#as far as the title of this post and cutting room floor stuff
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I stumbled across a Japanese article where Fumito Ueda, Yoko Taro, and Keiichiro Toyama had a publicized discussion about their careers and the video game industry as whole. This discussion was organized primarily to celebrate ICO's 20th anniversary in late 2021. So the folks over at Den Faminico Gamer requested concept art from all across ICO's development cycle to present throughout the 3 pages of conversation. And I don't know who was responsible for the task of transferring that, but they gave them A Lot of concept art. Many of these sheets have not been shared by genDESIGN's twitter, or really seen on any other site to my knowledge. There's some exclusive stuff in here. And even if they were seen somewhere before, I still want to translate them to the best of my ability and share the info. So I'm going to guide you through the sheets I found the most interesting. I'll also try to provide context for any cut content and musings on the lore elements being spelled out on the page. [Spoilers for ICO under the cut]
CUT AREAS
Jail
[I've decided to leave the original page untouched in all my translation images, and keep all added text to the black bars at the sides. I'm also including plain Japanese text in dark grey, just so everyone is clear on how I am interpreting the handwritten notes.] This area is titled "Jail" or "Prison" and it was to be put on the second story of the East Arena. This means that, in early designs, the leftmost door was meant to be opened on arrival. It seems you would navigate the diagonal water slope, make it up to this area, and briefly move outside for the sake of slipping into one of these locked cells. After doing so, you move a shelf aside, find the sword, enter a fight, and then use the sword on the rope holding the far right arena door. Having a jail cell next to the arena is very intriguing from a narrative standpoint. Were the cells for those who broke the rules set in place by the arena's organizers? Or was the arena always intended to be sparring matches between criminals and outcasts? Why is the only way onto the balcony found through one of these cells?
Boatshed
[In the black bars, text relating directly to the contents of the sketch will have drawn elements next to them, so you can better see what translation is paired with what part of the drawing. If it ever gets confusing, shoot me an ask and I'll clarify/edit the post.] The day after drawing up the concept for the Jail area, the team sketched the Boatshed, which was also cut. This area is reflective of an earlier, less bombastic ending to ICO, which Ueda briefly mentioned during Sony's "Great Scene Sharing" campaign in 2011.
Also, to be honest we weren’t planning to have the castle collapse entirely like that. We were originally thinking to have the ending of ICO be much more modest, but somehow it didn’t give you a feeling of resolution that way. And so we decided “Ok, let’s make everything crumble into the sea then.” (laughs)
The most intriguing aspect of this cut concept is a kind of Idol Fence Gate that reacts to Yorda in the same way as the Idol Doors, only in this case it is powered by a mask. The mask's face shape is somewhere between a man and a bull, with the moderately sized horns completing the animal resemblance. There seems to be a gem or circular marking embedded into the forehead as well. The text makes mention that the gate 'listens' to the mask (assuming I'm translating that correctly), so perhaps it had a specific auditory or musical cue planned for when it reacts to Yorda? But perhaps not. A concept page like this would be the perfect place to write that idea in clear detail, after all.
Heroine Room Connection
This is not exactly a cut area, but it is certainly a heavily altered one. This spot would later become the floor of Spiral Staircase, where Yorda is held prisoner in the first act of the game. We can see this intention by its proximity to 'The Heroine's Room' and the series of Idol Doors set up as the introduction to Yorda's unique power. (There's even a sketch detailing how this arrangement of four idols are supposed to part when opened, and it matches up with the movement of the idols in Spiral exactly.) The most notable feature of this area seems to be a set of stairs leading up into a small room with a trench in it. In the trench is a box and a small crevice in the wall. The crevice is labelled 'Heroine', which, to me, implies that Ico might have been able to see or hear Yorda through this crack in the wall. But since this room is a dead end, I imagine you use the box in some way to activate the other set of stairs, which seem to have both a upward and downward status depending on whether you've solved the puzzle or not. This is very similar in concept to a puzzle presented elsewhere in the final game. At either ends of the room are two doorways. One direction is labelled 'Ko Building', which we will discuss later in this post. But the entrance to this room is through the Ritual Room... which we also have concept art for!
Ritual Room
Similarly to the last sheet, this sketch depicts elements that would end up placed elsewhere, but the overall design of this room was cut. The Ritual Room was seemingly designed before the team had come up with the final design of the Altar Room. The Ritual Room bears many of its elements, but has a much larger scope and seems to serve as a junction between several parts of the building.
Common elements include:
The floor raising and lowering to open a path to the Stage 13 Elevator. The notes even clarify that this will only occur in the game's "2nd act". In this version of the mechanism, a handrail rises up when the floor lowers.
Capsules in which to place sacrifices. Though they aren't clearly depicted, they seem to be embedded into the ground, rather than standing up.
Restricted access to the high up Idol Doors. In the final game, they lead to The Queen's throne room. Here it leads to Proto, the earliest room designed in the game. It's unclear how you earn access to the doors, but the 'OFF' label indicates that the stairs must rise, or else it remains a vertical wall.
But one big difference that stands out is the palanquin-like structure at the center, which reminds me of the structure that surrounds The Queen's throne. Given the title of the room, we can infer this was meant to be the spot where the Queen's ritual would be held.
Notes in the margins indicate two innocuous, but fascinating things: - The note regarding what might open the Idol Doors for the village men likely marks the conception of The Queen's Sword. - Yorda's voice was meant to be heard from this room, and she would've been singing. She doesn't get to sing to herself in the finished product, though I think that characteristic fits her well.
Flowchart of the Second Half
Once it became clear to Ueda that the ending had to be more resolute and bombastic, they devised the Main Gate Event and laid out a plan for all the places you would traverse on your journey to the throne room. You might notice that locations like Cliff Cage, Cogwheel, and Pipe have different prototype names and some visual differences. The first location on the journey back, later known as Cage, is titled 'Ruins'. It seems to feature a series of overhang structures jutting out from the cliff-side. Presumably, these would catch Ico after his fall. The titular cages of the present incarnation seem to be absent, but we can see them close by, in the area that will become known as Cogwheel. Instead named 'Subterranean Lake' in this document, Cogwheel seems to lack any of its characteristic mechanisms. In this sketch, one of the cages seems to have fallen from the ceiling into the water below. In the final game, we move from Cogwheel to the outer edge of the island, where Ico clings tightly to the ridges of the cliff-side. But in this concept art, all of that distance is spent on a new area, completely cut from the final release, called 'Trolley Jump'. It seems the trolley would make a second appearance in the game's puzzle design and Ico would have to build up momentum to make it over a huge gap in the tracks. The Pipe area is named 'Ravine' instead. And the metallic platform is set far lower than it is in the final game, where you can just walk across it to make it to the elevator. Here, you must descend onto it and then climb up into a cavern, once you make it to the other side. You might've also seen that the the Old Bridge is titled 'ICO Bridge' in this document. This is especially interesting to me, as the name ICO seems to serve a different purpose here than you would expect.
What is “ICO (イコ)”, really?
Kenji Kaido has stated in the Japanese Guidebook for the game that the name 'ICO' was just the title, and initially, was never attributed to the boy protagonist (Page 82). He was nameless and only referred to as 'Boy', much like the protagonist of The Last Guardian is currently. The game's filenames, the concept art, and even Kaido's own presentation of the E3 2000 demo to PlayStation Underground, back this sentiment. The term 'ICO' is never attached to the boy before June or July of 2000, when US gaming publications reporting on E3 2000's demo started conflating the title with the protagonist's name. Seeing as this is dated in March of 2000, it's safe to say the use of 'ICO' here has nothing to do with the boy. So what is it about? Ueda did also say that the name was a shortening of the term ICON... but I have additional evidence suggesting that in this specific instance, it was not serving as an abbreviation for 'ICON Bridge'. Take a look at this rough overview sketch from the margins of a different concept art page.
Aside from the points that indicate land and sea, the labels that plainly stick out are "イ棟" and "コ棟".
"I Building" and "Ko Building". We saw that last label earlier in the Heroine Room Connection section.
Knowing this, we can safely infer that it's called イコ Bridge because it connects the イ and コ buildings... But then why are they split in that way and labelled イ and コ? I still don't have an answer for this, though I do feel like the divide is related to the separation of class. The イ building is dedicated to The Queen. It contains both her daughter and the sacrifices she needs to complete her ritual. It's where her throne is. It's where she resides and does her work. Meanwhile, everything on the other side of this bridge seems to have been built for a larger populous.
Benches, recreational areas, spectated arena matches, a waterfall, a courtyard, a ballroom with a massive chandelier! You don't build a front gate and a bridge to the mainland if you never wanted people to enter... This place undeniably once had people who lived and worked here. They were all designated under the コ building. I have to imagine this is why a distinction is being made, but beyond that, the reasoning for the titles remains a mystery. If someone has further insight into Japanese linguistics or culture, and have additional guesses as to why, please let me know.
Cut Boss Fight
In the West Arena (labelled 'R' for 'Right' in early development), there was going to be another raised cage event. Only this time it would take the form of a boss fight with a massive shadow that overtakes the floor and splays black tendrils through the air. Interestingly, there is already an overhead bridge in this image, but rather than magically appearing in stone segments, it's instead an ordinarily constructed wooden bridge. Here, the notes detail a different kind of puzzle element: Wire. Which, unlike ropes, cannot be cut by the sword. The same note indicates that wire is holding the left and right doors in place. While the concept art doesn't detail it plainly, I believe the only way past this room would be to pull on the "Idol Handle" that the boss is covering. Wire is also presumably being used for the zip-line running across the arena, which is an interesting component to say the least. The vision I'm gathering is that you'd ride the zip-line, hit X at the right time to drop down onto the overhead bridge, run over to the balcony where the 'Cage Switch' is labelled, and activate it to impede the boss. How it is then defeated is less clear. It's also unclear where Yorda would have been throughout this encounter, or if there would be additional enemies trying to drag her into a nest. Its possible the boss itself would be programmed to capture her with a tendril, and itself act as a nest by dragging her into the depths of itself. But we have no evidence one way or the other. [Ok, that's all the stuff I have to present for now. Keep in mind that there's more to see and translate in the article I linked at the very start. This post was only scratching the surface, despite the amount of material we covered. With that in mind, thank you for making it this far.]
Support
Now is as good a time as any to mention I've started up a Ko-Fi, so people can choose to support the work I do to uncover and present obscure info like this. There is, of course, no obligation to give me anything. The tips just help me get a bit of financial security in return for my efforts.
#ico#yorda#team ico#concept art#long post#translation#fumito ueda#cut content#obscure gaming trivia#new gaming discovery#japanese to english#the castle in the mist#ps2#ko fi link
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The Marvels Deleted Scenes
The Marvels is a short film clocking in at 1 hour and 45 minutes. Such a brisk running time might lead one to believe that a lot of material was left on the cutting room floor. As with all films there's always stuff that's removed or changed during the editing process. However even with an overwhelming amount of marketing footage shown before the film's release and two early test screening leak descriptions, it appears The Marvels actually had its story and structure locked in pretty early on.
The trailers are often a good source for some bits of footage that didn't make the final cut but with The Marvels, there was very little that was shown in all the various previews that didn't make it into the final film. Once the Blu-ray/Disney+ material comes out we'll probably see more deleted scene evidence uncovered. For now here's what I've gathered together so far: (SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE FILM)
The film's plot was leaked last year from an early rough cut test screening. Much of it proved to be very accurate. This summary was the first to report that Valkyrie would have a cameo in the film. This was true as Valkyrie appears aboard Carol's ship via the Bifrost to take the Skrull refugees to Earth after Dar-Benn attacks their sanctuary planet. According to the leaked summary there was originally another scene in which Valkyrie appeared. (I'm guessing here, but I'd assume this other scene most likely would have happened before the escorting of the Skrulls scene.) The leaked summary describes this scene as follows; at one point Kamala is alone on Carol's ship when Valkyrie calls. Valkyrie asks whom she's speaking to and where Carol is. Kamala responds, "I'm Ms. Marvel" and Valkyrie asks "She (Carol) got married again and didn't invite me AGAIN?" Kamala quickly clarifies the MISS part or her title. Valkyrie's line obviously foreshadowing the fact that would be revealed later in the film that Carol is married to Aladna's Prince Yan.
This early summary also described Dar-Benn as using her bangle to "power a weapon" which would steal the resources of the various planets. In the final film, there is no secondary weapon. Dar-Benn simply uses the bangle to both open up portals and extract the planet's resource. Due to the rough-cut state of the film shown in the test screening this could have been either a misinterpretation by the viewer or there actually was a separate weapon in that particular rough cut and they just decided to streamline things by having the bangle perform both tasks. Who knows. Based on this info I myself incorrectly predicted and assumed early on that the huge diamond-shaped ship might have been this "weapon" in the film. But it ended up being just Dar-Benn's Kree flagship of sorts.
Another test screening took place around June 2023 with a leaker corroborating on Reddit what was described in the first plot summary and adding a couple other details which had not been revealed up to that point. One being that the post credit scene would feature another variant of Monica's mother, Maria Rambeau and that Kate Bishop would make a cameo appearance. Both these details turned out to be true too but with one minor difference. This report described the film opening with Kamala recounting the film's events to a mystery person not revealed until the end. This person would turn out to be Kate Bishop. So while the scene with Kamala recruiting Kate still ended up at the end of the film, it appears that Marvel toyed with the idea of having the film's events being narrated retroactively, similar to how Iron Man 3 was Tony recounting his story to Bruce Banner.
As I stated earlier there wasn't much from the trailers that wasn't included in the film but there were a couple. One bit involved Monica during the initial round of location swapping. When Monica switches places while investigating the jump-point in orbit near Earth, she ends up on the barren planetoid where Carol was previously. In the film we see Monica crash onto the planetoid but don't see her get switched back to her original location. The teaser trailer shows a few seconds of Monica getting attacked by the same Kree soldiers Carol had just encountered on the barren planetoid. Monica attempts to use her powers to defend herself but switches again with Carol. You can see the insignia of Carol's suit begin to rematerialize before the trailer cuts away.
Another deleted scene that was described in the leaked plot summary involved Carol and Monica traveling to Hala where the Kree are celebrating the return of rain and water to their drought stricken planet. Carol has a crisis of conscience realizing that the "Annihilator" title the Kree labeled her with was accurate from their point of view. There's a brief shot from this scene shown in the theatrical trailer, with Monica and Carol standing in front of a rain soaked window with the Hala cityscape outside it. A line of dialogue from Monica plays over it, "You are not the only thing standing between this and the universe."
In recent interviews following the film's release, Iman Vellani has revealed details on some scenes that were either changed, shortened or cut altogether. From Yahoo:
Monica Rambeau was originally going to be christened with her codename, Photon during the climax of the film right before she repaired the tear in space-time. Vellani commented, "It was a cool moment, but I think they took it out for a good reason." The original scene had the Marvel trio using their powers together to repair the tear. "It wouldn't make sense tonally if Monica is about to sacrifice herself and we're like, 'But your code name!'"
The song/dance sequence on Aldna was originally longer. "The song itself was much longer, and so much fun. There was a beat where Carol starts singing before she dances with the prince - that was pretty funny. And there's a moment where Kamala starts singing, too." - This one isn't too surprising. The leaked summary even made a comment that the sequence went on for way too long in the test screening cut. This was a scene I thought would potentially be pretty cringey but didn't actually end up bugging me. Although a longer version of it most likely would have wore out its welcome pretty quickly.
Some other little beats that got scrapped from the theatrical cut included an early scene where Kamala switches places with Carol and ends up on her starship, not immediately realizing she's in the same domicile where her hero resides.
There was also a longer version of the final encounter with Kate Bishop. "Hailee and I had a really fun back and forth," "Tonally, it wouldn't have made sense if we kept joking about [the Young Avengers team], but we were having so much fun bouncing off each other."
Lastly, a few more cut tidbits via @CanWeGetSomeToast on X/Twitter:
Kamala wasn’t able to take off her bangle and was imprisoned/tortured by Dar-Benn.
Captain Marvel and Valkyrie were explicitly together in the past (cut quote: “we work better as friends”) but Disney are cowards.
Prince Yan was supposed to gift each of The Marvels with a new suit, right before gathering his army. Monica had her comic accurate wings at first, but it was too much for her so she tore them off.
Kamala’s new suit originally turned into a space-suit, which would’ve been used to join Carol and Monica to close the rip in space-time TOGETHER.
#the marvels#captain marvel#ms marvel#monica rambeau#photon#brie larson#iman vellani#teyonah parris#dar benn#zawe ashton#kate bishop#deleted scenes#hailee steinfeld#goose the flerken#goose the cat#marvel cinematic universe
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A Lesson In Domestication, but also ⭐️⭐️⭐️ for the director’s commentary
Ahhh!! Thank you ��� Domestication is my current obsession from that series!!
OK. Domesticaion director's commentary! So, I suppose this counts as like a deleted scene?? After 'Experimentation' when Helen goads him into tasting her blood, she spends a considerable amount of time trying to soothe him into the idea of feeding on her. Somehow she just knows that he won't lose control, but Nikola doesn't trust himself so, although he's desperate to properly taste her, he spends a long time shying away from it which Helen struggles with, but also she knows she can't force him. He gives in about three years later in 'A Lesson in Dynamics' in the chapter titled 'An excercise in anticipation...' only after offering the strictest of rules. Which is also an excuse for me to explore the James/Nikola dynamic that is starting to develop into a proper obessions for me.
