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#this isn't to say we shouldn't do it again its to say this is a testament to how much i love you. but also. no. no I still dont like video
theminecraftbee · 1 day
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Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?
He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--
--then turns a corner and leaps back.
"You," Wels hisses.
Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.
"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"
Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.
"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.
On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.
"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."
The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!
Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.
"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."
The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!
...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.
He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.
"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.
I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.
"What," Wels says.
The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.
"What," Wels says again.
Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.
"Dude," Wels says.
I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.
Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.
"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.
You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.
"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."
Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.
"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.
That makes it worse, Helsknight says.
"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."
Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.
"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."
I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.
When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.
"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.
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If they announce a s4 I genuinely might have to log tf off. I don't even want to see what sort of dumpster fire it would be. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic, but I don't see much hope for it being good or worthwhile. I'm going to rant in the tags so if you disagree with my opinion thats cool you can just ignore me and continue scrolling :)
#h talks#I've said before yk maybe I'm wrong and there will be one and it'll be amazing but the chances are so so so so slim#what show can you think of thats been rebooted 9-10 years after it ended and been Good and didn't Fuck Everything Up?#cause I can't think of very many#reboots and remakes are the death of creativity and entertainment. some things need to be left alone as they are#like again if it was Perfect that would be great. but theres so much room for disappointment#to me there are very few plot points they could follow that would be Good#theres no point in having a plot about them being tracked down because they Shouldn't be caught. no one wants them in jail#and if they DO get caught? what was the fucking point . like it completely undermines the og ending#I don't see any reason to bring in Clarice. mostly because her character was blended with Will's a fair amount so they'd have to change her-#personality and canon plot a Whole bunch. which isn't bad per say but ... yk again whats the point of having her if she's not Her#so then ok maybe we focus on Will and Hannibal honeymooning together and killing and cannibalizing people and being on the run#Great Wonderful thats probably the best outcome. except.... its already been done so many times in fic that ppls expectations are HIGH#and do you Really expect something like that to air and not cause insane fucking discourse and then get cancelled?#do you WANT to invite an entire new group of even more annoying people into the fandom so we can rehash the same fucking debates about-#queerbaiting and age gaps and ethics? fuck no#ok end rant lol
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inkskinned · 4 months
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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".
it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.
do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.
but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.
do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).
you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.
walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.
no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.
do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."
you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.
there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.
i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.
he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."
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tobiasdrake · 2 months
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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luveline · 4 months
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Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?
fem, 1k
“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 
Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 
“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 
“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 
Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 
“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 
Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 
“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 
“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 
“Here they are now.” 
You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 
“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 
He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 
“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 
He frowns at you. 
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 
“I don't shake. Sorry.” 
You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 
Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 
“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.
You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 
“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 
“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 
“Hey.” 
“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 
“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 
You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 
“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 
There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 
“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 
“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 
“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 
His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 
He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 
You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”
“I see.” He waits. 
You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 
“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 
You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 
“Was she messing with me?” 
Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 
"Oh... She's nice."
"You have no idea."
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riediaries · 4 months
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the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.
you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.
you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.
"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.
"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.
"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.
you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.
satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.
"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.
you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.
you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.
this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.
satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"
you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.
"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.
you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.
you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.
"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.
he hums, signaling you to continue.
"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.
as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.
"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.
"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.
he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.
it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.
he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.
"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.
"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.
"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.
giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.
"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.
"no–"
"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.
what a rough future you'll be expecting.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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silent treatment
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words: 900
warnings: drug dealer rafe, established relationship, arguing but its very fluffy throughout and never actually serious
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl
“rafey, are you almost done?” you ask, causing him to turn his head to look at you for the first time since you both entered the party and parted ways for rafe to do business.
“come here, baby.” rafe beckons you closer, so you cross the line of people waiting and take a seat on the couch next to rafe. “what's wrong?”
