my home, and again the next morning trying to get you to stay.” Jake was wearing his whole heart on his sleeve. He’d never wanted to explore a situationship as much as he wanted to explore this one he had with you right now. He knew your name—that was it. But you had managed to take him hostage. “I don’t know if you know this about me but I’m not usually the guy who begs, but I’ll possibly consider it if you don’t wanna see where this goes?”
“Jake—“ You sighed heavily as you collected your things. Holding your files close to your chest, heading towards the open doors with Jake hot on your tail. “You’re gonna be my partner, technically—like my wingman if anything. I need to know that you’re going to have my back more than anything, I can’t be playing silly games with a man twice my age who at a moment's notice could decide suddenly somewhat submissive introverts aren’t his favorite play thing anymore.” Jake didn’t respond as he kept walking beside you, heading in the direction of the locker rooms. He couldn’t help but to think about the last time he was challenged like this. His mind was running empty because he’d never met someone who’d been so complex and interesting as you.
“Do I get a badge?” Jake smiled as he stopped in his tracks, your frowned in response as you stopped and turned to face him. Sun in your eyes.
“What are you going on about?” Had Jake not listened to a word you had just said? Or was it more his way of saying he had your back. You couldn’t tell—you didn’t know him from a bar of soap.
“Well if you’re my back seater and get a flight suit and everything. I think it’s only fair if I’m your partner I get a badge.” Jake grinned, he was trying to get you to open up. Trust him, there were clearly underlying self worth issues you had going on Jake would have to learn to navigate—but he thought why not start by getting you to smile. Mission accomplished he thought to himself as you gave him a soft chuckle and a smile so bright it made Jake's heart skip a beat. Something he’d never felt before.
“Would you settle for a fresh slate?” You asked softly, knowing you probably couldn’t do much about a badge. Sticking your hand out for Jake to shake, he did without hesitation.
“Absolutely Kas, absolutely.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Tags // @auroraboreallisfine @buckythewintersquirrel @a-lil-bit-nuts @bookaholics-stuff @ilovewhalesharks444 @a-serene-place-to-be @alexsisrebekah @rhirhikingston @caitsymichelle13
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butchhamlet · 6 months
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hi :) i don't know if it's really my place to say since i'm not sure if i actually have ocd or not; but as someone who's struggled with a lot of horrible taboo intrusive thoughts, guilt, rumination spirals and possibly trich this summer your ocd hamlet post really resonated with me.
i've been rereading hamlet and hamlet being an ocd sufferer just reframes so much of his acting and his “antic disposition”. to me it feels like he’s putting on masks upon masks upon masks not just because he NEEDS the control (if it’s all an act it means i don’t actually want to hurt anyone right? if i’m pretending to be insane i’m not actually insane?) but also because he’s afraid of being known. like my deepest fear is probably anyone knowing the extent of my intrusive thoughts and the things i feel guilty about and obsess over. so if he says all this nonsense nobody will know what’s happening in his mind—which i guess was probably the original intention anyway, the idea that claudius wouldn’t suspect him of treason if he acted insane, but i think it still fits.
there’s also his first soliloquy, “o, that this too [solid/sullied/sallied] flesh would melt, / thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!” i like the reading of “sullied” because it really highlights that feeling of being contaminated. hamlet feels tainted by the immorality in the danish court, but if we’re going by the ocd reading, he also feels tainted by the horrible intrusive thoughts and obsessions he has (tying in with what you’d said about him having sexual intrusive thoughts rather than um. an o*dipus complex.) the disgust towards the flesh can also be related to physical compulsions like body repetitive behaviours (e.g. skin picking).
this one is a bit “trust me bro” but the “i have of late, but wherefore i know not, lost all my mirth…” line is just. exactly what my experience was. i’ve always had intrusive thoughts, but one afternoon everything just Went Downhill and suddenly i couldn’t stop thinking about it for a couple weeks. i’d be normal for a while before it all started happening again. again, i know in the play he DOES know why he “lost all his mirth”—he saw his father’s ghost—but well.