I suppose that isn't really directors commentary as it is headcanon for the series 😅
How about this? The final chapter of that story took me maybe two weeks to write because I rewrote it three times. The first version had them getting it on outside Helen's rooms and being interrupted by John and James and Nikola turning very nasty because he doesn't take well to being interrupted. Helen got a little cruel in return and forced him to once more return his attentions to her. Except it got a little too harsh so I scrapped it! Option two went too far the other way and it was way too soft and schmultzy with him just about confessing his love for her so it too ended up on the cutting room floor.
For the random rambling number one (I'm assuming three stars means you want three?) I'm going to go with something that is still in the works, but I know you'll enjoy - bratty John.
I think this is the first time I've ever written Magnitt that isn't the classic 'he's a crappy husband' in Out of the Blue which felt weird, but I also love the dynamic of it and the way that he likes the edge of pain with his pleasure, particularly when Helen holds him captive. I'm really excited to explore it more when we get to the Jack part of the story as well, because I feel like his desire for that touch of violence in bed is going to dry right up which will change their dynamic completely. It's why this chapter (called 'An exercise in captivity') focuses so much on how much he likes her brand of torture because when he finally has this moment of real and awful violence it completely changes the way he sees the idea of sex and pain.
Number two: let's go with train fic and The Final Chapter.
I'm so so so excited to see what you think of it because I totally adore it. It made me so happy and it felt so lovely and I just GAH!! I really, really want to post it already because it is just so 🥰🥰🥰. For the final few chapters I've been making some deliberate choices to mirror things that happened at the start of the story and I think this chapter sums it all up rather nicely.
And number three: the Director's Cut of 'Mr & Mrs'.
So, I decided a little while ago that I'm not going to do all 365 days of their trip (the final chapter is Day 200). BUT I have so many other cute ideas for it (including the return of Emmie and co) that I want to play with (without the self imposed pressure of posting regularly) that I decided the story is going to have it's own companion series called The Director's Cut: The Adventures of Mr & Mrs Tesla. Plus it'll allow me to write past the 365 days so we can see their relationship keep developing. Plus it means I can label the cute fluffy moments as being not explicit and keep the explicit stuff, you know, properly explicity 😅
OK. I could go on, but I'm going to not because I really should go finish off the final train fic chapter so I can start editing and speed up my posting of it a little!!
#thank you :)#asks#fanfic#writing#i rambled#but as we know i have limited self control#so if you didn't expect this its not on me
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Word Find Tag Game
I was tagged by @verkja for this game! Thank you for the tag!
I was tagged to find the words night, slope, rough, and mumble. I really wanted to pull them from one of my wips instead of already posted stories but I wound up having to pull from four different wips in order to do that. It turns out I don't use the words slope and mumble a lot so far! So this will be interesting. I'll put the title/descriptor of each wip with the passage for my own reference but also in case anyone is curious.
Night
(From: Enchanter and Thesiac scenes, Anristar)
"Hmmmmm." A sly smile spread across Kyle's face. "Tell them..... There was bugs. No, wait, that'd leave traces. Tell them.... There was noises, ghosts haunting the place."
"Ghosts?"
"Yeah. Messin' with your fridge. Spewing water everywhere, making the air conditioning make ominous noises."
"Ooooh. That'd sure send me running for the hills." Justin smirked.
"Yeah. Not just any ghosts," Kyle continued, "but like... prophetic ones. They started whispering to you in the middle of the night, weird poems without meanings and stuff. Cutting in on your beauty rest."
"Oh dear. Gotta have my beauty rest."
"Yeah, or else you get headaches!"
"Headaches. Real bad ones."
"REAL bad!" Kyle threw his hands up into the air. "Migraines!"
"Mmmmm. The prophetic ghosts in my apartment are giving me migraines. You know what?"
"What?" Kyle asked as he set another box down on a chair.
"I'd bet you ten bucks they'd ask me how much coffee I've had recently." Justin chuckled.
Slope
(From: Oubliette Intro Scene)
His path had taken him into the treacherous rocky hills. He found himself scrambling over boulders and clawing his way up patches of loose gravel with far less grace than he’d hoped. Any stealth he’d had was lost the first time he narrowly avoided falling back down the side of a slope and sent a stream of rocks down behind him instead. His boots had good grip, but they could only help so much when he wasn’t accustomed to traveling in unstable terrain.
Rough
(From: Unnamed Anristar Story)
Suddenly Enchanter planted his feet on the hard floor, causing him to jerk a little as the guards holding him attempted to keep moving forward. They attempted to pull him along, chastise him for stopping, but he whipped around and jammed his shoulder into one's face and kicked the other on the back of his knee. He turned to retreat back towards the troop a few steps while his escorts were recomposing themselves. It didn't take long for them to grab him, roughly yanking him back by his shirt and pulling him to his knees, but he ignored them, looking straight back at Terrus and the group gathered there.
"You can't take away his voice! It's the only thing left!" The guards tried to quiet him, to get him to cooperate again, but he bit at their hands to keep them away. "If you take it away he'll die!"
Mumble
(From: Sem Breakdown)
“….diot.”
“Hm?” He inquired as he heard Sem try to mumble something. He took a step back in the room, reveling in the scene before him. Was Sem going to burst out in tears? Collapse to the ground again? He could only wonder.
Sem was quiet for a few moments, but then finally started again. “…Someone once told me, warned me, that I would get tired of this."
(How this works is, you go through a WIP, published story, or whatever else and find one instance of each word, then post it with a paragraph or two for context.)
Again, thank you for tagging me! It was fun and forced me to revisit some old wips. I'm not sure who to tag, so I'll tag @haro-whumps and anyone else who wants to do this, consider this your invitation! I tag you to find the words snow, grabbed, sky, and rest. No pressure to complete it if you don't want to!
#original writing#semsenir#anristar#tag games#violence#again ty for the tag I don't usually do these but uhhh I don't know people very well yet#and that's the main reason. so. this was a good opportunity#hopefully I will have some anristar content on here someday lmaooo
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So I think I am gonna torture myself by creating an AMV for this song. I have been up for the past five and a half hours (as of 9 am) working on a rough conceptual outline for this.
I'm also gonna post this in its WIP state, because I'm eepy and I also want y'all's input. I'm a little unsure on where to go from what I have so far and how to structure my very loose ideas for the rest.
Page break because this is really fucking long.
So the song is divided into ten main parts: the intro¹, a dialogue line², verse 1 (4 lines)³, chorus 1 (4 repeated lines, 4 different alternating repeated lines)⁴, verse 2 (5 lines)⁵, chorus 2 (4 lines, 8 lines)⁶, a bridge (3 distinct segments)⁷, verse 3 (4 lines)⁸, chorus 3 (4 lines, 8 lines)⁹, and the outro¹⁰.
I'm gonna write out my notes here, but, warning, they will be very simple, very brief, and highly specific to the lore of one of my character projects. I have a few bonus details at the bottom that might provide some context, but I don't know how understandable any of them are. I still wanna share this though, so y'all get to see it. I'll draw up a rough storyboard soon.
1: INTRO
Title card stuff (song credits, programs used, maybe my socials, etc). Exterior (only during beginning of credits) and interior shots of the base, probably with shots of the main gang playing a board game. Gravel gets up to find an Uno deck. If I go this route, I must show it holding the deck of cards while walking out into the hallway. Cut here.
2: DIALOGUE LINE
" Liberty this is Freedom. Do you read me?"
Fed speaking into a radio (lipsync).
Note: I can't make out what's said here. None of the lyric transcriptions I found had it. I am. A little upset.
Note #2: A FRIEND FIGURED IT OUT !!!
2.5
Feds surrounding the base (a little far off, behind and a little above. Mostly shapes in the shadows).
3: VERSE 1
"Circling overhead as the shadow hits the ground."
Upwards shot of the building and some surveillance drones hovering above.
"Renegade insurgents surround the compound."
Feds closing in (shot right up at one's face. Pointing right). Cut and slight slow zoom to door.
"Murderous intentions, a mission of ill reprieve."
Fed steps through the doorway. Cut to staircase. Cut back to a close up of his face (expression hardens).
"Complex situation, undone by evil deeds."
Cut to fed stepping onto the bottom few steps. Looks up and sees Gravel.
3.5
Fed quickly raises his gun. Others behind him also ready themselves.
4: CHORUS 1
"Don't take him alive."
Lipsync of lyrics (by main fed to his lackeys) (3/4 side, facing right).
"Don't take him alive."
Gravel tenses up (3/4 front from slightly below, facing left).
"Don't take him alive."
Gun raised. Fed begins advancing (face/gun close-up, directly to the side, facing right). Cuts to Gravel slowly backing up (bottom of shot is just below torso, directly to the side, facing left).
"Don't take him alive."
Gravel hits the wall (pan as if cameraman was standing still from their point previously. Now shot is a more frontal view of Gravel. Tip of the fed's gun comes into view on the left side). Gravel looks down/to its left side anxiously, sees button. It sneers.
Cut to close up of Gravel's hand (left side). It forms a fist and slams the button hard.
"Paralyzed."
Gravel transforms into its VP form and spreads its wings.
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
Cut to the rest of the gang in a room. Vincenc is to the side tinkering with some small machinery; Seo-Joon is in a chair researching; Asilia, Xiomara, and Zashil are on the floor playing a board game. All shoot up as they feel their VP powers kick on.
"Paralyzed."
Xiomara and Asilia usher Zashil to a small room in the back. Meanwhile, Seo-Joon heads for a computer screen to the side to check the cameras. Xiomara and Asilia crowd around to look. Cuts to camera view. Gravel is beating the shit out of the feds, but is losing. It runs.
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
Vincenc enters a dim storage room (shot from just outside the doorway, Vincenc facing right). He picks up some protective gear from the right side and a bomb from just next to the view (shot is stationary, from a shelf facing just right of the doorway and up enough to see Vincenc's face).
4.5
Sneaking, scheming, etc. View of Asilia and Xiomara staring at the cameras with concern. Cut to Seo-Joon with a determined expression.
Asilia and Xiomara travel together, peeking around corners. Cut to shot from next to the abandoned Uno deck (pointing up and at the two). Cut to Vincenc placing and rigging bombs of various kinds around the base (far off shot, maybe a pan through a wall from previous shot. Slows briefly to show Vincenc and then continues. Blacks out at next wall).
Pan up onto Zashil (facing left) sitting behind some furniture. He's anxious and knows he should stay put, but really wants to help. He stands. Cut to him exiting the doorway. Pan to another hallway (right at a corner). Gravel turns the corner, shaken, somewhat frantic, speedwalking through (frontal shot, zoom slightly into face).
5: VERSE 2 ¹
"A killing ground for tyrants. Get down on your knees."
Cut to same shot but of the main fed, storming through the halls. He's bruised, disheveled, and pissed.
"A gun in your mouth will fill all your needs."
"Brainwashed solutions, torture and disease."
"Final retribution for everyone to see."
6: CHORUS 2 ²
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
7: BRIDGE ³
8: VERSE 3 ⁴
"Captivate, captivate."
"Captivate, captivate."
"Obliterate, obliterate."
"Incinerate, incinerate."
9: CHORUS 3 ⁵
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Don't take him alive."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
"Paralyzed."
"Kill zone red, shoot the eye."
10: OUTRO ⁶
Extra scattered notes for potential scenes:
¹ thinking somewhere around here, Zashil runs out in front of the feds, and they try to shoot him. Asilia sees this, runs over, flashbangs the feds, grabs Zashil, and books it.
² the feds in all their chaos step on a bomb of some kind (smoke or explosive, not sure yet). Xiomara should absolutely create a massive fireball and just beat the shit out of them. Seo-Joon probably helps fan the flames.
³ action shit and transitional scenes. Feds probably beat the shit out of the gang, and they have to fall back to the portal room (the thing they're trying to defend). Shenanigans ensue.
⁴ thinking this should be like the climax of the fight. Everybody's pissed and desperate and fighting with everything they've got. Lots and lots of action here. Anyway, the VP gang turns the tides around the last verse, and they know it.
⁵ this one I think would be cool if it was like a similar scene to Chorus 1. Gravel says, "Don't take him alive," and they advance on the last dude, who should probably be the OG main fed. They threaten him, probably try to kill him, he runs and escapes into the night.
⁶ probably the gang just kinda looking out into the streets.
Bonus context:
This is a super dystopian, cyberpunk type thing. There's like this group of people who have certain powers, which are 'activated' via a specific sound frequency that kinda wakes up the part of their brain that deals with that power. This is easiest to do in the Virtual Plane (name is still in the works), which is sort of an alternate reality, but in an empty world that kindof automatically emits this frequency. The people who found this place built a bunch of stuff for folks to exist and chill. It takes a fuckton of energy to run though, so it's not open too often. The government doesn't really know anything, but they've heard rumors of people developing powers and have like seen some shit to suggest that's true, so they're looking into it. They do not like it, because it gives power to anarchists (who make up most of the folks in this superpowered in-group, since it's all a very well-kept secret). It's a whole thing. The concept in this AMV is that the feds tracked down one of the portals and are doing a raid to figure out what's going on, and also probably destroy anything that enables folks' superpowers.
As for the gang itself, I've posted drawings of them before. They're very strongly based on my friends, especially my internet found family. They are also in some ways based on different aspects of myself, especially at different times in my life. They're all still in progress, but I love them a lot. Anyway, their powers and such are as follows:
Gravel (18, it/its) has physical enhancements, and essentially has an alternate form. Vincenc (19, he/him) has electricity powers. Asilia (22, she/her) has light powers. Seo-Joon (26, he/him) has wind/air powers. Xiomara (20, she/they) has fire powers. And Zashil (13, he/him) levitates.
I am going to test something. Hold on.
#god this is such an endeavor#i wanted to fucking animate this#youch#i might just do a sloppy animatic tbh#but idk#we'l see how it goes#screenplay#oc amv#oc lore#concept idea#writing#film#virtual plane gang#front line assembly#music#my writing#btw if anyone can make out what that one line is i will love you forever#long post
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Fave Scenes That Probably Could’ve Been Sent to the Cutting Room Floor But I’m Glad They Weren’t -- DiamondDust Rebellion Edition
Outside of all the Detective Byakuya scenes and The Scene Where Hisagi is Cool for 12 Seconds Before Hitsugaya Writes Him Out of This Movie Entirely, I think this is my favorite scene in DiamondDust Rebellion. It’s just a little transition, but like, frame are frames, and these ones could easily have been used to explain the plot, or something. I think you get more bang for your buck with this scene, though.
Idk, I like the idea that someone can skip town in the dead of night, explicitly against the desires of his host, but still take the time to stop and give thanks to the house. At that point it feels less like habit or cultural norm and more like something that actually matters. (Er, cultural norms matter, but like, this makes it feels like it matters at an individual and personal level.) It actually matters to Hitsugaya, specifically.
** Even though he was also skipping town in the dead of night, explicitly against the desires of his host, after offering absolutely no useful information or explanation about anything whatsoever.
I want to say it’s adorable, but then I feel bad because Hitsugaya wasn’t trying to be adorable and at this point he’s been Straight Up Not Having a Good Time Bro since minute 3 of this 92-minute film, and I want to respect that. But anyway, although I don’t think of DDR as a piece of Bleach that has a lot to offer in terms of character- or worldbuilding, this scene I hold very dear. <3 All 9 seconds of it.
I also think about this scene a lot because in the scene that follows it, Hitsugaya (who is nothing like SS Arc Escape Master Hinamori, since he runs into Ichigo basically immediately) reiterates his thanks to Ichigo with 礼を言う, his first of a few he repeats this phrase over the course of this movie. I spent like, actual weeks fixated on this expression because I didn’t know what he’d said, to the extent that I could not for the life of me Google it effectively. It wasn’t until a different character in a different series said it that my brain was like ohhhhhh derp <i>Googles rei wo iu</i>.
It’s an expression of thanks/gratitude, literally to speak rei, which is some manifestation of gratitude. It’s masculine and implies a level of distance between the speaker and recipient. From the instances we’ve now heard it, it feels pretty old-school/serious/formal, though it’s not just old-timey because we’ve heard it used in the sense that you might say “I wanted to express my gratitude” in series set in the modern day as well. There’s also a video game that uses it in its dialogue, though idk what games are so idk the context here. And then of course I got really down the rabbit hole and ended up reading about orei and linguistic anthropology, which made morse sense to me than the video game, though realistically I surely know more about video games than linguistic anthropology (I spent sever real-world years completing Ocarina of Time! vs. uhhhh I once shared an office with someone who took a class in linguistic anthropology one time.) That article is talking about something specific that funnily enough isn’t Bleach, but it’s invested in the speech acts, or speech that in itself comprises an act--for instance, that of counterbalancing a debt.
All of that aside, just figuring out the basic phrase felt like such an exciting victory!! Because now it’s a phrase we can reliably hear and understand while watching other things, even when embedded in the middle of a longer sentence, etc. and that’s always such a good feeling?? (During our Bleach movie rewatch last month we discovered that Hitsugaya also uses this phrase in Fade to Black in a completely different context/in a seemingly completely different usage, so who says filler movies aren’t educational! You learn new things every day.) So anyway, yeah, I really love this scene. Lots of wild, if somewhat tangential, memories attached to it. 💖
Also would like to point out that if Ichigo really didn’t want Hitsugaya to leave, he should have simply hidden his shoes. XDDD Foolproof. (Imagine the awkwardness of having to unlace some deeply, deeply unconscious person’s sandals as they bleed out on your sheets. Weirder than shooting yourself out of a magical cannon in order to bust into the stronghold of a society of death gods? I mean, possibly??)