“nothing's wrong, i just miss you.” you pout, lacing your fingers through rafes. “i know you're selling right now but i thought we would be able to hang out tonight.”
rafe looks at the line of people waiting, then down at his stash. “im almost sold out, yeah? think you can wait ten more minutes?”
“can i sit here?” you ask, and when rafe nods you curl up against his side. he has to shake your hand loose as the next person walks up, buying some drugs that rafe would never in his life let you touch, but had no problem selling to other people.
you busy yourself with playing with a loose strand on rafes shorts as the packets in front of him dwindle down to only one small baggie of white powder left. rafe pockets it, shooing the rest of the people waiting away, telling them to come find him at the next party.
just when rafe finishes counting the money and you expect to get up and actually enjoy the party with your boyfriend, barry takes a seat on the armchair across from you.
“how was tonight?” he asks.
“sold it all, kept a baggie for myself.” rafe splits the money and hands most of it to barry for getting him the supply, pocketing the rest for himself.
“im getting a new shipment in tuesday-” you stop listening as they start to talk business again, linking your hand with rafes and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. you begin to stroke his arm with your other hand, craving any sort of attention from him.
“baby, stop, you're distracting me.” rafe says, pulling his hand out of your grip.
“sorry.” you whisper, looking between barry and rafe, wondering how much longer they're going to take.
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask, knowing rafe doesn't care about others seeing your pda so he shouldn't mind, he's let you sit on his lap in the past, he's even pulled you onto it himself.
rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead before sitting back, pulling you onto his knee so you're purched on the edge.
you groan, knowing that this isn't what you asked for as you turn to frown at rafe.
“baby, why are you being so clingy tonight?” rafe asks, pulling you by your waist into him so your side is pressed against his chest.
“im not.” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
“yeah, you definitely are. won't even let me talk to barry for ten minutes without getting all whiney.” rafe says, a small smile on his face, but it doesn't placate you, it just annoys you.
you stand up, moving away from rafe and leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wants with barry.
--
“baby, you didn't talk to me all night, please don't give me the silent treatment again today too.” rafe says, attempting to press a kiss to your shoulder, but you just move away to continue making pancakes. rafe keeps his eyes on you as you move about the kitchen.
you plate your pancakes, leaving the rest for rafe to get himself if he wants them and walk into the dining room. you're glad for the music you put on to drown out the silence at rafe sits across the table with his own plate.
you eat without looking up at him, somehow able to keep yourself quiet.
“so you're giving me the silent treatment but still made enough pancakes for me?” rafe asks.
you simply shrug, getting up to finish your pancakes in the kitchen.
“here, let me do the dishes.” rafe comes barging into the kitchen, interrupting you from beginning to clean. you simply shrug and walk away, not even giving him a thank you. you listen to him start to clean up, snickering silently at his grumblings to himself before heading upstairs to get changed.
“what are your plans for today?” rafe asks when you reemerge downstairs, wearing a simple outfit of leggings and a t-shirt. you give rafe a pointed look, one to reinforce the fact that you are not speaking to him before walking away.
rafe leaves you alone for a few hours when he is in the home gym working out. you peak through the glass doors a few times to admire his sweat sheened muscles, but don't let him catch you and go back to scrolling on your phone on the couch when he starts to clean up.
“im gonna go shower.” rafe calls as he passes through the living room. “care to join me?”
“no.” you call back.
you hear rafe stop in his tracks, halting and turning back to face you. “you just talked to me.”
“that doesn't cou-AHHH!” you shout as rafe jumps over the couch, dropping his body over yours as he presses kisses to your face, your phone long forgotten as it falls to the floor.
“im still mad at you, fuck off.” you say, but giggle the entire time, unable to resist his kisses.
“baby, you can tell me to fuck off or that you're mad all you want, just never ever give me the silent treatment again, i was going crazy.” rafe presses your lips together in a kiss and you give in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“it sounds like you're the clingy one now.” you grin at him.
“absolutely.” rafe nods in agreement.
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glitterquadricorn · 21 days
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spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid
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+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.
a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.
"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.
"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."
"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."
