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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

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don't tell Leah

barca femeni x platonic reader :)

based on a request that i changed a little

r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira

Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.

This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.

The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.

So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.

Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.

Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.

You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.

What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?

Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.

"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.

"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.

As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.

Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."

Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.

"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.

"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.

Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.

"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"

You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.

"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.

"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.

It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.

Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.

"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.

"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.

You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.

"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.

"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."

Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"

"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.

"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.

"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.

"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.

"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."

"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.

"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.

"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.

Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.

"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.

You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.

-----

let me know if you want to see more of young reader and the team :)

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #ingrid engen #lucy bronze #keira walsh

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poisonlove · 5 months

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I NEED YOU | j.o

part 1

This is the second part, I hope you like it

I turn the letter in my hands again, biting my lower lip thoughtfully.

I was sitting on the bleachers of the school gym, watching our basketball team, the Tigers, practice. Despite being physically present, my mind was consumed by the words of that letter, slowly gnawing at me with the agony of curiosity. I'm really trying to stay focused, to cheer for the impressive baskets, step-backs, or three-pointers, but my head feels disconnected from my body.

"Come on!" Isaac shouts after making yet another successful shot. "Did you see that shot?" he asks from a distance, giving me a proud smile. I give him a thumbs up, signaling that I witnessed his shot, and the dark-haired boy smiles broadly, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Isaac turns around, and I catch a glimpse of the number 10 on the back of his jersey.

My eyes return to the letter in my hands, my thumb gliding over the paper.

"My brother is a true idiot," a feminine voice exclaims suddenly. I redirect my attention to the sound of the voice and smile when I see Jenna Ortega standing on the steps near me. Her brown eyes scrutinize me with amusement, a small smile painted on her lips.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, noticing the two bottles of peach tea she holds.

"Isaac can be an idiot... but he's really good at basketball," I remark, stealing a quick glance at the mentioned boy, smiling as he skillfully dribbles the ball. "I understand," Jenna murmurs calmly, walking over to stand in front of me. "Can I sit?" she asks timidly, seeking unnecessary permission.

"Yes, of course," I murmur quickly, watching with the corner of my eye Jenna's movements.

Jenna raises the corners of her lips in a smile, sitting next to me. The scent of her fragrance wafts into my nostrils, making me sigh at how delightful it is.

"Do you want one?" she asks, offering me a peach tea bottle. "Yes, please," I reply with a polite smile, reaching out to take the refreshing drink. Our fingers brush, and instinctively, I lift my gaze to her eyes, seeing Jenna doing the same. Her doe-like brown eyes intensely lock onto mine through her long lashes, almost sending shivers down my spine with the intensity.

I avert my gaze, clearing my throat.

"I didn't ask if you wanted this because I know you don't like lemon," she innocently murmurs, almost stiffening as she realizes what she said. "How do you know?" I ask with genuine interest, taking a sip of the refreshing beverage.

"When you come to our house, you've said it several times to Isaac," Jenna says, and I look at her with a raised eyebrow, noticing her slight nervous movements.

"Oh, right," I reply, realizing. It doesn't seem too strange that Jenna knows such a thing; after all, I have to remind myself that Isaac's house is hers too. "Anyway, thanks anyway... but what are you doing here? I don't want to kick you out, of course, but you've never come to the practices," I ask curiously, and Jenna looks at me carefully while taking a sip of her tea.

My eyes immediately focus on her lips, seeing how the dimple on her cheeks becomes more pronounced as her lips curl to quench her thirst. Her eyes don't stray from mine, as if she wants to imprint me in her mind.

"Oh, I just promised my brother that if he got a B in math, I would come to see him," she says with an indifferent shrug.

I smile shyly.

"Oh, okay... it's also strange for me that he made it," I say jokingly, and Jenna smiles widely, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, I made the bet knowing he wouldn't, but here I am," Jenna says, smiling, directing her gaze to my hands.

She absentmindedly bites her lower lip, almost thoughtfully. "Is that a letter?" she asks with curiosity. I look at the letter in my hands that I had completely forgotten I still had, talking with Jenna distracted me. "Oh, yes, nothing important," I say without thinking too much, putting the letter in my pocket.

"Mmmh... if you say so," she says with a small smile on her lips, sparkling eyes... of I don't really know what. "And tell me... why are you here... because..." Jenna starts innocently, playing with the edges of her red and black checkered shirt. "Because you like my brother?" she timidly concludes, looking attentively at a thread of her ripped jeans, twirling her finger around it.

I almost spit out the tea I was drinking.

"What? No, no," I quickly say, blushing with embarrassment. "Misery, no," I quickly conclude, looking at Jenna with flushed cheeks.

"Mmmh..." she says unconvinced.

"Do you know that I like peach tea, and you don't know that I'm a lesbian?" I ask with a amused tone, and Jenna lightly bites her lower lip with amusement. "I don't know," she says shrugging indifferently, looking at me with a small smile.

This girl is really... unique.

(...)

"Sign! Sign against domestic violence!" I exclaim loudly, vehemently displaying the document I had in my hands, trying to get some female signatures.

After showing the letter to my best friend Sierra three weeks ago, we tried to come up with a plan to gather more clues about who might be the mysterious girl who wrote that letter for me. Besides the neat handwriting, we had noticed that she wrote the letter "E" in a very peculiar way, almost doing it backward.

"No, Sierra, it's not working," I mutter exasperatedly, looking at my best friend. "No one is signing... and as worrisome as it may be, we still get no results," I say, nervously biting my lower lip.

Sierra sighs and also puts the document down, looking at me with eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I've got an idea," she says, smiling widely, showing all 32 teeth. "Unfortunately, teenagers are too stupid to understand their rights... but there must be something that can grab their attention," she says, smiling broadly. "What is it?" I ask with curiosity.

"Votes for the dance," she says innocently.

Sierra opens her backpack and looks for something. Once found, she pulls out a huge stack of papers. "I had thought of a plan B," she says, waving the papers with pride.

I smile at her relatively brilliant idea. "You're a genius," I say sincerely. "You're truly amazing," I conclude with a huge smile on my face.

"I'll take care of the classes over there," she says, pointing to the left corridor. "I'll handle that," I say, smiling slightly and pointing to the right one.

"Girls, I'm here too!" Melissa intervenes with an offended tone. "Right, you take care of the upper floor," I say to my sister, winking, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

Once the tasks are assigned, we start the plan.

I approach the door of the 3A class with my heart pounding in my chest. Tension builds up as I raise my hand to knock, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor, disrupting the tranquil rhythm of the lesson inside.

The wood responds under my knuckles, a dull noise that captures everyone's attention. Curious glances from students focus on me, and the teacher watches me with an inquisitive look.

"Come in," the teacher says with curiosity, placing the pen on the desk.

"Excuse the disturbance," I say nervously, my eyes scanning the faces of the students, and I notice Jenna Ortega at the back of the classroom. The girl doesn't take her eyes off me.

"On behalf of the principal, I've come to collect signatures for the dance," I say, trying to convey sincerity in my voice.

The teacher blinks with surprise. "Oh, yes, proceed," he says, smiling, sitting down at the desk. The tension dissipates slightly, but I still feel the curious stares of the students as I approach to collect the signatures.

I distribute some sheets carefully, watching the students start signing with a smile on their faces. The initial tension gradually dissolves, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere as students exchange some light comments about the upcoming dance.

Jenna Ortega, from her corner at the back of the classroom, lifts her gaze from the paper to fixate on me again.

"So, who's going to the dance?" I ask with an encouraging smile, trying to engage the students.

A guy raises his hand. "My girlfriend and I will definitely be there!"

Another voice chimes in, "It's always fun, count us in!"

Jenna, still with her eyes on me, nods, "Count me in too, it'll be interesting."

The class seems to positively embrace the idea, and the teacher, observing the general enthusiasm, smiles satisfactorily. The signature collection proceeds smoothly, and as I retrieve the sheet from Jenna's desk, our eyes meet.

I immediately put the signed sheets into a folder, feeling the weight of responsibility decrease slightly. I walk purposefully towards another room, trying to maintain an air of confidence despite my mind still buzzing with the adrenaline from the situation.

(...)

"So, how did it go?" I ask with curiosity, biting my nail nervously.

I was in Isaac's room, pacing back and forth in the swimsuit and bikini top to cover my chest. He had invited me to a quiet day with friends by the pool.

"Sorry, but I found nothing," Sierra says with disappointment, sighing tiredly. "I read every 'E,' looking for that peculiarity, but really, I didn't find anything that matched it," she says with a discouraged tone.

"Me neither," my sister adds on the phone, disappointed.

"Okay, thanks anyway," I say with a sigh, putting two fingers on the bridge of my nose as a sign of concentration. "I'll take a look now," I bite my lower lip nervously, "before going to the pool," I conclude.

"Okay, let me know," Sierra says with curiosity. "We'll talk later, girls," I say, smiling slightly.

I end the call with a sigh, the phone slipping onto Isaac's bed as I sit down with dismay. I pull out the folder with the signatures from my corridor, my nervous fingers gripping the plastic edge.

Each page is a growing anxiety, each signature bringing me closer to the breaking point. Names slip under my fingers, and the sense of urgency pushes me to search more intensively. I delve even deeper into the search, scrutinizing each sheet with almost obsessive precision. The tension reflects on my hands, flipping through documents, notes, and signatures with an almost manic focus.

The feeling of despair grows as possibilities seem to slip through my fingers. I flip through pages and pages, searching for that unmistakable backward "E." With every seemingly promising signature, my heart races, only to be followed by disappointment when it's not the right one. Doubt creeps in, fearing that the answer might elude me once again.

Then, among the pages, I spot that distinctive signature. A closer look, a comparison with other handwriting samples, and suddenly realization strikes like lightning. Jenna Ortega. A mix of dismay and relief washes over me as I understand that the solution was in front of me all along.