Also love (no, I truly do! “love” is used in a lot of ways on this website but I think it’s very endearing) that Hitsugaya also took the time to fold the blanket, even though he definitely bled all over it. Because like... did he WASH the blanket? PROBABLY NAH. DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF HAVING FOLDED IT. KFAKF:gKGcfgvbhn
#i also think of DDR as bleach's version of The Revenant because Hitsugaya was one#'bites into the middle of live still-writing fish while standing in freezing river' scene away from being Leonardo DiCaprio#as far as the title of this post and cutting room floor stuff#boy#the amount of time we've spent talking about rust patina in the reigai arc honestly surprises even me#so you know stayed tuned for that gem#(we don't have interesting rust patina thoughts. we just talk about it a LOT)#hitsugaya toushirou#diamonddust rebellion#bleach movies#bleach language#bleach anime#bleach
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An Embarrassing Secret
Word count: 2150
I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.
* * *
“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”
Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.
“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.
“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.
“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”
“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.
“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.
“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.
“You… did?”
“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.
Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??
“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”
“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”
You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…
“And what was that Loki?”
“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.
“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.
Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.
Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.
Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.
“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”
Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.
“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.
“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”
“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.
“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”
Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.
“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.
“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.
“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.
“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.
“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”
You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.
“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.
“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”
“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.
“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.
A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.
“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”
“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.
“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”
“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.
“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”
“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.
“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”
“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.
“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”
“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.
“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”
“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.
It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.
“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”
“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”
“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.
You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.
Part 2: A Difficult Question
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foxy i have a very serious questions … how can you possibly keep your laptop organized with the million & one stories you’re writing/have written/just randomly occurred to you!! I have so much less than you on my laptop but I’m still constantly losing documents so I can’t imagine how you do it 😭
Ok this is SUPER NERDY but here you go:
So many nested folders!! I have this on google drive and mirrored on my laptop and an external harddrive; I mostly work in google docs but every few weeks do a manual backup of everything onto my laptop and an external harddrive.
Ok let me see how to illustrate this in a way that won't be confusing. There are definitely other ways I could configure this (I'm even thinking things as I type this up haha) but this current set up is what lets me jump around most easily between the files I am actively writing, editing, and posting from, usually multiple different stories on any given day. I have to strike the balance between very organized and not having too many annoying click throughs.
World/Theme/Type of writing (that A Catch All Writing is my BTS writing) are the top level folders. Like this:
All the writing I don't post yet or abandoned or just never got far on is here, either as individual files or as its own folder if there's an obvious grouping (hybrid stories, for instance, or a single folder for multi-chapter stories). I probably should go through here and organize things better but since this is all abandoned stuff, I don't spend much time here. The important folder is that Posting folder ('A Catch All Writing' is my BTS folder):
The Posting folder is where all the stories I am actively writing and/or posting live. It looks like this right now:
The DONE folder has all my long stories that are completed UNLESS they are part of an ongoing series (Birdtan, Sasha, Lowlander) and then they live in their own nested folder under the series folder so I can share reference files and easily access if I need to look something up. My DONE folder:
compared to Birdtan folder with a done story in it:
You'll notice most of the short stories I've posted aren't there though. All the short stories I write live in that Short Stories folder higher up--they get moved to a subfolder within there once they are posted/done so they're only one click away. If they turn into a multi-chapter story or need additional notes/inspiration/whatever docs, I pull them out to the higher level so they can have their own folder (like Tell Me What Changed.)
There's defintiely some messines with what's in the Short Stories folder and what's in that further back high level "everything" folder --both have docs where I throw down notes or outlines or start ideas. I try to keep the Short Stories folder focused on things I am actively or in the near term writing but files do get moved between those a lot as my inspiration changes.
Short stories also have their own DONE folder so it's quick and easy to drag things into there, and because sometimes the posting doc (+ a pdf version for patreon) are just a portion of another file, like with amended shorts, sugar fairy shorts, etc.
Within any story I'm writing, I organize its folder pretty much the same way too:
An outline file
Reference docs, photos, spreadsheets --characters, timelines, dates, etc.
raw Writing files
and Editing/Posting files I copy and paste the content from the Writing file into the Posting file and that's where I edit and format. This way I still have stuff that gets cut during editing, so I can always go back if I change my mind later or feel like I messed something up during editing or I just want to reuse stuff from the cutting room floor for a different story.
I keep about 100 pages of writing per file. I've learned previously that the docs start to chug once they get over 1000 pages, and this also makes it a little big easier for me to jump around and find things if need be. I used to include a key reference in the title to make it easier to "find myself" in time in the story if I'm looking for a particular event. I haven't been doing this lately but I should, it's really useful. Example:
The Z in the title is just so it got moved to the bottom of the file folder, so visually everythign I'm actively working on is at the top and the things I'm "done" with are at the bottom. That's really only important to me in stories like the Sasha stuff where there are literally over a hundred docs.
Let's see what else... for brainstorming, I have a single excel sheet I dump ideas into unless I have enough to start putting together a few paragraphs or an outline, and then it gets promoted to its own word doc.
And then for archiving old stuff, I sort by year of the last time I worked on something. So say I decide I'm all done writing BTS stories, I'd just drag the whole folder into a 2022 folder into my Writing Archive folder, for the last year I worked on things in that space. That helps me find things later, if I'm like oooh what about that idea I was working on in high school...
This is what's in my google drive, but most of my archived stuff isn't there, it's on my laptop and my harddrive. They have files going back to the last century 😁
Unfortunately I've lost a lot of my oldest stuff, largely because technology and data systems have changed so much since I started writing by hand in journals. I'm stil in the process of typing up old things from journals, and unfortuantely not everythign survived my floppy discs (YEAH THAT WAS TECHNOLOGY BACK THEN).
So this is my system! :) Sorry I nerded out, it was actually really fun to take stock of it. I'm in these files literally every day, so organization is really important! Now I'm going to go do some reorganizing looool.
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i get a little bit stressed out (when i think about you) (jill roord x arsenal!reader)
how were you supposed to ask her out when just thinking about her made you nervous?
word count: 3342 ish
rated: F for flirtation sugar daddy
title- nervous by shawn mendes
——
your eyes followed her even when you didn’t mean for them to.
there was just something about the way she carried herself… you really just couldn’t get enough of it and-
“hello? y/n?”
you really really really had it bad. it really didn’t help that she was talking adamantly about something to viv, the other dutch forward having a relatively hard time keeping up with the taller girl.
its only when daan claps in your face that you turn and look at her.
“sorry what?”
daan face palms before saying:
“you know if you stare any harder you’re going to strain your eyes.”
you blush a little.
“i’m not staring….i’m-”
daan’s pointed look shuts you up.
you blush harder and look down at your cleats, adamantly avoiding the midfielder’s gaze.
her tone softens a little when she sees you.
“you really should just ask her out y/n. its been like two years.”
you scoff a little.
“it has not been two years what are you-“
daan cuts you off with a matter-of-fact tone:
“she joined the team in 2019 buddy.”
“yeah but that doesn’t mea-“
“and exactly how many words have you exchanged with her?”
you think before saying with an air of false confidence:
“like a lo-“
“not counting on the field.”
you sigh and hang your head in defeat before whispering:
“like two.”
the dutch midfielder hums and asks again:
“mhmm now what was that?”
you roll your eyes and say it a little louder, still with that air of defeat:
“like two words.”
daan patted your shoulder encouragingly before the whistle blew, indicating the end of break, and training picked up once again.
~~
jill was talking about you during the break, actually.
to viv across the field from you.
the dutch forward had slowly realized that you were different around her, that you didn’t speak as much, and actually that you avoided her at all costs.
this she found out because there were instances, such as during team dinners, where if there was an open seat next to her, you didn’t take it, opting to stand or sit on the floor as far away from her as possible.
or that whenever she sat down next to you you shot up out of your seat almost instantly.
or that when you saw her coming down the hall you immediately turned and walked the way you came from.
or- you get the point.
she couldn’t tell if you hated her, because frankly that’s what it looked like.
so that’s what she was speaking to viv about.
and to lisa about.
and really anyone who would really listen.
of course, everyone knew your predicament, as you weren’t exactly subtle in your staring and stuttering.
they all assured jill that you didn’t hate her, that maybe you were just shy, something jill had a hard time believing since she watched you hold confident eye contact and conversations with literally everyone else but her.
if you were someone else maybe she would care less.
but you weren’t.
see, this is only how you acted off the field.
but on the field, you were a completely different person.
you had a confident, almost authoritative tone when you spoke, one that made everyone stop and listen, and was something that ultimately landed you the role of captain for every team you’ve ever played for, with arsenal being no exception.
you spoke to her that way too, and it was really the only time you made eye contact with her and spoke to her.
granted it was more like you giving orders and directions, but same difference really.
it was also something jill found really really hot.
so safe to say she cared about what you thought of her.
jill eventually decided that if you weren’t going to talk to her first, she’d do it instead.
and so began her quest, getting y/n y/ln to talk to her and hopefully become her friend.
~~
you noticed the change in jill immediately.
it seemed as though the dutch forward was tailing you every chance she got.
every corner you took she seemed to appear right in front of you, every time you glanced at her it seemed as if her eyes were already on you.
it got so bad that you tried even harder to avoid her.
for instance,
one day before training you were out on the pitch shooting from midfield and muttering game analysis under your breath when you heard a familiar, heavy dutch accent making its way through the halls.
you panicked and-
daan found you ten minutes later inside a trashcan.
needless to say you had a pretty hard time trying to explain the smell and stains on your jersey to joe later that day.
in your defense because the field was so empty, that was the only plausible option in your mind.
as time went on, it really didn’t get any better.
there was another day during training where you turned to catch a glimpse of jill only to see her eyes already on you, and you turned back so abruptly that you knocked down the entire weight rack in front of you.
jill giggled, and the rest of your teammates were rolling their eyes and collectively face palming at your stupidity.
it all came to a climax when you were on the bus to your first match of the year, and jill plopped down in the seat right by you.
your eyes widened and cheeks flushed immediately, and you trained your eyes on the seat in front of you, not daring to turn and look at the girl beside you.
“hey how are you?”
you gulped and slowly looked up at her, and you cursed internally.
she was just so unfairly attractive.
the slightly shy smile and arched eyebrow was a combination you swear only she could pull off and-
“i’m doing okay, how are you?” you managed to force out.
at least you didn’t stutter.
jill gave you a lopsided smile that made your heart skip a beat, and went on talking.
she knew you weren’t much of a talker around her, and subsequently filled up all the gaps with her rambling, something that you both appreciated and hated, as it really didn’t help the queasy feeling in your stomach.
when the bus pulled to a halt you felt like you were going to puke, and shot up out of your seat wanting to run off before you freak out, only to remember that you were in the inside seat.
jill moved slightly without hesitation, something you were more than thankful for.
she whispers a little dejectedly when you get off:
“are you sure she doesn’t hate me?”
lisa gives her a sympathetic look and smile.
“she doesn’t jill.”
“but she just-“
“trust us, she doesn’t.”
jill nods a little apprehensively, and gets up and grabs her stuff, making her way off the bus along with everyone else.
~~
during the game, jill was so distracted that she almost ran in the wrong direction.
“jill! press! now go!”
you were yelling at her from midfield, glancing all over the place as you watched every player’s movement and stance.
jill almost stumbled upon hearing your voice.
you note that she’s acting weirdly, and bring it up during a quick break while the ref is assessing a potential foul.
you catch her arm when she walks by you, an action that catches her entirely by surprise.
“hey you alright? your head is all over the place.”
jill swallows a little bit before smiling weakly and replying:
“yeah yeah i’ll be okay.”
“alright well get your head in it, you’re really talented and we really need you right now.”
you give her arm a reassuring squeeze and move to take the free kick which had just been given.
jill still stood there a little dumbfounded, its only when you snap loudly and point in the direction of the box that she remembers there’s a game going on and moves into position.
all in all, arsenal wins with an emphatic victory of 5-1.
after your duties as captain were fulfilled and you gave your post game talk, you quickly fell back into your off field self.
~~
now why was the previous bus interaction the climax?
simply put, it had been the last straw for a lot of your teammates, who were now fed up with your idiotic gay panic, and decided to do something about it.
you should’ve known something was weird when you get a text from viv reading:
“URGENT- team meeting in 15 min at me & lisa’s apartment”
you furrowed your brows in confusion.
you were the team captain and the one who called team meetings, so what was up?
also it was saturday night, couldn’t it wait?
you texted kim, the vice captain, and pretty much the only responsible adult on the team, to double check.
she replied with:
“yes- joe told us about it.”
you furrow your eyebrows again because you took your job of captain seriously and you honestly didn’t remember joe mentioning an impromptu meeting on saturday night at viv’s house.
but you made your way there just in case anyways.
when you make your way inside you glance suspiciously around the apartment and only get more confused when you see less than half the team there.
the only people there besides viv and lisa were daan and beth, caitlin and lia, leah and jordan, and katie.
by this point you should’ve known.
you open your mouth to speak but you’re cut off when daan shoves you down into a chair.
“sit.”
you shoot back up and fight her back a little bit before asking:
“guys guys guys what is going on?”
leah calmly looked at you and said:
“sit down and we’ll tell you.”
and so you begrudgingly take a seat.
lisa starts.
“alright so collectively as a group, we decided that watching you deal with jill is making us all lose brain cells.”
the group in front of you nods adamantly in agreement.
“and so we’re here to help you. to teach you how to flirt.”
you cross your arms and snort a little.
“and how are you going to do that exactly?”
“well-“
beth piped in here.
“we’re going to employ katie and have her flirt with you and teach you for the next week or so.”
you shake your head.
“katie? no i would rather go on my own thank you very-“
katie cuts in here with an offended look.
“what do you mean no?! i’m obviously the best here and-“
the room quickly broke into a loud cacophony of sound, as they began debating about katie’s comment.
its only when lisa yells for silence that everyone quiets again.
“wait how many people are in on this?” you ask suddenly.
“the whole team with the exception of jill,” leah replies offhandedly.
your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when you heard this.
“is it really that bad?”
lia snorts.
“can birds fly?”
you let out a sigh.
“fine.”
you turn to katie and very adamantly say:
“but don’t you dare make it weird.”
katie holds her hands up in surrender.
~~
and so it began, your “training” as they called it.
katie, surprisingly was pretty good at what she did.
she did unfortunately call herself your flirtation sugar daddy, but that really made you uncomfortable so you avoided those terms at all costs.
so day after day, katie stuck by you and flirted with you 24/7, with occasional performance evaluations from lisa and caitlin, all who approved thus far.
on the downside, jill, who had been kept out of the loop from everything, saw this as you being interested in katie.
she wanted to tell you that katie had a girlfriend, but didn’t really know how to start that conversation without making it weird.
she couldn’t just go up to you and say, “hey i’ve been watching you flirt with katie for the last few days and just so you know she’s taken.”
so she just stood by and watched.
she did ask viv about it one day though.
“does y/n know katie has a girlfriend?”
to which viv replied:
“yup.”
“so why is she flirting with her?”
“its just for fun.”
“it doesn’t look like its for fun to me.”
viv turns and looks at her dutch teammate.
“are you jealous?”
jill almost sputters out her answer.
“wh-what no of course not! why would i be jealous?!”
viv turns to hide her smile.
“sure jill. whatever you say.”
two weeks went by, and katie was delighted by your performance.
next saturday, the ten of you met up at viv and lisa’s apartment again.
“alright so you might be asking why we’ve gathered you here today!” lisa proclaimed with a very poor attempt at victorian english.
“we’re gathered here today to-“
“oh just get on with it,” viv butts in.
lisa turns to her with a glare.
“all right all right,” viv relents.
“we’re going to assess y/n’s flirtation capabilities.”
you quirk an eyebrow.
“how are you going to do that exactly?”
“ooh we didn’t actually think that far. we’re going to ask you questions?”
“what like ask me to finish the line? like ooh girl are you from tennesse cuz you’re the only ten i see?”
lia cringes a little at that line.
“what ever you do, don’t say that.”
“mhm yeah wasn’t going t-.”
leah cuts in.
“alright the point is. just be yourself y/n. you exude confidence on the field so just bring it out when you talk to her. that’s all”
the others all nod in agreement.
“that’s it really. you can do it y/n, we all believe in you.”
“thanks guys i really appreciate it.”
“wait but i can still be your flirtation sugar da-ow! you didn’t have to all hit me!”
~~
the next day at training you were shoved and funneled in jill’s direction by almost half the team.
a particularly hard shove from daan had you slamming directly into jill.
the dutch forward turned and grabbed your waist in lightning fast speed to steady you.
your arms immediately fell to rest on hers, and you took a shallow breath in when you saw her concerned look.
“are you alright?”
“yeah i am thanks to you…”
well here goes nothing.
“…though i have to say if this is what it takes to get you to hold me i’ll gladly fall for you again.”
jill’s face was worth the burning on your cheeks.
“w-what?”
you had to admit, jill’s stutter only made her cuter.
you just gave her a wink and reluctantly pulled her arms off you.
“come on jill, we have a training session to get to.”
you gave her a final wave before you made your way out of the locker room.
jill still stood there, shocked and a little confused.
viv rolled her eyes.
“come on jill.”
and when jill didn’t move, viv just grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.
later during training almost the exact same thing happens.
except this time it was more jill’s fault than yours.
she wasn’t watching where she was going and ran right into you.
your hands found their way immediately on her waist.
“is this how we’re going to meet and talk from now on?”
jill blushed and mumbled a “sorry.”
you grinned.
“don’t be, i’m kind of enjoying it, though…”
you stopped to fake pondering something.
