pepprs · 2 years ago
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hi update still having an absolutely terrible time
#purrs#ive had a headache for 2 days and had an anxiety attack at 5am this morning ♥️ and also there is more drama. i feel so bad about it but i#literally wish i was home and this was over so bad. im not eating well im not sleeping well. and i haven’t had a moment in which i wasn’t#stressed or anxious about this program for literal weeks and i think after 4 long days of running around taking care of people and not#having a moment to take care of myself it just caught up with me this morning and it was so terrifying and i couldn’t reach out to anyone#becaus it was 5am but i needed a hug or to go home. and the anxiety attack passed i got through it alone but im still not okay and shaken up#i couldn’t catch my breath and my heart was pounding and my head was spinning and hurt so fucking bad and i just couldn’t exist#ive gotten sporadic sleep and markya got me vegetablrs (if you read this thank you markya) and im about to eat them now but im still so#n*useous and jittery and my heart hurts. idk how long it’s going to take me to heal from this and i don’t even have time and i don’t know#why everything feels like it’s crashing down on me this week but i feel so frightened and alone and inadequate and helpless#delete later#we go home tomorrow and i know it’s going to be chaotic then too and we have a lot more facilitation to do and a meeting with the leaders#tonight and after learning so much more about why they have hard feelings towards us i just want to run away. and last night we had a#community reflection and i had to give my part to someone else bc i just couldn’t do it. lol
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kokakku · 2 years ago
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OC band: Shot dead
(Different format from my other intros bc it's five people lol. Also no read more cut because it's giving me issues)
They're based in Anaheim CA, they live together in a small house
They met as kids/young teens and consider eachother family
They're basically a polycule tbh
All are conversational in ASL (except Foxe and Aliyah who are fluent)
Their time period and even ages aren't solidly set! This is I like to put them in lots of AUs lol. But their basic facts and age differences between the group are set!
Members:
Danny #📷
Daniel Matthew George
24, Pisces, 6', cis man, bisexual demiromantic
Lead guitarist (plays ibanez GRGM21M and fender player stratocaster, both shiny black)
Extra:
Dad friend of the group, his calm and caring personality makes him the best at giving direction and solving conflicts. He's the (unofficial) leader of the group because of this
He was in a car crash at 10 that killed his (adoptive) parents and left him with lasting nerve and muscle damage in his left leg, which gives him a limp. He uses a cane sometimes but usually chooses to go without it.
He likes photography! It's his main hobby outside of music, which is why his emoji is a camera
Through Foxe, he's conversational in Japanese! He translates songs for them if they don't feel like it
Aliyah #🥁
Aliyah Marissa Kendrick
23, Gemini, 5'5", genderqueer (she/they,) pansexual
Drummer (plays yellow mapex armory 5 piece set with stickers all over it)
Extra:
Deaf/HOH, hearing loss runs in her family and started for her at about 17, playing the drums without earplugs definitely doesn't help. She has hearing aids but generally doesn't wear them as she finds them uncomfortable and has enough hearing to get by without them (in her opinion anyway)
Always changing her hair, whether it be fun wigs or colorful braids and dreads, she's always playing with color and style
She does a lot of DIY with her clothes, she likes making patches mostly!
Full of mischief and always messing around with the other members, she's very outgoing and silly
Skye #🎸
Skye Alice Tate
23, Virgo, 6'3", cis female, arospec lesbian
Bassist (plays ESP LTD F-415FM, also plays a dark red Gibson Les Paul electric guitar)
Extra:
Speaks decent Japanese and Spanish, doesn't really use either outside of talking with the other members though.
Second best guitarist in the group (don't tell Jax) but plays bass because she prefers the sound, and less attention on stage.
Generally calm and chill but absolutely will join in on shenanigans if it seems fun enough, always egging on Aliyah and Jax when they're up to something
Her mom overdosed when she was 15, leaving her alone, she spent a lot of time couch surfing until the band moved in together because she didn't care for her group home
Jax #🛹
Jackson Oliver Mendoza
21, Scorpio, 6'1", demiboy (he/they,) bisexual
Rhythm guitar (plays ibanez GRGR120EX, custom painted green)
Extra:
Half Choctaw, half Mexican. Fairly disconnected from Choctaw culture since his mom died when he was 4. Has limited connections with Mexican culture and speaks Spanish fluently, but doesn't really like being around his family
Big family! Three brothers and four sisters. his younger four siblings are half siblings through his step mom, the older three are full siblings
Silly and goofy and very outgoing, kind of a flirt but he genuinely means well. He just wants to make everyone around him happy!
Doesn't realize it, but has the early stages of schizophrenia. It's through his mothers side of the family, which is why he doesn't know :(
Foxe #🦊
Foxe Keiko Suzuki
20, Cancer, 5'8", genderfluid (they/he/she,) bisexual
Lead singer (also plays guitar. Red epiphone SG standard)
Extra:
Half Russian, half Japanese. Born in Japan and emigrated to America at 8. speaks Japanese fluently and Russian conversationally.
Raised in a weird cult until they were like 12, they don't like to talk about it
Suffered head trauma and a near drowning incident that left them with some brain damage, because of this they speak with a slur and stutter, but can still sing just fine! To "not inconvenience" anyone, they usually communicate with ASL and have another member translate. But they talk openly at home !
Bubbly and sweet personality despite everything, they love to perform and make people feel good. They love the rest of the members a lot and they show it often!
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reiderwriter · 6 months ago
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So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)
A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!
W/C: 2.1k
Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.
Masterlist
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The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 
Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 
You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 
Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 
“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.
“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 
“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”
“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 
“Do you… need a haircut?” 
“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 
You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 
“Well, are you coming in?” 
“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 
“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 
He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 
You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 
He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 
And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 
You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 
“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 
“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 
He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 
After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 
You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 
You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 
For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 
De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 
This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 
It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 
It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 
If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 
It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 
“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 
“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 
And he hadn't paid. 
It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 
But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 
Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 
You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 
“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 
He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 
“Hi.” 
“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 
“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 
“With haircuts?” 
“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 
“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 
“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 
“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 
“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 
“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 
You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 
His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 
When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 
“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 
“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 
“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 
“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 
Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 
“But what kind of haircut?” 
“What kind?” 
You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 
“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 
You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 
“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 
He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 
Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 
You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 
He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 
“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 
He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 
“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 
“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 
You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 
“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 
“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 
“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 
“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 
“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 
He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 
No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 
Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 
The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 
“Hi.” 
“Spencer! You're back.” 
He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 
“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 
You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 
“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 
The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 
“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 
“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 
“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 
“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 
“The hospital?” 
“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”
“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 
You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 
“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 
“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 
The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 
Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 
You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 
“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 
He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 
“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 
“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 
“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 
He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 
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inosukijiro · 6 months ago
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𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛
𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu is wholeheartedly in love with you.
━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. no bc i am making this man a pathetic simp for you idc. im writing these with myself in mind so yk, i have to pour out my feelings. and also i need to get all this giyuu writing off my chest, its actually a problem the fixation i have on this man but no fics tickle my brain just right so i have to write them myself
━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. btw thank you so much for all the love and support on my last two posts. literally you all are so incredibly sweet !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i just graduated college so i might have a bit more time to write but no promises!
━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. giyuu might be a little ooc. modern reader in kny. i rewrote this a few times so pls be nice 🤧. 1.4k words.
━ 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩. im just going though and adding a synopsis and fixing my titles. og title: falling for you.
Giyuu actually doesn’t know how this occurred. No, actually that was a lie. He knew how this happened, but didn’t at the same time. And honestly speaking, the man does not care at all. You were so nice and sweet to Giyuu it made his head spin. Like it makes him ill in the best way imaginable. He doesn’t understand why you want to be around him so much, why you want to be his friend – not that he minds – but he just can’t get past his own indiscretions about himself. That was until you told him to his face.
You tell him that you thought he was cute – I'm sorry? – and you liked how calm he was – really? His brain can’t compute anything that you say. He doesn’t know if you need any medical assistance or he’s just dreaming. But it makes you laugh. The cute, dumb look on his face as he stands there, gaping at you like a fish.
It wasn’t like it was new information. You did enjoy his company the most. He was very quiet and by no means were you either, but you have this habit of matching the energy of people you were with. So, it was almost relaxing and refreshing spending time with Giyuu. Though Giyuu is silent most of the time, he does in fact talk. At first it's about a mission he was on recently, if and most likely when he gets more comfortable with you, he’s talking a little more in depth about random things that are on his brain. It's endearing really. Or sometimes he’s just talking about things that he thinks you might like to know, random facts, and so on.
But sometimes you do the talking and he likes that too. You could talk for hours and he could listen to every word you have to say. He would soak it up like a sponge as you focus your eyes on the crochet hooks weaving in front of you. Your voice is quiet and nice, soft and warm sounding.
This typically happens when you visit his estate. And you visit his estate a lot. Maybe Giyuu was a little disappointed that you weren’t staying with him, but he knows that he shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds. He’s lucky enough to see you this much, as much as he's lucky to see you at all. He can’t be too mad though. Mitsuri has jumped you the first moment she got when the Master had brought up your living arrangements. You had nowhere to go. And honestly, Giyuu may have been a little relieved that Mitsuri of all people had gotten to you first.
He really wouldn’t have minded if it had been Rengoku or Gyomei. For obvious reasons, Rengoku would be happy to have him stopped by and probably Gyomei too, because it seems like they don’t have a bone to pick with him. Honestly speaking, he wouldn’t have minded Muichiro either, though the boy would have probably forgotten your existence within the day. But any of the others, the thought made his skin crawl for plenty of reasons. Maybe it was because it would have become a hassle, or he would be harassed every time he went to visit you. Yes, it does seem on par with him that might just avoid you so you don’t get verbally assaulted like he does if you were to associate with him. But he was a lonely, pathetic man who was enamored with you at first glance the minute you showed up out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that the stars had aligned so nicely for him – even if he felt he didn’t deserve it.
His only issue with the arrangement was Obanai. The man had almost butchered him on numerous occasions just for showing up to the Love estate. Even if he wasn’t there for Mitsuri, the Serpent Hashira didn’t seem to care. Maybe it was funny the first few times – it actually wasn’t – but you really couldn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. Obanai was wearing you thin with his commentary. Everytime Giyuu was around, it was like the others just couldn’t help themselves by making a comment insulting the man. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to disrespect a Hashira, especially if four of them were in the room with you, but Giyuu was here to see you, and it was almost like insulting Giyuu was an insult to you for wanting to spend time with him.
Mitsuri was okay with Giyuu coming to visit you, she actually encouraged it. So watching Mitsuri stand behind you while you gave Iguro a piece of your mind was something Giyuu didn’t know he needed to see until then. And maybe he did allow himself to feel a little selfish and smile mentally. He still remembers how Iguro had this look of disdain on his face, simultaneously looking like a scolded child and embarrassed because this was happening in front of Mitsuri.
Giyuu wondered if you caught the look that Obanai and Kaburamaru were giving you – if looks could kill and all that – but that was stupid. You most certainly did and just didn’t care enough. And Giyuu also wonders just what kind of sorcery you have, because he did hear you mention Sanemi by name at some point and now he's not bothering him as much, especially when you are around.
It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, not like he had ever done anything about it in the past. He never really had the heart to correct anyone in their assumptions of him, he never really thought he had to. Though, that mainly was because he thought he deserved such mistreatment. Regardless, it didn’t matter how he felt about it and himself. If you enjoyed his company that much to defend him, he was going to provide as much of it as you wanted. But there was something about it that made his heart swell a little bit bigger and flooded him with enough warmth that you could have mistaken it as him having a fever.
Now here the two of you were, sitting outside the Water Estate. You both had taken your places by the koi pond Giyuu has. It's so calm and cool. The soft moving of water could be heard every time the wind blew just enough, as well as the sharp sound of water splashing because some fish got too close to the surface.
Giyuu isn’t losing himself as he stares at the pond, watching the fish move around. He finds himself mesmerized though, as you talk. It’s nice, as usual. He likes how you talk and the way you talk. He could listen to you for hours and never get tired of hearing you. And he knows that if he glances at you now, even briefly, he wouldn’t be able to look away. You just look so… wonderful. It makes him dizzy. But he has such a weak will to do so, and now he's staring at you. Eyes soft and relaxed. He has never felt so content.
Giyuu doesn’t know if he realizes what kind of situation he is in. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s finally realizing just how much of an effect you have on him. He likes you. He likes you beyond anything in the world. He loves you and everything about you.
You don't notice him staring. You’re too busy weaving the crochet hook in and out of your craft. You make it look so effortless. So enjoyable. And you seem so happy crocheting away as you speak. The way you talk and do it at the same time, you're so smart. You have to be. And Giyuu can’t help but hope you don’t look up. You’re as mesmerized with your work as he is with you. He would die though, if you caught him. The thought makes him sweat almost, being so close to you like this. His hands are clammy, and he's never been this nervous.
Yeah, he definitely has it bad for you. And for the first time in a while, even despite his nerves, he found the corners of his lips curling upwards, in a soft and timid smile. He averts his eyes, almost to gather his bearings, but that isn't enough. The subtle flush creeping onto his cheeks betrayed him. But he couldn’t be more delighted.
thank you for reading !! ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months ago
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Hello!
If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?
sorry this is my first time requesting lmao
hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
HEARTBEATS.
matt murdock x fem!reader
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word count. 481
Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did. 
Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.
-
You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.
You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.
"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.
"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning. 
His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently. 
Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you. 
You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.
He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing. 
"Matt?" 
"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.
"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.
"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.
"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.
He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried. 
"We're going to have a baby?"
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad
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amethystwrytes · 1 month ago
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Safe.
Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho
Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 
Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Me not knowing a single thing about medicine and relying on Google to give me accurate-ish information and the hope that I'm kind of explaining it correctly but knowing I'm probably not, so apologies to any reader who may work in medicine and is rolling their eyes at me lol. 18+ Only.
Chapter WC: 6k
AN: I have never ever in my life written a mafia fic, at least nothing I’ve ever posted or kept so…good luck. Additionally, this fic was originally all one doc which ended up being too much to handle, like Tumblr would not even try to meet me halfway. So I decided to break her up into chapters which I will post routinely until she's over. No idea how many chapters bc I’m still deciding on how to separate some of the later parts of the story…so hang tight with me. 
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-PART ONE-
It’s the blare of a phone ringing that wakes you in the middle of the night. You pull yourself to the edge of the bed and look at the two phones that lay on your bedside table. One is personal, in a shiny black case that in truth, hardly ever rings or blips anymore. The other is a silver phone, caseless, a little worse for the wear and the screen is illuminated with an unsaved telephone number. This particular detail doesn’t really matter, there’s only a few people who would be calling it, and they cycle through burner phones so often there’s no point in saving anything. 