I'm not sure how to take this revelation, whether to be happy for solving the mystery or excited that my friend's sister had such intense thoughts about me. Imagining Jenna moaning my name sends a shiver down my spine, a fire igniting in my lower abdomen.

I had always thought Jenna was sexy, but thinking about what hides behind that innocent face...

I bite my lower lip with mischief.

A knock on the door distracts me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I mutter absentmindedly, my voice strangely hoarse. My eyes watch with curiosity as the door opens slowly, revealing Jenna Ortega behind it. "Isaac asked me to come get you," she says, smiling broadly.

My eyes slowly traverse her body, lingering on her toned legs exposed by the terribly short shorts and the white top she's wearing, with the word Anonymous printed on it in bold letters. I smile widely at the detail I can now catch and get up from Isaac's bed.

Jenna lifts her chin and looks at me curiously as I approach her. Her hair is damp, probably from being in the pool in these hours. "Y-yeah... I'm coming. I was just checking something," I say, smiling slightly, looking at Jenna with intensity.

Jenna's eyes sparkle as she notices my gaze on them, and a smile spreads across her lips. She timidly assesses my state, looking at me from head to toe with inquisitive eyes.

"If only you had told me earlier..." I say with a serious tone, my voice dropping terribly. I bite my lower lip with mischief and lift my hand to place it on Jenna's cheek. "Wh-what?" Jenna asks nervously, stammering.

Jenna closes her eyes at the touch of my hand, leaning into my touch.

"What you wanted," I exclaim absentmindedly, my throat dry from nervousness. I timidly run my thumb along Jenna's jaw, brushing against her lips.

Jenna sighs loudly.

"Did you get it?" she asks curiously, raising her hand to place it on mine.

"You had it written on your shirt... took me a while, but I got it," I say playfully, and Jenna genuinely smiles, her brown eyes piercing my soul.

"How?" she asks with curiosity, intertwining her fingers with mine, guiding them down her body, stopping on her buttocks.

"You write the letter 'E' in a strange way," I say playfully, caressing Jenna timidly.

"Mmmh..." she murmurs, probably not hearing what I said. Jenna wraps her arms around my neck, playing with my hair. "You know..." I start, closing my eyes for her gentle touch.

"What?" Jenna looks at me seriously, eyes hooded with excitement.

I lean in and timidly unite my lips with hers, sighing immediately after the contact. Jenna moans into my mouth, moving her lips against mine, increasing the intensity of the kiss. My hands grip her exposed skin more tightly, making her shiver slightly.

I break the kiss and place my lips on her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh. Jenna moans even more, and I smile at the enchanting sound. With my tongue, I pass over the skin I just bit, trying to alleviate the pain, and then start running it along the line of her neck until I reach her earlobe.

"If you wanted me to fuck you, you just had to ask," I say hoarsely, squeezing her buttocks, causing her to groan. "The idea crossed my mind when I saw you passing by my house half-naked," I say sincerely.

"I thought you hadn't noticed me," Jenna says in a whisper. "No, I did... just that, not having ever talked to you, I didn't want to ruin things. After all, I only knew you by sight," I admit with a stifled laugh, feeling Jenna's fingers resting on my stomach.

"In a way, you're right," Jenna says breathlessly. "You talk too much," she murmurs with a smile on her lips, leaning in and joining our lips in a quick movement.

It seems the atmosphere has become heated in this room.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega imagine #open requests #request #reqs open

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archivomeow · 1 month

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scars of the past.

worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist

a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.

description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.

warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.

— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.

The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.

Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.

Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.

Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.

“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.

On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.

You fucking hated this job.

The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.

“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.

“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.

You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.

You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.

“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.

“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”

Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.

“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”

You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.

“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”

You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”

“How did you know so fast?”

He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?

Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.

“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.

“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.

That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.

“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.

You’re okay… You’re okay…

You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.

“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”

Fucking profilers.

“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.

#criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #angst #hurt no comfort #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #tw sh related #tw sh implied #tw sh mention #self h@rm

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laikabu · 1 month

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re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

#laios isn’t even in my top 3 fav but i gotta throw this out to the void #dungeon meshi meta #laios touden #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #kabru sexuality is easy cuz that dude is capital B Bisexual but laios has layers to it i feel

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thissying · 5 months

Note

Any max lore you wish fic writers knew about?

Hi! This turned out to be so much more and yet so much less than you probably wanted to know! If anyone feels like adding on or if you have specific questions, go ahead.

I'm not sure why you chose me for this but let me (finally) give it a go. I have to say though, that it's been ages since I've read fic (time issues and I've had my own one on my mind and I've deluded myself into thinking I will actually write it and I can't read fic because then I will lose the tiny bit of confidence and incentive I may have) so I'm not sure I know Max lore that is commonly missing from fic or that writers don't know about and should. So I'll just throw some things out there.

There are simple facts - favourite food, favourite music etc. - that can be found in most interviews (this one is 3 years old but covers that quite a bit). There's more in-depth Max lore in Whatever It Takes and Anatomy of a Champion (I don't know if you can find that subtitled anywhere though).

This is not so much lore but for young/early Max characterisation, I think if you're Dutch and you've managed to catch his early Peptalk interviews, it's obvious he's been outspoken but also has had a great sense of humour since very early on.

I don't know if it's interesting for writers but because sometimes people write Max as if he'd been a friendless loner until he met Daniel (or still is except for Daniel): he's been best friends with Stan Pex his entire life, the boy who he saw driving a kart when he was 4 years old which made him go: I want that, too. And then Jos and Stan's dad started working together and had 3 Pex kids and Max in their kart team. One of them, Jorrit, is now married to Max's aunt (Sophie's sister).

The one I found pretty shocking for a kid was that he was 11 years old when he saw a 19 year old fellow karter (Thomas Knopper) have an accident and pass away on the track.

On a brighter note. In the 'oh really, Max?' category. In the end of August 2017 episode of Peptalk, he was asked about hanging out with other drivers and Daniel in particular and he said that no, they don't hang out. He prefers hanging out with his oldest best friends. He sees him enough at the track already, you know? And then there's this picture from a few weeks before.

Max and Martin Garrix lore. In 2014 Max won the Young Talent Award that was supposed to be presented to him by Martijn but Max was in a taxi in England at the time and the live-feed kept disconnecting. They were in touch a bit after that and then they spontaneously ran into each other one time while on holiday at Ibiza and they hit it off right away ("he's also fairly normal, like me, no crazy stuff or situations.") - Formule1, 2023/2024 issue

And not just Max-specific lore but my pet peeve very important for all F1 fic writers to know: the FIA does doping testing, also during winter-break.

#f1 anon #max verstappen

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youthnighttarot · 1 year

Text

Baddie Check (Good qualities about you)🫦💋💄💅🏾

Tarot Reading

Pile 1

Pile 2 Pile 3

🔮 Welcome to my tumblr!! I’m 🔮youthnighttarot🤗

Things to know

💜This is for entertainment purposes only and, not to be taken seriously

💜Take what resonates leave the rest

💜All feedback is welcomed as longs as it’s respectful

✨Take a breath before you choose your pile

Pile 1

Tarot cards pulled: 10oS, 8oP (rv), 10oW

Oracle cards: Edward VIII (story may resonate with you watch a documentary) Lover card

First things first when I was shuffling I was supposed to say clear the energy ended up saying clear the check. So maybe you be clearing this check pile 1 because you a baddie that’s about their money!! Ok I’m not sure if you know this yet but you are a sex fiend….not like in the addiction sense just the energy that you give off. It’s like that girl/boy could rock my world. You’re also really goofy like you be playin LMFAOAOAOA frfr.

You may have been betrayed in the past or backstabbed by someone who you worked with. They weren’t putting in any work and, you had to constantly take the brunt/bulk of the work. This could have overwhelmed you and even strained your creativity but you came out on top. With the 10oS this woman has knives all in her back but she’s focused on her phone. You may not be as nonchalant but, you don’t give basic bottom barrel hoes energy and time they don’t deserve.

You’ve been through dark times and felt overwhelmed by creative project or just in general. You may have lacked motivation within your career or in regards to money/stability. People see this and view you as resilient and strong. You are that girl/guy because you never let this betrayal or malicious gossip make you skip a beat. You can carry a lot but that doesn’t mean that you should have to, though this is part of your hood qualities. It can easily become a bad habit if you let it get out of hand. You may have an online social media business and you are thriving but need time to rest. This is also what makes you a baddie you will work your ass off and rest just as hard. (Yesssss pile 1 can you help me out with that)

Extra

💅🏾A king is nothing without the woman he loves

💅🏾Make your own kingdom and choose your own family….I feel you go by this mantra 🕉️

💅🏾Your very luxurious

💅🏾You’re a good lover because you don’t rely on lies or rose colored glasses, trying to be the next Edward and Bella like it’s a movie. You take it seriously and are logical/reall about what a relationship entails

Pile 2

Tarot cards pulled: 7oC (rv), Judgement, the hanged man (rv)

Oracle cards: Gala Dalí, one eye open one eye closed

One of your good qualities great I should even say, is that everything good that comes in your life comes in 2s, 3s, or 4s. You have a lot of abundance surrounding yourself. Something regarding the eye of Horus is significant here. Ok some of the good qualities about you pile 2 is that you have a kind nature but you also know how to cut through bullshit. You are not one of those people floating through life and allowing things to happen to you versus for you.

You are quite a decisive person especially in matters relating to heart and emotions. You may be disconnected from certain religious ideals and people can view you as a hedonist. (Chile🙄) simply because you don’t always comply but little do they know spirit is divinely protecting you. You’re not emotionally unbalanced you feel how you feel no matter how hard someone tries to sway you.

You may not be spiritually bound to any particular religion and this scares people.