“…i don’t know what we should do now that we’ve both fallen for each other.”
you finished your sentence with another wink, essentially rendering jill speechless.
and so, this became a trend.
you would flirt with jill, and the dutch girl would essentially just freeze up and stare at you in shock.
you thought it was cute.
jill thought it was mortifying.
she complained to viv later on.
“i can’t even flirt back what is happening to me?”
viv just gave her a reassuring pat on the back.
“that’s what we call gay panic my friend.”
jill groaned and buried her face further into her hands.
~~
“what’s a pretty lady like you doing all by yourself?”
you ask, plopping down in the empty bus seat beside her.
jill blushes and looks down at the seat in front of her.
she could barely see your playful grin out of the corner of her eye and it was enough to kick the butterflies in her stomach to a higher gear.
you had a little deja vu during the bus ride, except that in the previous predicament the roles were switched.
jill somehow managed to hold it together for the remainder of the bus ride.
it was on the pitch when jill really couldn’t take it anymore.
you didn’t even do anything, except fulfill your captain duties.
you were standing on the sideline, watching a scrimmage between lia’s team and kim’s team.
joe had asked you to sit out and assess every player’s strengths and basically coach them.
and coach them you did.
“caitlin! daan’s open on your left! and malin! cover daan better so she’s not wide open!”
you looked down to scribble notes in your note pad, and when you looked up you saw jill staring at you on the field.
“jill! focus!”
her gaze snapped back onto the game.
before the second round, you gave a bunch of pointers to both teams.
“okay so you guys are doing pretty well, just make sure to keep up your back line, don’t make it sloppy.”
and to the other:
“alright so pass accuracy is something you need to work on, because half of your passes are being intercepted at the moment which probably isn’t something you want.”
after a few minutes the teams took their places back onto the pitch and you began scribbling down a few more notes.
a pair of cleats makes their way before you, and you look up.
“what’s wr-“
jill leans down and kisses you.
you drop your notepad in surprise.
she pulls back quickly and searches your face for any sign of disgust or repulsion, and finding none, she leans in again.
this time, you met her halfway.
it was electric and a little needy, really everything you wanted a first kiss to be.
you briefly heard the cheers and clapping of your teammates, too caught up in the moment to care about anything else.
jill’s hands fell to your waist and yours rested on her cheeks.
you pulled back after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a couple of seconds.
“so i guess i don’t have to fall for you to hold me like that again,” you whisper.
jill giggles.
“definitely not.”
you’re silent for a few seconds, but jill beats you and breaks it first.
“you know, i thought you liked katie.”
your eyes widen in surprise, and your face quickly contorts into disgust.
“oh god no way.”
“oh that’s good.”
you ask her a little teasingly:
“why, were you jealous?”
jill scoffs a little.
“shut up.”
you arch your brow a little in challenge.
“make me then.”
jill’s eyes flash back onto your face dangerously but before she can do anything you give her a little shove back.
“now go back to your scrimmage, we’ve had them wait long enough.”
she rolls her eyes and turns back towards the pitch, and towards a hoard of your giddy teammates.
“flirtation sugar daddy for the wi-ow!”
your perfectly struck ball hits katie square in the chest and your glare cuts eliminates any objections.
still you hear her mutter:
“still if anyone needs any help with flirting i’ll be free to-“
“katie!”
“sorry sorry i’ll stop.”
#jill roord#jill roord x reader#jill roord imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal wfc imagine#nedwnt x reader#nedwnt imagine#uswnt imagine#uswnt x reader#woso imagines#woso imagine
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Takeaways from Therapy Game Restart 14 + Illustration Book Release Date
Hello again everyone! ❤️💛💜
It's finally here... chapter 14! In all its glory! 😍🥰✨
Before we get to our takeaways, just some news I missed in the last post!
🎉 SENSEI'S ILLUSTRATION BOOK WILL BE RELEASED AROUND THURSDAY, 23RD SEPTEMBER! 🎉
Image taken from this Twitter post from Dear+!
It is titled "日ノ原巡イラスト集 DARLING" and boasts a collection of illustrations from Sensei's works so far: Secret XXX, Therapy Game, and Kamisama no Uroko.
The current price is ¥2970 with tax (¥2700 without tax). If you'd like to preorder it on your proxy shopping service, I've found it on the Comi Comi Studios website here! The bonus for purchasing it on this website is a B5 clear file~ I haven't seen it on Animate just yet, so fingers crossed it'll appear on their website soon with another (different) bonus! ❤️💛
Alright, with this amazing news done, let's move onto our takeaways, the long awaited takeaways! Thank you for being so patient with me! 💜
My short life update: currently in week 8 of lockdown and I haven't left my house in a long time other than for exercise or groceries. But I do have my vaccination appointment booked so YAY! 🎉
Here are our takeaways for this chapter:
Oh man, we pick right up from the last page of chapter 13. MINATO, BB, YOU LOOK SO PAINED! 😭
Sensei is the BIGGEST tease... that's all we got of that Minato and Shizuma scene...👀😭
The female staff at the veterinary hospital have really mellowed out! They're not bad, after all. ☺️
Oh dear, Nakajou-sensei, please get better ASAP!
Whoa... did Onodera just...?? I'm starting to think back to that Onodera discussion we had a couple of months ago... 🤔
Poor Shizuma, always roped into Onodera's workplace stuff! IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE GREAT PEOPLE SKILLS, SHIZUMA! PROUD OF YOU! 😍🙌
Man, Onodera has a really... blunt way of saying things to her human clients. Wow, brave. 😲
But I will say, Onodera really is good with animals. 🙌
Yet again, I think about that Onodera discussion we had... 🤔🤔
And that’s it for this chapter’s takeaways! For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter, please continue after the cut! There may or may not be a surprise scene (or two) there. Please keep reading if you want to see~ 😉✨
Our chapter begins where we left off in chapter 13--Minato pinning Shizuma down on the bed. Shizuma looks up at Minato and reflects on his actions that caused the pained look he is seeing.
Image taken from this Dear+ Twitter post!
On the next page (title page), the dialogue reads: Shizuma wants to understand what it is about his director (Onodera) that is making Minato uneasy. // However, that beautiful liar hides it well...
(I believe we are taken back to the morning before Shizuma and Minato meet up for their date.)
The title page features Onodera walking back to the clinic, bread in hand, with a cat cozying up on her leg. We are then brought to the clinic's lunchroom, with the female staff and Shizuma on break. The roster in the room shows that Onodera is extremely busy, Nakajou-sensei has afternoon house call appointments, Tatsumi is Nakajou-sensei's support for these appointments, and Shizuma has a half day and finishes in the afternoon in lieu of working on his scheduled day off.
Shizuma asks his coworkers what presents they like from their partners and takes note of their answers. One of the female nurses asks if it's Minato's birthday. Shizuma confesses that their relationship has been affected by the various things happening lately, so he wants to get Minato a gift before seeing him later that day.
The nurses quickly pick up that the gift is a "tribute" of sorts as this line of work means a lot of missed appointments and dates, and Shizuma confirms their suspicions. While the nurses realise male-male relationships and male-female relationships aren't that different in this aspect, everyone in the lunchroom is alerted to someone shouting Nakajou-sensei's name.
Shizuma and a nurse see Tatsumi with Nakajou-sensei, who has collapsed on the floor. While the staff are concerned about Nakajou's well-being, she brushes it off as a dizzy spell. Before they can help her up, Onodera sweeps her off her feet and carries Nakajou to her (Onodera's) office. While Nakajou asks Onodera to put her down out of sheer embarrassment, Shizuma and Tatsumi are in shock, with Tatsumi commenting on Onodera's manliness in that moment. One of the other nurses gently smacks Shizuma's shoulder and tells the two to grab a blanket and a drink for Nakajou.
In her office, Onodera asks Nakajou why she's been overworking herself to the point of collapsing. The nurse (who gave the gentle smack) very obviously hints to Onodera that it is her fault. As Nakajou calms the nurse by saying that's just how the director is, Tatsumi asks Nakajou about their afternoon appointments. She says she'll be fine to go after a little rest, but the nurse says she mustn't overexert herself.
After a few back and forths about who should go and the clients' needs/personality (picky about the vet, had a pet that doesn't like men, etc), Onodera says she will go. The nurses are shocked and reminisce about all the issues they've had when Onodera interacts with the owners. Tatsumi and Shizuma stand there, and can very clearly imagine those situations happening.
While Onodera rearranges and informs the nurses of the shift changes to accommodate Nakajou-sensei, Shizuma has a terrible premonition that unfortunately comes true: he is appointed as Onodera's support for the afternoon house calls.
Wearing a sulky expression, Shizuma packs the necessary equipment in Onodera's car and reminds her that he has a very important engagement that night that he cannot miss, and as such will leave immediately after the house call appointments are done. Onodera bursts his bubble, and tells him to give up on those plans while he can since this is the line of work he's chosen.
As Shizuma reads the client files, he questions Onodera on why he is her support when he's never attended to these clients before. While Onodera tells him that good coordination is important with a physician's support and that he's the only one she can rely on to give her an honest opinion and calm the clients, Shizuma realises that he's basically the mediator between her and the owners. She confirms that this is his strong point, has great expectations for him, and proceeds to drive. Shizuma then reads the patient files at lightning speed, realising there's a threatening 'something' that Minato has sensed, but that's just how the director is. He then vows to make it to their meeting tonight, no matter what.
The first three house calls, as expected, involve Onodera insulting and angering the owners--Onodera tells the first client that his insistence on seeing Nakajou rather than a 'young' director is having a negative effect on his pet who needs immediate medical care; Onodera offends the second client, inferring from their conversation that her pet's appearance is more important than the need to shave their fur and get an ultrasound done; Onodera accuses the third client of being irresponsible in caring for his exotic animals and asks for more effort on his part. In all three scenarios, Shizuma awkwardly smiles while trying to ease the tension.
The scene skips to Onodera and Shizuma arriving at their fourth and final house call for the day. Just as Onodera explains to Shizuma that she must check a whole host of things at house calls (and indirectly be too blunt about it with the owners), Shizuma asks her to consider the owner's feelings and change when and how she says things. She glares ahead in silence, and Shizuma is just glad that she is now aware of it. He again reminds her to talk with the owner nicely and gently as he probably won't be able to help with the next client as their pet dislikes men. Onodera tells him to just sit in the corner and witness the client become furious while he doesn't help, making him feel slightly guilty for saying that. He is now adament on not helping her.
They reach the owner's home and we meet an elderly woman named Shiratori and her 9-year-old male cat, Tono. Shiratori apologises to Shizuma as her cat doesn't like men. Tono hisses at them as Onodera opens his cage, but is then coaxed into submission by Onodera who covers his vision with a towel and takes him into her lap to calm down. Shiratori and Shizuma are surprised at his sudden docile nature, with Shizuma witnessing how well she deals with animals.
As Shizuma looks on at Onodera while she completes a check on Tono, he sees she is crumbling at the friendliness and talkative nature of Shiratori, who sings nothing but praise for Onodera and how her family must be proud to have such an amazing daughter. Aiming to ease her troubles and remembering the earlier guilt-trip she gave him, he redirects Shiratori's attention to her broken fly screen and offers to fix that plus everything else that needs repair in her home.
Onodera watches as the two leave the room for a bit before apologising to Tono for ignoring him. Tono looks on at Onodera happily while she asks him how he can live with such a lively human and to tell her his secret to this. She brings him into her arms once more to check his limbs, and as Tono looks up smiling at Onodera, Onodera sees her reflection in Tono's eyes, and both seem to realise something.
BG Text: Stare...
Suddenly, Shizuma and Shiratori, who are busy fixing the window, hear a loud crash and rush into the room to find Tono atop the cabinet and Onodera on the floor, with her hair in disarray. In the next panel, Tono is shown to be hiding in the bookshelf, looking on irritatingly at the humans. Shiratori apologises to Onodera, who shakes it off and says it's nothing to worry about and no harm's been done.
Shiratori asks if Onodera will fix/tie her hair up again, but when Onodera says her hair tie was broken when Tono used her as a launchpad to get on the cabinet, Shiratori runs to get her a new one. As Shiratori gushes over the 3 piece dopey looking character hair tie set she received as a present from her grandchild (and lets Onodera pick one), a greatly displeased look is plastered on Onodera's face. Shizuma, in shock, notices her displeasure and hopes she just thanks Shiratori for it. And Onodera does, bringing a great big smile to Shiratori's face.
As Onodera and Shizuma leave, Shiratori says she's glad to have talked with Onodera and invites her to come over again. As she says this, we see Onodera looking back with a blank look in her eyes.
And that’s it for this chapter! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! 💜 While I was surprised at the lack of Minato in this chapter (Sensei legit is such a tease, LOL 🤣), I'm happy we can learn more about Onodera. Ngl, I'm starting to really question if Onodera is male or female now, given what transpired in this chapter. I guess we shall see in the next one!
I also changed the formatting a bit and removed the bullet points. Please let me know which format is better/easier to read! Ahah!
EDIT: Spelling and grammar checks are done! Didn't change a lot, but hope it reads better! 💜
📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢
And please also refrain from resharing these translations and images outside of this post! Thank you for understanding! ❤️💛
There won't be a chapter in next month's (September release) Dear+, so I shall see you in two months for the next chapter (Dear+ November Issue, to be released in October).
As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜❤️💛
#therapy game#therapy game restart#ikushima shizuma#shizuma ikushima#mito minato#minato mito#mito itsuki#itsuki mito#ikushima shouhei#onodera akira#akira onodera#shouhei ikushima#セラピーゲーム#セラピーゲームリスタート#生嶋静真#三兎湊#三兎樹#生嶋翔平#小野寺昌#case 14#chapter 14#wow what a chapter#really curious to read more on onodera#but legit minato#minato my sweet child#i promise you it isn't what you think#please explain it to him shizuma#god i seriously love these dorks#hinohara-sensei is the biggest tease#thank you hinohara sensei
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Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (2/?)
Part two: Caught
Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: After reader’s first introduction to Spencer she can’t wait for the next meeting and tries to look for him.
Part One, Part Three
Series Masterlist
A/N: Hey guys!!! This is my final fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! Plus this is part two to my new series 🥰 I’m like so excited for this guys I’ve got so much planned for this one!! Thanks again to @spencers-dria who came up with the way I started out this story 😘 and @andiebeaword who gave me the prompt that spiraled into a series!!! Let me know how y’all like this series so far 🥰 also I will be mass accepting the rest of the requests for my 30 fics in 30 days tomorrow so be warned for a bunch for posts lol and I’ll be making a Masterlist for this series as well- maybe with a cute moodboard?? Thanks for reading guys!!!
Warnings: 18+, Speculation on how dark Spencer can be, mentions of kidnapping, Dom Spencer, Public sex (of course), Fingering, Use of the nickname Doctor, Slight size kink, Muffling, Spencer gives Reader a nickname at the end (I won’t spoil it 😉)
Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.6k
Ever since the last meeting you had been itching to lay your eyes on Dr. Reid. Even though you could have waited until next month when there’s another book meeting happening, with a new theme, your impatience was not having it.
The library that housed the book club and apparently now any of your interactions with the mystery man had never been frequented as much by you- until now.
Everyday after work now you stopped by to try and find him. You did other stuff there for sure, making your way through a full fantasy series while you kept your eyes peeled for his fluffy hair. Sometimes you did walk through the shelves that were stacked high with every book you thought imaginable just to maybe get a peak at him, or maybe speak to him if you were lucky.
You felt like you were both dancing around each other, never touching or even getting close enough to speak. But, a little look of his curls, a spot of his mesmerizing eyes, or a glimpse of his cardigan assured you that he was there.
You were sure he had to have seen you just as you had seen him at some point. Maybe he only wanted to see you during your book club or maybe he was done with you after that one time in the empty room.
Seeing him without half of his face covered seemed to make the shroud of mystery surrounding him get pulled back further. That however didn’t change the fact that you barely knew the man that danced between the shelves. You had called him by his earned prefix more than his real name and even then it was only his last name with the earned prefix attached that had slipped between your lips.
It was not like you did not know his first name, you had heard his full name with his title attached when he had first introduced himself to you, albeit behind that mask of mystery. And, even with his physical mask removed even with one look it would be obvious to anyone that there was an invisible mask still covering most of him.
There was this strange pull towards him that you could not explain. You felt like Christine being entranced by the phantom, his twisted face or in this case his soul behind the mask not shocking me away. You still hoped I was not dealt with a man that was as demented as Christine’s phantom. You could take a damaged man, not a kidnapper along with whatever other things the phantom of the opera had done to Christine. With one look at his face he hooked you in, perhaps unintentionally. But, if it was intentional and his bad didn’t squash the good in the end you didn’t mind at all.
Your feelings teetered on a precarious edge, you’d willingly take the plunge off if he’d just give you a peak at what was underneath. It all hinged on whether or not he’d let you take a look. He’d given you a taste of his Dr. Jekyll plus a little of his Mr. Hyde, but it left you nowhere in determining who Spencer was underneath.
Spencer- that was the first time you had even thought of his first name by itself without a prefix attached. You wondered how good it would sound if you let it stop dancing on the edge of your lips and let it slip out.
The ghost of his name danced on your lips precariously at the edge just like you were, so close to being whispered out. Only the pages of old books would hear you, there was no harm in saying his name. It was only a name after all.
Even though it was just a name made up of two syllables it was stuck on your tongue like it was one of the hardest words to pronounce. Your lips did finally speak in the softest whisper when you finally managed to stomp out your hesitation, “Spencer-“
“You called?” A gasp left you, way too loud to be appropriate in the library, but then again you had already bucked many of this library’s rules. You whipped around to face the voice that you recognized instantly as you had been closing your eyes tight every night trying to remember his voice and picture what he had done to you.