“Hello?” your voice is scratchy from sleep. 
“We’re ten minutes out,” Changbin says urgently, skipping greetings entirely. You sit up and throw your feet over the edge of the bed. 
“Who is it and how bad?” you ask, flitting around your bedroom switching lights on and grabbing a hair tie. 
“It’s Hyunjin, and I don’t think he’s going to die but I can’t stop the bleeding,” Changbin grunts. 
“Gun shot?” you assume, already downstairs and clearing the dining table, wondering what kind of trauma you need to prepare for. 
“Stabbed.” 
“Fuck,” you stop. Possibilities like artery and organ punctures start spinning around your head. You pray it’s not abdominal, but you know these men too well so you don’t ask, because you’re sure you already know the answer. 
“We can’t take him to an ER, ___, his face is on every list in the city. You know they always keep informants in the emergency departments, we can’t take him there,” Changbin urges and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else. 
He’s correct. When Lee Minho, crime lord and your current employer first found you, you were working the night shift at the emergency department. You knew that because of the high crime rate in the city, many of the staff who sat at the check in and triage stations were also paid police informants, ready to dial up the officers to run any names or faces that looked sketchy, had a shady story, or came in with GSWs, or similar combative injuries. 
“Okay. Okay, keep direct pressure on the wound and I mean a lot of pressure Changbin, it’s going to feel like you’re hurting him but trust me, lots of pressure. I’ll prep the dining room,” you tell him. 
You take a deep breath and think. You start a pot of boiling water and lay out some clean towels on the counter. Then fly around the room opening drawers: Gloves, scissors, gauze, bandages, wound packing strips, disinfectant, antibiotics, stitch kit, and the silent prayer that no arteries, or internal organs have been compromised because you are not a surgeon and you will have to send them out to a hospital, which is more time wasted and gives Hyunjin a significantly lower survival chance. 
You weigh a clean sheet down over the table just as you hear tires squeal into the driveway outside. You run to the door and unlock it, propping it open so they can carry him in. 
“It’s bad ___, he’s out cold,” Felix grunts breathlessly as he and Changbin carry an unconscious Hyunjin into the room. All three are covered in blood and you don’t bother asking if it’s Hyunjins, theirs, or someone else's. The two of them are walking, conscious and breathing, so it doesn’t matter at the moment. 
“Okay, it’ll be okay,” you blather in a much higher tone than you mean to. 
You don the gloves and grab the scissors, cutting up the seams of Hyunjins black satin shirt, soaked with blood. Changbin keeps his hand pressed to Hyunjins left side, a balled up tee shirt gripped in his shaking fist. 
“Bin,” you say softly, “I need to cut the shirt away, okay? When I say three I want you to pull your hand off,” you explain and he nods, “Felix, I need you to bring the pot of water and those clean towels from the kitchen in here for me,” you instruct. 
You look at Hyunjins sweet face, ghastly pale, and lips several shades lighter than what they ought to be. He’s clearly lost a lot of blood and you briefly think of a transfusion, but have no way of performing one - most of these men have no idea what blood type they are anyway but even if they did you don���t have the means to do it. 
“Okay,” you breathe deeply once the shirt is mostly gone, the scent of iron and copper floods your nose, “One…two…three.” 
Changbin pulls the balled up, blood soaked cloth from the wound and you watch as the thick, red substance trickles out while you finish off the shirt. You hear Changbin gasp and curse under his breath. 
“It’s okay,” you say, “That’s a fairly good sign, see how it’s a slow trickle and not a burst or spurt? That’s a good sign,” you repeat for him, grabbing a handful of gauze to press into the wound.
Changbin nods and backs away. 
“No, no,” you stop him, “Go wash your hands, put some gloves on and come back here, Felix, you do the same. Quickly.” 
The two men disperse to do as they’re told and you hold the gauze in place with one hand, wetting a towel to clean off the area with the other so you can see what you’re working on better. It’s on his left side, above his hip in the small of his waist. That significantly decreases the number of organs possibly punctured. Left kidney, lung, and/or possible intestinal damage - none of which are good news, but that will make it easier to look for tell tale signs, which as of right now you don’t see. 
Changbin and Felix return, gloved up and ready to assist as you work diligently to stop the bleeding by packing the wound. 
“How long was the blade?” you ask as you work. You stick your fingertip into the open flesh to feel it out. This seems to perk your patient up, Hyunjin jerks up on the table, screaming in agony and cursing the room. The good news is the wound isn’t as deep as you feared.
“Hold him down!” you yell and both men scramble to steady him. “Changbin? The knife?”
“Um,” Changbin shakes his head, “Small, smooth, no more than ten centimeters I’d say.” 
Hyunjin gasps and goes eerily still on the table. 
“___?” Felix cries, you can hear the fear in his voice. 
“It’s okay, he’s responding to pain and that’s good, but he’s going to slip in and out of consciousness because of the blood loss,” you explain but you still see the fear on Felixes face, “Why don’t you tell me what happened Felix?” 
He looks at you, eyes wide with fear and you give him a shaky but reassuring smile and a nod of encouragement, “We were ambushed. It was just supposed to be a collection run, so only the three of us went. As soon as we walked into their storehouse bullets were flying. Hyunjin knocked the gun out of the guys hand and he pulled a blade out of his boot as a backup,” Felix adds, “He stabbed Hyunjin but he got in one last punch that knocked the bastard out cold,” he smiles proudly. 
“Was Hyunjin significantly taller than the man?” you wonder. 
“Definitely,” Changbin nods, “Why does it matter?” 
“Because it appears that the man stabbed into his side at a difficult upward angle, which prevented it from going in deep. That’s good, because that means it probably bypassed any of his organs. Felix, bring my stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff please, over on the end table.” 
Felix runs over and you cautiously release the gauze. To your relief the bleeding seems to have at least slowed to a manageable rate. 
You stuff the stethoscope in your ears and try to ascertain some vitals now that he seems stable(ish). His heart rate is lower than normal, but his lungs sound clear. Pupils are responding to light slowly but normally, and his blood pressure is low but stable. You grab his hand and press on his fingernails, O2 seems fine. 
“What now?” Felix asks. 
“I’ll need you two to lift him up a bit, I’ve got the wound packed but I’ll need to wrap a bandage around his torso to keep the packing in place, then, in an hour or so, if we’re lucky the bleeding will have stopped completely and I can clean him up and stitch it,” you say shakily. 
The boys do as they’re told and you carefully wrap the bandage around him, making sure the wound is secured. 
A knock pounds at the door as you lay him back down on the table, the three of you exchange glances and Changbin pulls the 9mm from his strap and makes his way toward the door with Felix tiptoeing behind as backup. 
“It’s me,” a voice hollers from the other side and your little trio breathes a sigh of relief. It’s Lee Minho, obviously coming to check on one of his best. 
Changbin opens the door and sweeps the front yard with his eyes for good measure before closing up again. 
“How is he?” Minho stands over Hyunjins still body as you discard your gloves in a nearby bin. 
“He’s lost quite a lot of blood, if we were at the hospital I’d imagine they’d call for a transfusion, which is impossible here - but if I can get him stable, he might pull through the blood loss thing. The wound wasn’t as deep as I thought it would be, but it’s quite a bleeder, so right now my primary focus is to make sure it’s completely stopped before sewing him up,” you explain. 
Minho nods, and you watch as he quietly assesses the situation, considering his next move. You don’t know Hyunjin as well as some of the others. You do know he’s careful, cautious and very good at his job. The fact he was nearly bested this evening has you surprised, so you can only imagine the shock of the man standing in front of you. Minho taps his finger gently against his lips, then drags his hand across his mouth in frustration. 
“I want retaliation for this,” he says quietly, darkly. 
“Absolutely,” Changbin nods, “The motherfucker who did this has numbered days.” 
“Find him,” Minho commands, “Find everyone who was there, I don’t care if you have to go to their homes where their god damned kids sleep, you find them, I want intel on them all, and we’ll go over it together. We’ll figure out who we can use for information, and who we’re going to,” he stops himself then and looks at you gently, “Well, who won’t be of any value to us.” 
You appreciate the attempt at guarded candor, but you already know he means to murder them all. Knowing Minho, and how he probably feels he’s been screwed over tonight, he’s going to kill the valuable ones too - once he knows what he needs to know. 
“I’m going to go wash up,” you say softly, “He should be alright for now. I’ll check him after I’m done. If anything happens just yell.” 
When you’re safely closed off in the bathroom, you take the first calm breath since the phone rang, waking you from a dreamless sleep. You stare at yourself in the mirror and realize in addition to being covered in blood, you also still wear the black silk nightgown you wore to bed. You scoff, looking down at yourself, the lace hem falls across the top of your thighs, sticking to the skin with blood, and one thin strap hangs off your shoulder. You look like a dumpster fire. Your hair is in shambles as well. You start to take it down and decide to toss the nightie in the trash when the door to your bathroom opens. Minho. 
“I sent Felix and Bin off, I need them to cool down a bit, they’re pretty keyed up,” he says, playing with the bottles and boxes on your bathroom vanity. “I’ve sent for Seungmin to stay with you and Hyunjin for a while as protection, I’ll stick around until he arrives of course.” 
You clear your throat, “Thank you.” 
“It’s nothing,” he whispers. He moves to stand behind you and you stare at each other in the reflection of the mirror. He takes two fingers and caresses your arm, hooking the rogue strap of your nightie and pulling it back into place on your shoulder. His other hand roams your figure, over your breast, down your ribs and waist, and stops on your hip as he gives it a gentle squeeze - never once taking his eyes off yours in the mirror. You say nothing, you don’t move. 
“You look like a scared animal,” he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your hair off your neck, exposing it. His lips move in, his breath on the delicate skin, and he looks at your reflection once more, “Hm?” 
You realize he’s asking for permission and you nod. His lips land right under your ear, his fingers spreading across your throat to gently pull you into him. You don’t stop the soft breath that escapes your lips and your hand flies to cover his as he continues to rub and squeeze your hip. 
You’ve almost lost yourself in him, when you open your eyes and realize he’s spreading the blood on your arm around. 
“Wait,” you gasp and jump away. 
“What?” he frowns, and you see the flicker of rejection flash in his dark eyes, but he decides  to suppress any reaction to it.
“You’re getting blood all over you,” you point to his hand, “I really do need to wash up and check on Hyunjin. I’ll need to monitor him constantly tonight to make sure there’s no change,” you say politely. 
“Are you that scared of me, Kitten?” he asks, leaning over your sink to rinse Hyunjins blood away. 
“I’m not scared of you Minho,” you tell him, and it’s mostly true, kind of. “You’ve been in my bed enough times that I think you know I’m not scared of you.” 
“Yet you always send me away after,” he sighs, shaking the excess water from his hands. “It makes me wonder if maybe you only let me into your bed because you think you don’t have a choice, you know, due to our arrangement,” he motions broadly at the room. 
You can easily see how he’d come to that conclusion. When you accepted his offer you went very swiftly from working your ass to the bone, on no sleep, in a shoebox of an apartment, with debt up to your eyeballs straight to having everything paid off, a credit card with essentially no limit, a huge, beautiful house on the edge of the city bought and paid for, and anything your heart desired. All of it was taken care of by him. So, yes, you could see how one might think you allow him to do whatever he wants just to keep things copacetic for him. 
“Do you want honesty?” you ask, reaching into the shower to adjust the water. 
“From my employees? I demand it, yes,” he nods. Well, there it is, you think. He looks at you as an employee, and you also look at him as your employer. The situation is so beyond wildly fucked that you’ve truly got no idea what you’re doing or why. 
“I let you into my bed because I’m lonely, and you make me feel…not alone,” you tell him. “It has nothing to do with our arrangement. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” 
“Good,” he nods, “but why are you lonely? You’re not my prisoner, you are free to come and go as you please, with the caveat of you being available when I need you, and for you to keep what you know and have seen to yourself.” 
“I know that,” you allow your nightgown to fall to the floor, “What I don’t know yet is how to compartmentalize my normal life with this life, how to live them separately. How to be normal out there, and business here. So until I do, well, you don’t seem to mind my using you for human connection.” 
“That’s understandable and I don’t mind at all,” he licks his lips as you slide your panties down and off your legs, “I know this was a big change for you, and I understand that what I ask of you is taxing, that what you see and hear is sometimes unfathomable.” 
You cross over to him, naked, skin streaked with another persons blood, “Thank you for understanding,” you say, and kiss him, pulling him into you by his collar. His fingers slide down your stomach and slide between your slick. You whimper into his mouth as he pulls away.
 He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them with a grin, “Wash up Kitten, but next time you don’t have one of my men bleeding on your dining room table, you’re mine.” 
You wait for him to close the door before you step into the water. You watch the white floor of the shower turn into red swirls being pulled down the drain. You scrub and scrub your skin until it feels raw, wash your hair in case any blood made its way up there to dry out in the strands. You dry off, moisturize and put on comfortable clothes - a pair of old scrub pants and a tee shirt you don’t care about. You pull your wet hair tight out of your face and then pick up your ruined night dress, tossing it into the bathroom trash on your way out the door. 
When you return downstairs you see Seungmin sitting in a recliner in the living room, scrolling his phone. Hyunjin continues to lay still on the dining table, and you walk over to check his vitals again, catching Seungmins attention. 
“Good evening,” he nods stiffly and you give him a wry smile. 
“Where did Min- Where did Mr. Lee go?” you ask him as you wrap the BP cuff around Hyunjins arm. 
“He left. You don’t need to know where,” he answers you with an uninterested cadence, not looking up from his phone. 
“Right,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Of course.” 
Hyunjins blood pressure is back to normal, albeit a tad low, but well in the realm of being acceptable. Resting heart rate has returned to the low 70’s, which is also a good sign. You finger the bandage at his side and it’s a relief to find that so far, no blood has seeped through the packing. That is indeed very good progress. 
As you fix his bandage back a hand flies up, landing over yours and you jump, looking up just in time to see his eyes flutter open. 
“Hey there,” you say softly, “How do you feel?” 
“Like I got stabbed in a back alley,” he chuckles and lifts his head but immediately winces at the pain and collapses back onto the table with a painful sounding thud. 
“Be very still,” you place your palm against his stomach softly. “You did get stabbed in a back alley and you’re far from ready to move around.” 
“Changbin and Felix?” he rasps. 
“They’re fine,” you answer, “They brought you here but Mr. Lee sent them home for the night, they were both very worried about you.” 
“But they’re fine?” he looks at you seriously and you nod. 
“Totally fine Hyunjin.” 
He shakes his head, “Those motherfuckers have to be the dumbest in the entire country. We weren’t even there for any rifts, we just needed to collect the monthly gun sales. I knew when we walked in something was off, everyone felt so nervous, I should’ve turned tail and gotten Bin and Felix out as soon as I felt it.” 