You could be a witch/high priestess for some of you. You’re just you and you don’t try to be anyone else but you. (Purr 🐈) So people could celebrate you or even look up to you many ones. (Archangel Micheal, Raphael, and Azriel are looking after you have a lot of power on your spirit team) (Yemaya and Oya for some of my Yoruba gyals) (Nana Asee for my Akan gyals shout out) (Aphrodite and Cupid?) (Freya and Odin) You have uncertainties sometimes but you’re emotions never cloud your judgment. You understand what it means to be in tune as you should!! You may have been spiritually inclined always but repressed for others peace of minds.

Extra

💅🏾 It is by being in the shadow that one emits the most light…you truly believe this and this way of thinking has greatly benefited you

💅🏾You used to constantly be looking over your shoulder or you just didn’t trust easily

💅🏾You no longer jump the gun, or assume you know someone’s nature until you see it in its truest form

Pile 3

Tarot cards pulled: 9oW, The Magician (rv), The hermit (rv)

Oracle cards: Marilyn Monroe, Magic is being used (rv)

So you know when to take time out for yourself first of all pile 3. You can sense when someone is trying to manipulate or play the con-game with you. You also know how to get people to do exactly what you want but, you don’t maliciously take advantage of people rather suggest. You take time to yourself in order to pondering your actions or how other people actions led up to your actions. So you may avoid it happening again at all cost. You are a dreamer. Again I’m getting your not afraid to reflect on your wrong doings…you take accountability.

You’re a person who knows when to shut social media off. You have no aspirations to chance fame/notoriety it just happens for you. You’re not caught up in trying to be a baddie you just simply want to be you. That is as all nothing less. Some of you could have some sort of connection to gypsies or Eastern European culture?

You believe in divinity and equality, you dress nicely as well. You know how to stand up for yourself by saying no…you are not afraid of sitting with yourself or your thoughts. You’ve traveled (physically or mentally) long and far in order to get to this point in your life. You have the emotions, the career skills, and the mindset to wether any storm. You are not deceptive but can sense deceptions easily.

Extra

💅🏾Never pick stability over a good time…at first I was like 🤔but what I got is that you don’t just choose something because it will bring you finances or wealth you choose to do something or be with someone because it makes you happy

💅🏾You don’t use spells and magic on people to get them to like you they just do

💅🏾Whatever story that people have in mind for you, you say to hell with and continue to be yourself

Call me beep me if you wanna reach me🔮📱

💟 @youthnighttarot ~ tumblr

Email~ [email protected]

💟 youthnighttarot1111 ~ PATREON EXCLUSIVES

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

Note

Hi! Congratulations on your milestone 😊

I would really like to see something with Spencer x Reader and Blinding Lights by The Weeknd! ❤️

Hello my love! I’ve wanted to write a fic based on this song for so long! Set in place of 3.16 Elephant’s Memory.

Send me a song lyric from my list to celebrate my follower milestone 🎵

Blinding Lights

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer is ten months sober and struggling to ward off his cravings. When a case takes the team to his hometown, he knows there’s only one face that can keep him from falling off the wagon.

CW - heavy angst, hopeful ending, past drug use, thoughts of relapse, Spencer is just really sad, brief mention of a bad past relationship, tears.

WC - 3.8k

The golden medallion watched him thoughtfully from the dresser, the way any inanimate object could. He could feel the judgement rolling of it in waves, hearing its sickly sweet commentary as he stared unblinking at the opposite wall.

You’re not strong enough, it goaded him. You can’t do this alone. Relapse is inevitable.

Of course he knew a piece of metal couldn’t think, couldn’t chastise him, didn’t have its own voice to vocalise these vicious words. It wasn’t sentient. It was a coin, a simple gold chip. And anyway, the taunting voice following him around like a rain cloud sounded too much like his own for it to be anything other than his own intrusive thoughts.

His cell phone was next to him, tucked against his stomach as he lay in the foetal position atop the scratchy hotel bed sheet.

Since having to cut his meeting at Beltway short and joining the team for the case less than twelve hours ago, he’d tried calling the same number fifty two times.

Fifty two times he’d called and fifty two times he’d gotten the same monotonous voice in response.

The number you dialled has been disconnected.

Yet it didn’t stop him from calling the same number over and over until his thumb was numb and the beeping continued to sound in his ears long after he’d hung up.

It was said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Did he really think that after fifty two phone calls the line would become magically reconnected just because he was so persistent?

He wasn’t surprised exactly, but he was disappointed. It had been more years than he could count since he’d last tried to call that number.

No, that wasn’t true, Spencer knew exactly how many years it had been, he knew how many minutes it had been since he last heard your voice.

Five years, two months, sixteen days.

He’d been standing in your doorway bidding you his final goodbye before he flew to Virginia to start work at the BAU. You’d said you’d stay in touch and you had. For a time at least. And then life simply got in the way.

But today of all days when he was, as the literature put it, craving, for the first time in ten months of sobriety he needed to hear your voice. He needed to hear your dulcet tones on the other end of his phone telling him it would be alright.

And to make even more signs point towards you, the case had taken them to his hometown of Las Vegas.

He didn’t know for a fact that you still lived here but there was something in his gut that told him you were close by. He could feel your aura, sense you were within his grasp but just out of reach.

Without so much as blinking, he blindly reached for the dresser next to the bed and felt around until his fingers brushed over that taunting gold medallion.

He tucked it into his palm, squeezing so tightly it would surely leave indentations in his hand. It was meant to be a token to aid him, to keep him focused for the next two months when he got his own.

But it was simply serving as a reminder of his addiction and how much he would give to get high right now.

The dilaudid didn’t just allow for his escape from reality but it also offered him a reprieve from his perpetual loneliness. Spencer had been on his own for so long, fighting battles solo against demons who always seemed to win as of late.

Sin City had never felt as cold and lonely as it did right now.

Still clutching the chip in one hand he used his other to pick up his phone. He pulled up his call history whilst moving as little as humanly possible.

But this time he didn’t call your disconnected line.

He put the device on speaker and held it in his hand, finally closing his sore and tired eyes as he listened to it ring.

He counted four dial tones until his call was answered.

“Boy wonder?” Garcia’s tone didn’t hide her confusion. “It’s late, I thought you’d all called it a night?”

“It’s not about the case.” He barely recognised the sound coming out of his lips and judging by the long pause down the line, Penelope didn’t either.

“Ok. What’s up?” She sounded concerned, it was nothing new.

Since the team discovered his addiction it was the same tone they’d all used on him. It was growing tiresome.

“Can you find someone for me? Like if I gave you a name could you find out where they live?”

Another stretch of silence met his ears but he knew Garcia was still there. He exhaled through his nose and forced his exhausted limbs to straighten out, hearing the clicking of joints that shouldn’t be as worn down at his age.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, holding in a groan deep in his lungs as he got himself into a sitting position.

The medallion was still pressuring aggressively into his palm.

“You know I can, Reid.” Garcia finally spoke. “But you’ve got to tell me what this is about. If I’m going to help you, you have to be honest with me.”

The truth was that Spencer felt like he was drowning. During daylight hours he was just about capable of keeping his head above water but in the night was when he started slipping beneath the surface.

The whole team was worried about him, hadn’t stopped worrying about him relapsing, worrying about his monsters out running him.

If Garcia wouldn’t give him the information he needed, it was likely ten months was where his sobriety ended.

“I need to see an old…friend.” Now was not the time to be going into detail. “It’s important.”

It wasn’t as though he deliberately kept you a secret from his team, he just never felt like talking about it. If he talked about you then all the pain would come flooding back to him, the waves of heartbreak likely to wash him away to sea for good.

But still, in the midst of undoubtedly the worst time of his life, you were the only person that had a hope of making it better. You’d been there holding his hand when he’d made the decision to have his mother committed, you’d been his rock in that horrible time of his life.

He knew when he was like this, you were the only one he trusted enough. You were the only person who had ever seen him, all of him, both metaphorically and physically.

“Reid,” Garcia sighed as she spoke his name and he knew exactly what words would leave her mouth next before she vocalised them. “Are you ok?”

Are you ok?

Such a flippant and vague question, but one in which he’d been asked more times than he cared to count over the past year.

And it wasn’t just the question, it was the tone that went along with it. The pity veiled in a cloak of concern, the kind of concern you only had for a person on the brink.

“No.” He confessed, loosening his grip on the chip maybe in the same way he was steadily loosening his grip on reality. “But that’s why I need you to do this for me.”

The desperation, the agony of his fractured mental state must have come through in his voice because it was only a second or two before Garcia replied.

“Ok.” She agreed and he heard the distinctive clicking of keys down the phone line. “Give me a name.”

***

It failed to register with Spencer that it was gone midnight when he emerged like a shadow from his hotel room, creeping down the corridors as if he were nothing more than an apparition. Limbs moved of their own accord with the address Garcia had given him burnt into his memory.

He found himself behind the wheel of one of the hired SUV’s, foot hugging the gas pedal as he sped in the direction of your home. The gold medallion sat on the dashboard almost like a reminder that this wasn’t a venture to buy drugs.

As much as he wished it was.

He knew the roads in Vegas like the back of his hand and he traversed them on autopilot. One road blurred into another, his focus waning.

All he could really make out through his tired and heavy eyes was the assault of light around every turn, seemingly getting brighter with each new street he drove down.

It soon became blinding, piercing his retinas as somehow he continued to drive, but all he could see was light. It all felt like some kind of fever dream, the haze that shrouded his brain was so familiar somehow.

It was almost as if he was high. But that wasn’t possible, was it? He’d remember if he’d used, wouldn’t he?

No, he couldn’t be high, he was simply fatigued. He was exhausted from work, drained from the constant internal battle he was fighting over his abstinence.

He just needed to see your face, to rid his vision of these damn lights that seemed determined to impede his vision.