"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.
She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.
"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."
The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.
The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.
Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."
"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.
"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."
"Get to the point, y/n."
"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."
Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.
"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.
---
I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.
tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119
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emeryleewho · 1 year
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I've noticed that people take writing advice way too literally and then get really mad about it, so here's a quick guide of what the typical "bad' writing advice is actually trying to tell you.
[Note: you don't have to take literally any piece of advice. It's just there for your consideration. If you hate it, leave it and do things the way you want. But the reason all of this advice is regurgitated so often is because it has helped a lot of people, so it's okay if it's not for you, but it may still be life changing for someone else.]
Write Every Day
"Write every day" is NOT supposed to be a prescriptivist, unbreakable rule that dictates anyone who doesn't write literally every day isn't a real writer. It's supposed to be a shorthand way of saying "establish a writing routine. Get used to writing at certain times or in certain places or in certain patterns, both so that you can trick yourself into writing even when you don't feel like it by recreating certain conditions, but also because if you only write "when you're in the mood", you may never get around to finishing a project and you likely won't be able to meet publishing deadlines if you decide to pursue publication."
The point of this advice is basically just to get used to seeing writing as part of your daily routine, something that you do regularly. But if you decide you can't write on Tuesdays or weekdays or any day when you have certain other activities, that's literally fine. Just try to make it a habit if you can.
2. Show Don't Tell
"Show don't tell" DOES NOT AND HAS NEVER meant "never state anything plainly and explicitly in the text". Again, "show don't tell" is a shorthand, and its intended message is "things tend to feel a lot more satisfying when your reader is able to come to that conclusion on their own rather than having the information given to them and being told they just have to accept it." It's about giving your reader the pieces to put the puzzle of your book together on their own rather than handing them a finished puzzle and saying "there. take it."
So if you have a character who's very short-tempered, it's typically more satisfying that you "show" them losing their cool a few times so that the reader can draw the conclusion on their own that this character is short-tempered rather than just saying "He was short-tempered". Oftentimes, readers don't want to take what you tell them at face value, so if you just state these sorts of details, readers will push back against that information. People are significantly more likely to believe literally any information they are able to draw conclusions on without being told what to believe, so that's where this advice comes in.
3. In Medias Res
This one is so often misunderstood. "In medias res" or "start in the middle", DOES NOT MEAN to literally start halfway through your plot. It also DOES NOT MEAN that you should start in the middle of an action packed scene. It just means that when you start your story, it should feel like the world and the characters already existed before we started following them. It shouldn't feel like everything was on pause and the world and characters only started acting the moment the story begins.
This is why starting with a character waking up or something similar can feel jarring and slow. We want to feel instantly compelled by your character, and the most efficient way to do that is [typically] to have them already doing something, but that something can be anything from taking a shower to commuting to school to chopping off a dragon head. We just want to feel like the story is already moving by the time we enter.
4. Shitty First Drafts
The idea that you should let your first draft suck and not revise it as you go is a tip presented to combat the struggle a lot of people have with not being able to finish a draft. If you find you've been working on the same first draft for five years and barely gotten anywhere, you might want to try this advice. The point is to just focus on getting to the ending because finishing a draft can give you renewed energy to work on the book and also makes it easier to get feedback from readers and friends.
That said, if your story is flowing fine even as you go back and make edits, then don't worry about this. This is advice specifically designed to target a problem. Likewise, this doesn't mean that you can't clean up typoes when you see them or even make minor edits if you want to. It just means not to let yourself get completely bogged down by making changes that you never move forward.
A "shitty first draft" also doesn't mean that your story has to be completely illegible. It just means that you shouldn't let perfectionism stop you yet. I see a lot of people say "well, I can't keep going until this first part makes sense", and that's totally reasonable! Again, the point of this advice is just to get you out of that rut that keeps you from making progress, but if you spend a couple weeks editing and then move on or you find the book is still making forward strides while you edit, then you're fine. You don't need this.