the famous scene where he yells at ophelia too feels so striking. “get thee to a nunnery. why wouldst thou / be a breeder of sinners?” feels like such a PERSONAL fear of raising a child or being responsible for another life. obviously this isn’t unique to ocd but i imagine for people who have taboo themes (harm ocd, scrupulosity ocd, especially pocd) it’s especially prominent. i feel like the word “sinners” is really important because someone with moral/scrupulosity/religion-related ocd would be very preoccupied about the idea of sinning, and that guilt is something you would never wish on anyone, least of all a child. (HE wouldn't know this, but ocd has genetic factors so even though i don't know if i have it, the possibility of passing this guilt and anxiety on puts me off ever having kids even more).
that ties in to the next lines too: he says, “i am myself indifferent honest, but yet / i could accuse me of such things that it were better my / mother had not borne me. …. what should fellows such as i do / crawling between heaven and earth?” hamlet admits himself he’s “indifferent honest”—rationally he’s probably not the Worst Person In The World Ever—but in the next lines he does seem to consider himself the Worst Person In The World Ever. that kind of all or nothing thinking (small mistakes puts you in the same category as the worst, most morally repugnant criminals) is apparently really common in real event ocd. (https://ocdspecialists.com/real-event-ocd/) hamlet goes on to list everything wrong with him (“i am very proud, revengeful, ambitious…”) which itself feels so much like an intrusive thought. that self-condemnation just feels like he's trying to cover up his anxieties about not being a good person but telling everyone he's not a good person so nobody gets the wrong idea. (he's not an inherently bad person, but he can't possibly convince himself of this because what if he believes that and he starts doing bad things? what if not beating himself up makes him lose control and become even worse? better keep suffering to keep himself in check.)
sorry for clogging up your inbox!! i really wanted to put this out there somewhere but i didn’t want to put it out on my blog since i’ve never really talked about potentially having ocd (? i don’t seem to ALWAYS have it maybe i was just going through a rough patch mid 2023). again i don’t have a diagnosis or anything i’m just going by my own experience and hopefully i’d read enough about it for this to not be way off—though please correct me if i am!! hope you’re having a really nice day, thanks for reading this if you made it all the way through :)
!!! i'm so glad the post resonated with you! honestly, i've gotten some of the sweetest messages about that post from people who saw themselves reflected it in it, which is astonishing to me because i wrote it basically for myself. so it makes me very happy that it means something to you :]
not just because he NEEDS the control (if it’s all an act it means i don’t actually want to hurt anyone right? if i’m pretending to be insane i’m not actually insane?) but also because he’s afraid of being known. like my deepest fear is probably anyone knowing the extent of my intrusive thoughts and the things i feel guilty about and obsess over
YEAH. YEAH. YEAH! i sometimes catch myself having the paranoid thought that people around me can read my mind--i don't actually believe this, but i have a simmering fear of my Worst Thoughts sort of seeping out of me, so reframing hamlet in this light is. ohhhhh man. and sullied really is such a good word for it! the stains! the contamination! miasma theory was right <- JOKE
(also, "if i'm pretending to be insane, i'm not actually insane, right?" is the kind of thought that ocd will chase in CIRCLES, my god.)
i’ve always had intrusive thoughts, but one afternoon everything just Went Downhill and suddenly i couldn’t stop thinking about it for a couple weeks. i’d be normal for a while before it all started happening again
BTW ANON THIS IS PRECISELY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME AT AGE 14. SHAKING YOUR HAND. DOING A FANCY CODED HANDSHAKE WITH YOU. it really can get so much drastically better or worse at once and it's often (in my experience) hard to tell why, but even when it's not hard to tell why--i think the reasons for Losing His Mirth can be multiple. like, my OCD always gets way worse when i'm stressed about unrelated things. i can see a hamlet whose father's death pushes him over the edge into his worst-ever symptom flare, which exacerbates the grief, which exacerbates the obsessions, which...
i feel like the word “sinners” is really important because someone with moral/scrupulosity/religion-related ocd would be very preoccupied about the idea of sinning, and that guilt is something you would never wish on anyone, least of all a child. (HE wouldn't know this, but ocd has genetic factors so even though i don't know if i have it, the possibility of passing this guilt and anxiety on puts me off ever having kids even more).