He never could see clearly since you’d been gone.

Somehow he ended up parking the SUV on a quiet and sleepy road and then once again, his limbs moving without his brain telling them to do so, he was climbing out of the vehicle, up the front steps of a building, and knocking on the door.

He didn’t know what he planned on saying when, or if you opened the door. He hadn’t exactly stopped to think this through, if he had done there was no way he would have just shown up at your door after five years. He had more sense than that. At least he usually did.

All he knew was that if he didn’t see your face he had absolutely no doubt he would relapse. It was an incredible amount of pressure to put on one person, his sobriety rested on your shoulders and you were none the wiser.

He rubbed his palm aggressively against his left eye socket while he waited, still someone seeing those blinding lights long after they’d disappeared.

Time had ceased to be relevant to Spencer long ago and so he had no idea how long it was he was standing in your stoop, rubbing his eye as if to somehow erase any trace of light still poisoning his retinas.

But eventually the door creaked open, slowly, cautiously; it was the middle of the night and of course you would be sceptical about someone knocking on your door.

He dropped his hand back to his side as you appeared from behind the door, your hands clutching the wood, ready to slam it closed again if you perceived a threat.

Your brow was furrowed and you were rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. But a fraction of a second later he saw the realisation flood your features, the recognition of the man on the other side of your door in the middle of the night.

Your frown faded at the same time your eyes widened in an animated fashion. Your jaw fell, leaving your mouth agape while you sucked in a thick breath. The hands that had been clutching the doorframe fell to your sides and you simply stared at him unblinking.

“Uh, hi Y/N.” He offered you a meek shrug which told you without the use of his words that he had no idea why he was here.

He stuffed his hands inside of his pockets and brushed his fingertips across the chip in an attempt to keep him grounded but it failed.

You remained silent, taking him in. He’d aged, of course he had, so had you. But in your mind he was still the twenty-one year old saying his goodbyes as he left you forever in pursuit of his own dreams, in the process destroying your own.

But it wasn’t just the fact he’d aged, he almost seemed like a completely different person from the one you remembered; a ghost of his former self.

The dark circles he always wore under his eyes were blacker than you recalled, a stark contrast again his sallow, alabaster skin. His eyes always held so much emotion, like his heart lived through his pupils but right now they were vacant, staring through you rather than at you.

His lips were cracked and split from profuse chewing, something you knew he only did when he was nervous or upset. His shoulders drooped, his neck retreated inside his sweater as though he just wanted to disappear inside it all together.

You took a few breaths, trying to hurriedly reconcile all the emotions running rampant within you so you could move past them and focus on this broken man on your doorstep.

“Spencer,” you swallowed as you spoke. “What are you…why are you…?”

“I’ve been trying to call. I’ve been…” his voice was trembling and trailed off to try and correct it, whilst also trying to clutch at the right words. “I’ve been on my own for long enough.”

The last part of his sentence was whispered, so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him.

He hung his head, looking down at his feet as he didn’t want to see your reaction to his pathetic words. He grasped the medallion tightly, it still didn’t help him to feel rooted.

But then he felt your delicate fingers brushing against the underside of his jaw, gently guiding his face back up until your eyes met. Even when they did, you kept your hand on him and your simple touch was everything he needed to feel tethered again.

It was as if you realised this too, as your lip started curling into a soft smile and when you removed your hand from under his chin you were quick to place it instead on his wrist.

“You wanna come in?” You tapped his arm, causing him to dislodge his hand from his pocket.

He nodded a little too frantically, sending his messy curls bouncing into his eyes. But he didn’t seem to care.

With his hand free out of his pocket he hurriedly caught your own hand and the grip in which he held you showed off his desperation.

You offered him another smile before leading him inside by his hand. And somehow just thanks to your touch, he felt whole once more.

***

You made some chamomile tea while Spencer sat on your couch, eyes scouring the room, taking in every inch of your life. He committed everything to memory, drew a map of your home on his heart.

By the time you returned Spencer had made himself comfortable, his converse tucked neatly next to the couch and he sat with legs criss crossed, a big plush sofa cushion resting in his lap. He was toying with something shiny between his fingers but he quickly pocketed it when he saw you coming back.

You handed Spencer one of the mugs which he took with a small, tight lipped smile of thanks. You sat down on the other end of the couch, leaving ample space between the two of you.

Spencer took a sip and if he noticed it was scalding hot it didn’t even seem to register with him. He cradled the mug in his hands and sighed.

“I don’t know.” He croaked, barely able to maintain eye contact with you for more than half a second.

“You don’t know what?” You replied, giving him a slightly curious look.

“You want to know why I’m here. You were inevitably going to ask. And the answer is: I don’t know.” He sipped more of the tea.

“Ok.” There was no point in following that up, no use reminding him of how many years it had been because he knew that better than you did.

“I tried to call.” He said for the second time. “A lot.”

“I had to change my number a while back. I had some issues with an ex-boyfriend. He got…obsessed after the break up. It’s ok now though.” You shrugged.

Spencer noticeably winced, hating himself for not being able to be there for you during that time. It also had a little to do with the idea of you being with someone who wasn’t him.

He’d asked you to go with him. When he moved to Virginia, he’d asked you to go with him. But you had a life in Vegas, you had dreams of your own that you weren’t willing to give up in order to chase his.

And along the way you’d met someone else, of course you had. Just because he hadn’t even so much as looked at another person in the last five years, it didn’t mean you had to do the same.

But secretly, he’d wished you had.

He sipped his tea, his heart constricting inside of his chest at the thought of you with another man. You were each other's firsts; you were Spencer’s only.

When he didn’t speak again you put your mug down on the coffee table and scooted a little closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of you.

Spencer hadn’t been able to see clearly since you’d been gone, but now as he looked at you it was like a thick fog had lifted from in front of his eyes.

“Spence?” You brought him back to the present, eyes blinking at you several times. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

He copied you and put his own mug next to yours on the coffee table before lacing his hands together on the cushion in his lap.

“I’ve been…unwell.” He mused, remembering the terminology Ethan had used to describe his addiction. “I mean, I was unwell but I got better. And recently I guess I’ve been feeling…sick again.”

You tentatively reached out and placed your hand on top of his and he felt so instantly relaxed at the feeling of your skin on his.

“And you came here because…”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I just knew if I didn’t see you I would have done something stupid tonight. I…I’ve missed you.”

Of course he’d known he missed you before this moment, but Spencer had long ago compartmentalised those emotions. He tried not to dwell on them because if he did he probably wouldn’t make it out of bed most mornings.

Your absence had left a hole in his life. He’d tried filling it with work, and for the most part it had been effective.

But being beaten to death and back again in Hankel’s cabin, all those emotions managed to break free of the cage in which he’d held them captive.

Dilaudid helped mute them, helped him escape from the loneliness he’d harboured for five years. Being sober again, he’d been forced to feel everything.

You briefly squeezed his hands before softening your grip, unaware of just how much your touch was soothing him.

“It’s been so long, Spencer.” You breathed out, thumb caressing his knuckles. “I missed you so much and now you’re here…” Now you’re here I never want to be apart from you again.

“I know.” He nodded, knowing what you weren’t saying. “Me too.”

A quiet understanding passed between the two of you while you unlaced his hands so you could entwine your fingers with his.

All the pent up emotions clung to the walls of the room like stale cigarette smoke. Everything that had ever been left unsaid between the two of you being spoken without the use of words.

You sat like this for some time until, still keeping your hands interlaced, you stood up, tugging Spencer to do the same.

He let you lead him by the hand towards your bedroom where you let go of him so you could lie down on top of the made bed. He took a few seconds of contemplation before an encouraging smile from you convinced him to do the same.

You laid on your backs but your hand soon found his again and he held on so tightly as if afraid you might float away.

His other hand slipped inside of his pocket and he pulled out the medallion which he cupped inside of his palm.

With you there by his side, holding his hand, the chip was much less taunting of him than it had been earlier in the night.

It was never supposed to be an omen, but a talisman, and now he was seeing it for what it really was.

He had two months until he would receive his own, and laying next to you in your bed he finally believed he could achieve that.

He rolled his head to the side on the pillow and you did the same, a soft smile cloying to your lips.

“What…what happens tomorrow?” He couldn’t help but ask, always in need of answers to questions that didn’t always need asking.

You gently squeezed his hand as a small exhale left your parted lips.

“Let’s worry about that in the morning, ok?”

“I wish I could.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. I don’t know if I can just leave again this time.”

“Spence,” you shuffled a little closer to him. “We’ll figure it out, ok? But if you think for a second I’m just going to be able to let you walk away again, well for a genius, that’s just dumb.”

Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips as his heart soared at your words. He brushed his fingers over yours whilst doing the same to his chip.

He exhaled a slightly shaky breath whilst turning completely onto his side and opening his palm so you could see the coin.

“It’s not mine.” He was quick to say. “I still have two more months to make my year.”

He didn’t need to say more than that. You mirrored his position and took the medallion from his open palm.

He wanted you to have all the facts, to have total transparency between you so you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. But he underestimated just how much you still knew him.

“I figured.” You whispered. “You’ll get there. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you.”

Once again his heart soared, his whole body feeling lighter than air. Tears he didn’t know had sprung to his eyes, started rolling down his cheeks but yet, he was smiling.

“I’d like that very much.” He nodded against the pillow.

You fell into silence after that and soon Spencer’s tired eyes started to flutter closed.

You’d been the one to show him how to love and along the way he’d forgotten. But now he was starting to remember it all. He’d been on his own for long enough and maybe, just maybe, you could show him how to love all over again.