��She doesn’t need to know any of this, you ought to keep your mouth shut,” Seungmin calls from the living room. 
Hyunjin smirks, “Why’d they send the mean, strict grandpa? I almost died, I at least deserve Jeongin or Jisung.” 
You say nothing, but suppress a laugh and shrug your shoulders. 
Hyunjin wiggles around feeling his pants pockets and produces a square brass cigarette case. 
“Got a light Doll?” he places one between his lips and you walk to the kitchen for a lighter. 
“As your primary care professional, I don’t really recommend this right now,” you say dryly, but light it for him and allow it. 
“I’ve been a good patient though,” he sticks out his lower lip and you roll your eyes. 
“I suppose,” you say. 
“So when can I get out of here?” he asks between puffs. 
You scoff, “Well. If we were in a hospital and I could send you for bloodwork and images and definitively rule out any organ damage, I could send you home a lot sooner. As it is,” you think for a moment, trying to be both medically practical but also realistic to what Minho will expect. “As it is, I need to watch you for at least three days. I’ll need to monitor your wound, obviously, but also any sign of infection like swelling or fever. If that happens it could be because the blade nicked something it shouldn’t have, like your intestines for example, or that the wound itself is trying to go septic.” 
“Ew,” he grimaces.
“Exactly.” 
“And will I have to bunk on this very nice, but extremely uncomfortable table during that time? Not gonna lie Doll, I’m getting pretty stiff, and not in the fun way,” he jokes. 
“No,” you laugh, “Seungmin and I will help you to the guest room in a bit. First I’d like to unpack your wound, make sure the major bleeding stopped, and stitch you. Then I’ll clean you up and put a new bandage on, after that you can go to a real bed.” 
“Stitches huh?” he blows out a big puff of smoke. “Is that, uh…you know, going to hurt?” 
You grin, “Well, it won’t feel amazing, but it probably doesn’t hurt any worse than getting stabbed, and now we know you can handle that.” 
“Right,” he chuckles. 
“I’ll try and see if I have any more topical anesthetic in my supplies,” you pat his leg sympathetically. 
🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️
“Fuck! It hurts…” Hyunjin grumbles, you pause your needle as he flinches and bites down hard on his bottom lip. 
“I’m sorry, I’m almost done,” you tell him, going back to it, “aside from me sewing you up, how do you feel?” 
“I’m fine,” he says shakily, you can see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip and forehead, see his fingers shaking between weak grips on the edge of the table. 
“Cute, acting tough like that,” you click your teeth, “Now, how about you tell me the truth? I can’t treat you properly if you’re not honest about your symptoms.” 
He looks down at you, despite his current state, the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. 
“I feel like shit, there, you happy now?” he pouts. 
From the corner of the room Seungmin sighs, “She needs you to be specific, idiot.” 
“Why are you speaking?” Hyunjin snaps at him and you see Seungmin stiffen, face defiant, but you notice he sinks lower into the recliner and goes back to his phone. 
“He’s right,” you say quietly, finishing up the stitches, “I need to know if anything’s hurting, burning or itching from head to toe,” you stand up and help him lie back down on the table, carefully holding his head in your hands. This brings your faces closer together, closer than you’d ever been to Hyunjin, and you can’t help but notice the sweetness of his face, the wild innocence of his dark eyes. He meets your gaze with the same intensity and you have to look away. 
“So how about it?” you clear your throat, “How are you really feeling?” 
“My head is pounding, I feel like I could drink ten gallons of water, my side is burning where you just sewed my guts back in, and I feel like I couldn’t lift a feather without passing out. That good enough for you sweetheart?” he half laughs, then winces. 
“Yes, actually,” you quip, “The headache and weakness are both from the blood loss, I’ll get you some pain meds, and you can slowly start to drink some ice water for the dry mouth, I also want you on antibiotics, and Seungmin can help me get you to bed so you can rest.” 
You gesture to Seungmin, “I went ahead and pulled the covers down, I just need you to help me get him on the bed,” you instruct. 
Seungmin saunters over and Hyunjin reluctantly puts his arm around Seungmins neck, “Ouch! Fuck!” he cries and you look up from where you’re putting his feet on the floor. 
“Maybe support the side he doesn’t have a stab wound on boys?” you point to Hyunjins right side. 
“Right,” Seungmin grumbles.  
Getting Hyunjin from the dining room just down the hall to the bedroom proves to be quite difficult, despite the trip only being maybe twenty, twenty-five steps. The journey takes every bit of his energy and when he hits the mattress with a painful sounding thud he’s out again. 
“Is he going to make it?” Seungmin stands back and somehow looks both concerned and unbothered by Hyunjins pitiful state. 
“Yes,” you nod, “He needs to rehydrate, and rest. When he wakes up I’ll get him some pain medication, start some antibiotics, and get some fluids in him. Will you run down to the store and get a case of some kind of sports drink? He’ll need the sodium.” 
“No.” 
“Pardon?” you turn to Seungmin. 
“My orders aren’t to do your shopping, my orders are to stay here and protect the safe house,” he answers seriously. 
“For fucks sake Seungmin,” you sigh, “loosen up. I’ll grab my keys and be right back,” you tell him, “but if he wakes up and needs something urgent you’re on your own and whatever happens will be on you.” 
“Then I’ll deal with it. Just because you fuck the boss doesn’t make you the matriarch of the organization,” he says flatly. 
You freeze, your mouth setting into a tight, defensive line. You fight the urge to slap him, you know that he’ll hit you back and his fist most definitely packs a bigger punch. 
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Hyunjin says weakly from the bed, Seungmin nearly jumps out of his skin. 
“It’s the truth,” Seungmin challenges softly. 
“That’s not how you talk to someone who does so much for us, and besides I’d hate for that nasty remark to get back to Minho, you won’t be doing protection details for a while, I guarantee you that,” Hyunjin threatens. 
Seungmin huffs and starts to stalk out of the room. 
“You’re forgetting something,” Hyunjin says, weakly lifting a finger and pointing at you. “Apologize.”
Seungmins eyes narrow with rage, “I apologize,” he says through gritted teeth. 
“It’s fine,” you sigh, knowing he doesn’t really mean it and also knowing that you don’t really give a shit if he does or not. “I’m going to get some things for Hyunjin, you boys play nice.” 
You don’t give either of them the opportunity to respond, you just head for the door. You wait until you’re in the privacy of your own car, well, Minho’s car, before you cry. 
Seungmins words cut deep, both embarrassing and insulting. You hadn’t really thought about anyone noticing that sometimes Minho slips away upstairs to your bedroom and because of that oversight you’d never really thought about how it would feel for others to know, and to comment on it. It feels lousy, turns out. It makes you feel cheap, and it makes you feel wrong. 
🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️
It’s almost daylight before Hyunjin wakes again. He slept through almost every vital check, and at the most would only stir in his sleep when you put the cuff around his arm or the cold stethoscope against his chest. 
“What are you reading?” his voice pulls your attention from the page and you wiggle around in your seat, joints and muscles stiff from hours of sitting. 
“It’s just a silly romance novel, nothing life changing,” you tell him, setting the book down. “Here, you need to drink,” you hand him a cup of blue Gatorade, a bit watery from the melted ice. 
Hyunjin attempts to sit up but winces, “Never really thought about how much I use these muscles,” his smile is twisted with pain, but you’re impressed with his positivity. 
“Here,” you stand up and reach around to fluff his pillows up so he’s propped. “How does that feel?” 
“God you smell good,” he says softly, his nose centimeters away from your sternum, right between your breasts. 
“Thanks,” you sit back down quickly. 
Hyunjin watches silently, sipping the blue beverage as you make a ruckus on the side table shaking pills out of bottles. 
“What’s all that?” he asks. 
“Your meds, since you’re up and lucid I want you to go ahead and take some,” you tell him, handing him two pills to take. 
“Can I at least know what I’m taking?” he chuckles, rolling them around his palm. 
“The smaller white one is an Oxycodone, for the pain, and the big one is Cephalexin, an antibiotic just in case,” you explain. 
He tosses the Oxy back onto the table and pops the antibiotic into his mouth. Off of your stare he shrugs, “I don’t take pain killers, used to have a bad problem with pills.” 
“Oh, well, it’s mainly just Acetaminophen, I think this one is 800mg and only 200mg of oxy. I think wherever your boss gets my drugs - they keep the hard stuff. I’d like you to take something, for your head and for the wound, but if you don’t want to I can’t make you obviously,” you say, standing up. 
“I’m fine sweetheart,” he lays his head back down on the pillows, and puts the empty cup on the table. “I like a little pain,” he winks. 
“Suit yourself,” you grab your book and start out of the room. 
“Hey, where are you going?” he calls. 
“Just giving you some privacy to rest,” you shrug. 
“Read to me,” he gestures towards your chair. 
“You’re kidding?” you snort. 
“I’ve slept all night, and I’m bored,” he pouts, “Please?” 
You huff and plant your ass back into the chair, deciding not to point out that he may have slept all night but you haven’t. 
“You really want to sit here and listen to my silly romance?” 
“Absolutely.” 
You sigh and open your book to the page you dogeared a few moments ago. To be frank you can’t remember what was happening, you’d zoned out and the words weren’t exactly sticking. You scan the page to find anything familiar. 
You freeze. Oh good Lord. 
“Why are you blushing?” he laughs. 
“I just…it’s…it’s sort of at a spicy part,” you squirm. 
“Nice, lay it on me,” he grins. 
“Jesus…” you shake your head and clear your throat. 
“...Scooping her into my arms, I lavish kisses on her mouth and neck. We strip each other bare, our love making frenzied. I make sure she orgasms before me, holding back until her body achieves its release. Right before I come I whisper “I love you” between each breath before my mind goes blank with pleasure. As we lie across my-,” 
“That’s it??” Hyunjin scoffs. 
“What’s it?” you look up at him. 
“That’s supposed to be spicy? That’s barely salted!” he chuckles. 
“Well, I suppose it’s meant to not be super detailed, leave a bit to the imagination,” you answer. 
“That’s lazy,” he shakes his head. 
“Well what would you have written then?” you challenge, closing the book and crossing your legs. 
“I don’t know, I’m no writer,” he falters, “but I would’ve written something about how she feels, how it feels to push into her - tight and wet and warm. What she tastes like - from her lipstick, to her skin, to her cunt.” 
You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. 
“They could’ve at least described her noises, how playing with her in different ways makes her sound different, what her tits look like when I’m fucking her, bouncing fast or slow. I don’t know, something with a little actual spice,” he shrugs. 
“Well write a book then,” you say before he can go into any more detail. 
“I’m just saying, they could’ve painted a better picture, fucking is supposed to be fun, that sounded boring as hell,” he scoffs, “Who ever actually whispers “I love you” when they’re fucking?” 
“I don’t know, I guess people who love each other,” you grumble. 
“Yeah? Is that what Boss man says to you?” he teases. It’s not the same menacing tone that Seungmin had taken with you concerning Minho, and you can tell by the lightness of Hyunjins eyes he doesn’t mean anything by it, but God, these men. They all need to be lined up and slapped across the face. You’re sick of it. Sick of the power struggle. In every situation, in every conversation they have to feel like they’re holding the power. You let Seungmins comments roll off your back and ignored them like a coward earlier, but Hyunjin will likely be here a few days and you need to establish that you won’t back down again, you can fight fire with fire. 
So you straighten up and look him dead in the eyes, “No. When Minho fucks me he pulls my hair and slaps my ass and calls me his gorgeous little slut while his cum drips out of my mouth.” 
Hyunjins mouth turns into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and his eyes go wide as he points to you, “Now that is a goddamn page turner.” 
You can’t help the laugh that escapes as you stand up and straighten yourself out, “Okay, storytime is over, I’m going to get a little sleep. Try to rest. I’ll make you some breakfast in a bit.” 
“Okay,” he nods and settles back into the mattress, as you go to switch the lights he looks at you, his head cocking to the side a bit, “Do you like that though? The rough and ragged and dirty stuff?” 
You shrug, “Sometimes, I guess. Sometimes though…I don’t know… I think I’d like someone to whisper how much they love me, it sounds nice.”
He nods, then looks back up at you, “I’m sorry, I won’t comment on you and Lee anymore.”
“See you later Hyunjin.”
Too tired to even attempt walking up the stairs you drag yourself over to the sofa and collapse.
Seungmin sits in his recliner nearby and blinks at you.
You point to the blanket folded over the back of his chair, “Will you hand-,”
He balls up the blanket and throws it, pegging your face with a smirk. You shoot him a death glare before covering yourself up and sinking into the cushions. You try not to think about his earlier comments regarding Minho. You try not to think about Minho. You especially try not to think about dirty talk with Hyunjin, or how it stirred something within you that you absolutely must not allow to grow.
Endnotes:
1. Tentatively tagging my Minho lovers - @katieraven @linocz @screamobubbles @simpforleeknaur @moni-logues - because Minho will be centric to the story. However, if you do not want to be tagged for any reason just DM me and I’ll remove you, no worries at all 💙🥰 Alternatively, if you’re seeing this and want to be added to the tag list just let me know somehow!
2. As usual, here’s your virtual smooch for making it this far. Mafia is soooo far out of my wheelhouse and honestly even though this chapter is super unbeta’d - I may have future chapters looked at bc I’m not really sure I’m hitting the mark. Any feedback on it would be swell, just be gentle with me 😂👍
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magewritesstories · 5 months ago
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[ SPENCER REID ] GIRL DINNER
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cw. you and spencer are alone in the bullpen after a long case and you introduce him to girl dinner, guest starring spencer's glasses bc why not. [ fluff ] note. i used what my comprehension of girl dinner is but there's a lot of different opinions on what it's supposed to be. wc. 622
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THE BULLPEN IS QUIET AS THE CLOCK STRIKES 11:30 PM. Spencer sat in his office, wondering why he ever took Emily up on the offer of becoming Unit Chief.
The pile of unwritten reports seemed never-ending, and the pile of written ones barely growing.
The man sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance out his office window to look at the single lit light coming from your desk, where you're also hunched over a profile.
He quickly checks the time on his watch and gets up.
"You should head home, it's late," he stated, leaning against Luke's desk, which was parallel to yours.
You looked up from the report in your hand. "It's okay, I'm almost done anyway—what about you?"
"That doesn't count, I'm unit chief," he replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders.
"I didn't realize unit chiefs weren't human," you replied with a teasing tone.
Spencer just shrugged. "I told JJ I'd write her share of reports so that she could go home and spend some time with Henry and Michael. What's your excuse?"
"Just looking at the pile of unwritten reports on your desk made me tired," you answered. "I didn't want to add to it."
"I don't mind, you know."
"I know, but just because you don't mind doesn't mean I should take advantage of it every time—besides, believe it or not, I had nowhere to be anyway."