Seeing him without the mask up close, not through quick glances when you caught his fugue from afar was somehow more intriguing to you than when he wore the mask two weeks ago. When you did not come up with a response for at least a minute, he cut through the somewhat awkward silence, “What book are you looking for?”
“I don’t know.” That was an honest answer from you, you had other motives for hiding between these shelves.
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline clearly spotting your skittish behavior. You thought you were a good liar too, you wondered how it was so easy for him to read you. It made you feel vulnerable considering you couldn’t get a read on anything about him, besides the basics. Maybe you were just a bad liar and he was a master at it. “So you were just browsing? In the nonfiction section- specifically in the ancient and medieval philosophy section?”
His questions flustered you even more. It was like he knew that you had spotted him once in this very spot speeding through a stack of books a mile high while sitting cross legged on the floor. You would admit you stood there in awe for a moment to admire the way his fingers slipped down the page to track what sentence that he was on at an inhuman pace. You had been too shy to approach him that day, even though it was a perfect opportunity to do so, mostly because you were intimidated by how fast he seemed to be reading. Though later you thought maybe he had just been skimming to find what interested him, you wish you were brave enough to ask. That was why you had been loitering in the last spot you had your last chance to speak with him. It was possible he had already spotted you from your staring. Your voice shook a little as denied, having no suitable white lie to say, “No…”
“Not interested in philosophy then, no Plato for you??” He knew you were here before, watching him, his tone made it obvious.You shook your head from side to side slowly with your breath held tightly in his chest. He looked away from you for a moment to glaze over the spines of the books ordered by the Dewey Decimal System, maybe looking for something that sparked his own interest. It was only a small moment that his gaze wasn’t fixated at you, but you still felt like whining at him to get his attention back onto you. Luckily, you did not have to make such a sound as his pupils fixated back onto yours before he spoke again, “I thought so, you seem more like a fiction lover.”
“You’d be correct.” You confirmed, still barely breathing.
Your breathing wavered when he moved a little closer, if you hadn’t been paying such close attention to every minute moment he made, you might have missed it. The warmth of him was closer than it had been since the last time he had touched you, the desire for him was urging you to pull him in to touch him. Last time he had initiated every touch. his hands were closest to you, with nimble fingers that could work you over the edge skillfully and you knew that from experience. His head cocked to the side with eyebrows in question pulling you away from your daydream about pulling him in with your touch. He cleared his throat, then questioned you, his voice dropping down a bit, “So, if you weren’t looking for a specific book and you weren’t just browsing for a new one- what are you doing here in this section?”
“N-nothing…” A stutter still escaped you despite your best efforts.
It seemed like he was circling you like a hawk over head, though you wanted to be caught up in his claws. A little yelp of surprise escaped you when he suddenly grabbed your wrist rather tightly and yanked you forward towards him. You stumbled slightly into his chest, but you were quickly stabilized by him pushing you back into the shelves.
You were getting whiplashed again from his transition from delicate to sharp when he carefully put both wrists into one hand, then pinning them above your head. Your jaw was dropped down in shock and you almost stammered out another reply when he hit the nail on the head as to what your intentions were, “Were you looking for me?” At first you gave no response, but he pulled one out of you by sharply commanding you, “Answer me!”
“Yes!”
His lips were on you in a familiar fashion, harsh, almost enough to where your lips might bruise a little. When he bit your lip rather hard, you thought that there was definitely a chance that the bruise would form or at least it would be swollen. You loved it though, letting him guide the kiss to make it as rough as he wanted. When he separated his lips from you, you went to open your mouth to protest, but was cut off by a harsh shush from him that would make the librarian proud.
Each of the shelves you were pressed into pinched painfully, not that you cared all that much. You were more focused on the man who was now unbuttoning the front of the jeans you wore. On the inside you were cursing yourself for not wearing a skirt so he could’ve had easier access, it’s not like he could have stripped you down out of them- even if you wanted him to.
You’d both have to settle with your pants being pulled down to the tops of your thighs, he did leave the panties pulled up though, for the moment at least.
His other hand still held your wrists firmly while he started to tease by rubbing slow circles to your clit through your panties. When you tried to buck your hips into his hand you were punished by putting one of his thighs between your own and pushing what felt like his full weight onto you. There was no way you could move underneath him, even if you tried squirming he had you pinned to the too firmly shelves like a piece of art hanging on the walls.
All you could do was try to beg for what you wanted, “Please, pull them down.”
“But, I like seeing you in them.” He looked down at you with his eyes that looked like black pools because of the mood lighting in the library. You whimpered again, but cut you off by saying. “If you want me to oblige you, maybe you should ask me nicely and use the name you know you’re supposed to use.”
You knew exactly what title he was referring to, it had been ingrained in your mind after the last time. Part of you wanted to use a similar comeback of last time and call him Mister instead, or maybe even dare speak his first name again. On the other hand, your legs were shaking from being just simply teased a little. You had been looking forward to having him touch you like this again, and if you did not comply there was a chance his punishment for you would be taking away all touch.
“Please- Doctor, please pull them down.” Your volume was undoubtedly much too loud for the normally dead silent library. You were confident that you would not be caught just like last time, this was a scarcely traveled area, plus the librarian was farthest away from here. There had been another motive for picking this area to try to spot the morally gray doctor.
Instead of pulling your panties down, he ripped them off of you. The tearing of the seam echoed off the shelves along with your gasp. Even if you had really liked the pair, it was too hot to really be angry for him ripping them apart. And- when he stuffed them in his pocket a sharp spike of arousal ripples through your core. You could even still see the wet spot you had created on them despite the rip before he had shoved them into his pocket.
When his hand returned to your core you mewled desperately. He returned his nimble fingers to rubbing circles into your clit, this time a little bit faster than before and with a bit more pressure. You had to bite down onto your lip when he started alternating the circles with pinching your clit, knowing that the sharp cries that wanted to escape would be too loud for the librarian to miss, despite being far away from her.
“Do you want my fingers inside you?” He asked gruffly- as if I’d refuse having his long fingers crooked inside me, dragging across my g spot.
You didn’t need him to prompt you to say “Yes, please Doctor!” You were becoming easy for him to bend to his will, just to get another taste of his touch on your body. Maybe next time, if there was one like you hoped, perhaps if you were not so desperate for him to bring you to your peak, you’d smart off to him again. After all, from what little that you had experienced as a punishment from him like last time, you knew you’d enjoy it.
The smirk on his face told you that he was pleased with your eager submission to him. He pushed your head to the side slightly with his own to suck a hickey at the underside of your ear then nibbling slightly up the shell of it, “Good girl.”
Your eyes rolled back farther than you thought possible when he spoke, plus the added sensation of him plunging his fingers into your dripping hole added to that as well. The thrusts of his fingers were slower than you expected, as if he did not care that time may be of the essence, that anybody could walk by soon. Curling them upwards on one swift motion helped him easily find that perfect spot inside you which made your body try to squirm underneath his grip again. As you squirmed you could feel his hard bulge pressing into you making your mouth water and you drip down your thighs even more. Despite wanting to grind into it more he reaffirmed his grip and started to plunge his fingers into you faster. Your eyes shut tight at the onslaught of pleasure.
“No- look at me while I’m doing this to you.” Wrenching your eyes open with effort you followed his command, locking his eyes with yours. His eyes entranced you, you could almost feel the dark hooks pulling you in impossibly closer. Those hooks were pushing you towards the edge of your orgasm as well.
“Can I cum pleassse-“ You gasped almost too late as you were having trouble staving off your release, you didn’t know if you could handle him holding it off at all, “Doctor?!”
“Come on, cum for me- only for me, you’ve been really good for me.” A man being possessive towards you would normally have your orgasm fall away quickly- but when he said it your orgasm snapped through you on command. Your hands fell limp at your sides as he released his steel grip on them to clasp his hand around your mouth to quiet the noise that you tried, and failed, to stifle.
He had you still almost fully pinned down as you rode the waves of your orgasm out. You gripped the shelves with your free hands tightly, trying to hold onto something. You’d touch him, but there was the unspoken rule to not touch him without permission hanging in the air.
He let you come up for air once you had finished by removing his hand from your mouth, along with the one from your pants. He also tried to move you off of his thigh so you could stand, but your shaky legs would not allow you to do so, still weak from the force of your orgasm.
He only pulled away from you when a small thud was heard that judging by the source of the sound, was somewhat close to where you both were. He helped you button your pants back up, it felt kind of weird to wear them without your panties. The reminder of him stuffing them into his pockets still outweighed the discomfort.
Your whole being was probably much more disheveled than he was, there was only a slight cock to the right with his tie, that he quickly fixed. He then leaned, capturing you in a kiss that was much softer than any others he had given you. It did not feel like a goodbye kiss, more like see you soon.
“Until next time, Shelley.” His words that were whispered like a ghost on your lips, it was the quietest thing he had said throughout today’s dalliance. He almost seemed afraid. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the nickname, knowing it came from the time that you first had encountered him. It made him seem even closer to you than you had thought, him giving you the nickname made you feel somewhat claimed by him. Hopefully this was not all in your head.
“Until next time- Spencer.” You hesitated a little before saying his given name. You already had a nickname for him, one that seemed less intimate than the one he gave to you. Calling him by his first name seemed like a way that you could express similar thoughts without spilling all your guts to him.
Once the butterflies had faded a little you realized that he had not let you reciprocate any pleasure. You wanted to chase him back down through the library, get down on your knees and take his cock into your mouth until you swallowed his cum. There must have been a reason though, why he did not let you reciprocate. You hoped he was just busy and that at the next meeting in two weeks time, he’d let you take him into your mouth.
You yearned to touch him rather than to have him touch you. The thought of running your hands through his hair slowly enough to appreciate every wave and curl sent butterflies a flight in your stomach. Would he ever let you get that close? Close enough to study every curve of him in earnest instead of being pinned against something in a way where you could only appreciate a part of him. However much you felt desire being stoked whenever he took control over you, pinned you like he did, the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of exploring him with your own hands was too much to ignore. You just wanted to explore every inch of him with no semblance of time, no rush to be somewhere else, just to examine every part good or bad.
You’d have to tiptoe close, dance around him like he did with you until he let you see truly what both sides of him were behind the mask.
You still hardly knew the man before you, the one that was retreating away from you, sadly. Today had felt like your first glimpse into something more, mostly his good side. Dr. Jekyll was the one that you had seen the most of, but you could deny your desire to see every part of him, that thought had not wavered. There was that dark part of him that remainder hidden under the mask, if he showed it to you would you know him? Or would it just deepen the mystery of which is his dominant side- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? And even though you were undoubtedly curious to see every facet of what made the morally gray doctor you could help but fear whether or not you’d like everything that you’d see.
Part One , Part Three| Series Masterlist
—-
Tag list (message me if you want to be added):
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All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes
Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01
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Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1
The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!
Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.
So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!
Know You Better Now
Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."
Part: 1/?
Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: Language, ANGST
Find more of my fics here.
Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @heelchampbucks @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo
May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing
Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.
“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”
She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.
“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.
Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”
Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.
“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.
Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.
“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.
“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”
She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”
“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”
The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.
It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”
“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”
Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.
“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”
She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.
Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”
“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.
But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.
But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.
Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.
“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”
She frowned. “Kenny—”
“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”
Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.
But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.
Least of all Trent.
Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”
Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.
“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”
He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.
“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”
His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”
Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”
Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.
It was the potential consequences that worried her.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”
That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.
“How are you? You look incredible!”
“Is your shoulder cleared?”
“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”
“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”
And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.
“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”
“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”
“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”
“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”
Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.
Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.
“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.
She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—
“Alex?!”
She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.
“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.
“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.
“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”
She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”
Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.
“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”
Alex breathed a laugh—
“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”
Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”
She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.
“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”
Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”
And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”
Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.
“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”
Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”
He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.
But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.
“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.
“Get a room!”
Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.
Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”
Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.
“We’re up, Ken.”
Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”
He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.
“How do I look?” he asked her.
She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”
He grinned, cocky.
They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.
Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”
Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”
“Or he was,” Nick interjected.
“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”
He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.
She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”
He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”
They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.
Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.
“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.
It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.
Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”
He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.
This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.
PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.
Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.
Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.
Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”
But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”
She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”
“Go get one of my belts in case.”
Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”
But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.
Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.
All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.
“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.
“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”
He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”
She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.
Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.
Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.
Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.
Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.
She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.
Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.
The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.
Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.
But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.
Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.
Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.
Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.
Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.
One.
Two—
But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.
One.
Two.
Three.
That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.
She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.
She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.
#aew fanfiction#kenny omega fanfiction#the elite fanfiction#orange cassidy fanfiction#trent beretta fanfiction#chuck taylor fanfiction#kris statlander fanfiction
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retrospection
title: retrospection
summary: Virgil finds Roman in the Mind Palace Theater after the events of Putting Others First: SvSr.
Word count: 1549
Warnings: spoilers (obviously), self-loathing is extremely heavy here, angst in droves, hurt/comfort, cursing.
A/N: I wasn’t planning to write anything in reaction to POF but then this idea caught me in a flying tackle and wrestled me to the ground until I wrote it. So here it is! Posted in the spirit of the “two cakes” theory. Unedited because I just don’t have the mental or emotional energy after writing this. Might be some of my angstiest stuff yet. I’m not sure. It’s up there, for sure. No taglist because it’s short and unedited but since @creativenostalgiastuff specifically asked me to, here ya go!
...
Virgil steps into the Mind Palace Theater as quietly as he can, listening to the echoes of Roman’s final sung note reverberate against the walls of the large room. When Patton had said he was worried because Roman hadn’t returned to his room after whatever conversation had occurred following the wedding reception, Virgil had told the Moral Side he’d try to find him. He’d had a feeling that perhaps Roman would go to one of his usual spots when he was upset.
The theater is empty, Virgil realizes as he catches the door before it can slam. Usually, when Roman performed, the Creative Side filled the rows of seats with adoring fans. Then again, as far as Virgil knew, Roman hadn’t done much in the way of performing since sentencing Thomas to attend the wedding.
Virgil stays in the back of the theater and watches Roman catch his breath. The Creative Side’s head is bowed, his hair falling unchecked into his eyes, the stage lights casting long shadows across the angular planes of his face. It makes it impossible for Virgil to see Roman’s expression from this far away.
Then Roman’s shoulders jerk with an aborted sob, and Virgil sighs.
Roman sinks, slowly, to the stage floor and Virgil slips his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and starts to walk down the aisle towards the stage. Roman doesn’t seem to notice, pulling a knee up to his chest and burying his face in his arms perched on top of it.
Virgil sniffs as he gets closer in an effort to make his presence known without demanding a response. Roman doesn’t even look up, but the way he freezes for half of a beat is enough to let the Anxious Side know that Roman is aware he’s not alone. It’s something, at least.
Roman is sitting on the edge of the stage thrust, and Virgil jumps up onto it to sit beside him. There’s a long moment when neither of them says anything. Virgil’s hands fidget in his lap as he listens to the way Roman’s sniffles and shaky exhales fill the space around them. He doesn’t look at Roman—not much, anyway—in a perhaps flimsy attempt to let Roman feel that he still had an element of privacy.
But the quiet stretches on, and Virgil starts to feel that perhaps Roman is waiting for him to speak first. So he does.
“No adoring fanbase today?”
Roman sighs. “Best not, after that performance.” He lifts his head, and Virgil counts it as a small and fleeting victory. “How much of it did you hear?”
Roman doesn’t look at him when he asks, but Virgil looks at him when answers. “Not much,” he replies honestly. “The last note.”
Roman’s voice is almost as dull as his eyes, staring blankly at the rows and rows of vacant audience seats the stretch out before them. “I was sharp on the last note. My voice kept—” His voice wavers, then breaks off. Virgil glances over and sees the bob to his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Then he huffs a humorless breath. “Well. That.”
Virgil opens his mouth to reply but Roman cuts him off. “I’ve sung that song probably a million times but I guess now I can just add it to the long list of things I can’t seem to do right.”
Virgil feels something—like dread but sharper—ripple down his spine. His gaze flashes to Roman. “That’s not fair.”
There’s a twitch to Roman’s jaw. “Isn’t it?”
Virgil swallows. “Roman—”
“I was cruel to you. For years, Virgil.” Roman glances at him then, but he averts his gaze a moment later as if too ashamed to meet his eyes. “And then you left, and I eventually realized how badly I’d messed up, and I started doing better. Or, I thought I was. And then Thomas got broken up with, and my efforts to salvage what was left of his heart only led to more pain and I hurt you and I hurt Patton and by extension, I hurt Thomas. I write some song lyrics a few months later and nobody likes them. What’s worse is they’re right to not like them—some of them were like something Remus would have come up with.”
Virgil’s chest clenches at the disgust that drips from Roman’s voice as he speaks. “Roman—”
“I was the reason that Thomas missed the reading of Joan’s play, remember? Because one cute boy gave us the time of day, and I made Thomas choose him first over them. And then I let myself get manipulated into parading around this very same stage in an effort to appease my own sense of guilt over it all. I continued to be mean to Logan, calling him names and calling him stupid which couldn’t be further from the truth.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I was just… angry, and jealous, and I lashed out at an easy target because I’m just incapable of not hurting you all.” Roman’s hands curl around his biceps and grip.
“Roman,” Virgil repeats firmly, but Roman shakes his head and wipes a hand across his mouth and presses on.
“And-and then the callback comes around, and I think finally, y’know? Finally a sign that I could do something right. Finally my ambition is a good thing that helps Thomas rather than hurts him. But even that was wrong, because Thomas—because I—wanted so damn badly to go to that callback, he decided he wasn’t a good person. So I tried to make him do the right thing, because I can make that sacrifice if it means that for once I didn’t screw up.”