YEAH. GOD. OH, MAN. anon your fucking MIND. (i personally read hamlet as having religious components to his OCD; this is at least in part me projecting lol but i think there's evidence throughout the play that he is a deeply religiously conflicted person, & this line is part of that.)
(he's not an inherently bad person, but he can't possibly convince himself of this because what if he believes that and he starts doing bad things? what if not beating himself up makes him lose control and become even worse? better keep suffering to keep himself in check.)
ocd will literally be like "okay so i'm not allowed to believe i'm a good person because if i let myself off the hook for one second i will become complacent and self-justifying and then become a bad person. could this possibly be maladaptive and self-harmful thinking? no, it's the everyone else who is wrong."
AND ABSOLUTELY DON'T FEEL SORRY FOR ANYTHING! i fucking LOVE talking about ocd hamlet this ask was SUCH a delight to receive. me clicking on this and seeing how long it was
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also tbh anon it sounds like you are definitely having symptoms that could be grouped under OCD, and ultimately diagnostic labels are just the words we apply to groups of symptoms. which is to say, i can't armchair-diagnose you, but looking into coping skills/tips for OCD might help whether you "have" it or not!
thank YOU my comrade for the brilliant thoughts and analysis :3
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gold-onthe-inside · 8 months
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sorry, but just imagine the iconic cm elevator scene but between mick and prophet. prophet getting freaked out by small spaces, feeling the walls cave in on him. mick joking around until he realises prophet's having a panic attack. and mick, who's always the class clown, always keeping things light, using that same humour to calm prophet down.
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v-cain · 2 years
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CRIMINAL MINDS
"The Great Prank War of The BAU" platonic! Penelope Garcia x m!reader
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ally-drabbles · 1 year
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I'm watching/rewatching criminal minds and this is something that started going around in my head while watching 7x15. At first I thought I will write this funny nothing where the reader breaks Prestons expensive stuff faking dumb (to get back at the comment to Derek) and Hotch will figure out what she's doing and ask to knock it off before he gets a bill for everything. But somehow it became something different and I do not know whether i should continue this. What do you say? (p.s. gif's not mine)
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"I can't tell you how happy I am that you are here, gentleman." Preston said. Your eyebrows shoot up and you are not able to control the throat clearing that leaves your mouth and all three men raise their eyes to look at you. "And a lady, of course." Preston adds gesturing to you. The nauseating chivalry dripping in his voice makes you want to gag. Hotch raises his eyebrow to indicate for you to behave. Preston looks back at the men. "Maybe now someone will stop these savages."
You have been standing there, watching men talk. Preston might be openly racist, but obviously his bigotry did not stop at race. You can bet that he's a homophobe and a misogynist. You were grateful that years of FBI training and some acting classes now allows you to control your expressions otherwise it would be pretty clear what you thought about his comments. Your face now partly hidden by your hand to mask some of your expressions. "I'll cut back on my media appearances... for now" Preston said standing to leave the room. As he reached the door, he stopped and turned to look at you with a flirtatious smile.
You quickly stood up from your perch on the table and reached the door. "I'll show you out" you said with a smile on your face. Preston ginned at you and turned to Derek and Hotch "You two enjoy your day". And with this words you and him left the room. You stopped him at the elevator by placing your hand on his shoulder, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Mr. Preston that this investigation is causing trouble for your compain." "Oh you don't have to worry about it, Miss..." "Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N." You said biting your lip and looking up to him through your lashes. His responding grin was nothing if not satisfied. "Y/N." He nodded. "Well as I said, Y/N, nothing to worry about, just a minor detail". He said as the elevator door started to open up. You said your goodbyes and as he stepped in the elevator and the door closed you shuddered and cracked your neck as if getting rid of some unwanted feeling.