You gave him a small smile that made his heart flutter.
He stayed quiet for a minute (by accident) before quickly clearing his throat. "Uhm, have you—have you had dinner?"
"Sort of," you shrugged. "I had girl dinner if that counts."
Spencer frowned as he said something he found himself saying a lot more often with you around, "I—I don't—I don't know what that means."
You used your pen (pink with a small kitten attached to it—probably from Penelope's 'Batcave') to point at the empty plate sitting at the far edge of your desk.
"I had a small container of yogurt, a cup-o-noodles, and some apple slices," you explained.
"That's just a bunch of different snacks," Spencer blinked in confusion.
You shook your head as you corrected him, "Actually, it's a bunch of leftovers I found in the fridge—don't tell Terry, he's very serious about his yogurt."
"Still not sustainable," he countered with a smile, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"It's three out of the five main food groups," you replied with a grin. "Besides, it's not like I eat like this every day. I just didn't want to waste time getting dinner when I wasn't that hungry anyway."
You leaned against your chair, spinning slightly, as you looked at the slight crease between his brows.
"Tell you what, boss," you said, "If my choice of dinner bothers you that much, why don't we go out?"
"Wha—what?" he asked, snapping out of his daze.
You smiled at his flustered expression. "For dinner, obviously. C'mon, my treat, y'know, for being such a great boss."
"I—I—"
"It'll be fun," you insisted. "There's this great Thai place that opened a few streets down from that bar we went to the other day. JJ said you don't know how to use chopsticks, and I would love to see you try."
Spencer shook his head. "I taught myself, actually. I can use them now."
"Great, I guess you can prove it to me," you replied.
"You really think that place is still open right now?"
"Yep, opening hours are from 7 to 2," you answered. "So if we can finish these reports before then, we should be fine."
Spencer sighed before giving you a smile. "I'm going to try."
"Great, it's a date!" you exclaimed as he turned back around to walk to his office.
You were going to give him a heart attack one of these days.
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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago
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Mistakes
Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader
Will Miguel let you in?
Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling
it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles
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Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.
More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.
Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.
It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?
You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.
You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.
Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.
You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?
“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.
“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.
He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.
“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.
“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?
Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.
“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.
“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”
“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.
“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.
Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.
“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.
Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.
“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.
“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.
Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.
“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.
“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.
“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.
“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.
“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”
Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”
You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.
You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.
Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?
“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”
The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.
“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.
Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.
You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.
He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.
“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.
“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered
“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.
“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.
“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.
“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.
“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”
Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”
“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”
“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.
“Is this okay?” You whisper.
Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.
You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.
Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.
You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?
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vigilskeep · 1 month ago
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do you have any refs for Minerva’s relationship with the other dao companions? I did not realize she and leliana was estranged 😭 also if im remembering correctly she makes loghain do the dark ritual? sorry I do like spinning her around in my head and knowing the little details she’s such a great character!!
leliana and minerva did not have a clear breakup in the alistair minerva sense but they did grow apart because of the simple reason that post dao minerva becomes politically at odds with the chantry while leliana is serving its leader. leliana is not a type of person minerva finds very easy to like or trust so while they did grow on each other over the course of dao they never had a simple friendship in the first place
alistair you probably know about bc its kind of the cornerstone of minervaposting but theres a post fully explaining it not much further down in her tag
zevran is her romance <3 i hesitate to use the word “soulmates” exactly but they definitely fit together in a way no other minerva pairing could match
morrigan she has a weird close complicated vaguely homosexual friendship with, i’m sure this is par for the course for f!wardens. they probably could have been in love if morrigan had been willing to pursue it in the start and if minerva hadn’t already gone for someone else by the end, and all that is unspoken but very present in everything about them
sten is i guess kind of the typical high approval relationship as presented in game? not much more unique. a lot of respect a lot of arguing a lot of dry humour. they could hang out in silence comfortably and they’re also both know and respect that they’re very capable of killing the other if their greater purposes ever demand it
oghren she kind of doesn’t pay much mind in origins when she doesn’t have to but he becomes part of the family in awakening. they bond over having their insane shared experiences of the blight, and also over him trying to quit drinking and her trying to quit blood magic which leads to some really wild out of context conversations for the others. and hey, eventually over first attempting to parent at similar times
wynne she has a bit of a sharp relationship with. i think this could vary a lot if i pick her up earlier, but in my main minerva playthrough i picked her up late by which time minerva had absolutely no fucking interest in getting the kind of lectures she grew up with. sorry grandma </3
uhhhh who else. shale idk man im sorry for being a fake fan but shale’s dlc truly does nothing for me it’s unfunny and i dont think abt it at all 💔 this would be written in less harsh terms if i wasnt sleepy
loghain is. well that’s a kettle of fish. minerva spares him because it happens to be a preferable move for her agenda and her way of thinking, it’s not rlly about him as a person at all. she doesn’t absolve him of anything he did, like, she still thinks he’s a bastard it’s just that she doesn’t really believe at all in the concept of justice being done if it doesn’t serve a purpose. when he’s in the party they do build up respect and a weird kind of friendship. he sucks and she’s bitter about what sparing him cost her, but that isn’t relevant, it’s not going to stop her learning from him, or fighting at his side as the best team she can quickly make them, or simply finding him entertaining to talk to. so by the end it’s as a friend that she asks him to do the dark ritual, whatever that means. post dao she agrees with weisshaupt that him being assigned outside of ferelden is wise but they continue to write to each other extremely regularly, mostly on matters of news and strategy but occasionally on the more personal
is that everyone i think thats everyone
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hearts4court · 10 months ago
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Could you do Steve Harrington x freakishly strong fem reader? I think it would be so cute for her to just pick him up when he’s annoying her 😂. I just think the interactions would be so cute and funny.
Thank you!
Isn’t she lovely?
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A/N: i actually adore this bc you could brutally beat up someone bc you’re so strong and Steve would just be like “isn’t she lovely?☺️” ^^hints the title^^
Pairing: Steve Harrington X fem!reader.
Warning: cursing, Robin third wheeling y’all, pet names(princess, babe, love, etc.), implied smut
Lemme know if i missed anything!
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Visiting Steve at his job wasn’t uncommon. He loved having you there when Robin was starting to get on his nerves. And, Robin loved you there too, she loved having someone to talk to other then Steve as she didn’t have many friends.
When you walked into the video store, Robin was at the counter. She blinked at you before smiling and turning away,”Hey dingus, your princess is here!” she called out to Steve, crashing in the back of the store was heard making you laugh and Robin shake her head.
“Y/N!” Steve said, running out the back and picking you up and spinning you around.”Steve!” you giggle making him smile as you kissed his forehead.
“What are you doing here? shouldn’t YOU be working?” he asked.
“the store closed for the day because the air went out, it won’t be fixed till Friday.” you say, causing a big dorky smile to form on his face.
“Wonderful. How about you stick around for a bit? Robins driving me crazy.” he said, receiving a gasp from Robin making both of you turn your heads to the counter,
“How dare you, Harrington!” she said, making you shake your head. “Y’all act like children. Robin has an excuse, what’s yours, babe?” you joke as you hit his arm playfully.
“i hate to ruin the moment, but, dingus you have work to do.” Robin interrupted you two, receiving a groan from Steve.
“Fine.” He said as he went to pick up a box to stock up a shelf, “Here! let me help.” you say as you pick up the box with no struggle, unlike Steve.
He blinked. “What did your parents feed you as a child? steroids?” he asked in disbelief, Steve knew you were strong, but it still shocked him.
“No!” you giggle. “I just work out sometimes. And, a lot of my family is strong. It’s kinda genetic.” you say, causing him to blink more before chuckling.
“Come help me stock this shelf will you? Need someone to hold the box and Robin is to lazy.” he said as Robin flipped him off.
“Children, children. If y’all can’t behave then i’ll put y’all in time out.” you say receiving chuckles from both of them.
You brought the box to the shelf where Steve was standing and held in while he put movie tapes into their correct spot,”you’re so cute when you work, Stevie.” you say, making him blush.
Apparently, Robin heard you two, because a loud cackle was heard from over the counter. “Yeah, Stevie, you’re so cute when you stock shelves after complaining and putting it off for hours.” Robin mocked.
“Shut up, Robin!” he said, sucking his teeth.
"Steve, be nice."you say, slightly nudging him with your knee. He sighed before nodding,"Sorry, sorry."he said, glaring at Robin before taking the empty box from you.
"Hey, you know what i was thinking?" Steve asks, putting his arms around your waist, waiting for your immediate reaction to wrap your arms around his neck. "hmm?" you hum.
"How about we go on a date tonight? I know a great restaurant that just opened up, we should go there." he said, sounding a bit nervous. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his nose,"Of course. And then, we can go back to your place because..."you trailed off, "correct me if i'm wrong.." you smirked," you're parents are out of town, right?" you tease which caused him to blush and bit his lip.
"You're such a tease." he said with a soft laugh as he kissed your neck lovingly.
"but, you love me~~"you say in a low voice lightly nudging him with your hip.
"that i do, babe." he said kissing you with a dorky grin on his face.
oh how Steve loved his life.
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Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.
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lavendermin · 2 months ago
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also tipsiness but in a more sfw context
note: reader is a shitty texter with atrocious grammar and shorthand because the weaklings who use autocorrect will not survive when the abundance invades
you get invited by your friends out to a bar of some sort after-work party, and despite your usual reservations you somehow end up overindulging (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) perhaps it was the sweetness of the cocktails you'd ordered that masked the liquor's burn, or getting caught up in the tale your coworker was divulging of her cheating ex that was begging for her to take them back (and maybe in your tipsy mind you think, jing yuan would never do that, but it's merely a passing thought that you don't linger on, gliding past your focus as she drops another deranged attempt at winning her affections again) but whatever the reason—your head's spinning not even halfway through the night.
It'd be a lot less cause for concern of circumstances hadn't aligned how they had, your place of residence far further away than the usual haunt, and your friends are realising how intoxicated you actually are when you start rambling, dropping anecdotes about your definitely-not-a-crush, and definitely merely admiration fueled fixation on the Luofu's General. By the fourteenth metaphor of 'eyes like sunbeams shining through slow-flowing honey, except vibrant in a way that nothing else could ever stand up to', they are more than just a tiny bit worried about how they're going to get you home.
For reasons unknown, you've somehow acquired Jing Yuan's number, and for reasons slightly more known, your friend group ends up huddled around the table, your phone opened up to the chat and placed on the sticky surface.
The muttered comment of "dear Lan, I think I'm going to be sick—and it's not because of the alcohol," at your contact name—⭑⊹。𖦹°‧ general ⋆₊˚⊹♡  is a perfectly acceptable name and you will live and die by this truth— has you offended enough that you demand they dictate your speech, instead of simply letting them convey a general sentiment from the group.
You would have texted him yourself, if your hands weren't suddenly the least cooperative they've been in your entire life. Typing is surprisingly difficult when the extremities on the ends of your arms just flop uselessly against the keyboard—despite what it seems, and no matter the effort you put into it, gems like "meklokwhb ebjsiiwnn hjeins ??×?" don't convey the intended message very well...but you didn’t get as high in the ranks as you did without being adaptable, and the honor of being your scribe has been bestowed upon your closest friend.
> so, how has your night been?
His reply is quick, surprisingly fast for someone who you'd assumed to be rather busy—but it's the question he texts back that has your friend throwing his head back in raucous laughter, wheezing interrupting his exclamation of, "No way, your textspeak is bad enough that he can recognise it with one glance!?"
> Who is this?
If anyone asks whether your chest constricted oddly at that, you'd deny it. Even now you're explaining it away as a bad reaction to having three cocktails in the span of a hour, rationalising your suddenly fluttering pulse into a neat little box, to be locked away forever as you dictate the next message.
> my friend's borrowing my phone because my hands aren't working right at the moment, I think I had too much to drink
> but answer the question, it's important
> Your hands aren't working because you've drank too much? That seems to be a rather pressing issue that I wouldn't mind solving, if you don't mind me turning up to take you home.
> But very well, in response to your oh-so urgent query—my day has been severely lacking without you to keep me company.
(this entire interaction was inspired by a momwnt in a fix i read where the mc asked his friend to text someone for him, and said someone instantly recognsied that it wasn't the same person typing bc of the use of apostrophes ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ !!! this has been 🔥 anon too THE GRIND NEVER STOPS ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️)​
jing yuan knowing right off the bat your kind of horrible texting is such a cute trope ^^💗 10/10 no notes 💗
🔥anon (now wifeguy anon per your most recent ask ^^) this was such a treat to read thank you 🥹 im always a sucker for some fluffy jing yuan tropes
Also “weaklings who use autocorrect will not survive when the abundance invades” has me CACKLING
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fruityfairy-world · 7 months ago
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One Piece characters as ponies!!!!!
a fun way to unwind after a long stressful term!
here is my List as to why they are the way they are:
Zoro
- earth ponies have lots of endurance and brute strength, kinda just fits his vibes.
- “b but how will he use three swords? !” you may cry. fear not. i thought of this. i think he would have one in his mouth yes but the others he does sorta martial arts wielding to spin them and launch them, and cause he is Big he launches himself around to catch them. i feel like he’d make it a cool performance
- i didnt make him a unicorn bc i felt it was too easy for him to wield his swords that way. its zoro. he needs to be TOUGH
- cutie mark are swords bc. swords
Sanji
- unicorn because in my head the unicorns should have the weird tails and be tall
- he uses his horn for easy and professional cooking! he learned how to multitask and its what makes him so Speedy
- his legs are still super strong despite being lankier, his longer tail is also used like a whip.
- yes i gave him pants
- yes the pants are blue. truthfully i was thinming of All Blue and wanted to die that in.
- i really like his cutie mark. i made it a burning heart bc of his fire lol and also just his passion, could also be seen like he hurts himself a lot too
Nami
- cute pegasus!
- her wings let her steal faster and sneakier :3 she uses them more for agility and tricks rather than long distance flying
- cutie mark is a tangerine for obvious reasons
- i think she would have her tattoo on the other side of her body!
Robin
- unicorn because she is a smarty pants, i think she is also elegant like one.
- i imagine her devil fruit looks rlly cool with longer limbs, she would probably replicate her horn to stab when needed >:-)
- i chose for her to be a cooler toned purple because she is just. Purple! in my head.
- cutie mark flower petals. tried to make her markings look like petals too
- gave her pink eyes for fun
Usopp
- my camo king. it just felt right because he waits for the perfect moment to strike
- he isnt a pegasus or unicorn bc his strength is his brain! i feel like he’d invent things to try and be like them, but ultimately realize that his intelligence is what makes him save the day
- he can run and hide forever in the best way
- cutie mark is for his skill! a sharpshooter!!