Virgil sees a sheen to Roman’s eyes, and the Creative Side quickly brushes at his eyes. He still won’t look at Virgil.
“And then today—“ and Roman’s voice breaks. Virgil watches as Roman’s grip on his own arms tightens even more and the Anxious Side worries that he’s going to leave bruises. Roman stops and takes a breath, his eyes screwing shut. “Today I learn that I couldn’t even get that right. I side with Janus, and I’m the bad guy.”
Virgil startles. He told them his name? He quickly shakes his head, filing away the information to deal with at a later time.
Roman doesn’t even seem to have noticed. “I side with Patton, and I’m still the bad guy. I just… I don’t know what it takes to be the good guy, Virgil. I thought… I thought—”
“Hey,” Virgil says, as softly as he can, reaching a hand out and covering Roman’s on his arm. Hoping to ease the death grip he has. “Roman, you are a good guy. You’re Thomas’s hero, after all.”
There’s a strange, choked noise in the back of Roman’s throat and he wrenches away from Virgil’s grip, scrambling to his feet. He stalks several steps away, his back to the Anxious Side, and Virgil feels suddenly… lost. That used to always be a comfort to Roman. Something he clung to in his darker moments.
But something anguished had flooded into the Prince’s eyes when Virgil had said that, and Virgil…
Virgil doesn’t understand why.
“Not anymore, Virgil,” he chokes out in a strained voice. “Thomas doesn’t—I’m not—”
Virgil blinks a few times, his brow furrowing. Slowly, he pushes himself to his feet. “Roman, what are you saying?”
Roman whirls around, his fists clenching and his eyes red and watering. “Spare me the faux ignorance, Anxiety! Janus as much as confirmed that Thomas was lying to me about that. So I know. I know I failed him one too many times now. I know Thomas doesn’t… he doesn’t…” Roman clenches his jaw and averts his gaze again, his expression crumpling.
Virgil glances away, turning that over. That… didn’t make sense. Because Virgil knew—he knew—that Thomas did, in fact, see Roman as his hero. Virgil doesn’t know what Janus told him, or why (because when he thinks about it, even for a moment, he can’t understand why Janus would lie about something like that to Roman), but he knows that Roman is wrong.
Virgil takes a step towards Roman. “Bullshit,” he snaps. “You are his hero. Thomas loves you, Roman. We all do.”
“Shut up!” Roman snaps back. “Why—why do you all keep saying that?”
Virgil takes another step. “Because it’s the truth, Princey.”
Virgil watches as Roman blinks, and the tears that had been brimming in his eyes track down his cheeks. Roman doesn’t scrub them away, either, instead shaking his head.
“I don’t—I don’t understand,” Roman manages, his eyes searching with a desperation that only further tightens the clench in Virgil’s chest. “I’m not… I keep… I don’t deserve it. I—”
Virgil is close enough now to grab him, so he does. He grabs Roman by the arm and yanks him in. Roman stumbles, but Virgil catches him, holding him close with one arm wrapped around his back and the other threading up through his hair to keep him in place.
“Listen to me, Roman,” Virgil says in the Prince’s ear. “We—all of us—love you. We do. We have, we do, and we will. We will say it and we will show it in as many ways as you need until you can believe it yourself.”
He feels Roman’s grip against his own back fist in his sweatshirt. Something like a sob wracks through Roman’s chest, and it’s like a dam breaking open.
Virgil just holds on as tight as he can.
#sanders sides#ts spoilers#sanders sides fanfiction#prinxiety#prinxiety fanfiction#angst#roman angst#so much angst#hurt/comfort#cursing#platonic prinxiety
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It’s a Love-Hate Thing
characters: frat boy!hawks x f!reader, brief mentions of mirko and members of the LOV
genre: smut. nsfw. 18+
notes/warnings: frat!au, college!au, hate-sex, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, mentions of political science (deffo the scariest thing in here), swearing uuuuh lmk if i forgot anything
words: 3.6k
If someone were to ask you how you ended up here, you would have bitterly pointed towards your now drunk roommate, Rumi. She had spent two hours begging you to accompany her to Lambda Omega Vi’s biggest party of the year: their post-rush celebration. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had an avid hatred for greek life, the LOV’s ‘brothers’ were renoundedly the douchiest boys on campus.
Yet, Rumi had pleaded with you, and bargained with dish duty. If you went, she would do all of the dishes for a month. She knew as soon as your eyes narrowed and head titled that she had you. After some fluttered lashes and a sweet pout, it was a done deal. And, damn, were you pissed.
You stood in the corner of a musty, bare living room. There was something bassy and synthetic pumping through a large speaker, and sweaty bodies mingled in the middle of the room. From the sidelines, you played a little game you had made up after your first quarter on campus.
That one is Shiggy; his lips were always chapped, and skin always parched, yet there was always a gorgeous girl attached to his arm. Jin was running the game of beer pong; people around school called him Twice, but the stories always varied as to how that name originated (you heard it was ‘cuz he gave the same girl an STD twice). As your eyes flitted around the room, your face contorted in displeasure. The LOV really was the bottom of the barrel.
That’s when you saw him. The bane of your fucking existence. Keigo fuckin’ Takami. What a prick. You had the displeasure of meeting Keigo in your second quarter Intro to Political Thought class. It was a large lecture, and you sat in the back, making sure to keep at least a few seats between you and the nearest person. You were only taking this class as a GE, and had no interest in making friends with the poli sci majors. Of course, when Keigo came in, he plopped down in the seat right next to yours. His knee bumped yours and he had a sleazy smirk on his face.
He did that every lecture-bumped into you, lazily grinning and never saying a word unless it looked like you were about to get up and move. Then he would need a pencil, despite the one sitting on top of his notebook, or he’d ask for a piece of gum, or ask you to catch him up on the reading he didn’t do. Thus, you were trapped with him for a painful ten weeks. As the quarter progressed, so did his shameless fuckboy behavior. No matter how scathingly you shut him down, he was on you like a fungus.
When you had found out he was part of the LOV, it made everything click. Some girl had come up to him during one of your last lectures, batting her eyelashes, and when you heard her call him Hawks oh so sweetly, you didn’t let him live it down. Every time you saw him it was, hey Hawky, you absolute dumbass. He simply played along, calling you princess and his little dove with a dazzling smile each time. And fuck if it didn’t make you want to bash your head against a wall.
Thus, this is what your relationship became; any chance meetings across campus after that first class together consisted of his shameless flirting and your anti-fraternity war, which always inevitably turned into more bickering. Others would snicker when they witnessed the two of you, resulting in your heads whipping around to face whoever it was, sure to make a point of letting them know just how much you couldn’t stand each other.
So here you were, glaring at him from across his living room, while his arm was thrown around some wasted sorority girl. You nursed your cup of spiked punch, wincing at the cheap alcohol with every sip you took . Then, Keigo caught your gaze. Your eyes locked with his for far too long, but you weren’t going to back down first. Eyes narrowed, you worked your hardest to force all of your anger and hatred into your stare. But when he winked, you practically spit up your punch. You scoffed and flipped him off, turning away after drinking in his initial expression of shock.
Working your way into the kitchen, you smiled behind your cup. Damn, that felt good. Maybe it was petty, but fuck that guy. As you reached the chip bowl, you felt a hand curl around your wrist. You jumped in surprise, whipping around to see Rumi giggling and looking up at you.
“Hey (Y/N)! Hi. Ok, so I know I begged you to come with me, and I know you’re my ride. But um,” she glanced behind her and as your eyes followed her gaze, you understood what she was getting at. “I think I’m gonna uh, catch a ride with Dabi right now.” She was biting her lip, “I’ll still do the dishes for a month, I swear. And the good news is you can totally leave now!”
You sighed and nodded, muttering a just be safe and text me, then she was running off, jumping into who you assumed was Dabi’s arms. After watching them disappear, you went to dump the rest of the punch down the kitchen sink. No point in staying here any longer. Thankfully you had barely had anything to drink, so all that was left to do was grab your purse and get the hell out of here.
Up the stairs, second door on the left. That’s where your stuff should have been. Every time you had been to one of these parties, the hosting fraternity usually offered up a safe room for everyone to keep their belongings. This time it was someone’s bedroom, and when you walked in only to see your purse wasn’t where you had left it, panic began to rise in your throat. There was no way someone had taken it, right? Then, the door behind you shuts, the lock clicking.
“Looking for this, doll?”
Oh absolutely not. Keigo stood in front of the door, your purse dangling from his fingers, that same unbearable smirk on his face. You didn’t respond, instead crossing your arms and stalking over to where he stood. “You know, I didn’t really appreciate your little stunt earlier, (Y/N). I thought we were buds!” He was looking down at you, mock hurt across his face. The fact that he remembered your name made your pulse jump just the slightest.
“What the fuck do you want, Hawks?” You spat out the nickname, taking a step back from him so you could look him level in the eyes. He put your purse behind him and took a step closer.
“Aw, c’mon dove. You know I only like it when you use that special little nickname lovingly.” Keigo’s hand was on the back of his neck, and the display of bullshit modesty made you roll your eyes. In the back of your mind you were thinking how adorable he looked, but you shook those thoughts from your head.
“Keigo, I’m trying to go home, and I don’t understand what the fuck you think you’re doing in here, or what little game you think you’re playing, but you better get out of my way.” You were desperate to sound in control of the situation, but your voice had softened half way through. Of course he noticed, and he took another step towards you.
“I just wanted to see why you thought it would be cute to do me dirty like you did down there, dove. What could I have done to deserve being embarrassed like that in front of my guests, hm?” He imitated you, crossing his arms. His chest was puffed out a little, but he was still smirking at you
You attempted to make a snatch for your bag, but he was too quick.
“Tsk tsk tsk. C’mon now darlin’. Thought you were smarter than that.” His arms had shot out and caught hold of your shoulders. His grip was like steel, and you were starting to feel a little uneasy. He was staring down at you like he was a predator, and you were already a dead thing he had dragged into his den. “I think I’m gonna need an apology for all the trouble you’ve been causing me tonight, dove.” He was shoving you down, and your knees hit the rug on the floor with a thud.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” You were looking up at him, his hands still on your shoulders keeping you against the floor. You despised the way his surprise show of strength forced heat to rush between your legs. One of his hands left your shoulder to cup your cheek, a finger hooked under your chin.
“I’m just doing something I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you last year. Don’t you think you could behave? Don’t you think you owe me some sort of apology?” Keigo was frowning now, gazing down at you through his lashes. Fuck, he was gorgeous. “Now be a good girl.” His hand cupped your face, thumb leaving your chin to trace your lips, while the other left your shoulder and started working on his pants.
“W-what are you-” You were cut off by Keigo shoving his thumb into your mouth, and when you let out a little hum, he beamed down at you. He was unzipping his jeans, doing his best to pull them down with one hand. It was then you noticed his cock hardening under his pants.
“Look at you, already cooing for me. Thought you were gonna give me a harder time than this, dove. What a slut.” He was mocking you, you were sure of it. Yet at his words your cunt clenched. Still, he was wrong; you were gonna give him a hard time. You bit down on his thumb, and he hissed. “Fuck, you really are a brat. Better not try that when I have my cock in that smart mouth of yours.”
He pulled his cock free from his boxers, and your eyes widened just the tiniest bit. He wasn’t particularly thick, but long, with just a hint of a curve. His cock was was throbbing, and he grabbed himself with the hand that was previously pulling down his pants.
When he squeezed himself, he tensed up and shuddered. “Alright dove, open up.” He slapped the head of his cock against your cheek, leaving a trail of precum. He tapped it again against your bottom lip when you refused to take his orders, and something about the obscenity of Keigo smacking your face with his cock had your mouth dropping open involuntarily.
“Good girl, I knew you had it in you to be a good girl for me.” Both his hands wrapped into the hair at the back of your head, and without a second of hesitation, he’s fucking your face.
His hips are thrusting lazily, and his cock is hitting the back of your throat. Your gagging and whimpering only seems to egg him on, and he pushes your face forward until your nose is against his pubic bone. You’re trying to fight the heat rising in your belly, but it’s no use. Impossibly, this is the hottest thing anyone has ever done to you.
“Aw, darlin’, look at you crying over how I fuck that smart little mouth of yours. Does it hurt? Feels so good for me, dove. Love watching you cry too.” You hadn’t even realized the tears falling from your eyes, too busy focusing on your breathing. While you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of Keigo in a sexual way, you definitely had never pictured anything like this. Yet, you were enjoying yourself almost as much as he was.
You glanced up at him, eyes watery and lashes heavy. His face was flushed pink, his lips parted and breath panting. He was holding you against him as if you two were glued together, practically grinding against your face, cock pulsating against your tongue. The whines falling from his lips were music to your ears; he was gasping and sputtering, hips moving a little bit more erratically. The wetness in your panties was growing, along with your frustration. There was no way he was going to cum just like that and leave you here to pick up the mess; there was no way you were gonna let him use you.
When your teeth gently grazed his cock and you started shimmying away from him, Keigo groaned, head falling and hands tugging on your hair. You pulled off of his cock with a pop, stood up, wiped your face of any tears, and pulled your fingers through your hair.
“Sorry, birdy, but I am gonna give you a hard time. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” You squirm around him while he’s trying to catch his breath to grab your purse. It’s almost in your clutches when you’re slammed against the door.
“Think I’m gonna let you leave just like that, dove?” His voice is hot in your ear, and his hands are holding yours above your head, pinning them to the wood of the door. “Think that being a brat is gonna keep me from taking what I want?” He presses his still bare, still throbbing cock against your ass.
You stifle the groan begging to be let out, instead opting to egg him further. “I think you’re a real piece of shit, Keigo. Just another no good, douchey frat boy.”
“Hm, yeah I bet you do. Doesn’t mean you’re not gonna let this douchey frat boy abuse that slutty pussy of yours though, right? Gonna let me take advantage of you even if you fuckin’ hate me, isn’t that right, dove?” He smells like body wash and faintly of beer, and his skin is burning everywhere it’s touching yours. At his filthy words you keen, and rut your ass against his cock. “Mmm, of course you are. All bark ‘nd no bite, huh?”
He puts both of your wrists in one of his hands, and lets the other wander down. His fingers graze your waist, pushing up the material of your t-shirt. Then he’s moving up, hand cupping your breasts, fingers grazing against your nipple through the thin material of your bra. You whine and continue pushing yourself against him, wanting more.
“God, you talk too much Keigo. Too scared to actually fuck me? I doubt you’d be able to make me cum. Bet most the girls you’ve been with have faked it-” You know what you’re doing is dangerous, but you’re already here so why not. Keigo lets out something akin to growl, rumbling from deep in his chest. He’s pulling your shirt over your bra, then tugging the skimpy material down under your breasts.
“Alright, now you’ve really pissed me off brat. I’m gonna make it so the only words you remember are my name and please.” He pinches a nipple, twisting the sensitive nub between his fingers, and bites down on your neck. A moan is pitching from the back of your throat when he brings his hand up from your tits, clamping it down over your mouth. “You’re not gonna make a god damn peep unless I give you permission to, dove. Now just fuckin’ behave and keep your hands up high like that for me.”
He releases the grip he had on your wrists, and you can already feel the bruises that will be covering them tomorrow. Suddenly he’s working on your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping with minimal fumbling, and yanking your pants and panties down in one swift motion. Once they’re past your knees, and your ass is bare to him, he’s humming in approval, hand gliding over your cheeks, grabbing, kneading, pinching.
Finally, he’s running a finger across your slit, avoiding your clit, just barely fluttering past your hole, only touching your pussy enough to collect your wetness on his fingertips.
“Such a high and mighty attitude, but look at you princess. So wet, and I’ve barely touched you. All that just from sucking my cock?” You can feel yourself start to whine against his hand, wanting to shoot back some bitchy response, but when he hears your voice starting up in your throat, he shoves two fingers into your mouth. “Nuh uh, dove. Told you not a sound til’ I say so.”
Right as he says it, he pulls your hips back, giving himself the perfect angle to slam his cock into you. There was no warning, just his cock head suddenly kissing the entrance of your cunt and then the pleasurable stretch of being filled. His fingers shoved themselves backwards into your throat in time with his cock, as if to prevent you from even the littlest bit of noise at the intrusion.
The pace he sets is ruthless, and apart from his pants and whines, the only sound in the room is skin hitting skin as his hips fuck up against your ass. Your knees start to quake, and you paw at the door, relishing the cool feeling of the wood against your skin as compared to the heat of Keigo’s. Your pussy is fluttering; he’s hitting all these spots inside of you with minimal effort, and each time you clench around him he leans forward to press a kiss against your neck.
“Alright pretty girl, I’m gonna take my fingers outta that smart mouth now, and the only thing I wanna hear is how good I’m making you feel. Can tell by the way your sluttly little hole clenches around me that I’m makin’ you feel good, dove.”
As soon as his fingers leave your mouth your gasping and whimpering and making the prettiest noises Keigo’s ever heard. If only he could hear you like this more often, instead of you running your mouth at him. He let himself hold on to the musing; he would absolutely love to fuck the hatred you had for him right out of your body. Ain’t no time like the present.
He’s fucking you with more fervor now, in his mind he has a goal. Your head feels light as he eggs you on, practically begging you to use your words and tell him how good he’s making his little dove feel. God, every time he calls you that you’re practically seeing stars. Still, you don’t want to comply, to give him the satisfaction, but then his cock finds that weak spot inside of you and you’re babbling out praises.