5. Adverbs
The idea that you "shouldn't use adverbs" DOES NOT MEAN that any time you use an adverb, you're ruining your story. It just means that you shouldn't *rely* on adverbs to carry your story, namely in places where stronger verbs or nouns would do a lot more heavy lifting.
For instance, you can write "she spoke quietly", but generally speaking, that "quietly" there is a lot weaker than just subbing out this clause for "she whispered". You probably have the word "spoke" all over your draft, so subbing out one instance of it here for a stronger verb in place of the same verb + an adverb makes for stronger prose. This doesn't mean that you'll never want to use the phrase "spoke quietly" over the word "whispered". For instance, if I write, "When she finally spoke, she spoke quietly, like that was all the volume her weakened lungs could muster." In this case, I'm using "spoke quietly" specifically *because* it echoes the previous spoke earlier in the sentence, and it evokes a certain level of emotion to have that repetition there. I also used it because she's not actually "whispering", but trying to speak at full volume only to come off sounding quiet.
So when people tell you to cut adverbs, they're saying this because people often use adverbs as a crutch to avoid having to seek out stronger verbs. If you're using your adverbs intentionally, having considered stronger verbs but ultimately deciding that this adverb is what does the job properly, then there's nothing wrong with using them. This is just a trick to help you spot one common weakness in prose that a lot of authors don't even realize they have.
6. Write What You Know
This is potentially the single worst-underestood piece of writing advice. "Write what you know" DOES NOT MEAN to write only what you know or that you have to put all of your life's knowledge on the page. It just means that drawing from your own experiences and already there knowledge will help you craft a better story.
So, for instance, being an eye doctor doesn't mean you have to write a story about an eye doctor. It doesn't even mean you need to write a story that directly deals with any eye knowledge. It just means that there are likely things you've experience as an eye doctor that can help inspire or inform your story. Maybe you remember a patient who always wore the same yellow shoes, and so you include a character who does exactly that. Maybe you spent a lot of hours dealing with insurance so you decide to write about insurance agents. Maybe your practice was located next to a grocery store so you decide to write a zombie apocalypse story that takes place in a location inspired by that shopping center.
The point is that, as people, our lived experiences allow us to relate to other people and craft more believable worlds. So don't limit yourself to your lived or experience or feel obligated to only write the things you've done, but when you find yourself wondering what to write about next or how to give a character more depth or how to describe this random location, pull things from your life and let what you already know bring a certain level of unique you-ness to your writing.
And the MOST important advice I can give you is to stop looking at writing advice as some holy, unbreakable rules passed down by the gods that you cannot ever deviate from. And if a piece of advice sounds totally bonkers, do some research on it. There's a good chance that whoever's passing it to you has no idea what they're talking about. But even if every other writer swears by a certain piece of advice, you absolutely do not need to take it. Try it on if you want, and throw it away if you don't, but stop making yourselves miserable by letting random internet people dictate your life. Most people giving advice on the internet aren't where you want to be anyway, so don't expect them to be able to guide you somewhere they've never been.
Everything's made up, and nothing matters. Write what you want.
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arabian-batboy · 7 months
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Its disturbing how Zionists are trying to so damn hard to convince the world that Palestinians are currently on a huge raping campaign on innocent women and girls everywhere, even though there are literally ZERO evidences so far of ONE case of a Palestinian raping or stripping any civilians (and I mean real evidence, not bigots saying its true on twitter), they simply willed it into existence by merely saying it over and over again and thinking that's enough to make it into a real concerning fact
But do you know what has been proven as a legitimate fact for decades on the other hand? Thousands of Palestinians men, women and children being systematically violated and raped on a regular basis by Israeli settlers with no consequences or sympathy from the international community.