Luffy
- i made him a zebra bc of his zoan powers. it felt right
- SO RED
- red
- still has the hat! obviously! i thiught about making his cutie mark a straw hat but that feels too easy. i almost made it a crowm but that doesnt fit his personality/morals, it feels too idk, hierarchal for him
- black tipped wings inspired by snake man :-)
let me know what u think and if i should do…gasp….more!
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ideasarestuckinmyhead · 5 months ago
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Another idea thats been rolling in my head is a Dynasty/Emperor Au. Where either some of the boys are Emperors or working for one and the listeners are Concubines trying to get away. Or one listener being a Emperor of sorts and all of the boys are their Concubines.
The only one I see being a Emporor is Auron, but it would be intresting if a different boy was one of a different region. I can see Auron having lots of Concubines but letting them do whatever they want with restrictions of course. He's the son of one after all and knows that they can have worth for things they wish to do.
Faust being Prince would be intresting bc he was going to be Emperor. But the more he sees Auron dealing with shit he enjoys having the privilege he has. Seeing Star though the main entertainer of his brothers harem want to see if he could be friends with them. He does ended up getting them in the end, only because Star told Auron truthfully they wanted to be with him. The read head was happy his brother found someone.
Alphonse has a candy shop still but also works at a Brothel. This caused him to meet Boo, who also worked there but was picked up by Auron because he loved their cooking. When Boo was given one wish by Auron they asked if Alphonse could come with them. Alphonse ended up being Boo's helper in the kitchen when baking. He makes candy treats for everyone, he confessed to Boo with a candy bouquet Finn helped him make. Auron made a comment once saying he was glad that Al finally confessed his feelings.
Seth is tricky to see in this au, but he was a theif but turned bounty hunter who works for Auron. He can see Alphonse is happy and decided he should too. Their still friends but he sees a fighter in the harem's ranks, Scout. Their more like a body guard for Auron only joined because they were bored. Both spar and go hunting together for new bounties for Auron. Seth tried to give Auron money to buy Scout from him but Auron just let them be.
Charlie works with Jack to get information. He also helps Boo serve food to the concubines telling them what they wanted to eat for the day. The listeners were ease to serve for but when he saw Casper again for the first time he froze. Casper was a successful merchant that asked to be apart of Auron's harem for protection. When they saw Charlie again they rushed to him and spinned him around. They connected again and Casper demanded that they wanted to be with Charlie. Auron smiled when he realized the person Charlie wanted to find again found him first.
Finn is the main gardener for Auron, he knows how to make the palace look lively for him. Sunflower is a poison make for Auron and taster. When meeting Finn they loved how he could identify the flowers they used based on smell. Finn tried to suppress his emotions but Auron told him that he only keeps Sunflower because they make sure he's not poisoned. He basically helped the two get together.
Lucien is a son of a warlord that tried to conquer Auron's empire. But Auron welcomed them into his palace, then poisoned Lucien's father with Sunflowers poisons. Big red was happy he did so he even took the title of being the new warlord and decided to make a trendy with Auron. Angel joined the harem because they were on the run from the deceased warlord, Lucien actually help then escape. The two had a crush on eachother and so to get them back Lucien asked if he could have them back. Auron agreed but told him if they are even hurt slightly by him he'd kill Lucien.
Jack is the one that does any job Auron needs done. Hunting someone down? On it. Information is needed from a different region? Here you go your Majesty. Buddy is like a Jester in a way from Auron, they were gifted to him by their parents who were wealthy nobles. They cracked a joke at him and Auron laughed at it. The two meet when Jack is giving information about a family and Buddy tells a joke. Caught off guard Jack laughed, Buddy really liked how it sounded so they always tell him some.
Auron is just happy that his concubines are well taken care of. He saw what being one was like by his mother, and what being the Emperor's favorite will do to them. So when Rook finally joined, they became part of his public image helper. They showed everyone that Auron wasn't a cruel tyrant he just seemed as one because he couldn't let other regions think he was weak. Slowly they broke him down and he asked if they wanted to be his partner. He knew nome of the others would want to hurt them since they were in love with other people and Rook accepted.
But when I think about just one listener being the Emperor (used gener neutral) is intresting as well:
All the YV boys are very different and some probably would never want to share a partner. But they were either gifted or picked by Listener to be in their harem.
Alphonse was picked because they loved how he made them feel normal. Just joking around and giving them candy when they went into the city to be normal for a day. So they asked if he wanted to come be in the palace and be taken care of for the rest of his life. Platonic or not they would respect his decision. He accepted.
Seth is tricky as well because he was trying to find Alphonse after leaving his pack of thieves. But heard he was taken to the palace he went to challenge the Emperor for his hand. The deal was if he won they give him Alphonse back but if they win he was to join their harem. They won but had a long discussion with Seth about why they took Alphonse and just wanted to give him a better life. He accepted after thinking over what it would be like a life without struggle.
Charlie was a childhood friend that listener had as a play mate when younger. Sadly when listener came of age Charlie left, he was threatened for being so close to them. He worked as a theif under Auron, but when listener saw him again they asked if he could just come back with them. He didn't want to at first but then said that no one would hurt him. After spending time together again he agreed to it, Auron even sent him off with money in case something went wrong.
Finn was apart of a family that was broken by the old Emperor before Listener took over. He was picked out from other nobles to become a concubine for them. Listener remembered him when younger meeting him in a garden where he was rambling about flower facts and how he wanted a flower shop. Listener told him of their memory and said they would fund it. Finn felt so happy he finally got his dream that he agreed.
Faust was given to listener by his father when they were born. He was also a playmate of them to get them use to nobles. Listener is more of a friend to him and let him do whatever he wants. They know what training he had to endorse to become the perfect 'groom' for them. Faust keeps most of the other concubines in check if they try something that will displease listener who has a thousand other things to worry about. He likes causing problems for the advisors he and listener doesn't like.
Auron is a powerful and influential merchant that basically runs the market. Since he knew Listener through Faust he supports them. Listener knows of his other job but chooses to not knowledge it, they know better not too. But lots of people kept pushing for them to either marry or make Auron a concubine for them. So to get hem off his back listener gave him a title of honorary concubine. Faust wasn't happy but listener told him they only did so because Auron is someone they're expect and want to keep safe from other power hungry nobles. Helps keep nobles and concubines stay in line with Faust.
Lucien is a son of a warlord once again in this. He was gifted to listener by his father because he lost a battle against them. Seeing that he loves to cook listen let him become their personal cook. He was just happy that he was able to have a semi normal life so he makes sure to give listener a feast when they wish. He gets along well with Alphonse and butts heads with Faust sometimes. But in all he's pretty chill with everyone, and is used as a intimidation factor for listener when dealing with other warlords and nobles that try and test them.
Jack is their handy man they chose because Finn told them all of the things he can do. Jack was a normal commoner that became friends with Finn bc his family worked for Finn's. He was a butler of sorts for Finn when he was picked by Listener but as time went by Listener liked how good he was at a lot of things. Auron even praised his work ethic once and told Listener that they should add him to the harem. So they did asking Finn and him if that was okay, they were happy to be closer to each other again. Now they can hang out without any of the other concubines out of the YV boys commenting on it.
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bcolfanfic · 3 months ago
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need more about the bucks' baby micah, headcanons or blurb i want more!!! (please, and when you have time ofc)
for ref
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doing this in headcan0ns list form bc im tired from the time zone switch back to the states
the bucks do, as reffed in that blurb, turn the car around from going to wisconisn to go back to wyoming. end up having to get a hotel somewhere for the night so they don't drive more or less 20 hours roundtrip themselves into an early grave. but yeah.
swing josie by gale's sister’s house on the way back to sheridan. don't explain all the details but have to give her *some* explanation when they go from headed them to wisconsin to now suddenly back in wyoming.
maybe don't explain that this baby is her biological sibling right away but just. say that someone they know needs help with their baby, and that they gotta go back because they don't want him to be in the hospital by himself. pretty word salady but they're exhausted and she's five so. it is what is for the time being.
get to the hospital and get scrubbed in to down to the nicu with natalie to go see him. john's head still feels like his head is still in in spin-mode to the extent that he's not really processing everything fully.
but gale sees that itty bitty baby in his little nicu incubator with a little tube in his nose and is just. distraught.
has to sit down after a minute because its making his chest hurt. he just can't fathom how little he is and how he's in *danger* and how connected he already feels to him.
he gets reallll "woowoo" about the fact that he finally brought up wanting another kid to john all of 20 minutes before they got the call about him. feels like he somehow already intrinsically knew about him before he actually knew.
so kinda the reverse of how it was with josie- gale instantly feels bonded to him and john has a little bit of a harder time.
loves him so much already, is worried sick with all the preemie health stuff he's got going on. its just hard to process how fast everything is happening. if him and gale had sat down and decided to go the infant adoption route that'd be one thing.
in that case he'd have a lot more time to work through his hurdles re: being scared of having a baby, of being responsible for someone's life from scratch etc etc. but here he only had the drive back from wisconsin.
calls his mom a lot. calls curt a lot. that helps.
lil guy doesn't have a name for the first week of his life lmao. they just call him buddy and baby boy and then john is sitting up w/ gale one night and asks if he's given any thought to his name.
they land on micah curtis. micah as a riff off of michael the archangel, and curtis after their best friend (:
curt cries when he finds out. sweet man.
john's mom comes out from wisconsin and when she's there at the hospital that's when both the bucks go to gale's sister's house and have to explain to josie- the best they can- the full details.
poor peanut is so conflicted about Everything. has been confused about not seeing either of her dads in the same room for almost two weeks. is excited about having a baby sibling- but confused about why if he's /her/ sibling from her mom why she can't see her mom.
just a lot of Big Feelings, which gale and john handle the best that they can. good dads <3
i think it finally really Clicks for john when micah is doing okay enough that theyre allowed to hold him. looks at that lil guy in his lil nicu baby beanie sleeping on his chest and just. yeah. big thats my son, i would do anything for you feelings.
john gets really into sitting by his lil incubator and reading to him. nice way to bond that isn't super overwhelming. makes gale heart happy to watch. his boyssss.
this is getting super long lmao so ill cut if off here. but i wove micah- and rachel and i have developed a looottt of lore about him as a teenager/young adult (specifically re: him and wyatt- helen's baby with nash/ev's step son). so feel free to come prompt me to yap more!
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callmearcturus · 5 months ago
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okay the Eye of the Duck for each of the MI films
Mission Impossible:
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I promise I really thought about the Vault Scene and I could go on for ages about it and I maybe should since it's the marker of what separates MI from other action franchises.
But my heart lives in this scene as the emotional core of the movie, where Jim comes back from the dead and tries to spin a tale that Ethan is too smart to fall for but is still tempted by. The way Jim says one thing but Ethan's already pieced together what really happened-- and doesn't like the answer, rewrites it in his head to make it fit what he wants.
Ethan's emotions and how much he cares about people is his ultimate weakness and it remains so for the entire franchise, so to see him wrestling with that all the way from the start is crunchy.
Also Ethan soulgazing the camera for that long is very affecting.
Mission Impossible 2:
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the point of the EOTD is to find the scene at the movie's center that reflects its core back at you. I think Woo's vision of MI is exemplified by that final fight scene between Ethan and the villain. I remember the first time I watched the movie, this scene made me go "NO" out loud several times.
I mean, mostly because absolutely not that handgun will not fire after being in the sand for that long, there is not enough gun oil in the world.
but since I have wisened up and realized MI2 is not the worst MI movie, I think I get it more. The over-the-top motorcycle jousting, the slow-motion, but especially the cuts to the roiling ocean-- everyone shut the fuck up and let your bodies tell the story, even if the 'story' here is as simple as "I'mma fuck you up." It doesn't have to be original, it just has to be a cohesive vision, and honestly I think people would like MI2 a lot more if they acknowledged Woo accomplished his specific vision here.
I don't love MI2, but I respect it. Way more than, uh.
Mission Impossible 3:
god i hate this fucking movie but the EOTD is really obvious.
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The only scene in this movie that works 100% is after the stupid vapid villain is gone and when the movie returns to the two fucking actors who carried this horrible script on their fucking backs.
Ethan has a charge in his head that is about to detonate and kill him. He's asks Julia to kill him and then bring him back to life to defuse it.
I... My hatred of this movie is legendary but I love this scene. I love Ethan staggering around like a drunkard bc he's blinded by pain. I love the way he explains how to shoot a gun to Julia. I love his little "Don't point it at me" and the way he likens the reload of a magazine to the flashlight in their kitchen, something both of them understand. I love the absolute trust here--
Esp bc I think it's clear Ethan could die right now, but he'd rather go out trusting his wife to save his life than to worry about it too much.
And Julia actually fucking saves him, and it's good! It's the only good scene in the movie other than Benji's second scene. And if MI3's goal was to dig into the Emotions of the franchise, then fine, this is the scene that's best at it.
Still the worst movie. Someone stop JJ Abrams from ever writing scripts.
Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol
holy shit i am stunned someone clipped this bit
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I am straight up stealing Brendon Bigley's EOTD scene because he's right.
This moment, right after Ethan and Brandt have escaped the river, there's this incredible lull in the action where Brandt asks "Why would that work?" about Ethan's ridiculous flare trick to misdirect the KGB dudes with the rifles.
Ethan's confused about Brandt's question because... he didn't know it would work, he played a hunch.
Brandt's bitchy lil "'kaaaaay.... so what was your scenario" and the way Ethan actually smiles as Brandt tries analyzing the logic of what just happened and why.
This is the EOTD of GP because it's the film tipping its hat to everything its doing (and everything MI will become moving forward) in microcosm. MI is not about metriculous clockwork plots and spy intrigue, it's about heart and instinct and the fucking motto of the IMF: "I'll make it work." Tacitly, this convo between Brandt and Ethan is Brandt as audience surrogate and Ethan as filmmakers' surrogate.
Why did that work? Don't worry about it, just keep saying yes and we'll get through.
(Also the bit immediately after with the best Tom Cruise Is Short joke in the series, immaculate physical comedy, love it.)
Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation:
fuck all y'all I'm going to pick a single joke and obsess over it
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FIRST 15 SECONDS
THAT'S IT THAT'S THE EYE OF THE DUCK
I'm not even remotely kidding, but this is related to BTS info about the gag. The script apparently only said "ethan and benji get into the car" but when it came time to film, TC was like "I can't just get into the car, it's the waste of a moment. hang on, i got it" and for the next take just DID that stupid flail across the car. Pegg's stunned look is real because no one knew he would do that.
As a writer, I love this moment because yes, just climbing into the car would have been a waste. It would have been an opportunity to put in a character moment just forgotten.
This is related to that lovely lil moment in Fallout where the team are meeting up with Walker after catching Lane, and there's no dialogue, but as they come up the stairs, Benji spots Walker, and he immediately flattens himself to the wall to get out of Ethan's way and looks back at Ethan for guidance. Ethan gives Benji a nod to say we're good, don't worry and they continue up the stairs.