"What was that?" came Morgan's voice from behind you. "What?" you frowned turning to him and tilting your head to look at him. "What do you mean what? You were flirting with him..." He said accusingly. It was obvious that Prestons behaviour bothered you so what the hell was your angle. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm just doing my job, we need to be on his good side." You said as both of you started walking to Hotch. ------------ "Alright, thanks, Garcia..." Morgan said ending the call. "Preston's a part of this, I know he is... You should have seen him in there". He continues talking to Emily. "He's a racist and a little shady, maybe, but a murderer?" she challenged him.
"I know it's just a feeling, but I know he's in this. We just need to figure out how..." "I should go talk to him." You volunteered. Everyone turned to look at you trying to figure out your point. "I was there with you" you said turning to Morgan. "You saw that I made connection with him, we can use this to our advantage" you reasoned. "It could be too risky..."Morgan doubted. "If he suspect anything and he really is murdering, this could go south very quickly." "C'mon..." you rolled your eyes. "He's a 6'2 bulk and very arrogant man who has a prejudice against everything and anything that is not a middle aged white male. And I'm a barely 5'2 "lady" who can play dumb. He already sees me as nothing but an admire who got into the beauro only by sheer luck or by sleeping around." You quickly held up your hand to silence the others. "I know the truth, but the point here is - we can use me." "She has a point." Rossi interjected. " Any chance you brought a skirt to this trip?"
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saltydumplings · 2 years
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Could I request a detective that doesn't realize they are being flirted with by a hero x villain couple pretty please? Like the villain and hero are both rolling their eyes so hard at their obliviousness. They adore the detective's brilliant mind when it comes to solving cases but "for a detective you really aren't that great at detecting what is right in front of you"
LOVE your writing so much! You truly do belong in horny jail 😂
Request #11
What do you mean I belong in horny jail? I'm clearly the most innocent writer on this site.
Cw: suggestive.
The detective rode the elevator in silence, their night bag hooked over one shoulder whilst they held a briefcase in the opposite hand - the smooth leather packed to the brim with equipment; their arm starting to ache from the weight of it. They shifted to hold it in front of themself instead, grasping it tightly in both hands as the doors of the lift finally slid open.
When the hero and villain had asked for the detective's help with a case, they hadn't exactly been specific about what kind of help they needed. Hence why the bag was so heavy: the detective had come prepared for everything. Largely, they suspected it would be a stake-out - the two had booked them all a room for the night, sending the detective all the details over email; the room was south-facing, the window directed out towards the coast as well as a small little circuit of alleyways that hooked around the back of closest bar. It wasn't the most active of sites for criminal behaviour, but the detective could easily see how the venue might appeal to villains with a little more money funding their illegal interests.
They walked the short length of the corridor, counting the room numbers before stopping at their appointed door. They had been given a keycard at the reception, but they suspected the hero and villain might have been there already and so felt it more polite to knock, their fist barely scraping the door when it opened before them.
"Detective, you came!" The hero practically beamed at them, smile wide and eyes excited as they hurried the other in - the detective raising their brow slightly as they caught sight of what appeared to be a glass of wine in their one hand.
They didn't question it though: the hotel was nice - very nice - and the night was going to be long.
"Well, you did say the matter was urgent," the detective stated.
"Oh, yes, very urgent."
They were directed into the room, the hero's hand coming to rest upon the small of their back as they led them inside. The villain was waiting there, holding a glass of their own as they leant against the round table that sat before the window - looking out onto the beautiful coastline below it. As the villain caught sight of the detective they smiled.
"Detective."
"Villain," they greeted back.
The villain's grin sharpened as their eyes ventured downwards, a subtle amusement lining their features as they caught sight of the other's briefcase.
"And what do you have in there?" they asked.
The detective brought the case up onto the table with a small grunt of effort, undoing the clips and flipping the lid back. "You, uh, weren't exactly specific about what you wanted my help with so I...well, I brought as much as I could - just in case."
The villain's smile grew wider still. Their gaze flicked back towards the hero. "See, love, I told you: you needed to be more specific."
Across from them the hero flushed slightly, a slight pout lining their lips.