“K-Keigo, feels so good. You’re making me feel so good. Fuck. God dammit.” You want to hate that one of your least favorite people is making you drip all over his cock, but it just feels perfect and you can’t even think anymore about all the nasty things you’ve said to each other beyond the context of now, of fucking like it’s the only thing you two should have ever been doing.
When his hand reaches down to play with your clit, you’re practically lost to the world. The only thing that matters is here and now and the feeling of it all. Your nails are scratching against the door, and you’re confident anyone walking by would get an unpleasant earful of two idiots going at it like there’s no tomorrow. You’re mumbling and whining and grinding your hips up to meet Keigo’s thrusts.
He doesn’t think he can hold himself back much longer, not with the way you're mewling and squirming and fluttering all over his cock, and he’s about ready to beg your orgasm forth. “C’mon dove, can’t have you on my cock all night. Need you to cum for me. Gotta feel you cum on my cock, darlin’.” His thrusts are sloppier, and his head is resting on your shoulder. He’s abusing your clit, rubbing harsh, tight circles, and his other hand is attached to a nipple, kneading and pinching.
“Fuckk-k, please (Y/N).” His voice is airy and needy, and hearing your name fall from his mouth like that brings your orgasm crashing down on you. Your muscles spasm as your pussy clenches down on Keigo’s cock, and he lets out a moan as he cums with you. He fucks both of you through your highs, burying his cum deep in your cunt.
Then he’s pulling out, his head still on your shoulder, when you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled up. You feel a chill as he pulls away from you, ass bare, dripping with cum.
“Well, that was fun, huh smart ass?” Keigo is looking in a small vanity mirror situated on the dresser in the bedroom, fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt. You stand up, legs wobbly, thighs sticky, head spinning. “Maybe we could do it again some time; I think I like you more when you’re fucked stupid and can’t talk shit at me.” He shoots you a wink and a smirk, and you stand there, in front of the door blinking at him.
“So uh, I have a party to get to downstairs, and it looks like you were gonna be heading out anyways. Might wanna um,” he gestures to your undressed state, then gently guides you out from in front of the door. “Well, catch ya later dumplin’.” With a grin and, was that a fucking shaka, Keigo is out the door. You hear his footsteps fading down the stairwell, and you begin to process what just happened as you fix your clothing and grab your bag.
That little son of a bitch.
#hawks x reader#mha x reader#keigo x reader#smut#mha smut#my fic#hawks smut#im nervous abt this one but aaaaaah here we gooo#ty sm clari for reading it for me first ilysm yr my number 1 kith kith#also this was inspired by a conversation w tempest n written for her hehehehehe i hope u like it bb
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in your bedroom after the war (Dick/Artemis)
Title: in your bedroom after the war Summary: As far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could be doing worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass. / Post-Invasion, pre-Outsiders. Rated M. A/N: I have one (1) agenda and that is messy grieving fuck buddies who are each other’s ride-or-dies. if you are not into fic that sits squarely in sad feral horny territory, then this is probably not your speed.
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| GOTHAM
| JANUARY 14, 2017; 12:05 AM EST
Artemis is a bit heavier than she was in her teenage years, but her feet land lightly on the fire escape by the window. An hour ago, she’d called her mom from Metropolis, promising she’d be home by midnight. Ever since her daughter faked her death a year ago, Paula Nguyen has become even more of a worrywart, and Artemis knows that the five minutes she’s running late are going to cause her to receive an earful.
“Didn’t think I’d see you back in this neck of the woods.” A familiar figure drops from the roof above onto the rung below her.
“Nightwing.”
She’s not surprised that he’s been keeping tabs. Officially, he’s been on a leave of absence for the past six months, but Dick, like her, is vigilant in his grief.
She’d come back to Gotham because it put her closer to Metropolis and Beta Squad’s continued investigation of LexCorp, but the truth is that she could have Zeta-tubed from Palo Alto easily. Their—her—apartment had been no good though, not without Wally. So she’d left most of her things in storage to figure out later and moved back in with her mom. On days when Artemis can’t muster the energy to get out of bed, Paula wheels determinedly around the kitchen, ready to whip up some mì xào or a warm bowl of mì gói. They play card games and laugh about how bad Wally was at tiến lên the first time Paula tried to teach him. Your boy has no patience, he always wants to play his strongest cards right away, her mom had teased, and Wally had protested, I make it a rule to always put my best foot forward! and Artemis had loved him even more then.
Loved. Loves. She hates the past tense.
“I mean, were you ever going to ask me to grab coffee?”
She can see the bits of Wally in his cracks. In a room together, it was always easy to tell they were best friends from the way they riffed off each other. The acrobat and the speedster: all verbal gymnastics and fast-moving quips. But unlike Wally, who liked poking fun because he liked getting attention, Dick is at his wittiest when trying to avoid talking about himself.
Artemis reaches out and pulls him to sit down beside her. She makes a show of looking at her watch.
“How’s… 12:15 AM this Saturday?”
Dick pretends to check it against his mental schedule. If his is anything like hers, it probably goes: Wake up. Exercise (beating up bad guys counts). Mourn.
“Yeah, seems like I can swing it.”
“Perfect,” says Artemis, sliding up the glass panes to let them into her childhood bedroom. “I’ve got just the stuff.”
*
In the kitchen, Brucely stirs briefly from his dog bed to sniff the air and yip, then curls back asleep. Paula hands Dick a mug, waiting for him to take a sip before saying, “So you were the one who had the brilliant plan to have my daughter fake her death.”
Dick splutters; from the table, Artemis rises to his defense. “Mom,” she says. “Leave him be.”
Setting his cup down, Dick leans against the cabinets, bending his head slightly and rubbing the back of his neck. He does a good job of appearing chastised, and Artemis wants to roll her eyes, if only because she’s heard from Bette and Raquel that this pose is far too effective at convincing women to want to forgive him or try again.
“I’m not leading much of anything these days, if that’s at all a comfort to you.”
“Hmph.” Paula sniffs. “You live alone?”
“Yeah.” Dick shoots Artemis a questioning look over her mom’s head. Artemis shrugs.
“What do you do to fill the time?”
“A lot of reading. Gotham’s library system actually has a pretty good selection, believe it or not. I’ve also gotten really into meditating.”
“And you don’t sleep.”
Dick stiffens. For the first time, he looks exposed, a boy with too much guilt and too much time on his hands.
“I do. Tonight I was just… restless.”
Paula nods and backs up her wheelchair so she can sit by Artemis, curling her fingers over Artemis’s hand and squeezing. She raises her drink, Artemis and Dick following suit, the three of them toasting to invisible losses.
“Aren’t we all.”
*
Later, back on the fire escape, Dick taps his fingers against the railing, jittery. “I feel like I need to start doing jumping jacks. What was in that stuff?”
Artemis bites back a smile. “Yeah, Vietnamese coffee packs a hit. That’s my bad. Probably should have given you something non-caffeinated at this hour.”
“It’s fine. I’ll jog it out, or something.” He turns to go, but Artemis stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, listen—it was good seeing you tonight. And if you need someone to talk to…” What she really means is: it’d be nice to be around someone who’s hurting as much as I am. Not to say that the rest of the team wasn’t as torn up over Wally’s death, but she and Dick had been ground zero. Closest to the blast.
After a pause, Dick nods. “Yeah… I could use a sparring partner, actually. I’ll send you an address.”
“Okay.” Satisfied, Artemis withdraws her hand, curling her fingers into her palm.
It feels like a start.
*
Dick’s directions lead Artemis to Wayne Manor; from there he takes her to the Bat Cave.
“I thought you were striking out on your own,” Artemis says, using her forearms to deflect a kick to her face. Dick grunts and recovers, throwing a punch to her stomach; she dances out of the way.
“I am. I just pop in here from time to time because Bruce has better equipment. Plus there’s less of a chance of me disturbing the neighbors.” He gestures to the eerily blue-lit stone walls around them.
Artemis feints and goes low, ducking under Dick’s guard. Two quick hits to Dick’s sternum pushes him back, before he gets a hand on her wrist and twists her around so that her back is pressed against his chest.
“Weren’t we supposed to be talking?”
Kicking his shin, Artemis breaks free. “All right, fine. I’ll start.” Jab. “I keep wanting a scapegoat.” Kick. “Like, one person to blame, instead of something as big as the Reach. But it’s not some giant revenge thing, and I know Wally wouldn’t want me to go down that sort of all-consuming rabbit hole even if it was, and that pisses. Me. Off.” On those last words, she manages to use Dick’s momentum against him and flips him over her shoulder.
For a minute, it’s so quiet between them she can hear the faint plip of water dripping from a stalactite into the water below the sparring dais. Still lying on the floor, Dick confesses, “I keep hearing him.”
“I make a joke to myself and he’s there, in my ear, with the punchline. And then…” He passes a hand over his face. “And then I realize that the real punchline is him being gone.”
Slowly, Artemis approaches him. She feels like she did when they were undercover at Haly’s circus so many years ago, that brief moment of hangtime before their hands connected in the air. She means to sit down next to him, pat his shoulder, she doesn’t know what, but instead Dick sweeps her legs out from under her and she goes down hard, the air whooshing out of her chest as she falls flat on her back.
“Agh!” The release sets something loose inside her. Next thing she knows, she’s yelling again, louder, just because.
Dick catches on and then it’s just the two of them shouting, their voices echoing through the cavern, threading around and piling atop each other like a flock of birds. After they’re done, Dick rolls so that they’re lying side by side.
“You know, when we were starting out—when we first became friends—I used to make fun of Wally that if he kept talking so much while running he was bound to swallow more bugs, or something. And he’d just shoot back like, ‘Nah dude, you think I’m not fast enough to see them and dodge them in the air?’ But you know how he was always so hungry after missions? One time I was so mad at him I put a bug in his sandwich. I’ve never forgotten the look on his face after he bit into it and I said, dodge that.”
“You didn’t.” Artemis gasps and covers her mouth, horrified, but she can see it so vividly: the colors draining from Wally’s face, making his freckles pop even more against his skin, the same greenish tint his cheeks took the time they went to Vietnam and he got food poisoning. He’d spent two days feverishly glaring up at the mosquito netting, and Artemis had draped cold hand towels over his forehead and promised she wasn’t going to leave him for the very obliging boy who kept bringing them ice.
“I did.” Dick is gleeful. “Really put the ‘rank’ in prank.”
Artemis snorts; the snort turns into a full-blown guffaw. Dick turns toward her, laughing too. His hair is matted with sweat but still soft; it brushes against her forehead.
It feels so good to be close to someone again, to be able to flip on a dime from sadness to frustration to anger to laughter and not have to explain herself. She can’t remember the last time she smiled and didn’t feel guilty about it, and she means it more affectionately than anything when she reaches over and brings Dick’s mouth to hers, like if she inhales whatever they’ve temporarily managed to create here between them, it’ll be enough to tide her over for the next few months. For a second, he’s warm and responsive, before his lips stiffen and he pulls back.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, shouldn’t blame yourself for getting back in the game. Artemis is sick of people telling her how to deal, how it’s supposed to go. It’ll get better and then it doesn’t. People talk like there are guidebooks for this kind of shit, like it’s a marathon she just needs to pace herself through. And it’s the stupidest thing, but she misses being held.
She sits up and crosses her arms, resisting the urge to curl in on herself. “You didn’t do anything. I’ll go.”
“No, Artemis, wait, I don’t think you should go, I just want to understand what’s going on—”
“I want you to touch me, okay?” she explodes. “I want you to touch me because he’s never going to again and I know you loved him too and—and maybe if it’s you, I won’t feel so desperately alone.”
Dick looks stricken, and then, hesitantly, he reaches for her. His eyes are so blue, the kind of crushed eggshell you’d use to make a paint. “You’re not alone.”
“Prove it,” she says, vision blurring with tears—wanting, needing him closer, and then his hairline is up against hers again and his nose is at her cheek, his mouth at her jaw, soft but with a willingness to bruise. Don’t ask me what we’re about to do, Artemis silently begs, and Dick doesn’t.
*
Wally had been a restless lover. Always turning them over, switching positions. Artemis had taken it as a challenge, part of the ongoing competition that defined their relationship. Deep down, she’d known that Wally would be just as content if the rest of their sex life consisted solely of spooning gently on Sundays, which, if anything, was why she’d been so eager to experiment—because it felt like an easy gift she could give, not something she had to master to “maintain excitement” or make him stay.
She’s not sure what she expected from Dick. Maybe that’s a comfort—that she wasn’t fantasizing before they happened, wondering about all the mechanics of how it would go. Dick lets her call the shots, lets her ride him into the ground, the grip of his fingers around her thighs the only reminder she isn’t just angling toward oblivion. When he presses his thumb between her legs, it’s a weird sort of anchor—like hearing a voice pick up on a line you thought was dead. She has a body, and here’s someone on the other end of it, caring about her release. As soon as that thought hits, the relief shudders through her; she keeps rocking long enough to feel Dick follow, a stutter and a grunt, before she collapses boneless over him, the sweat of his skin a comforting stickiness against her cheek.
Internally, she apologizes to Bruce for desecrating his training space. Then again, they’re hardly the first of the Justice League to get handsy in less than appropriate places. She’s seen how Black Canary and Green Arrow act around each other.
Below her, Dick catches his breath. The rush of blood—his or hers—is loud in her ears.
“I didn’t think you’d be so…” Giving, she means to say, but it gets lost on her tongue. “I mean, Zatanna…” she trails off again.
If Dick’s embarrassed at the prospect of his ex-girlfriend having blabbed about the details of their sex life to Artemis, he doesn’t show it. His fingers find a snag in her hair; gently, he works it loose. The air smells hedonistic. He keeps combing. Nice is the only word she can think to describe it, and that makes her want to cry again, so she squeezes her eyes shut.
“Thank you,” she whispers against his chest.
Dick pauses his ministrations. He flattens his palm against the base of her neck and just—holds her there.
“Don’t mention it.”
When she goes home that afternoon to shower, she runs the water on full blast for a long time.
*
Armed with Chinese food, she visits Dick’s place the next day intent on making amends. Dick doesn’t even act surprised; he just points to the glass coffee table where she can set the bag of chopsticks, napkins, and takeout.
“I’m trying to decide what to watch.”
There’s really no need for him to stand in front of the TV the way he does, one hand propped on his hip as he clicks through options with the remote. Artemis lets herself ogle, a bit. The surest way to blow past what happened between them yesterday is to be honest with herself, right? And as far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could have done worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass.
“Any preferences?”
“Between what?” asks Artemis, cracking open the carton of lo mein and settling back against the cushions. The Netflix suggestion algorithm onscreen paints a condemning picture of Dick’s tastes. “True crime or… true crime?”
Wally had been really into nature documentaries. One time during freshman year, when they were still living on Stanford’s campus, they’d gotten high in Wally’s dorm room and watched Blue Planet. Wally had cried when the seal got flung apart by killer whales.
“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark it is, then,” says Dick. He settles next to her on the couch, peeling back one of the orders and sniffing its contents. “What’s this one?”
“Salt and pepper ribs. They were today’s special.”
“Artemis.” Dick beams. “You really do care about me.”
*
Ten minutes into the episode begs a single question: “Isn’t it sort of depressing that you spend so much of your day fighting crime, and then you go home to unwind and just watch… more of it?”
Dick shrugs. “It keeps me sharp. And it’s nice seeing other people solve problems.”
“Well, if you ever feel like branching out, there’s a short film about Rubik’s cubes you might like.” Artemis nudges his side. “Remember when you were a scrawny math geek?”
Bringing both hands behind his head, Dick smirks. “Still a math geek. Just not scrawny.”
Artemis stares. That was just a bit of friendly showboating, right? Or was it a flirt? Not trusting herself, she whips her gaze back toward the TV. What feels like eons later, the credits roll.
“Artemis,” Dick says, too soft for having just finished a show about murder. He taps the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some food stuck.”
She wipes with the back of her hand; a breaded piece of orange chicken emerges as the culprit. Without thinking, she flicks it off, sending it flying somewhere onto Dick’s carpet.
“Oops.”
Chuckling, Dick shakes his head. “I need to vacuum tomorrow, anyways.”
The mention of tomorrow stirs her. “Right. I should head out.”
“Yeah.” Dick rises to help her clean up their mess, holding open the plastic bag so she can toss in the soiled napkins and other bits of trash. “Or—”
He hesitates, but the hesitation’s enough. It might as well be a hand on her wrist, with how it stops her in her tracks. All night, despite what she told herself, she’s been looking for proof: proof that his aloneness fits the shape of hers, that he needs her, too. This time, Dick makes the first move—cups her face in both hands and kisses her, slow and deep and full of heat. Some pepper from the food they ate still lingers on his lips, making her mouth tingle, and Artemis is dizzy and flat on her back on the couch before she knows it, giving in.
Not scrawny at all, she thinks, admiring the solidness of Dick’s knees on either side of her, the weight of his frame as they grind together. The sheer mechanics of it feel very horny-teenager-after-prom, but the way Dick sucks her bottom lip and swallows her breath down with it is decidedly adult. These days, Artemis practically lives in her sports bra, which doesn’t exactly grant easy access, but when Dick’s fingertips skim over the cotton covering her breasts the sensation zings all the way down her spine.
“Need… off…”
“Yeah,” Dick murmurs, humming as he moves down the column of her neck. “Gimme a sec, I’m working on it.”