Like we literally have videos of Israeli soldiers on camera laughing about how many Palestinian women they have raped and multiple photos and videos of Palestinians being stripped naked and beaten by soldiers. Right now there's even a video of Israeli soldiers pissing on a dead naked Palestinian man on twitter which isn't being shared around or talked about half as much as much that one video of one Israeli woman allegedly being "stripped" to a bra and shorts, even though it has already been debunked by now that she was already wearing just a bra and shorts when she was captured and that neither she nor any other Israeli hostages have suffered any kind of sexual abuse by Palestinians (as you can see by how good they're being treated in this video)
It's really remind me how White supremacists in Europe have started this propaganda that Muslim refugees shouldn't be allowed Asylum because they're here to rape European women and that rape rates in Europe will sky-rocket by their mere existence, even though again, there are zero evidence of refugees committing sexual crimes (or any crimes) on a higher rates than local citizens. In fact, in some European countries and the US, it has proven that Muslim-majority neighborhood actually have the lower crimes rate compared to their counterparts.
One thing is clear here, it seems that it doesn't matter where they live, all White supremacists (especially Zionists) have the same exact trick when shit hits the fan and its: claim that "savage brown men are coming to rape your delicate white women! So you need to kill them before that happens!" each time the people they're oppressing are standing up for their human rights.
-
Palestinians made a document that contains templates for letters to US, UK, & Canadian politicians, media outlets, and companies in relation to current events in Palestine as well as petitions & other resources. If you live in any of these countries then please select a template, edit it to your preference and send according to the instructions on the relevant page.
Here is a link to it (please share it): https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-RUOHHiEtr7uoclQgWN-tCWOihnHIp5hym89aNePi_E/mobilebasic
Aside from that, please protest, support the BDS boycott and spread awareness as much as possible.
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Note
AITA for letting my dog correct (nip) my niece to prove a point and refusing to punish him?
I own an ex-K9 called Biggles. Biggles is impeccably trained, a total gentleman when you're not being an asshole to him, but also has no time for your bullshit. He'll tolerate a lot more hassle from the younger kids in our family, but if they're allowed to persist in bullying him, he will correct them, just like he would the adults of the family.
Mostly Biggles will just push them over and walk away. Its his way of saying to leave him alone. Sometimes he'll bark loudly, a kind of 'fuck off now' bark. At the very extreme, he'll give them a tiny little warning nip on the arm or hand.
(Biggles has only ever nip corrected kids twice in all the years I've had him. Once when my cousin thought it was 'cute' to dump her toddler right on top of Biggles and let him rip at his fur and try to bite at his face, and once when my nephew was having a tantrum, Biggles tried to snuggle up to him to soothe him and my nephew hit him in the face.)
I firmly believe in learning how your pet communicates and respecting their reasonable boundaries. To me, if you're yanking on a dog's tail and ignoring everyone warning you to stop and you get a nip to the back of the hand for it, that's a valid consequence of your actions and you've just learned to respect the dog enough not to try pulling its tail out of its spine.
(This likely seems unfathomable to a lot of you, but I must clarify that Biggles isn't some hyper-reactive aggressive, dangerous dog like my sister thinks. He will more than happily play around with the little ones, faux wrestle with them, let them paw all over him and fuss at him, ect. He loves children, they're his babies. He does not love being in pain, and if the person causing it will not respect him or me enough to listen to my warnings, I believe they earn it when he warns them too.)
Anyway. Like you might've guessed, yanking on his tail was what my niece was doing at the beer-and-barbeque this weekend. I told her not to. My parents told her not to. Even my sister half-assedly suggested 'maybe Biggles wants to play a different game.' Biggles got up and moved away from her twice and she followed him both times to 'keep playing.'
My entire family knows how Biggles works. I warned my sister Biggles wouldn't tolerate what was happening. My sister told me I shouldn't own such a dangerous, unpredictable dog and he should be put down if he can't handle some 'rough love from a kid.'
(This was not rough love. This was my niece literally ripping at his tail thinking his pain responses were funny.)
I didn't want to cause a scene or subject Biggles to further harassment so I decided just once I'd cave and take Biggles inside so he could get some peace and I could enjoy my burnt ends without my sister squealing in my ear about being cruel to her child by telling her off.