These are little moments of characterization that are mostly built from actors who are just very comfortable with their characters, and this expediency of storytelling. Cut all the unneeded seconds, and make sure every second that remains in the movie is doing some kind of work.
so yeah that's the EOTD for RN.
Mission Impossible: Fallout
the EOTD for the entire MI franchise is the scene with the Parisian cop.
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Ethan stopping everything to try to convince a bystander to leave and keep them from getting hurt. That's the soul of MI, the same emotional damage Ethan's carried since MI1.
Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning
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"I was hoping it'd be you."
shocker, I'm not picking the moment when Ethan literally Says The Fucking Theme Out Loud, nope. I'm picking the moment Ilsa decides she too will follow the new IMF's batshit "beat the trolley problem by pushing the trolley off the tracks" creed, and gives up everything for a woman she doesn't know who is in over her head.
History repeats, and Dead Reckoning's obsession with closing the loop and creating internal consistency out of a series that has had five directors and seven films works perfectly for me. Venice is a visual recreation of Prague in MI1, with Ethan racing down dimly lit streets to save someone but is just not fast enough.
I also have this personal read on the scene as a refutation of Gabriel and the Entity, who represent an almost Calvinistic philosophy of inevitability and fate. Gabriel tells a lot of fucking lies for a guy fashioning himself to be a prophet, and he taunts Ethan about having to choose between Grace and Ilsa.
But Ethan doesn't chose shit, he's busy getting almost suffocated by Paris in an alleyway. Ilsa is the one who makes a decision, and for a person like Ilsa who literally was the person to ask Ethan to run away with her because all this spy shit is useless and meaningless
Ilsa is the one who picks, and she decides to save Grace. Not Ethan and not the Entity and not Gabriel.
Ilsa died to save an innocent (well mostly) woman, and that's the entire point of MI. There is no such thing as acceptable losses and if you can prevent someone's death, you do it.
AND THEN ETHAN SAYS THAT OUT LOUD TO GRACE BECAUSE "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME" "WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?" AND THAT'S MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
okay i'm done
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batsplat · 3 months ago
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if you were to direct a motogp movie (or make a one season of television) what season or rivalry would you make it about? and more interesting what artistic liberties would you take? it doesn’t have to be a straight up biopic bc imo those are often boring, instead it could be something like velvet goldmine (1998) aka fictional characters whose real life counterparts are pretty obvious, veering in like rpf territory. anyways👀
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did you know. one time this guy put a curse on this other guy. and he never won a race again
anyway, look, I do feel like by this point that's the BORING answer from me, but obviously it's where my mind first went. I'm not sure I'd actually want it out there in film form because by now it's badly enough remembered that it's like, my cute little niche story, and I think there's something fun about the Wider World even within the motogp fandom not exactly getting how bonkers the whole thing was. (I know other humans have canonically watched motogp 2004 but I swear even journalists have forgotten some key key details and it's kinda annoying but also fun.) bold words from someone who's been blogging about it!! weird gatekeep-y instinct. but basically my job here is done as far as outreach is concerned - I wrote a very long post, now I get asks about it twice a week that allow me to think about it some more with the four other people who care, perfect balance. that rivalry doesn't need to go mainstream!! the whole point of it is that it's kinda cruel but narratively pleasing that it's gone under the radar, because it's another sign valentino won. but obviously, I cannot literally make a film about this, so the hypothetical repercussions I think maybe we can put aside for a moment here
okay I came back to this bit of the post after I increasingly got into of the spirit of coming up with dumb ideas, but it did make me flesh out what I'd even WANT from something like that. I'm with you anon, a lot of biopics are boring!! if you want to just know what happened, please just literally go and 'watch the races' and 'read books' like what are we actually getting here. you kinda want to give it a purpose for existing, right, a way of portraying real/mildly fictionalised events in a manner that is also taking some kind of stance on the material AND is doing stuff you can't do 'in real life'. thing is, look, you could make 2006 into a film, and I'm sure it'd be perfectly nice because it's fundamentally a solid underdog story (well, inherently winning a title with repsol honda is NOT being an underdog but you can write it that way), but also what are you doing beyond just telling people what happened? I feel like that generally about single seasons, they're not really doing anything for me. I was also turning around the biaggi/valentino rivalry in my head in part because that's the one valentino gave as his answer for 'rivalry he would turn into a film' (marc big wet eyes sitting right next to him), but like. a film about that rivalry from valentino's pov is fundamentally not something I'm interested in. you have all these isolated very memorable moments that make it work as a rivalry, like you can absolutely spin them into a dramatic yarn that goes through the genesis of their conflict to middle finger gate to punching gate to assen + donington + sachsenring + phillip island 2001 and it's basically *insert rousing music* successful coming of age. at most you can lean into the fact valentino became successful at being a dick. like idk it's fine but also what's the point? valentino is challenged in a sports context by biaggi, he's challenged because he realises his words have consequence and the press actually reports the words he says to journalists (the horror), but he is fundamentally not challenged on a personal level. that's the entire point, right? it's the ultimate comfort zone rivalry - biaggi is a dick who it is quite easy to hate and also reacts poorly to valentino's initial provocation. the animosity escalates and it is inherently fun to beat him. valentino is mean to him, but it's not like he even really crosses any lines to beat him. like you can make it into a film, and if you twisted the material a little bit you could make it satisfying, but I don't want to!
now the way the writing process of this post worked was that I was going to breeze through a bunch of non-sete/valentino rivalries and explain why I think some of them don't work for our purposes here, but then I ended up writing myself into changing my mind. so my take on the biaggi rivalry is that actually, you CAN make it work but it has to be from biaggi's perspective. basically, I think you've got to amadeus it (a web weave I have been thinking of making at some point btw). so,,, it's a meditation on talent and how unfair it all is, maybe minus the bit where salieri poisons amadeus (I know that doesn't happen in the film) or dresses up as amadeus' father to, y'know, make him write a requiem on his death bed. and it's not amadeus in that HERE, the clown prince gets a happy ending! but it's more like, in thematic terms, I think you have to zero in on this bit. biaggi didn't have parents who shoved him on a bike when he was three years old, he didn't have parents who were invested in his motorcycling career (or even necessarily particularly invested in him), he started the sport late and discovered that, yes, he did have a prodigious amount of skill in it - but one that he started honing far later than valentino did. he approached his career with a sort of grim resolve, surly and irascible and not interested in making friends with any of his competitors but very, very good. he goes away from the race track and dates all these models, he irritates fellow riders, he's not part of the gang and he's happy about it. he's very successful! four 250cc titles, wins his first ever race in 500cc at a time when doohan was very much winning everything. he's also just like,,,, an interesting and spiky enough character it's not hard to make him come alive
but then of course you have this gradual emergence of the amadeus character, the one who challenges his established position in the court of,, well... motorcycle racing, and also as the guy italians rooted for! and valentino's obviously, y'know, in so many ways the exact opposite from biaggi, and he's super young and cheerful and lively and is doing all his silly celebrations and is being a bit camp and goofy and treats motorcycle racing as a party (you really want to lean into the culture clash here, like in amadeus it's because you have stuffy austrian court vibes but here it's because everyone is having their bones broken every two minutes and just how... kinda grim a lot of motorcycle racing was). and he's also this innocent! yes, he insults biaggi, and yes, in retrospect we know valentino is kinda evil, but at the time he was a kid with a big mouth who was a little taken aback by how that biaggi feud sort of escalated beyond what he'd actually intended it to do! and biaggi just, hates him. and I think, sorry to the real man max biaggi here, but you've got to play with how once they're actually competing with each other, it's miserable how there's just this unbreachable gulf in talent. like, whatever biaggi does he cannot win! he isn't going to defeat valentino over the course of a full season! which is depressing and horrible and CRUEL, because there's this inevitability to the whole thing... and also! because valentino doesn't DESERVE it. and you don't have to go full salieri pleading with god to explain how god could give this CLOWN all this talent, but it's kinda the same vibe! how is it valentino, who is constantly just having a laff and canonically maybe wasn't the biggest gym-goer in the paddock and is just generally seen as, y'know, a bit of a dandy, this foppish clown who everyone loves and who doesn't have to work hard to be good - how is he the one who is winning so much!! it's miserable and unjust... and I think how you portray this is that you really emphasise the kinda, repetitive nature of the defeat. like, I think you probably want to make this into a non-linear narrative where all this biaggi backstory is communicated somehow but you don't just start it when he was born or whatever - you start it in 2001 when they're competing for a title and already hate each other. and then you heavy on the time loop vibes. the whole cinematic language and all that other shit should emphasise how all these weekends are structured in exactly the same way and if you're losing to this one guy, all these different weekends can start feeling the same. it bleeds into each other, it feels inescapable, you're trapped in this narrative you can't change... worst of all, you even return to the same places again and again - like play with that! biaggi keeps coming back to where they had the fist fight, to where valentino first insulted him all those years back. you play up the disorientation and the misery of it all, plus biaggi canonically gives us all this kinda messy freudian shit to play with like how he was dating 'valentina' and his relationship with her was falling apart because of how miserable valentino was making him. it's all there!!
ANYWAYS the way you conclude this story is!! welkom 2004!! so again we can artistic license this a little bit and, uh, ignore sete (though I do also think it's fun if you lean into biaggi being displaced as a rival and staring at them being friendly and happy with each other from the outside) - but the key bit is that valentino is finally making the big error. biaggi wasn't winning titles on a yamaha, since he left yamaha has gotten worse, now valentino is making this big mistake out of his own hubris. language of cinema that shit and make everything brighter and more hopeful.... the time loop is finally over, biaggi has escaped, this year will be different!!!! everyone in his circle agrees, valentino is fucked. step off the plane at welkom (pre season testing didn't happen in this universe) and it's literal dawn of a new day... staring out at the sun and finally, biaggi can move on, can live a new and different life. anyway. obviously we all know what's coming next - you have this big dramatic climactic race where biaggi throws himself at valentino again and again and again and he comes so close to winning it... but he doesn't. and you have valentino living his best life, being delighted, but the film is focusing on how like,,, we're bleaching the joy back out of biaggi's life, how actually he's returning to what he already knew. and it ends on the podium, with the camera focusing on biaggi on that fucking second step or zooming in or whatever (idk how cinema works) and it just finishes on this shot of biaggi dead-eyed in a bleak world, trapped again for eternity aka until the end of the 2005 season. done!! I'm not sure this is quite what valentino had in mind, but. well. that's how I'd do it
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this is from the pushkin play from 1832 not the 1984 film but like. low key pushkin already kinda nailed the essence of sports rivalries in the 1830s and we just have to acknowledge that sometimes
right. so the casey rivalry is where I'm going to go completely off the wall. skip this bit to get to the slightly saner stuff. this is also one I fully admit to sometimes playing around with in my mind anyway, but. uh. I'm gonna be taking this one in just. well. places. I do have a vision here but I also don't quite know how to explain it in a way that doesn't make me sound like I've lost my mind, but well if you're still reading this then that's on you. so lemme get this out of the way: the classic sports biopic formula would work well with casey. if I had to point to a single rider I would sports biopic-ify, it's casey. so you have all this kinda,, obvious adversity that's easy to get across, and it's a narrative you can follow chronologically without too much trouble. you've got all the childhood stuff, the australian racing club not letting him join them, the move to britain, the rising through the ranks, it's also this very biopic-friendly 'nobody ever believed in him apart from like three people' stuff. and the premier class is also narratively satisfying, from the rocky rookie season to the kinda shock success to then all the lows of 2008 and 2009 and the physical ailments and the anxiety and then the switch to honda and the title and then him deciding to retire... that's all good stuff! you can absolutely biopic-ify it! gun to my head and sure, I can walk you through exactly what bits of his life I'd focus on and put in what order and so on, and I think ultimately you could make a very good sports biopic from that
[some mild gore to follow in this next section]
but also. thing is. that's fine. it's just not where I want to go here, because again I feel like at that point you can also pick up his autobiography and just read it - because what you're basically doing here is just filming that. and I get how this stuff works, you're bringing the story to a wider audience, you can show stuff in a different way in that medium etc etc, and that's all great but also I don't care about bringing stuff to a wider audience. I care about doing fun stuff in my brain. so what I'd actually do here is just, basically, go in the exact opposite direction and ditch all the realism. genuinely, ditch the live action stuff, we're going animated - what I'm interested in here is stuff where we need to be able to fully suspend our disbelief and lean into some surreal shit. I'm not going to bury the lede here: my idea is that you take that thing where casey said he hated how ducati was ruining the bike by letting valentino's yellow encroach on it and, basically,, just go all in on that bit. like come on, that is so singularly visually evocative, it truly captures a lot of what's going on thematically in that rivalry. (see also x and x for the most relevant casey posts.) casey sees valentino as the malevolent force, this infection! he associates him strongly with a specific colour, one that can be sickly or unnatural or just... evil. malignant, malicious, malevolent, all the m words. to casey, valentino is a personification of everything that is wrong with the sport. valentino is literally the walking manifestation for so many of his issues, from the dangerous riding to the lack of respect to the lying to the cult of personality to the obsession with image and the media to the backroom games to the politics to the injustice of how different riders are treated differently, like!! he's literally all of that! this is a topic for another post, but this plays out in a lot of kinda, weird and funky ways where it's a two way street and sometimes when casey talks about motogp you go 'actually I think that's just valentino?' (btw he also does this about 'europe' right I don't think those are europeans you hate casey that's literally just valentino) and sometimes when he talks about valentino it's kinda? this feels like it's about a little more than the bloke himself? and basically, right, I think you need to take this to its natural conclusion where casey used to admire him and look up to him and want to emulate him on track and then gets disillusioned when valentino's worshippers turn against casey and casey is the one to bring valentino down to earth and... listen, I think you need to play around with valentino being a literal god. and I think you need to have casey stab him to cover up the yellow on the ducati with blood
okay. look. the idea here, right, is that we're basically making the subtext text, and just digging into that process of 'bringing valentino back to earth', of taking on a god and having the audacity to succeed, and also treating valentino as this sort of. infection in his own mind. the bike is literally being infected!! casey may have left the ducati but he STILL has some fidelity and love for this project, those were his people he worked with, and now valentino is coming in and just twisting everything around himself!! but also I think how this functions is that, okay, so you have all this normal stuff that's the actual 'plot' in the 'real world', but the ISSUE with the real world is that there's a lot of stuff that just. isn't possible there. like the thing casey wants in that rivalry but is never going to have is... a captive audience. a big problem casey has in that rivalry is that he doesn't get the chance to actually say a lot of stuff to valentino. he starts using the media more and more and plays the game on valentino's level, but there's still this disconnect where mr straight talking is the valentino rival who valentino never really blanks or freezes out like... there's a disconnect! there's valentino the person, who casey never quite figures out how to just straight up hate, and then there's valentino the character, the racer, the rider, the god who casey DESPISES. but when they're doing small talk at pressers and podiums, casey doesn't get to talk to that version of valentino! he just talks to valentino the person, who obviously isn't literally a different person but is also not going to explain to casey where he's coming from, is he, and also isn't someone who casey can explain to where HE is coming from. and that gulf... it does bother casey. I don't think he can quite verbalise why either, but there's just... this creeping tension. I think it'd be easier for casey if valentino really were more of a caricature, just kinda a dick in all walks of life. and there's just these canonical hints of that... the way casey talks about how he's sure valentino as a guy is fine, but he never knew valentino like that, the whole 'I'd like to go with valentino for dinner to tell him where I was coming from in that rivalry' thing, like!! it's there