She’d worn sweats because she figured their bagginess would keep her from sparring again and any potential… situations that could arise from that. Instead, all it means is Dick unties the drawstrings easily, sliding her pants down her legs. Cool air brushes across her as he shifts positions; she wants to sob in relief. His teeth graze her hip and then catch the edge of her panties and—oh. Fuck. The moan tears out of her and she scrabbles at the armrest, hips rising of their own accord. Next time, she is handcuffing Dick to a bed, because what he’s doing with his tongue and fingers should be illegal. She can feel him grinning, the bastard, and the only thing keeping her from crushing his head to a pulp between her thighs is the maneuver he pulls where he hooks her knees over his shoulders, so he can change the angle and plunge in deeper. Artemis shoves the edge of her T-shirt into her mouth at the last minute, only barely managing to muffle her cry.
Dick surfaces from his solo mission looking entirely too satisfied, mouth glistening. Trembling, still, from her orgasm, Artemis squints at him, possessed by some combination of unbridled lust and rage.
“Dick.”
“You calling, or asking?”
“Shut up,” she hisses. She feels like a newborn foal, after what he just did to her, but the urge to dismantle him just as thoroughly sends her surging upward and pushing him back. Dick welcomes their reversed positions by peeling off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder, all while Artemis works furiously at his belt. It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear the metal clink against his button and watch the leather slide through the loops. To see the shadows the light of the TV casts on him—the lashes on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat. Artemis hadn’t paid much attention the first time, too desperate and caught up a bit in self-loathing, but now she’s actually enjoying this, savoring the flex of Dick’s abs as he pushes up to meet her, his skin pebbling at her touch.
“I’m going to take you apart,” she purrs.
Dick groans and bucks. The sensation sends a sharp spike of pleasure through her, and she clamps down on him tighter, refusing to yield.
“Try me, Tigress,” he rasps, pushing himself up on one arm so he can mouth at her collarbone. With his other hand, he pulls off her hairtie so her hair comes free of her ponytail, and this is going to be a thing with him, isn’t it, him wanting to fuck her while her hair swings loose around her face. She indulges him for a few minutes, claws his back and bites his shoulder for good measure, but then she’s pushing him back down and stretching out her body as languidly as possible to remind him who’s boss. Their pace slows. Dick keeps a hand fisted in her hair, so he can tug her head back in order to keep her neck exposed to his wanton mouth, but his grip gets less sure the closer she pushes him to the edge.
“Art—” says Dick, the single syllable like a painting pinned to the wall, fraught with desire, and then he just lets it drop, the tresses of her hair falling through his fingers. She wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that he does look like a boy wonder, right then, in the midst of coming undone, chest flushed and hair mussed and pupils blown nearly wide enough to overtake the blue.
She doesn’t, but she stays the night, and that’s close enough.
*
High-functioning, Artemis’s therapist had called her, before Artemis moved back to Gotham. And it does feel like a high—the sneaking around, the after-hours meet-ups, the back-and-forth. There’s no one really keeping tabs on her, though Artemis has plenty of cover stories if anyone asks (new intel, side reconnaissance, etcetera, etcetera). Her mom eyes her and says, “As long as you’re not planning on staging your own death again, because I will find out and I will kill you this time,” and that’s that. Artemis nearly laughs. If anything, what she’s doing is the opposite, a small resurrection. An entire month and a half passes this way: day trips and dinners and movie nights and Dick and her in a bathtub, in the shower, against a wall. She even wears a gown and heels once, not because they have an actual event to attend, but because Dick has a fantasy that involves taking her from behind in the Wayne Manor library.
They’re in his apartment on a Sunday morning bathing in the afterglow, sheets tangled around their waists. Thank god Dick is one of those assholes that splurged on not only a nice mattress but also a solid bed frame. Artemis reaches over to push the hair out of his eyes. The black tuft on the back of his head that she likes grabbing is fluffed up like a duck's tail, and under the sunlight slanting through the windows, he looks angelic.
“Are you falling back asleep?”
Yawning, Dick snags her around the waist, dragging her to him. She should not delight this much in being manhandled.
“You wore me out,” he complains, tucking his chin over her shoulder.
“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Artemis sighs. Dick growls a little at the dig, fingers tightening against her hip.
Well. If he’s going to nap, she is, too. Comfortably spooned, she snuggles back against him, prepared to drift off.
“Do you think Wally would have wanted…” Dick doesn’t finish the thought.
Artemis turns in his arms. Dick has long eyelashes, and he’s looking at her through them almost bashfully. She places a hand on his chest. Feels his heartbeat thump once, twice.
“I think he would want us to be happy.”
“Are you?” Dick’s voice fades out and he has to swallow hard to clear his throat. “Happy?”
“I’m not… miserable.”
Dick runs his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder. “Me neither.”
“You know, Wally and I thought…” She bites her lip, remembering a whoosh of air, Wally speeding to her side to kiss her and interrupting her report on the disabled Paris MFD. I know we promised each other we’d get out of this game, but maybe we can have our life together and play hero, too. “We thought we’d have everything.”
Dick’s response isn’t mournful; it’s matter-of-fact. “After my parents died, I never really convinced myself that I could have it all.”
“That sounds like something Batman would say.”
“Does it?”
“A little.”
Once upon a time, Artemis had stood before the team ready to lay bare her darkest secret, waiting to be kicked out. And Dick had shown his hand: he’d known from the beginning and hadn’t cared. You aren’t your family. You’re one of us. She knows he’s second-guessed himself over the years, wondering how fit he actually is to play leader. But for her, trust has always been the easiest thing about the two of them. It was why she’d said yes so easily to his deep cover mission—because she knew that he wouldn’t quit until he’d brought all of them home, that he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.
Taking his face in both her hands, she looks deep into his eyes. “You deserve good things, Dick Grayson.”
“Mm.” Dick smiles into her kiss, hooks his ankle over hers. “Keep telling me that. I’ll start to believe it.”
*
Jade abandons Will and Lian on a Tuesday, and Artemis’s carefully crafted equilibrium falls apart. At least this time she’s not the one directly being left, unlike when she was a teenager. Her expectations of her older sister had hardly been high, but if she’d plotted them on a graph they’d have trended upward. Now they’ve tanked.
“Did she leave any hint of where she was going?” Dick asks over the whir of his juicer. He’s gotten really into squeezing oranges lately; Artemis can’t complain because he always gives her the first glass.
“It’s Jade. She never wants to be found, and I hardly think she’s about to try an Eat Pray Love type thing.”
“Eat Slash Steal, maybe?” Dick offers, dropping two ice cubes into a drink and setting it in front of her.
Artemis sips, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him at the same time. “Watch it, that’s still my family you’re talking about.”
“I’m sorry. How’s Will taking it?”
“As well as any dad trying to raise a two-year-old by himself would.”
“So, poorly.” Dick taps his finger against the table. “Are they coming here?”
Artemis looks at him blankly. “Why?”
“I figured they might want to be closer to you and your mom now that Jade’s gone. Gotham’s not so bad—you and I turned out fine. And Will probably needs to look into preschools and a babysitter for Lian soon. If you move in with me, you can bring her over whenever.”
The last piece of information slips in so casually she thinks she’s misheard. “What?”
“If you move in with me, you can bring Lian over whenever,” repeats Dick. “This place is as good as yours. You’re over here all the time anyway.”
Suddenly, she can’t breathe. “You’re serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She can’t meet his eyes. “W—Will’s home is in Star City. He’s not going to move.”
Slowly, Dick says, “Okay. But my offer doesn’t really depend on Will.”
Her stuff is still in boxes. She’s still paying for a storage unit almost 3,000 miles away. And Dick is waiting on her so intently it makes her chest hurt.
Artemis stands up. “We’re not doing this.”
Dick’s eyebrows rise. Annoyance, or maybe anger, flickers across his face. “You wanna fill me in on what exactly it is we’re doing, according to you?”
“We’re not going to fight about this like we’re…” In a relationship. In love. In anything other than a messy configuration started by shared grief. She doesn’t say any of it out loud, but she doesn’t need to—Dick’s always been great at reading people, and he’s known all her tells from the start.
“Right.” The single syllable comes out as cold and pointed as an icicle. He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up. The clouds are rolling in, throwing shadows across his features. Even now, Artemis wants to kiss him, wants to be the one to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows away.
“Dick…”
“Do me a favor, will you?” Dick grabs his jacket from the hook by his door, shrugging it on. He pauses, briefly, in the doorway. “Lock my door on the way out.”
That night, she lies alone in her bedroom next to the picture of her, Wally, and Brucely. Brucely snuffles at the foot of her bed and then leaps onto the covers, and this time she doesn’t shoo him off. Neither does she fall asleep.
*
There was a song Jade had liked to sing, passed down from their mother: a Vietnamese lullaby about a yellow butterfly, to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” The butterfly flies all over the sky. Come and see. Come and see. When it became clear that Artemis’s hair would grow in blond, not black, Jade started pulling it, making her giggle. You’re the yellow butterfly, see?
The taxicab she calls for the airport is bright yellow in the morning light. Plain old civilian travel for plain old civilian business. You don’t need to be a superhero to fly across the country and move in with your brother-in-law and your niece. She’ll sing silly little songs and wash Lian’s hair, and they’ll be a family same as anyone else’s: clumsy, incomplete.
“Artemis.” Dick coalesces out of the fog. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a week, and she should be mad that he’s here because it probably means he’s been monitoring her web traffic and caught wind she’d bought plane tickets. Still, all she feels is relief.
Jade had laughed when Artemis had let slip what she was doing during one rare sisterly bonding moment. “Oh, darling sister, your thing with your little bird boy isn’t about moving on. You’re using him as a holding pattern. Try not to damage him too much, hm?” Rankled, Artemis had hung up the phone—what did Jade know about anything, besides shoving it under the rug and pretending it didn’t matter? Now, though, Artemis sees things more clearly. Jade did know something about bodies and what they could and couldn’t fix; after all, isn’t that why she ran?
She worries with the strap of her duffel bag, letting Dick approach.
“If this were a romcom, you would have waited until I got to the airport and then run through security.”
“If this were a romcom,” says Dick, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’d be trying to make you stay.”
She thinks he might be the one person left on this planet who knows her best. She thinks they could save each other, if they’d let themselves try. But they each have work to do on their own, first.
Setting down her bag, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Wherever else she goes, this spot will always feel like forgiveness. Nose buried in her hair, Dick squeezes her back.
The taxi driver rolls down his window. “Is this guy coming with us or not?”
Artemis pulls back, and there’s so much sky in Dick’s eyes.
“You know where to find me,” she says.
*
| STAR CITY
| JULY 29, 2018; 7:30 AM PST
“Who are you here to recruit this time?” Will asks, leaning against the doorframe, but Artemis doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t need any details but the black hair she can see just over Will’s shoulder, Dick’s voice at the end of a line.
He jumps, and she jumps with him. They’ll figure out everything else as they go.
Before Dick can respond, she says: “I’m in.”
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Only Fans (Reid/Reader)
Requested by reminiscing-writer via my ask box: But like imagine if the team gets a new agent on the team and Spencer takes literally seconds to recognize her lmao SuRpRiSe she’s an ex-porn star whose porns he was/is a huge fan of and even tho she’s Uber professional and even genius- he just can’t look her in the eyes without seeing her doing things to him lmao y did I think of this
Thank you so much for the request (and your patience with this prompt)! This fic is from Spencer's perspective, so it's a little different from what I usually write. I really liked this idea since it's a mix of crack and smut-ish stuff, so I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!
Title: Only Fans Pairing: Reid x Reader Rating: M/Explicit Words: 1427 Warnings: Swearing and borderline smut-- everything in this fic is c/o Spencer Reid's imagination, so no outright sexual activity. Even as an M/Explicit work, there’s not much smut. A little sub!Reid?
I honestly thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when she walked into the bullpen, guided by Prentiss. I wasn't used to seeing her in FBI-appropriate clothing.
To be frank, I wasn't used to seeing her in any clothing appropriate for situations outside of the bedroom. I tried to be discreet while scanning her body as she shook hands with the other agents in the room.
My eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I noted as my eyes fell to her breasts. I'd recognize them anywhere. My mind wandered to a baby blue set of lingerie she'd worn in a video I'd seen. I knew I shouldn't think about her in that way, especially after seeing the badge on her left hip. I couldn't miss it with the hourglass figure.
I chastised myself in my head and tried to go back to my paperwork. I began scribbling meaningless notes in red pen on the case report in front of me while my mind continued to wander to all the times I'd seen her before-- legs spread and moaning.
After what felt like hours making pen marks and fantasizing I heard Prentiss clear her throat above me. "Reid," she said sternly, snapping me back to reality. "Reid, this is our new agent, Y/N." She gestured to the woman I had been daydreaming about. The woman held out her hand to me for a shake.
I hesitantly took her hand and shook. "It's nice to meet you Dr. Reid," she seemed to purr. "I've seen some of your lectures. I'm a really big fan." If only she knew.
I licked my lips and furrowed my brow slightly. "Thank you," I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "It's nice to hear someone appreciates my boring lectures."
"Oh they're far from boring," she mused. "They're part of what inspired me to become an FBI agent." She smiled, and I could feel myself getting hard. "And I'm definitely excited to be working with you." I felt a chill run down my spine. "And the rest of the team, of course," she added, gesturing to Emily.
I swallowed and let out a breathy laugh, looking to the floor as Emily led her to Rossi's office. How the fuck am I going to work with her when I can't even talk to her without getting hard?
Several days passed until we had a case. In that time, Y/N hadn't posted anything on any of her accounts (at least the accounts I knew about). I was almost grateful-- I thought it would make it easier to transition to seeing her as a colleague rather than an object of infatuation.
Easier said than done, I suppose. I could almost remember every frame of every video she’d ever posted, and every time I saw her in the bullpen with her lip between her teeth or the tip of her tongue barely visible, it was all I could think about-- those lips on my neck or that tongue on my cock. I dreaded seeing her in the bullpen because she wouldn’t get out of my head.
It only got worse when we got our first case. When she walked into the conference room, she was wearing a charcoal blazer with a low-cut blouse and the tightest pair of slacks I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even bother to make my usual comments as Garcia gave us the case details, because I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of her exposed cleavage every chance I could.
I couldn’t help myself. How was I supposed to focus on a case when there was a woman-- not only sexy but smart-- that I had seen naked on multiple occasions sitting across the table from me? There was a part of me that selfishly couldn’t wait to see her in the field with a bulletproof vest and a gun. Most of her pictures, videos, and streams had her acting as a submissive, but I had a feeling she was more a dominant type and just produced what appealed to the most subscribers. I’m a sucker for strong women, I guess.
The case was relatively open and shut. It didn’t take long to catch the guy, but the arrest was something else. Mainly because it was exactly like I imagined but better. I was her support during the takedown. Watching Y/N yell at an unsub and chase him down was almost erotic. I felt a little gross, but as she clicked a pair of handcuffs on him I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks and imagine what it would be like if she handcuffed me and had her way with me.
When we stepped on the jet, most of the team crashed immediately, but Y/N sat at the table with me. I worked on the case report and she had her nose in a novel I’d already read. After an hour or so, she closed her book and sighed. “Can I check out your report?” she asked out of the blue.
“It’s-- uh-- it’s not finished yet,” I sputtered.
“I know,” she replied, setting the book down in the seat next to her. “I’m just curious.” She chuckled. “And I may need a couple of tips when I’m writing up my first report for the BAU.”
I smiled and handed her the report. She scanned through it at first, but then seemed to linger on a couple of paragraphs. I couldn’t see what she was so focused on, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it. I was watching her facial expressions as she quietly mouthed the words to herself with her brow furrowed. She finally handed it back. “Thanks,” she said. “Looks great. I just think you should add more to it about how much of a badass I was when I took that son of a bitch down.” Immediately after, she winked and picked her book back up. The rest of the flight was a long one.
When we touched down, Y/N offered to give me a ride home. It would mean leaving my car, but I couldn’t say no. I knew I had no chance of having sex with her, but it would at least be nice to get to know the woman I’d been jacking off to for months now.
We didn’t talk for the first few minutes of the car ride. She had her phone playing music through the AUX, and I recognized the music from one of her videos. “Have you heard this song?” she asked suddenly, glancing over at me before returning her attention to the road.
“Uh, yeah, I have,” I responded, trying to act as though I wasn’t replaying a video of her using a vibrator. “I really like it.”
I saw her grin, and it was silent for a couple seconds. “Zugzwang,” she announced, and I immediately felt panic set in. I shifted in my seat, and got ready to defend myself. “Spence,” she began (I noted the nickname), “I read your report on the plane because I had a sneaking suspicion I knew you from somewhere.”
“Well, you said you’ve seen some of my lectures,” I suggested.
She laughed quietly. “I meant in a more adult setting.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do you know what I studied in college?” she asked. “Linguistics.” She looked over at me for half a second. “I recognized your language from the tips you sent me. Zugzwang is your username.”
“Y/N, I am so sorry,” I began, but she cut me off.
“Spencer, there’s no need to apologize. You helped pay my tuition that helped me get here. Just know that I’m a professional, and I know you are too.” We pulled up to my apartment as she finished. I felt my cheeks flush, and I went to grab my bag from the back seat. I opened the door, getting ready to step out, but she stopped me by gently grabbing my wrist. “I see how you look at me: in the office and in the field. I know this is probably out of line, but I’d love to give you some tips, too, if you’d let me.”
I was absolutely speechless as I stepped out of her car. She slipped a piece of paper in my hand and blew a kiss to me (the way she ended her streams). When I stepped into my apartment, I opened the paper to find her personal phone number with ‘xoxo’ written at the bottom. Suddenly I couldn’t wait to see her in the bullpen.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid/reader#reid x reader#reid/reader#spencer reid smut#rsw writes
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