Unfortunately, Biggles' patience ran out before I could make my way over. My niece yanked at his tail again, hard enough that it actually jolted him on the grass, and Biggles whipped around and nipped at her hand. I got to see her hand afterward and there was just a little red mark, no blood or broken skin. He'd just pinched her a little.
My niece screamed bloody murder like he'd taken her hand off and my sister screamed bloody murder about my 'vicious animal.' It devolved into a massive family-wide argument against my sister because my entire family knows its just basic respect and kindness not to cause an animal pain deliberately, and that its my sister's fault for not listening to anyone when we all told her and my niece not to hurt Biggles.
My sister stormed off and has since been blowing up the entire family demanding that Biggles be put down. She's threatened to call the cops, animal control, you name it. None of us are worried about that. There wasn't even a proper mark left on her hand and Biggles will pass any behavioral test with flying colors, but my sister is giving everyone grief and is refusing to attend any family events if Biggles will be there.
My dad is firmly on my side, but my mom is imploring me to just fake apologise to get some peace back. When I recounted the story to my colleague this morning, he said she got what she earned, but also why would I bring Biggles to an event I knew a disrespectful little shit of a kid was at?
I don't feel like an asshole in terms of allowing my dog to establish his boundaries. In my and my family's opinion pets are their own entities and should be treated with belonging and respect when part of a family. Its also just common sense not to cause an animal pain for the fun of it.
However, I'm also very aware that getting nipped by a dog, especially at such a young age, can be catastrophic. My niece could be terrified of dogs for the rest of her life, and while I don't feel guilty she got corrected, I do feel somewhat guilty that I didn't intervene sooner and have possibly set her up for failure in the future. And I do feel like an asshole for letting it get to that point, but it did all happen pretty quickly.
All things considered I do love my niece, she's family, she just gets away with murder because my sister thinks being a little girl is an automatic pass to do whatever you want without consequence.
I've probably painted Biggles out in a real bad light here, but I can assure you that in general Biggles is the perfect family dog. He's loving, playful, he tries to share his kibble with everyone at dinner, he helped us teach my uncle's puppy tricks and how to behave and potty outside ect.
So I guess I'm really asking am I the asshole in this situation, as the one responsible for Biggles?
What are these acronyms?
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teatreeoilll · 4 months
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Give it Back - Gojo Satoru X Reader
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w/c - 0.6k content - fem!reader, mentions of drinking, kissing, hidden inventory trio being a lil drunk and silly at a party outside of Jujutsu High, first kiss, drabble
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2006
As Geto playfully twisted the empty beer bottle between his fingers, you briefly recall how, no less than half an hour ago, he scoffed at the thing when someone held it to his face - proposing a game of truth or dare.
"Spin the bottle? What are we, twelve?"
As the game started, the cozy circle you were sitting in expanded quickly, taking up most of the space of the living room. You groaned at the sight of another couple of students pressing their lips together, sloppily intertwining their drunken tongues to the sound of lewd cheers and woos.
While you weren't eager to join the game, only looking for a place to sit and let your drunkness subside, you found yourself squashed between a stranger and Gojo's lanky limbs. "Move a little, won't you?" You slur, trying to ward off the nausea while watching a dot of light flicker on the spinning bottle's surface. The bottle halts, its now aggressive-looking bottleneck pointing straight at you, with Geto's intoxicated smirk on the opposite end. "Truth or dare?" Geto beams in your direction, his mind already preoccupied with all the devious things he could ask you to do in front of the group. "Truth," you sigh, eliciting the group's displeasure over the music. "Pick dare, coward," someone mocks, triggering your drunken pride.