so basically EYE think what you should be doing is using the wonders of storytelling to actually. embrace that element. and just leave realism behind now and again. valentino is a god, he is literally worshipped, he's part of this pantheon that casey is trekking to reach. casey is brave enough to take him on in combat, he is the first one who is truly able to draw blood. he sees how valentino isn't just a god of joy or battles or speed or the SUN or any of that other stuff - he's a disease, an illness, a god who is also a false prophet... the worship never quite goes away, because who ever truly gets rid of their valentino rossi complex, but casey eventually is given the chance to face a chained valentino and kinda,,, ritualistically publicly humiliate him using the ducati as both this sick thing that has to be 'cured' and this symbol of valentino's failure. I'm sorry, visual language goes brr here, like chain him up, do weirdly eroticised torture idc!! (psst psst valentino's fucked up shoulder also extremely goes brr here, casey low key a teensy bit weird about valentino's injuries? his thing after the 2010 leg break where he goes 'why's everyone making such a big deal about this other people break their limbs too' and then after 2011 jerez immediately asking whether valentino's shoulder is okay in just a very obviously passive aggressive way. literally he opens with that, valentino isn't using it as an excuse or anything, for some reason it's already on casey's mind and I would politely contest it was out of genuine concern for valentino's wellbeing!! it's just kinda? I'm so compelled by it? I suppose it is kinda about how valentino's suffering gets taken more seriously than his own? how those absences are received differently by the motogp world? idk I find this fun because casey does know this is one thing valentino can't really be blamed for himself, so it just slips out a bit? but yeah, casey + valentino's injuries, nobody's talking about it but I sure will, let casey get weird and mean and a teensy bit sadistic about valentino's injuries in an artistic manner.) crucially I like animation as a medium here because I think it's easier to lean into surrealism when you don't have to hand hold the audience so much through the suspension of realism, also there's just some imagery you can do in cooler ways through animation where in live action it may just look. weird. (I think you can also do one of those things where you have a live action film with only those specific bits animated but also... why? it just feels like in live action you need more 'justifications' for things, like am I saying casey is having some weird hallucinations and is losing his mind? no I just want to have weird vision sequences ffs.) the colour stuff!! valentino/casey is big on the colour coding as a rivalry, to the extent casey is even, y'know, drawing attention to it in the literal text!! yellow and red are banger colours, valentino is big on imagery himself with all his sun + moon motifs, it's kind of all there to make the easy next step to kinda zany surreal imagery. ritualistic stabbing works better in animation, you can kinda get the blood to like. drip down and overwhelm the yellow illness that's slithered out across the bike
and. AND of course what this entire set up allows you to do is.... give them an opportunity to talk. they can't talk in real life! casey CAN'T give him his real thoughts on anything, and fundamentally valentino can't either. they're opponents. they're strangers who chat sometimes. it's not just that they aren't friends, it's that fundamentally they cannot be friends - because their ability to do their actual jobs depends on a certain level of professional distance. valentino of course does have a decent read on casey, and vice versa, because when you're figuring out how to defeat someone then (if you're valentino) you're looking to play the rider too. valentino's entire approach depends on focusing in on his rivals and attempting to throw them off, to make them unravel. he's watching casey closely!! the entire journey of casey's first three seasons in the premier class essentially becomes like, this god of their world focusing in on him. figuring him out. trying to gnaw away at him. obviously, animation also allows you to go big on the panopticon-y imagery which is kinda fundamental to their rivalry, because of their fundamentally oppositional stances to 'performing' for the ever present cameras where there IS a little bit of common ground in they have both struggled with it. but valentino isn't going to ever say that to casey! casey isn't going to open up to valentino! so if you give them,, you know, a different arena to express themselves, where casey actually has this external figure to talk to (as he's like, cutting him open I guess) whereas valentino actually is put in a position where he's allowed to respond, where he can taunt casey a little bit, where he can interrogate casey's approach and also the similarities between the two of them and how casey has been forced to become a little more like valentino to challenge him... because the thing is, right, valentino is so big on message discipline with his rivals and has completely stopped talking about that rivalry post mid 2013 that, first of all, you have this complete imbalance in who's been telling this story for the past decade, but second of all you kinda don't have a sense of what valentino would respond? idk!! I think this is mainly fun as a thought exercise for me specifically but also I do think it's kinda, digging into some of the bits that make this narratively work as a rivalry, how valentino in this rivalry is actually just kinda... removed. like he's not really emotional about it!! at most he's a bit bitchy, but even that just feels about The Game. it's the most extreme in this regard followed by jorge - but with valentino's other feuds you kinda... see a bit more an unguarded moment, see something a little more real there. the casey rivalry feels so uncomfortable precisely because valentino is a little... inhuman in this one. I mean, if you want to have valentino as some kind of cross between a deity and a monster in any of his feuds, this is the one. casey's just an obstacle to him. idk don't you think casey kinda wants to chain valentino down and stab him and make him see casey a little more... well, I think he should want it and I think it'd be fun to see and get them to talk to each other. ugh and also all the implications of making the faith vs non-believer elements more literal... casey the heretic!!!
there's some obvious stuff here you'd have to figure out, like 'how do you make this work as a narrative even to people who aren't familiar with casey stoner at all' and 'who the fuck do you think the target audience is here' and 'you do know this is not the kind of thing that would ever be made, right, go back to the casey stoner sports biopic like a sane person' but!! I do think it's material you can make work if you're just,,, efficient and smart in how you're actually telling the 'real life' version of the rivalry. also in my head this is. idk. an animated limited series not a film, which then brings in other stuff like 'episodic structure' because I'm fundamentally opposed to tv shows that think they're films. and look, I'm not going to write an entire film script treatment here, I just think a good writer can figure this stuff out. blood on the ducati is the framing device for everything else, simple. lots of animated floating eyes I reckon, first casey is watching valentino and then valentino is watching casey and the whole world is watching them... and it does bleed into real life just a little, where you're wondering whether casey is actually imagining/dreaming this stuff or valentino is or if they both know it somehow... you can get away with more ambiguity in animation. anyway, if you do want more thoughts on this one specifically for whatever reason, let me know because this one I do actually have more on
also laguna 2008 is a bit tortoise and the hare coded if you really think about it
[end of gore]
so. on to jorge. hm. the thing about jorge is that he was kinda writing a coming of age film in his own head, so like - yes, that's what you do go for? you can play it straight and follow how jorge has cast his rivals, or you can pin the whole narrative on the fact that jorge has cast them - the kinda artificiality of the narrative, the way jorge is this storyteller who isn't being recognised as much as he thinks he should be, isnt adequately appreciated. the way there's this three way discourse between what jorge thinks the story is and what the public thinks the story is and actual. you know. reality. I think this is a bit more light-hearted, like you know how the best stories about teenagers take their emotions seriously but also let them be kinda silly? because young people are silly! jorge was silly! he's got a lot of CHARM because he's so cocky and naive and full on and intense and awkward and kinda off-putting and tactless and a bit all over the place and so painfully, painfully young, like he's a good protagonist because that's a KID. but also, obviously there's also a lot of extremely not light-hearted bits of his story - everything about his father, his manager... idk this one's another one where, I don't just want to make it a generic sports biopic, and I'm trying to figure out the clear narrative arc here? I mean, you can point to the end of 2010 and really lean into him choosing victory on-track over popularity off it. the problem with 2010 is that it does not work as a dramatic season, yeah sure with the magic of biopics you can hack at it to shit but also. idk. what are we getting out of it. I think for narrative purposes you want to maybe narrow in, and end it at the end of 2008, with the switching of the numbers this kind of moment of emancipation? but also! this feels like we're straying a bit too far away from the fun sports elements and I don't want to REALLY suggest all the ways in which you could mine jorge's personal trauma in a jokey tumblr post, so I'm gonna move on from this one
the problem is 2015 just straight up doesn't work as a jorge-centric narrative, except in a very kinda comic way that leans into how absurd his role in that season was. 2012 as a season is a bit... y'know, it's fine. okay it's mostly terrible, but that's fine too. but it doesn't have a great narrative hook. which kinda leads you to the problem that I do think the valentino rivalry is more... juicy from jorge's pov, because for valentino, jorge is just kinda? an obstacle? idk he's more normal about it, it's just his job to destroy the guy, you know how it is. but also 2009 does work better narratively from valentino's pov, like it's the build up to catalunya specifically you can dramaticise... idk though, I do love catalunya but my heart isn't really in this exercise because I think valentino isn't really being... challenged here? it's a title fight where he's fundamentally using a set of tools he's already perfected, to beat a guy he doesn't really give a shit about. when the italian press is down on him pre catalunya, it doesn't spark any genuine self-doubt - it's just a handy source of extra motivation. there's no epic highs or lows that season, not real ones. and yes I know I was talking about making valentino who gets stabbed repeatedly to cover up an infection a moment ago, but that reflected real EMOTIONAL truths!! I'm committed to thematic fidelity more than I am to literal fidelity
genuinely I think the best way to tackle jorge is with the jorge/dani parallel journeys... what, film? tv show? maybe show actually - you don't have one coherent narrative Statement per se but you're constantly charting those journeys in reference to each other, really rooting it in their respective points of views, no neutral detached cinematic language like I want everything to be very much written to be from their eyes!! going from one to the other and back again. and you're charting these different journeys, right, and how they both captured different flavours of like... emotional successes and failures. I think it's actually about failure, yeah, about having to accept there's something you can't have and might never be able to get - whether that's universal love or a premier class title or whatever - but Actually, that might not be the end of the world. and during this process, they go from being enemies to tentative friends!! guys who realise they can maybe actually understand each other better than they thought!! this real moment of interpersonal connection. you have all these media narratives and the managers and so on and the fact they're competitors as these built in reasons why they've just been pitted against each other from the start... but y'know, again, it is also just a bit about maturing, about being able to set that aside, about making your peace with defeat and failure as an element of growing up. you can't win everything, maybe there's something you really really really want and you're just not going to get it, but at the end of the day it's kinda... yeah. self-acceptance. idk this is the nice one
so with marc you can go several different ways here I guess, and again he's also perfectly decent sports biopic material, probably second to casey in that category like yeah sure do the comeback story. but also, we do already have a very good self-produced documentary about what he thinks the narratives of his career are? idk this is also just a personal taste thing, I'll leave him to doing all the injury stuff himself, I don't have much to add there. we'll get to the obvious one in a second, but I was trying to figure out if there were other places I massively felt like you need the cinematic touch. and, again, the 2013 season is obviously very exciting!! but also, you have it covered in.,,,, multiple documentaries, I don't feel I have a take their either? his rivalries with dani and jorge aren't really substantive enough to sustain a bit of cinema. dovi... I mean, what are you saying there? what's the arc? I feel like if I tackled dovi, I'd go somewhere else and really go all in with the ducati stuff, and make it a bit more... you know, stark, stripped back, basically just the emotional component of how much he gave to that project and how he managed to beat away one rival after the next and how it all ended up falling apart in a kind of anti-climactic way? he's also good sports biopic material, but in a way I think the marc rivalry is the bit of his story I have the least to say on. so eg, 2017 is a dramatic season, but he's also kinda fine after it? he always knew it was a long shot, he tried his best and he got really close and then he lost. you can't amadeus it because dovi isn't (fictional) salieri. basically, I think what I'm saying here is that dovi is too well-adjusted to feature in this post. though I'd totally watch a film about his 250cc seasons, like it's a bit annoying because HE is the underdog who loses both title fights to jorge, but it'd still be kinda fun idk. I wouldn't really know what to do with the material but if someone made the film I'd absolutely watch it
right then. the thing about sepang 2015 is... yeah, sure, of course you can do it, it already exists as a narrative but... yeah, what are you adding!! idk I always think when you're adapting something, you kinda need to have a reason for it? I mean, what are you doing that's not already there in the footage? idk maybe this is just a sign of having been a fan of this sport for one too many years but to me the idea of sepang 2015 can get a bit boring (or maybe just repetitive) where I need a new TAKE on it to really get into the idea of fictionalising it. like where's the auteur's touch y'know, what can I still add to this!! but it also needs to WORK for someone who is new to the story, which kinda just makes you want to tell the story straight.... y'know the story is strong enough and COMPLICATED enough to stand on its own and it IS good but I don't really have anything interesting to say beyond 'yeah sure that'e be neat'. I can't tell you why, but I also don't think the casey approach quite works here? the idea of providing a framing device with which valentino and marc can actually talk to each other... eh. don't like that. hm. okay wait actually I just turned it around in my head for... a while and I think I've got an idea to make the worst motorcycle racing film of all time. so, my central stupid film-making gimmick here is just. centring the fact we're completely reliant on a few guys and what they're telling us in making up our minds, and our removal from that story and the imperfection of their perceptions and so on. so I think you kinda make a point of... not actually showing the motorcycle racing? like, you always show it by showing other people watching it, you're showing the tv screen rather than the actual racing. even in the cinematic medium, you're centring the theatrical aspects, where you drill it down to just a few characters. valentino. marc. uccio. marc's fuck ass manager. maybe a crew chief or two. keep it limited though, all the others are kept at a distance - you're constantly focusing in on the same few characters. and very early on you basically just like... get them to fourth wall break by telling you, the viewer, with their actual words how racing works for them, what meaning they take out of it - and again it's this remove because we're never allowed to actually feel the racing for ourselves (no helmet cams), and it sets up that as the tragedy unfolds, again and again we're just hearing from them what happened. it's all zoomed in on how claustrophobic the entire situation is, like doing the race direction room after the sepang 2015 is perfect for that kind of thing, and crucially they're only ever addressing the audience because they can't address each other. but fourth wall breaks also obviously draw attention to artificiality! I realise they are very much like, lame gimmick central, but also are these men not inherently about lame gimmicks... idk it's basically the same story but at least it feels like a kinda interesting way of telling it. kinda trite, but cinema allows you to get to the point and let valentino actually play with the camera... so literally take it into his own hands and lead it around and tell the story from his point of view. and you can play with how they do both change in what stories they think they're telling, how they're constantly revising their own stories, how their stories completely clash with each other... like. make them literal narrators. that's my pitch