Being In your presence, the voices in his head were silenced, the lights weren’t quite so blinding. And with your touch, he could finally sleep.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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graveyardcuddles · 4 months

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There's this post I saw on here about how if the player turns Shadowheart over to the Sharans, the rest of the party should all turn on you. I completely agree, and I think they should also mutiny against Tav/Durge if they tell Orin to just go ahead and kill the party member she takes hostage. Act 3 feels like the act where everyone in the group should care about each other the most and yet it's the act where they arguably feel most disconnected from one another. And this is all probably a symptom of the overall lack of reactions and responses to major events in Act 3 from the companions in general.

But another similar example that drives me insane is how, if you ascend Astarion and then immediately turn on him and side with the Gur, ALL of the companions will just be like "Nice work taking out the trash, team. Job well done. Another vampire lord vanquished, " without so much as a hint of emotion after you betray him, gang up on him and KILL HIM?? As if they hadn't spent weeks and possibly months traveling with Astarion, getting to know him, bonding with him, ect. As if they hadn't just all stood there and let him complete the ritual. But the moment Paladin Karen and the Gur show up, they just abandon all that over what? Some vague ideal of "evil is evil black and white no nuace" nonsense? (which is even more ridiculous if some of the other companions are evil like DJ Shadowheart or Minthara).

The only companion with a reasonable reaction is Halsin, who correctly points out you should have tried harder to stop the ascension rather than betray Astarion and kill him after it happened. I understand that not all of the companions have the best relationship with him. And I understand all of them very much disapprove of him ascending. So I don't expect the whole party to mutiny over this particular decision. But the fact that they ALL uniformly turn on him so quickly for these people they don't even know is disappointing. There should have realistically been some pushback/objections. Or at least some guilt and sadness and reflection over the fact that they all just had to kill their former traveling companion/friend that THEY allowed to become this threat they felt warranted putting down.

It feels like it should be an incredibly tragic and cathartic moment, and it just falls spectacularly flat. I tried to rationalize their reactions as just part of the shitty lack of responses the companions all generally have in Act 3. But at least with Shadowheart and the hostage situation with Orin the companions will still be ANGRY at you and express their disaproval. Whereas here it really comes off like they just don't give a shit about Astarion and never really did. It's depressing.

I feel like it unintentionally and very sadly lends validation to the idea that what Astarion says about no one else being like Tav/Durge. No one else will look out for him. No one else will have that same kindness for him. No one has a heart like them. I don't actually agree with this notion. I think based on the good epilogue for his spawn ending he's definitely capable of making friends and genuine human connections. But Tav/Durge HAS to come first. They have to be the example that shows him how.

Also why I can't stop repeatedly romancing him. Astarion needs Tav/Durge arguably more than any other companion. He has nothing and no one else.

#also don't come for me for calling the gur lady a karen lmao #i understand the gur have every right to be angry i just don't like her okay?#she's a monday morning quarterback #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #astarion #baulders gate 3 #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin

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rocketbirdie · 18 days

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Arrrghh. People are finishing up Rebirth and looking up the different localizations, and the inevitable wave of hate for the English version is starting to gain traction again just like with Remake. I guess I just get super defensive about it because I have worked on large translation projects before, and it's not as straightforward as players seem to think.

It's not like the good ol' days of "This Guy Are Sick." They don't write the JPN script first, and then just send it out for translation anymore. Nowadays the different language scripts are all written simultaneously, with the teams working back and forth together, to check over each ofher's work and make sure that no one sentence is under- or overshooting a goal. Like it or not— everything is checked over and approved.

There's a lot more being translated than just words. There's so much to take into account— tone of voice, the cultural context, the lip sync and corresponding length of each line (which isn't allowed to run over by more than 0.2 seconds which is CRAZY). It's a messy process and it's a lot of goddamn work.

And then there's the audience, too. Different languages' audiences are often going to have wildly different interpretations of a character. A really good example from FFVII would be Yuffie. In the JPN version of the OG, Yuffie is written to be a confident girl who's dead serious about her ninja training. The ENG translation didn't do that justice... she instead comes off as a silly annoying kid pretending to be a ninja. Remake's DLC was testing the waters to see if they could write Yuffie in a way that's still faithful to both of the strikingly different regional perceptions of her character. And they nailed it.

The same thing happened with Cloud, and continues to influence the way he's written in the Re-trilogy. It's much more subtle than with Yuffie, but it's still noticeable, and I think it's why a lot of people get up in arms about his dialogue.

Cloud has always been written as having a stark disconnect between his tone of voice and his choice of words. It's just that the two major languages get it swapped! JPN Cloud has a harsh, mean tone, but his choice of words is polite and easygoing. On the other hand, ENG Cloud says a LOT of nasty shit out loud, but his true feelings are betrayed by his soft voice and gentle body language.

The difference goes unnoticed by the average player who isn't so invested to give a damn. But if you're actively searching for "bad translations" to get mad at, then you'll find them where one version's Cloud comes off a bit too strong. It's only natural that English Cloud is the one that pisses people off more often— after all, he's literally saying stupid shit to to piss other characters off constantly. His character is so convincing that players want to reach into their screens and wring his neck, and I think that's glorious.

But that's why it upsets me to see people turn that frustration at the localization teams. They didn't "ruin" a character's dialogue— they were just barely able to make something work, all things considered. Character, line length, culture, story context, facial animations, voice acting, for MULTIPLE languages, like... holy shit. It's a miracle that most of it is really really good, and that the bad is only a little bit bad.

Idk where this rant is going. Just... c'mon people. Have some respect for such an insanely complicated art form.

#look dude. some of the shit cloud says in ENG is awful yes. THAT'S THE POINT THAT'S THE POINT THAT'S THE POINT #it's supposed to be jarring!! it's supposed to make you want to fucking bite his fingers off!!!!!!#it's his shitty asshole coping mechanism and it's The Point Of Everything #the ENG and JPN versions may be different but The Point gets across nonetheless. and that is GOOD.#ugghhh ok just get this outta my system. seeya lol have yourselves a wonderful me gongaga monday tuesday #ffvii

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ghouljams · 4 months

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Look im down for wild hormones fuckery but also the way I always looked at omegas has been less "oh uwu soft fluffy baby" and "the scariest thing in the world is a parent looking for their kid". Omegas absolutely fucking shit up because That's *their* home, that's *their* people- just baked in "I'm the last line of defense between myself and my everything in danger so if you are a Problem you will Stop Being The Problem Or Else."

So yes. Grabby hands. Shoving this in my mouth and scurrying away

Yeah I've always seen omegas as the ones that wouldn't start a fight but would finish one. There's a reason they're the emotional head of a pack, and it's because they're the ones trying to make sure everything is working the way they need it to. I always think of Omegas as weird little freaks. They're blunt and needling because they need to have open lines of emotional communication or they start getting itchy. They bite the hand that tries to feed them because they don't know the hand. They're territorial (more so than alphas), they're stubborn(more so than betas), and they're getting things done their way or not at all.

The post I linked in my other a/b/o post talks about Omegas being active rather than reactive, and I don't know whether I entirely agree, but I think omegas are expected to know what they want and how to vocalize that want. I see Alphas as hard, line in the sand, decision makers. They're quick and decisive, but they're also going to be emotional. Omegas need to be able to say what is in the pack's best interest and be certain about it.

Ghost fits my view of omegas very well, he's in tune with the minutia of his team, he's a solid leader acting over reacting, he's territorial and stubborn, he needs things done his way. But I also think his fluctuating hormones would be (in large part) the reason why he finds himself feeling disconnected from pack dynamics. He never knows where he stands or how long he'll stand there. While he's an omega everything is good, it feels natural (as much as he hates to admit it) and he knows that the 141 needs an omega. When his hormones slide to alpha... all his anxiety gets kicked up to 11. Suddenly he's more worried about getting people out of situations than keeping a handle on the situation, he's more worried about Soap's injury than the fact that they secured the objective, he's overbearing with Gaz, he's pushing against Price's careful order of things. It's a level of control that doesn't fit him right, as understanding as the 141 is of this, it's hard.

I think it's also just interesting with the way stereotypes would work in the military as well. Everyone assumes alphas are drawn to the military, that desire to protect, to act as peace keeper in a pack, makes for a good soldier. Ghost is big and impossible to ignore, people assume he's an alpha if a really poorly adjusted one. I like Ghost as an omega because I don't think it takes anything away from his character, I think it actually adds a layer to his self imposed isolation. He wouldn't even have his endotype listed on documents if he doesn't have his photo. That way the next time he slides he doesn't have to update his records.

#ghoul speaks #not to be like Price would take care of his heats but....#he would be the one to call #Anyway I think it's a very lonely existence trying to play the part of alpha #and knowing that he could flip at any time #but also knowing in his heart that he would stay an omega if he could #a/b/o #simon ghost riley

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z0mbiefrank · 1 year

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Transcript for Marina Toybina on the Designing Hollywood podcast

I've seen a couple people searching for a transcript of her discussing Gerard Way's stage costumes, so I have made one! Feel free to share/link as a resource. Popular quotes are bolded.

Link to source video. MCR's section starts around 22 minutes in.

The transcript is beneath the cut.

Interviewer: Well now you’ve just finished working with My Chemical Romance, which is a band that I dig. Gerard Way is also a comic book writer and artist, created the Umbrella Academy. So, first of all, how did you get that job? Because there’s a design, I mean the look of that band and what they like to do, what they’re influenced by, they’re not just your typical rock band. So what was it like? How did you get that job? You designed the whole tour right?