"Alright then, dare." "Kiss the person on your left." Geto muses. The mere thought sends shivers down your spine. It's not that you've deliberately dodged from having your first kiss until now. But still, after surviving so long without one, shouldn't this moment be a touch more significant? "Can't you just dare me to eat something gross, Suguru?" you chastise, utterly unaware that on the left, an angry pink blush flushes Gojo's face. "It isn't such a bad dare," Gojo whispers, leaning in as soon as you turn to him in confusion. Without missing a beat, he softly pressed his lips against yours, leaving the crowd in stunned silence. You detach yourself from him with a soft grunt, using a shaking hand to push him away. The silence in the room persists as you step out to find solace on the porch, fixating on the raindrops cascading onto the driveway. "Satoru, you idiot." Shoko scolded sharply, her voice cutting the air from her spot near Geto, "That was her first kiss." His eyes widened in response, his hand instinctively shooting out to shove himself away from his spot on the floor.
- "I'm sorry." Gojo leans on the porch rail beside you, "I thought you were being shy." He lied, too proud to admit that the possibility of you not wanting to kiss him troubled his drunken mind. "You can't both apologize and imply you did nothing wrong, Satoru." "Come on, if that were true we wouldn't have politics." His attempt to lighten the mood was met with your displeased scoff. "I'm sorry," He utters again, a hint of sincerity seeping through, "How can I make it better?" You steady your gaze back to the rain-soaked driveway, taking a moment to contemplate before delivering the verdict, "You can give it back." "Huh?" He blurts as you grab the collar of his white shirt, yanking him closer to crash your lips onto his. Still recovering from the surprise, he cups your face with his hands, catching a quick breath before parting your lips with his tongue. "It's mine now," you say triumphantly, a mischievous smile grazing your lips as you watch Gojo fix his now-ruffled hair, "I'm freezing; I'm going in." He lets out a small chuckle as you approach the entrance, only to grab your face with long, skilled fingers, planting a chaste peck on your lips. "'S mine again," He declares, rushing to the door before you, "Come and get it."
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hopelessdazai · 13 days
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✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?
╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)
╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; @saelique angst collab!! dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784
╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.
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To my dearest ______ .
It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.
what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?
though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..
but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!
oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!
... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.
I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.
i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.
have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.
I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.
I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.
i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.
I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.
keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.
I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.
sincerely, your osamu.
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luveline · 10 months
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Hello! 💕 I love your work!
May I request a small drabble where Roan is at a stage when she's so fascinated with reader's makeup and outfits that Roan wants to copy her mom's style.
Thank you!
thank you for your request!! I know you sent it in April but I hope you can enjoy regardless! dad!eddie x fem!reader, 1.8k
Roan is trying to be respectful. She really, truly is, but this is her chance. She can hear you in the bathroom talking to her dad where he's sitting with his back to the closed door. Eddie hadn't paid Roan any mind when she walked past him into your room, because Roan isn't badly behaved. Well, usually. 
She knows she shouldn't touch your things without asking, but she just loves how you look before you go out with your friends —you'd traipsed down the stairs yesterday afternoon in a casual dress and flats with your make up all shiny and dewy and pretty— and she wants to look pretty too. 
She looks through your make up bag cautiously. She doesn't want to break anything. Eddie's laughing loudly now, and the door must be ajar because your voice is louder. You're telling a story, and Eddie's eating it up, he's practically shouting he's laughing so much. Roan stands up to go and investigate, but then she thinks maybe she won't get to do this again, so she sits back down and picks up a lip gloss. 
Roan jumps as you get out of the bath, a plastic pulling sound like skin rubbed against porcelain ringing down the hall. She's on high alert, and she's scared of being caught, and she definitely didn't think this through. She grabs your make up bag and flees to the wardrobe, throwing open the doors and climbing inside. She shouts the door behind her, holding her breath in the dark. 
You walk into the bedroom, Eddie on your tail. 
"I don't think you should hang out with her anymore," Eddie's saying, his voice still laden with laughter. 
"By that logic I should've stopped hanging out with you a long time ago," you say. You squeal like you've been pinched, adding, "A long long time ago."
"Yeah, you should've. Do you want to go anywhere, or are we putting our pyjamas on?" 