so. one interesting pattern that has come up with my approaches to these rivalries is that with the exception maybe of the 2015 stuff, I feel like I'm more naturally inclined to treat valentino as a narrative device and centre his rivals. a big part of this is that valentino is a fantastic narrative device. he's kinda. this looming presence in every narrative in this sport where you can just sort of use him as a sort of way to poke away at all these other riders. the monster everyone loves who you are trapped with. BOO!! he's gonna eat you! which is fun! but ALSO, crucially, several of these rivalries aren't that emotionally challenging for him!! again, with casey right, he wants to beat him, but he's not having a crisis of faith over losing to casey. he thinks casey is annoying, he wants to beat him because he wants to win. valentino is casey's foil, but casey is not valentino's. valentino makes for an excellent personal antagonist to casey, but the reverse just isn't true. casey isn't forcing valentino to reexamine his approach except 'ramping up the levels of being a dick on-track' - like, yes, that's a serious competitive challenge, but also valentino is very comfortable in his own skin in that rivalry. sure, you could have valentino have some kind of massive revelation about the casey rivalry, but like. he doesn't in canon. he changes his behaviour towards casey in pretty predictable ways depending on what the relationship demands from his perspective at any given time. there's nothing more there
now, obviously you know where I'm going here. there IS a rivalry where you can make the argument he changes as a result of it, there IS a rivalry that tips him over the line and makes him to do stuff he hadn't done before that, there IS a rivalry that happens to coincide with a period of his competitive life that challenges him both personally and professionally. now, look, I have already talked about the sete rivalry. you know what I think about this rivalry - and if you don't, I really already have told the story here and here and here and here and also here. I think this works perfectly well as a narrative in its own right, and it's one you can tell from either perspective... but you kinda need both. I think again you probably naturally lean towards starting it from sete's perspective and that first proper meeting (I mean, idk if it is their first actual meeting, but it's the logical obvious place you start this story) with sete giving valentino advice during his first 500cc test and valentino just, y'know, ignoring him and being a cocky shit and then crashing. so you get to see sete being kinda exasperated by the whole thing. also, obviously ibiza is like, a key framing device here, like it's the most obvious in-your-face way of tracking their relationship with each other. I don't actually know how often they partied there together, but it must have been at least twice and if the commentators are to be believed it must have included 2003. artistic license and you can add one or two more times, but mainly you want to focus in on 2003 onwards right. so you've got this 2002 one where it's, y'know, high point of their friendship and in the name of narrative efficiency, you establish here that sete is looking to make the honda switch. the emphasis is on how valentino has been winning everything but on the flip side you're getting the first insight into his discontent. and there's a bit of a vibe of, what could you possibly have to complain about? like you are winning so much? so it's late one night where they've had this slightly unguarded alcohol-fuelled moment of genuine vulnerability but in the end it's actually characterised by how... unsubstantial the link between them is, because they wouldn't talk about this kind of thing with each other and they might both be similar in some ways but also don't gettttttt each other. it means you can return there as a location in 2003, where you've just had sachsenring and valentino's dramatic loss but they're still partying together and it's like. obviously In The Air that not everything is quite right... their relationship is already gradually altered and twisted because you're introducing this element of actual stakes and competition (obviously in 2004 they do NOT spend that time together, as far as we know anyway, and you can show them being very much not together at ibiza as a very obvious Oooh Things Will Fall Apart and maybe already haveeee)
and I do think basically I've already said what I think the themes here are,,,, several times by this point, so I'm not going to belabour the point. I think all of this fundamentally works as a narrative with like, minimal massaging and rearranging of the elements for dramatic effect. it's all there already, everything from sete's arc with the [insert non-tasteless way of covering a real life tragedy that fundamentally alters the course of sete's career] and how that leads to sete becoming the challenger and how he does want to win and his eventual downfall. with valentino, you have the element of liberation and self-discovery and... well, growing into your own but also kinda having the narrative drawing attention to how 'growing into your own' can involve becoming a fully realised character who is essentially quite cruel? you have this kind of... build up, right, towards this moment of revelation, where you lay bare who these two people actually ARE at sepang 2004, and then again at jerez 2005. valentino has gone his own way, he has freed himself from the chains of honda, he has embraced individualism and the chance to define himself and his own legacy and stand on his own two feet and not rely on the strongest bike or all this stuff within honda where they chose him as their flag bearer, for better or for worse... like he comes to his own here! he takes the step from 'great rider' to 'legend' because he gets to this dramatic moment of stepping into the unknown, he takes this massive risk that could have cost him so much, and it ends up elevating him. but it also puts him under duress, and in that moment he reveals himself - whatever sete did or did not do at qatar 2004, EVEN IF sete did all that shit, what you are left with is valentino vowing to ruin this man. valentino uses sete to make himself 'better', to fuel himself as a competitor. valentino turns sete into a tool in his own story. and again, thematically you've got all this stuff about how sete was managing the image of the rivalry and how valentino took advantage of that - how sete needed it to remain respectful and valentino was completely willing to abandon that. like, you have two protagonists who really are similar in quite a few ways, who think they have this shared understanding with each other, but when it comes down to it? they end up being super painfully different
now I can go on about this and how to play it straight, basically, you can just do that rivalry and I think it'd be cool and fun and very easy to arrange in a good narrative way. BUT I've kind of already. done that. like I don't want to suggest a film that is basically a nicer version of my tumblr posts. so I want to take this in a slightly different direction, and I think what we need to consider with this rivalry is this: what if you made the curse literal? basically, what's always kinda charmed me about this rivalry is that the curse should not work and all the misfortune that befalls sete after that is so comical that it's kinda... what do you do with that? and the answer is you just lean all the way in. my pitch is this: what if valentino sells his soul to the devil?
so, you know faust, right, and you know the bit at the start of goethe's faust where god and mephistopheles are basically making a wager over how corruptible this one human is. and faust is like... he's kinda disillusioned, he feels that everything he's dedicated his life to in academia is fundamentally hollow, gets very close to committing suicide. and faust has gone a bit new age-y, gotten into all this mystical shit and he's got this pentagram that ends up preventing mephistopheles from leaving his presence in their first meeting... and basically what the devil can give him is like, the chance to attain some true pleasure, and for that faust is willing to bet everything - so if faust can just have that, then maybe eternal damnation is worth it. and look, I'm not going to summarise the entire plot of faust here and it does go off the wall a bit with all the gretchen stuff, but the point is you have this version of the devil who is fundamentally a cynic and is attempting to win an argument with god by making this human succumb to his own nihilism. and what faust basically does is like, abandon his normal life where he's trying to live by normal virtues and goes off on this journey with the devil. and there's this little moment where mephistopheles,,, pretends to be faust and takes on the role of an academic adviser (you know how it is) and seduces this random student away from the word of god and sends him down a wretched path, which ends with this bit:
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like, a big part of faust's tragedy is supposed to be about... well, hubris, of the relationship of god to man, of no longer being afraid of the devil... and obviously, this is all framed very much in terms of religion, but at the end of the day it's also about, you know, having purpose - faust is living a life that no longer has any meaning to him, all of his knowledge and studies now no longer fill the void inside himself. his nihilism opens the door for mephistopheles, and is what makes him willing to accept the devil's terms. now, and I am so very sorry to goethe here, I think we have some material we can use here to explore the valentino/sete rivalry. obviously, you can't do a one-to-one, you need to get rid of some of like, the depression and all that - there were times when valentino was feeling 'a bit low' in 2003, but not 'faust thinking everything he'd done in his entire life was pointless' low, yeah? also, unless you want to do a real long view here and even then it can't really be justified, there obviously isn't really a 'tragedy' here from valentino's perspective. like, he wins! this isn't valentino's tragedy, it's sete's! I was being a bit facetious when I said he was 'selling his soul to the devil', and you can kinda parse mephistopheles' motivations in different ways depending on what flavour and what interpretation of him you're dealing with here. you don't 'damn' valentino, you essentially just turn him into a tool of the devil!
so, this is how this works out in my head: the devil works more broadly as the manifestation of competitive impulses, the kind of 'how far would you go to win' question as a bloke who shows up and literally talks to the characters about it (magic of cinema). he's also engaging with valentino feeling like his victories no longer having meaning, with being disconnected from honda and from the entire culture there and just feeling like he's going through the motions. there's this element of like... opening the door to what is essentially a journey of self-actualisation, bringing him closer to being a 'god' but also allowing him to fully come into his own and become himself. to win on his own terms. I reckon ibiza is my preferred narrative device where the devil talks both to sete and valentino there (separately), first literally as a mysterious stranger and then... maybe not? he's talking to them at times of their lives when they're not at ibiza and it's not happening there in the physical world and they both end up kinda having to confront they're dealing with some potentially malevolent supernatural entity. but the important elements of the devil is that a) he's not going to do anything the humans don't actually ask for themselves, and b) everyone knows he's following his own agenda and you should be careful of the requests you make of him. so it's kinda like... essentially, the backdrop of this rivalry unfolding is they're constantly being challenged to decide what lines they're willing to cross. which culminates at qatar... and maybe you do have sete making like. a teensy mistake. a teensy error in judgement, one that is both real and deliberate but he could not have known would get that reaction and instantly regrets. and valentino, who is I think inherently sceptical of the devil coming to offer to help him and maybe does crank out the pentagrams (remember, the whole point of faust is that he was too arrogant to be scared of the devil, or one of the points anyway), in a moment of fury does decide - no, actually. I will take that step. I will curse sete. now the thing is, dramatically this is a teensy bit tricky because when you're talking about being damned by the devil, usually the consequences are a bit more severe than 'not winning a motorcycle race again' (yes, you can get into how sete did also seem genuinely cursed after that, cf his ambulance/bus crash situation, but again we are flirting with being in poor taste in this tumblr post). but the thing is, right, you have to lean into the silliness here! qatar 2004 is inherently silly, a CURSE is inherently silly, like real life is already silly here! you have to engage with the people where they are, and for these athletes all this shit is so heightened that the emotions are full on. like, valentino would've sold that guy to the devil! and to him not winning another race is basically the worst thing that can happen
so, obviously, you get to do the actual curse stuff. curses are inherently campy fun, the devil doing curses is campy fun, getting valentino rossi to crank out the pentagrams is inherently campy fun. you get to play around with this, right, like you know that bit in the brno 2005 race commentary where the commentators are talking about how valentino might as well have a little radio to talk into sete's helmet to remind him of how sete had fucked up at the sachsenring. OBVIOUSLY obviously obviously it is just so... idk scrunchy and fun to have this idea of valentino becoming a malevolent enough force to literally do that.... like damn the commentators did kinda eat with that?? ughhhhhh do you ever think about sete leading the qatar 2005 race for most of the way???? like that's SO fucked up because you literally have articles from about the race going 'hey maybe sete can break his curse' and then the commentators are talking about curses having one year expiration dates but obviously they!! do not!!!!! there's one race where sete goes off track and the commentators are talking about how valentino will surely have smiled into his helmet like that's so fucked!! it's so fucked!! but idk I think basically you have all this creeping curse-y stuff and devil stuff and then you get this twist and then it just becomes misery zone for sete until you sort of. compress the timeline and have him retire without getting into what happened at the end of 2006. and valentino just relishing in all his very worst emotions. and you've got sete who was the better man after jerez 2005, who took the high ground again and again and again and it did NOTHING for him.... and then he's cursed and his career is finished and the devil has had his fun getting mixed in with mid noughties motogp. and now obviously this is inherently kinda dumb and corny and silly but it's the devil!! mephistopheles to me is allowed to get up to dumb shit sometimes, let him have some fun!! idk I like curses being literal idc
I think the obvious critique here is 'this doesn't really feel like it gets the message of faust'. which, yes, is true - and obviously the way narratives are structured, a satisfying resolution isn't 'well selling your soul kinda slaps, actually'. and my statement to respond to this argument is as follows:
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this is essentially canonically what happened. valentino DID do something kinda evil and it DID work out 100% for him and it DID kinda slap. at least when you add in the devil, you're making explicit the bit where it is a little bit bad. also, is sports not inherently about selling your soul for success... the story of valentino and sete is essentially about how we are twisted by competition, how pretending that we don't wish ill to our opponents is inherently dishonest. it is about lifting a facade for something that is already inherently there in the souls of men. this is obviously inherently a deeply cynical stance, but this is also a deeply cynical story beyond all the fun battles and camp dramatics. the devil is a cynic and he is basically the point of view character of goethe's faust - he's the one who is positioned closest to the audience. sports is all about living out some of humanity's worst instincts in a relatively low stakes setting, which means we get a free pass to have fun with a deeply cynical story that goes 'maybe selling your soul to the devil is fine, actually'
do I stand by this stance? not really, but the whole fun of storytelling is that sometimes you can just be kinda mean. I think goethe would get it... you can tell which character he enjoyed writing the most
the OTHER way you can do this is centre everything around qatar 2004 as like,,, the mystery box element...... okay look I have now made two posts that go WAY too deep on the 'what really happened' element but I do loveeeeee the whole thing like I would just make a film about that very end of the season and we show it from all these different angles as different characters narrate what happened... like fuck all the riders I want to hear from whichever mechanic used the scooter... the gresini mechanic who gave evidence to race direction.... various honda higher ups the crew chiefs like this is jb vs juan martinez it's war!!! obviously you still have the same emotional/thematic hooks as the general rivalry does but idk I would have a LOT of fun figuring out how to structure that, I loveeee mysteries... maybe I'd write it as a mockumentary yeah..... this one's just fun
anyway. a lot of stuff going on in this post, huh! you can probably tell I didn't edit this much. my classic tell when I edit my tumblr posts is I remember how 'paragraphs' work. unfortunately all I have energy for are like. a bunch of rants about things in my brain. I think when tumblr tells you that you've reached the maximum number of characters per paragraph and you need to figure out where to put a break, it's probably a bad thing? on the whole, my stance is I don't have anything AGAINST mildly fictionalised versions, but for me I'm always more of a.... well I want to take advantage of the full specificity of the events as they happened or just come up with a completely original story. kind of person. I know this ask probably wasn't looking for my 'what if you bled out valentino as he's strung up above a red motorcycle' vision but yeah. with a lot of biopics I'm always a bit 'well you could just read about this couldn't you' like I need stuff to take some kind of a stance on the material it's using... all my stuff takes a stance. that's all I've got. obviously all these stances mean that basically none of these things could ever be made. and I know what I said above but if they called me up to write the casey stoner biopic script treatment, I would also do that. if you've actually read to this point, give me a shout - you're a real one and I love you
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