"It's no problem, really," the detective rushed to assure, worrying a little that their comment may have offended the other. "From the location and time frame I deciphered it would most likely be a stake-out. The other equipment was simply a precaution." They turned towards the window, completely missing the way the villain held out a hand behind them - the hero begrudgingly slipping a twenty into the palm of their hand. "I take it our target frequents the bar below us often?"
When they turned back, the villain looked overly smug. "That's a very observant deduction, Detective."
The detective frowned slightly.
So...were they correct? The villain had said they were observant - they hadn't told them they were right. The detective opened their mouth, hoping to ask the other to clarify the matter when the hero interrupted them.
"Detective," the hero said, calling the other's attention as they came to sit - sinking down gracefully onto a plush mattress and red, silky sheets. "Might I draw your attention to the slight issue within the room: you see, it appears there's only one bed..."
The detective shrugged, turning back and starting to unload some of their equipment onto the table. "I don't think it'll be an issue really. We'll likely be up for most of the night and if we want to sleep at any point we can simply take turns."
A pause.
"Well sure, we could take turns..." the hero said slowly. "Or, we could always do the fun thing and...share."
A small line formed between the hero's brows as they furrowed - a look of confusion sweeping over their face. They looked back at the hero who was staring up at them somewhat intently and a thought came to mind that they were quick to brush aside, their cheeks tinting red at the idea that had passed through their mind. "Wh-why would we share? It, um, doesn't exactly seem practical."
The hero's heated stare became one of complete bewilderment. They blinked, mouth slightly agape, and as the seconds started ticking by the detective suddenly felt as though they might just be missing something.
"Detective?"
Their gaze went to turn back to the villain and they jumped slightly as they found the other directly beside them - so close they could practically feel the villain's breath ghosting softly along their cheek.
The villain caught the detective's chin within their free hand, indulging in the short hitch of breath the touch provoked in the other. "You know," they said, "for a detective you really aren't that great at detecting what's right in front of you."
The detective's blush grew darker. "O-Oh?"
The villain simply stared at them, not giving them an answer. Their gaze darted back to the hero and the other sent them a wink, the situation that the detective now found themself in quickly making itself quite clear.
"Oh."
The villain raised their glass, the brim of it just barely touching the detective's lips. The scent of a very, very expensive red wine combined with the villain's hold upon their chin loosening so that their hand could instead trail down lower - drawing a slow path down their neck and chest, all the way past their stomach only to stop at the hem of their trousers - was enough to make their mind draw a blank. The villain's fingers dipped below the fabric ever so gently and the detective's eyes blew wide.
"Want some?" the villain asked.
For the first time that night, the detective said yes. And, once they'd started saying it, they couldn't seem to stop.
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tiffanylamps · 2 years
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So, episode 1 jwds is on my mind again and I'm here to prove that this episode has all the ingredients to be a... quirky... rom-com... please bear with me and trust the vision (and don't take this too seriously, cause i'm not taking it seriously either)
(get a drink and strap in.... I'm going to mock them)
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ahh yes, it's Romeo and Juliet but instead of a fish tank, it's a partitioning wall in a police station, and instead of a masquerade ball, it's a weaponized meet cute
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we have the boys making comments about the new inspector. The editing in this scene makes a big point to show that DS is suuuuuper not interested in the conversation, oooohh noo, he doesn't care about the new inspector. Why would he? He's just some guy. He's not even listening to the conversation about how the new inspector is super smart, really physically fit, comes from a top university, graduated top of his year, and is very handsome.... who is also the son of the man connected to his sister's disappearance? oh. But Dong Sik doesn't care, you guys. He's not listening to the conversation!! Right, Dong Sik???
Dong Sik??
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Oh, so you were listening... and you are interested.
Hm.
also...
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(it's the same scene.... js. timestamp: 2.10)
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and how can we forget that Han Joo Won ISN'T HIS TYPE (he is) HOW ARE ANYONE SUGGEST SUCH A THING! (no one did) HOW DARE THEY BRING IT UP (he brought it up)
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you know... when i introduce myself to someone, i also like to be standing so close that my hand is basically touching their stomach
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tut tut... look at him being so into Joo Won's bratty behaviour. so, jw was kinda rude to him (he's kinda into it) but it's okay bc he's got the energy of a guy who knows he can [redacted] the bad attitude out of someone.