Marina: I Collaborated with the lead singer, yes, with Gerard. Uhm, okay everything kinda has it’s place in time. About 15 years ago, 15 to 20 years ago, I was a huge fan. I’m a rock girl at heart, and back then a lot of their music was like music to my soul. It got me through some of the harder times. A lot of my friends were musicians. I never saw them live, never could afford to get to their shows, but knew one day in my heart there probably will be an opportunity, they were in like my top 5 favorite bands. He was an artist I’ve always wanted to work with. This past summer, while I was designing So You Think You Can Dance, I just happened to turn on their music - nope- let me rewind I'm so sorry. So a year ago I was reading a release that they're coming back together on tour and they're playing LA on my birthday. I looked at my team and I was like "I'm gonna be at that show. We're gonna go to the show, we're all gonna go together." And I just jokingly said “I'll probably dress them!” A lot of things in my career have happened to manifestation, I'm a huge believer in that. I think my intentions were so clear into the universe. I believed in it so much. That happened a year ago. Then this past summer, I was driving to work, I was listening to their music and I just happened to text my agent. I'm like “You know I really want to get back into music. It's what I used to do. I used to do a lot of live performances. I used to do a lot of music videos. I need to feel that again, even though I'm surrounded with music all the time and I'm doing all these shows. But there was a disconnect in my career, to where it's like I love live entertainment.” And she’s like “Who do you want? Like are we going after pop stars?” And I'm like “No I've done all that. I want to go back to my roots. I want like Incubus or My Chemical Romance or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Get me back to rock and roll.” And she was like “Well, you know, they're touring, but it's probably… I don’t know, let's put it out there.” Then within two weeks I get an email from her like “Hey their managers want to meet with you, he wants to meet with you.” One of the biggest things about their aesthetic is one of my probably top three costume designers, Colleen Atwood, did their black parade album and it was so incredible. Back then, I was always a step behind. It's like they did The Black Parade and then I met the photographer later. Then I worked on a project with him. So it was always like some better-late-than-never I guess. And I'm like “I'm gonna work with her someday, I love her work. I've been told by many people we're a lot alike.” You know? And I'm like “Why not?” And so we get this email “He would like to take a meeting, see what we can do.” I never expected to do a tour, I just wanted to open this door of opportunity, to just collaborate, maybe do one thing together. And he just showed up in my studio and it was just an amazing artistic energy.

Interviewer: Were you starstruck?

Marina: I was trying to hold it together. I mean before they came in, I can't tell you how much I paced. Usually, there's like 15 - 20 people at my studio. This was the time and day that I was alone. I didn't know what to do. Of course, my expectations were just to present myself and see if I would be a good asset to them because I love their music and I love what he's about. Also, it’s not just the frontman for me, I think he's a brilliant artist. So there's a lot of things. I just wanted our worlds to merge somehow. Within the first five minutes of our conversation, I'm like “Oh I get his brain.” I told them my story. I told him that this is like 20 years in the making. You know, I probably sound like a crazy-fan costume designer. But we share ideas, he walked me through the concepts of things he wants to do on this particular tour and they haven't started doing the US leg of the tour. I didn't know if they had a designer. Then he did mention Colleen was doing something for him and I was like “Okay, how - can this be a triangle? You know? Can I come in in the picture?” It was just a beautiful collaboration. It was a genuine artist to artist conversation. Like “Let's do something interesting.” He walked me through his concepts, his ideas and I'm like “Alright well, let me come up with some creatives, see if we're on the same page.” Again, as much as I wanted to be like “Hey we're doing this tomorrow!” I also felt like it's important now in my career and possibly in his, to make sure the relationship is good, that this is the right artistic match to one another and… it worked! From there it was just amazing fittings, amazing collaboration and some iconic things that went viral!

Interviewer: I love hearing this from you because this is like the joyous experience of 'oh my god I dreamt of working with somebody and you finally get to do it'. But I want to take you back to that because I'm curious. How would that process even begin? You're working with somebody that you already know their music, you already know his vibe. And Colleen Atwood, who I've interviewed by the way, on the show, she's incredible. Our interview had to - she was in the middle of a work day, so it was only it was a short interview. But how does a collaboration like that work with somebody like Gerard Way? How do you guys start working together? How is that process?

Marina: For us, it was just like an initial conversation. I introduced myself, my work. They already did some background checking up to see where I stand, what my aesthetic was like. And I felt I was in a place in my life, in my career, where I was able to bring something new. That's where my confidence I think came from. At the same time I didn't want to change the artist that's in front of me. I think that's always so important for me when working with music. You're dealing with a fan base, and a reputation, an aesthetic approach that's far beyond any artistic reach of anybody new coming in. So for me it was having a conversation, understanding what characters he wanted to bring forward. This was a very playful tour. This wasn't about dressing up the whole band. This was about him being in this world of iconic characters. And how can we bring this to life? What can we do that's still very recognizable to his fans but at the same time a little bit of a shock value? But at the same time, I wanted him to be him, you know? He was in this beautiful place in his life and career where he felt great and felt confident and I just wanted to uplift that. We did our creative decks, went through the conversations of which characters we wanted to go with, these are the shows that he had. I knew which city, we kind of wanted to play off where was the right time. Halloween was right around the corner, what do we do? So it was like very strategic conversations but at the same time so much room to play and be creative. So I just gathered the top 10 characters that we had discussed and kind of started doing my own thing, and keeping him and the music in mind. Had an amazing fitting. I've never worked with an artist that's so clear. It was not just directional and very precise and very distinct on his own style, but it was clear for me when we were doing fittings, this is somebody that knows his body. This is somebody who knows his aesthetic on stage. This is somebody that knows how they're going to perform. So it just made it so much easier for me to be able to fall into his world and do the fittings like “Is this going to come off? Is this piece staying on? Are we going to do options? Is the character going to evolve on stage? Is the character going to come down on stage?” So all those conversations happen in our fittings and then I just packed it all up, with distinct notes, send them off, and then kept checking in, making sure everything was okay.

Interviewer: So when you had a direction for the characters, were you doing sketches first?

Marina: No, not at all. This was something that I felt like needed to have the research. It wasn't just about designing something on paper. When he mentioned to me “I wanted to be a vintage cheerleader” I'm like “Okay, what era are we in? 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 40’s?” and then he was like “Find me something that's within possibly this color scheme.” The image that went viral when he did wear the cheer uniform, it was probably like 10 different vintage stores that we went to. And I'm like “Okay everything's size zero.” or like “What am I gonna do? This stuff doesn't exist anymore. If I get it from Etsy it's not going to come in time.” There's like so much and it happened to be as we were leaving one of the stores I looked on a sale rack and I saw this damaged, weird, vintage cheer dress that had no zipper, that had no hem. And I was like “I love this! I love this because I can reconstruct it. I can go and get the fabrics that we need to still keep it original and authentic. And that's how we start working. I build out a mannequin his size at my studio, put it on, we reshaped it, took the whole thing apart, reconstructed it to be his measurements, and still kept it authentic. After he wore it, the pattern for the actual thing was sold out. Fans loved it so much that we were getting notifications that people actually found the original pattern of this 1940s uniform and were buying it out.

Interviewer: That's crazy, okay!

Marina: Oh it's amazing! I think, to me, that's when things are just meant to be. When not only did my work translate into something beautiful on stage, but then he becomes this incredible persona on stage that then delivers the character and plays it off. We did that throughout every single look. Every single look when it became a fan favorite or craze.

Interviewer: In terms of time, what was the process when you first got the gig and then to the first show that was performing using your work? What was the time frame?

Marina: I think I had about a month to get it all together.

Interviewer: Wow! That’s not much!

Marina: Yeh and at the same time, I had another huge project in the works so it was going back and forth. But I could not tell you, I've had difficult projects in the past, I've had difficult times with artists, or finding our own language, or how to execute some things. This was so easy that time didn't matter to me. It was such a great collaboration, it flowed, like Bruce Lee would say, like water. It just made sense and no matter how difficult my other project was or what was going on at the same time, it was like oh this is the universe showing me this is how it's supposed to be. This is what's inspiring me. And at the end of the day, the one thing I told Gerard was “You made me fall in love with music again. You came into my life as an artist that I've admired and wanted to work with for almost 20 years. There was a big part of my beginning that made me look back at this now and be like “Oh that's what. That was that feeling that I had when I was 16 or 20.”

#my chemical romance #gerard way #marina toybina #mcr #my chem #designing hollywood podcast #let me know if i should change anything #ive never done a transcript before but i hope it helps!!#resource #transcript #op #interviews #costume design #cheerleader

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months

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a cure for frustration

warnings: angst. hurt / comfort. smut. 18+.

You knew from the moment you saw her hop away from the challenge that something was wrong. You felt fear squeeze your heart as you sat on the sub bench, eyes following her every movement. As play continued, Alexia stayed out of the way, walking, and flexing her knee repeatedly. Her knee. You clutched the seat beneath you, knuckles turning white. You heard Claudia say something to you, but you were too were focused on Alexia, wiling her to resume playing, running, anything to show you that she was ok.

You watched as a break in play was called, and Alexia walked over to the sidelines, trainers on her within seconds. You couldn't make out what she was saying, but she was definitely motioning to her knee. You made eye contact, and the fear in her eyes was clear. Play resumed, and she moved to walk over to the sub bench, taking a careful seat next to you, a trainer kneeling in front of her, examining her knee.

"Ale. What is it?" You tried to ask in a calm voice, but you don't think you were very successful, as her hand came to grip yours for a brief moment.

"I don't know. Her knee just drilled right into mine. It doesn't feel right, I don't think it feels right," she responded, and you could hear her voice shaking, as she avoided eye contact with you, opting instead to stare at the gloved hands probing her knee. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into your arms, tug her much taller body into yours, and hold her until the look of fear left her eyes. You couldn't. Not here. Instead, you looked to the trainer in front of her, as he withdrew his hands from her.

"It doesn't seem like anything is wrong. It was probably just a hard blow. We can do scans if you want them, but I really think it's ok" he stated, clearly trying to settle Alexia's nerves. She took a deep breath, thinking, before looking up, jaw clenched, face devoid of emotion.

"Can I go back in?"

"Alexia-" you started, but were cut off by a hand on your knee, calloused fingers squeezing gently in reassurance, and you fell silent, looking at the trainer for an answer.

"If you feel like you can, yes. We'll get scans at the half just in case" he responded, turning behind him to Jonatan, who nodded at Alexia. The midfielder rose from her seat, glancing down at you once, almost as if to reassure you that she was alright. You murmured a soft "good luck," and she was back on the pitch.

You watched, eagle eyed, as she ran across the field, clearly in some discomfort, but running nonetheless. You took a breath, refocusing yourself. You needed to be prepared to sub in, and letting your mind run in circles about your girlfriend was not going to help anyone. You focused on the game instead, not allowing your eyes to track Alexia around the pitch. You saw Esmee's goal, or Alexia's goal rather, and didn't let yourself think about how social media would tear your sweet girlfriend to pieces over her ensuring they scored. You didn't let yourself think about, or feel any of it.

The first half came to a close, and you fell in step with Alexia as she headed into the locker room. She stopped you outside the door to the medical room, and turned to look at you, expression still unreadable.

"Go to the locker room. You need to be with the team, and warm up. I'm fine. I promise" she said all of this very quietly, her green eyes looking into yours. She was still being Alexia, captain of the team, two time Balon D'or winner, not your Ale, her words monotone, expressing none of the love that normally seeped into her voice when she spoke to you. You knew this is what she needed, to stay clinical and disconnected until she knew more, that allowing herself to be anything but emotionless would be too hard. So you nodded, squeezing her arm once.

"You're right, you are fine. I'll see you after" you kept your voice just as disconnected, just as emotionless, as you saw a small smile grace her lips, before she turned, entering the room. You returned to the locker room, knowing you needed to get your head on straight.

-------

The second half passed at a torturous pace, with you subbing on around the 60th minute. You pushed Alexia out of your mind again, throwing yourself into the game, pretending you weren't dying to dash off the field to find out what the scans showed. When the final whistle blew, you shook hands with your opponents and your teammates, trying to decide how long you needed to stay on the pitch for before going to find Alexia. You were still deciding when you felt Mapi come to stand next to you. You'd already shaken hands, but she pulled you into a hug anyway, her face sympathetic.

"Go find her. I'm sure she's fine, but you won't relax until you see her, so just go. I'll cover for you," she spoke quietly into your ear, pulling away from the hug at the end, and smiling at you.

"Thank you, Mapi," was all you could get out before you were on your way into the building, waiting until you were out of sight before you broke into a sprint towards the medical room. You opened the door, heart plummeting when you found it empty. 50 different options of where Alexia might be flew through your head, each one more horrifying than the last. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath and think like a rational person, you turned, heading toward the locker room.

You walked in, and let out a relieved sigh at the sight of Alexia sitting in her locker, hair wet, looking at her phone. She looked up when she heard you arrive, you crossed the room instantly, crouching down in front of her, laying a gentle hand on her knee. You looked up at her, the question you were terrified to ask on the tip of your tongue. She brushed a piece of hair off your flushed face gently, before telling you, "It's fine. The scans were normal. I think I just freaked out."

She seemed slightly embarrassed at this, but you felt all the tension leave your body at her words, letting your forehead fall to rest on her knee. She chuckled above you, resting a hand on your back.

"What, were you worried about me or something?"

You looked up at her with a glare, not enjoying her teasing.

"Not worried for you. Just worried about how insufferable you'd be if you had to sit out again," you retorted, allowing a smile onto your face so she knew you were kidding.

She threw her head back at that, and laughed.

"You're right. It would be so unfortunate for you if I was out of commission for a while. I know how desperate you get" she quirked an eyebrow at you, an easy grin playing on her lips and you felt heat rush to your face, indescribably glad that the locker room was empty. You looked up at her, breath caught in your throat at her words, entranced by her long eyelashes, her full lips, her bright eyes. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, her phone buzzed, and her eyes flew to it, smile falling from her lips. You watched as she read the message, how her eyes hardened at whatever she was looking at.

"What-"

"Shower. Get dressed," she paused, looking down at you with a familiar glint in her eyes. "We have things to do at home." There was no mistaking her meaning, and the speed with which your concern for whatever she had read on her phone left your brain was almost embarrassing. You stood, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, and turned to your own locker, vowing to get ready to go in a record amount of time.

-------

The car ride home was a different kind of torturous. Alexia driving was a sight to see normally, but today, it really did something to you. Maybe it was the look in her eyes when she glanced over at you, or the way her hand rested high up on your thigh. Her hand placement shouldn't have made you as desperate as it had, but there you were, doing everything you could to sit still and ignore the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. You were doing too good of a job acting unaffected, apparently, because Alexia started to softly rub her thumb back and forth over your clothed thigh. You held your breath, willing yourself not to let out a sound. You eventually had to exhale, however, and it came out sharper and less controlled than you intended. Alexia looked over at you, lips curling up at the edges, before she returned her gaze to the road.

"Something wrong, amor?" She asked, and you swore she was making her voice raspier on purpose. You shook your head in response, deciding your best bet was to stay quiet until you had to speak. She laughed quietly, as she turned into the parking garage. Pulling into her spot, she threw the car in park, veins popping on her hands as she maneuvered the gearshift. She got out of the car quickly, leaving her bag behind, walking over to your door. Knowing better than to open it yourself, you waited until she pulled it open, offering a hand down to you that you took. You stepped out of the car, and she shut the door behind you, placing a possessive hand on your back. You repressed a shudder at the contact, wishing that it wasn't this easy for Alexia to get you so hot and bothered. You could feel wetness pooling in between your legs, from only a few touches and a few smirks, and you hoped that Alexia was in a mood that would appreciate it.

"Vamos, amor. We have things to do" she spoke the words centimeters from your ear, and you quickened your pace, leading the way into the elevator and up to your apartment. The minute you got inside the apartment, she was on you, lips pressing into your neck, arms wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into her. Her lips and tongue worked roughly against the sensitive skin of your neck, and you knew she was already leaving a mark. You managed to turn the groan that tried to work its way out of your lips into a heavy breath, causing her to pull her lips away from you. You felt her hot breath on your ear before she spoke.

"No no, bebé. Good girls let me hear how good I make them feel."

At this, you let out a small whimper, allowing your head to fall back against her shoulder. You felt her smile against your neck, her hands pressing back into your abdomen, making you grind back against her. You let her control your motions for a minute, before the contact became not enough, and you turned your head into her neck, knowing exactly how to get what you wanted.

"Ale. Please, baby."

"Already begging? I've barely touched you," she smirked, "tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you"

"Take me to bed, Alexia."

With that, she stepped away from you, turning you around before wrapping her arms around your waist, easily lifting you into your arms, as your legs came to wrap around her. Your lips found hers, and you sighed at the feeling, her tongue sliding into your mouth as she walked you blindly back into the bedroom. Laying you on the bed, she crawled on top of you, never letting your lips lose contact from hers. You made out messily for several minutes, your hands sliding up under her shirt, as hers held her weight above you. She shifted slightly, pressing her knee against your core, and you shuddered, lips stilling against hers. Encouraged by your reaction, she pressed harder against you, and you leaned your head back, inhaling deeply as your hips ground down against her. She pulled back, and your eyes flew open, seeing her kneeling over you, tugging at your shirt, the question unspoken. You nodded, and she pulled it up and over your head, pulling her own off as an after thought.

She leaned back down, immediately connecting her lips to your chest, leaving messy kisses as she trailed over to your nipple, taking it into her mouth and running her tongue over it. Her fingers came up to play with your other nipple, and you closed your eyes again, one hand fisting in the soft comforter, the other coming up to tangle in Alexia's freshly blonde hair. You tried to press her closer to you, and she smiled against you, switching sides to focus on your other nipple. You looked down at her then, and the sight of her staring up at you as her mouth worked against your chest made you crazy. You tugged her back up, until her mouth was level with yours, and tried to connect your lips again. She kept her face just out of reach, however, staring down at you. She was a sight to see. Pupils blown, hair falling freely around her shoulders are she gazed down at you, her eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. You let out a little whine, hoping she'd appreciate the desperation, and let you kiss her, but suddenly her weight was off your body, and you felt her hands on the waistband of your shorts. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you met her eyes where she stood at the edge of the bed, prepared to pull your shorts off.

"Si?" She questioned, looking at you with a softer expression than you'd seen on her all night. You nodded, but she made no further movements, simply raising an eyebrow at you.

"Si, Ale. Si." you responded, desperate for her to get on with it. Satisfied, she stripped your lower half. She moved to climb back on top of you, but you stopped her, sliding a finger under the waistband of her own shorts. Looking down at you, Alexia smiled, making you ask for what you clearly wanted.

"You too" you said, and she replaced your hands at her shorts and underwear, pulling them off slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. Satisfied, you leaned back onto your elbows, happy to take whatever she gave you. Still standing at the edge of the bed, she trailed a single finger down your thigh, her touch feather light, as she traced the various marks and scars along your legs.

If her goal was to make you beg, she didn't have to wait long. You'd been aching for her since she'd spoken to you in the locker room, and you'd never been one to shy away from asking for what you wanted. Especially when it seemed to bring Alexia a fair amount of pleasure to hear your words.

"Baby, please put your mouth on me," you whined. Her eyes darkened at your words, and suddenly she was laying in between your legs, her tongue running through you, and you were falling back onto the mattress. She hummed against you, enjoying the reaction she got out of you and you jerked your hips up against her. Her tongue circled your clit slowly, as her strong hands grabbed your thighs, bringing them up to rest on her shoulders. She moved her mouth down slightly lower, eyes falling shut as she let herself fall into the movements, knowing exactly what you needed from her. Her tongue collected the abundant slick that was leaking out of you, pushing into your entrance, as her nose rubbed against your clit. Your moans filled the room, as did the sounds of her mouth moving against you. You reached a hand down to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer to you.