Now, our police boys have to reassign partners and sort out hierarchies. Dong Sik doesn't care, you guys, he doesn't care! Super not interested! Barely paying attention to the convo....
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until Gwang Young volunteers to be Joo Won's partner and... Dong Sik sighs and looks down??? He sure seems to have an opinion for a guy who's pretending not to care...
our boys get paired up because... of course, they got paired up. it's for the plot and because NSB is a matchmaker. (It's Arthur and Merlin all over again....)
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jfc! just bat your lashes and twirl your hair, it'll be less obvious
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it only took you an afternoon to get your hands on the new inspector?? nice going! genuinely impressed that you found a decent bullshit excuse to feel him up
of course, Dong Sik (who doooesn't have a thing for younger bratty men) would find Joo Won's ridiculous display of "i'm a loner, no one talk to me. I'll hiss if you try and befriend me, i'm too important for genuine human connection" act to be off-putting, right?? right?? cause it's a red flag.
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ffs, why is he smirking???
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okay, now, he's really getting into the swing of teasing Joo Won for his contrarian shit, isn't he?? Dong Sik's flirting in episode 1 is basically "you think you're hot? well, your face might be but your personality sucks.... (but that's why i'm interested)"
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then he's just straight up telling Joo Won that he likes him... but Joo Won has to go ruin things by being a little weirdo with a murder mystery plotline
speaking about murder plotlines...
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I also like to flirt whilst undergoing official police business... with the guy I think has a connection to the unexplained death of an unidentified body
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oh come now, is this really necessary???
Now, i know you're thinking that this poor Ahjussi is simping over the young hot bratty new-in-town inspector. "What a silly guy, he's flirting with the grumpiest guy in town. What a waste of time, jw is never going to return his feelings"... But it's is totally a two-way street from the start.
Everyone, I present to you, Han "I like to check out my suspect" Joo Won:
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he likes to bite his lip whilst he looks at one of his stalker pictures of him
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he gets turned on when Dong Sik recites the criminal code word-for-word by memory
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he's so impressed by Dong Sik's knowledge that he takes the time to check him out as he walks across the road (even checking his mirrors as he drives past just so he can prolong looking at him)
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apparently, he doesn't have "a thing" for "nut cases"... he says whilst looking the man up and down... you know? like a liar.
and sureeeee, let's have fun and pretend to believe him for a sec. Okay, he doesn't have "a thing" for an older man who he thinks is a "nut case". Fine... But that doesn't explain why
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he makes it a habit of looking at his lips...
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and at his stomach?? his hands??? his....??
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and his arse....
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he also sends a few flirtatious smiles at Dong Sik in front of their colleagues (a hjw version of a flirtatious smile is quite small)
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He also sneaks in a few little looks, all before finding an excuse to have one-on-one time with him and to talk about nothing and everything. (I wonder how long Dong Sik had been out of the room before Joo Won decides to follow him. He's sooo.... ugh! this guy. if i were the gang, I would assume they have the hots for one another. the teasing, stealing glances across the dinner table, sneaking off to have private conversations??? what can i say? it seems suss)
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and smiling at him... like this... after the guy, he's just accused of being a serial killer laughs at him menacingly. he finds it cute!!! he's a little weirdo who's into the guy he thinks is a sadistic serial killer... (pals, jw needs therapy asap)
So, yeah, from Dong Sik's perspective, episode 1 of Beyond Evil was a typical rom-com until Joo Won had to be a little creep and bring murder into the equation. It certainly brought a damper to their relationship but it didn't stop them from... you know...
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becoming good partners...
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rachel-rxth · 1 year
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OKAY WAIT YOU KNOW THOSE CAREER DAY THINGS YOU HAVE WHEN YOU’RE YOUNG?
EVIE COOPER BRINGING THE ENTIRE RED CELL TEAM
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