"More. Need your fingers" you gasped out, body twitching around Alexia's head. She chuckled against you, the vibrations making you jerk up again into her. She moved your leg off one of her shoulders, and pushed your knee to bend, spreading your legs for her. Her mouth moved back up, toying with your clit again, this time her teeth grazing against it every so often. She teased your pussy with one of her fingers, before sinking it into you all at once, relishing in the unholy noise that left your mouth. She added a second finger almost instantly, pulling her mouth away to look at you. Your head was thrown back against the mattress, one hand with the comforter twisted in your fist, the other still in Alexia's hair. You looked absolutely wrecked, eyes tightly shut, your whole upper body flushed red as you gasped for breath against her movements.

She returned her mouth to you with renewed passion, the sight of you enough to make her frantic to make you come. She sucked your clit into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it insistently, as her fingers curled inside of you, hitting the spot she had memorized, sending your hips bucking up into her mouth. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and she knew you were close before you said it.

"Jesus. Fuck! I'm so close." Your words were barely understandable, broken up by whimpers and moans, as you neared your peak.

"Come for me bebé" she murmured the words against you, and you let go, waves of pleasure washing over you as you fell over the edge, hand gripping her hair tightly. You yelled out her name as you came, and she worked you through it, slowing her fingers and tongue until your body unclenched, and you fell limp against the mattress. She pulled her mouth away from you, allowing her fingers to still inside of you. Resting her head on your thigh, she looked up at you, an arm thrown over your eyes as you panted. If you had looked at her then, you would have been overwhelmed by the obvious love in her eyes, as she patiently waited for you to calm down a little more. She pulled her fingers out of you, bringing them directly up to her tongue, cleaning them off with a moan.

You looked down at her then, your own gaze meeting hers as she pulled her fingers out of her mouth with a filthy sound. Alexia crawled up the bed, pulling you to lay against your chest, and you sighed into her, relishing in the comfort only she could bring you. Her hands rubbed your back softly, but her intent was clear as the moved lower to grab at your ass. You moved your head to look up at her, chin resting on her chest, and her lips curved into a grin looking down at you.

"Más?" she asked quietly, already knowing your answer. In response, you connected your lips to hers again, pushing yourself up to straddle her hips.

------

part 2? ive never really written fanfiction before... or smut... so I genuinely don't know if this is awful or not. if you want a part 2 of this let me know :). I was originally just gonna write it all at once but i'd rather know if people want to see more or not. Planning more smut for part 2, along with the reader discussing alexia's knee with her [what is a fic without hurt comfort]. let me know if you want to see anything specific :)

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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cosmonabo · 27 days

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Synopis: In which Chifuyu reunites with the one he shattered countless school years ago, seeking redemption, but perhaps it's just too late to apologize." Pairing: Chifuyu Matsuno + Fem!Reader. Genders: Angst, Drama and Tragedy, Farce. Content Warnings: mentions of tryte of suicide, bullying and autodepressed.

Chapter One: little liar

He woke up in anguish, feeling something poke his arm like a pin. When he lifted his chin and pulled the book away from his face, he had the (un)pleasure of meeting the familiar, iconic figure. He clucked his tongue in protest. That girl had already become a pain in his ass, not to mention the fact that she didn't bother to bother him so often, it seemed like she had no idea who she was messing with.

And that made him too angry.

Was she a phony or was she just playing around?

"You again…" he hissed, annoyed.

He turned his face sideways, resting it on the school desk.

"The rep asked me to wake you up before I left," she explained, looking pleased, linking her arms to hold the box she was holding in front of her hips, "or you could get a warning."

"You've already woken me up, so get going," she hid her face under the book once more.

"We need to leave first, I'll deliver the key to the teachers' lounge," he warned.

Chifuyu took a deep breath, then got up from his chair.

"Why you don't leave me alone just one time? You are fucking boring, damn!"

He asked acidly.

"Oh, sorry," she replied genuinely, not noticing the blond's tone of voice, "I didn't think you'd feel this way, I could ask the teachers for another 10 minutes before we close the room, what do you think?"

"Fuck…" he woke up to the taste of sour memories.

This time she wasn't there to wake him up. And that left him alone with his own thoughts. He had the whole classroom to himself, and that scared him. Soon he would be swallowed up by the immensity that only accumulated in his mind.

Outside, the racing team was already putting things away, and he could see it when he stared at the window with a twinge of curiosity. But he wasn't there to keep an eye on other people's lives.

Matsuno finally got up from his chair, his body feeling heavier than usual - containing what he called 'anxiety' - and left, out of the room.

He felt he urgently needed some fresh air, blaming himself like this would only hurt him even more. After all, it was all right, he tried to apologize. If she didn't accept it, it was because it was meant to be. There was no point in blaming himself for what happened in the past. At least he could tell his inner self that he had tried and that it was enough, but he couldn't even convince himself when his altruism was severely drowned out by his wave of destructive thoughts.

Everyone makes mistakes, don't they? He thought.

Are you joking? Serious? Do you really believe that the past can be overcome with just a few words of fool afirmations? And his mind fights back.

He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, trying to wipe away the cold sweat that insisted on dripping. Try as he might, he still couldn't touch his own soul with the shallow words he spoke to himself.

He sighed loudly, trying to calm his heartbeat.

But he remembered [Name]'s broken arm as he passed in front of the infirmary, and immediately her image materialized completely in his consciousness.

He wondered if she was all right.

He shrugged, turning into the corridor. He bumped into someone as he was passing, and that made him completely disconnect from his own mind and return to the real world. What was worse, the corridor ended at the staircase, but luckily only the papers flew down the stairs, scattering completely on the cold floor to the touch.

Matsuno, who was still standing, bent down to see who he had knocked to the floor.

"Sorry, I just…" he was lost for words when he saw the girl's face.

It was as if he was reliving the worst moments of his life, live. Making the same stupid mistakes, however absent-mindedly, on automatic, they were still mistakes.

[Name] couldn't help but show her surprise, and even tensed up a little at the impact.

"I'm sorry…!" Chifuyu hurried to gather up the papers on the floor.

Without reacting, [Name] just watched as the blond walked down the stairs, quickly and dexterously putting everything together. Until he stopped in the middle of the steps, staring intently at a particular piece of paper. Too much attention for the girl's taste. And the next thing she knew, it was her medical report in the boy's hands.

She got up from the floor with the strength of a single arm, ran to the stairs and snatched the document out of his hands. He was unsettled. Somehow, Chifuyu thought he saw the look on her face become harsh, disappointed.

"Don't go around reading other people's stuff! "

"Oh, sorry… I only read the title, I swear!" he stammered.

It wasn't a lie, she read the document out of pure reflex. She hadn't imagined that among the school papers would be something so intimate and personal.

She ignored it, giving in.

"Thank you for your help…" She nodded, taking a deep breath, taking the papers from the blonde's hands without a hint of aggression this time "don't feel obliged to help me, I can look after myself, thank you. "

He silently watched her pick up the last few sheets from the floor as patiently as possible, then turned his back on her and - ironically - headed for the school infirmary.

Without much to do, he continued down the stairs. He was still puzzled and even a little worried about her arm. Or perhaps he was thinking of a way to redeem himself and see if the weight he was carrying would lessen. But he liked to imagine that he was far from it, that kind of intention would make him look like a wronged self-interest, and he hated looking like a victimizer.

He rummaged through the shoe cabinets, looking for the name of the stupidest human being on the face of the earth. Oh, and lo and behold, it was him!

As he put on his shoes, he allowed himself to relax and get away from his problems for a while, taking in the magnificent view of the landscape ahead.

The concrete that stretched to the school gates was the only thing separating the two sides from the low, gray grass, as the humidity took shape in the air and turned to frost. The sky, on the other hand, took on a much colder and drier hue, as if the whole atmosphere had entered into a soft consensus of choosing a melancholy color palette to finish fucking up Chifuyu's week.

He seriously thought that the universe might have taken his empathy and put it in the middle of that place where the sun doesn't shine. Because it wasn't possible! It was almost like having the distinct experience of living through a totally melodramatic and depressing story.

Now, where would the blessed viewers be who take pleasure in entertaining themselves with other people's misfortune? He thought. Rancorous. Deep down he just wanted someone to blame.

And that was discouraging. So, congratulations to the universe, for finishing destroying what was left of perseverance and self-esteem inside that empty shell called "Chifuyu".

Without further ado, he left the school.

Perhaps it would be good to talk to Takemichi. It wasn't as if he was going to put another plan into action, but he felt he needed to talk to someone or his head would explode like a squeezed lemon. And, frankly, Matsuno didn't want his brain to turn into lemonade.

No one would want to drink the citrus juice of a rotten lemon.

"You didn't show me your medical report," the older woman commented, as she quickly went through each sheet with attention, while the younger girl propped her body up on the stretcher, looking lost.

"I told you I'm fine," she lied, controlling the agitation of her restless eyes, with no fixed direction in which to look, "there's no need to worry. It was just a little mistake, I won't be like this for much longer."

"How many weeks have you had that cast on? "

"One month…"

"And those bruises? "

He pointed to the calloused fingers on the girl's hand, which she quickly tried to hide behind her back.

"I've just been practicing a lot."

She swallowed dryly.

"You're still playing? Even with that broken arm? "You can't do that! It's stupid and it'll hinder your recovery! "

"I haven't been taking part in the practical classes," she explained fearfully.

turning to face the nurse.

"I took part in the test, but I only watched," she explained fearfully, while the girl in the white coat just listened attentively, her arms crossed on the table, "and I've only been taking theory classes. So it's okay, I haven't broken any of the doctor's rules! "

"I'll trust you, [Name]" he soothed, seeing how elated the girl had become with just that little accusation "but I don't want to see you practicing, you know that's for your own good."

"I do… I do."

#toman x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo manji gang #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno

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