There's thirty seconds of relative silence and then sound. A plastic lid from your body butter, the bedside table lamp being turned on, Eddie coughing. Her dad's been sick this week, a cold Roan miraculously didn't catch. She made sure to give him extra cuddles and he healed up pretty fast. Roan the Healing Balm, he called her. 
"Nowhere," you say finally. A drawer rolls on its hinges. "Did you want to–" 
"Nah, just wondering. We need crackers for Ro's lunch tomorrow and toilet paper, but we can get those in the morning. That smells nice, what one is that?" 
"One you got me, uh, mandarin and something. Ylang-ylang?" 
"Smells good."
"You want some?" 
"I'm okay." 
"No, come here." 
Roan holds your make up bag closer to her chest. She pushes the door gently to widen a slit so she can spy on you. You're in pyjamas now, a towel wrapped around your hair, sockless and climbing onto the bed where Eddie's lying. He sits up. Roan's worried she'll be caught, so she lets the door fall back into place.
Mattress springs shift, and Eddie says, "It's cold." 
"Your arms are sooo long," you say simply. There's a smacking sound like a kiss. "And kissable! Who knew?" 
"I love you," Eddie says warmly. 
"I love you too…" There's another kiss. "You're pretty." 
"You're pretty," Eddie says. 
"Want a hug?" 
Eddie doesn't say yes or no. Roan peaks out through the gap again to find you kneeling at the end of the bed with your arms around his shoulders. He rubs your back, his tattoo looking darker than usual from the moisturiser. 
"Where's Ro?" you ask quietly, kissing the top of his head. "Maybe she wants a hug too." 
"She's being really quiet today," Eddie says, "I think she's up to something." 
You kiss his head again and peel away, brushing a curl from his eyes as you say, "You always think she's up to something. Your dad sense is on the fritz." 
"Probably. Hey, have you seen my big hoodie? I was thinking I'd take her out for a bit, push her on the tyre swing and burn off some mischievous energy." 
"Gonna wear it over your pyjamas?" you ask. 
"Duh." 
"I think it's in the wardrobe. If it's not in there it's in the laundry. I'm gonna go find my girl," you say. 
"I'll be right there," Eddie says. 
Roan holds her breath again as he approaches. She knows she's busted but she can't help trying to hide anyways, burying her face in her knees, hands around her legs, your make up bag lost in the folded jeans beneath her. The door creaks slowly, and Eddie gasps. 
"Oh, holy shit," Eddie says. "Holy sugar. Hey, babe, what the heck are you doing in there?" 
"What?" you ask. 
Roan lifts her head, a pout on her lips that begs for forgiveness. Eddie grins as soon as he's recovered from the shock of finding her, and you're wide-eyed from behind him.
"Well, there's my girl," you say, resting your hand on Eddie's thigh as you crouch. "Watcha doing? Who are we hiding from?" 
Eddie crouches down next to you, and you both look so happy to see her that Roan figures she might not get into trouble after all. Now that she can see, she picks up the stolen make up bag and offers it back to you. 
"I just wanted to try," she explains. 
You and Eddie look at each other. 
"Well, you shouldn't be in mom's things," Eddie begins, gently scolding as you accept the bag.
"All you have to do is ask, Ro," you finish. 
"I want to look like you," Roan says. 
Eddie smiles. "Come on. Get out of the wardrobe, babe, before we close you in." 
You elbow him as Eddie gets his hands under Roan's arms, helping her out of the wardrobe. She doesn't need help, but her dad is super strong and has her sitting on the big bed before she can blink. You follow with your make up bag in hand, sitting down with an excitement that wobbles the mattress. 
"What do you want, babe? Lip gloss?" 
"And the sparkly eyes," she says. They're imperative. 
"Oh, good choice," you say. 
You shuffle closer to Roan and pull out the white square of eyeshadow, flipping it open. There's lots of colours inside, but the best in Roan's opinion is a white that shines baby pink in the sun. Roan tells you what she wants, and you have her close her eyes, leaning in to take her chin into your hand gently. Your breath fans over her cheek. "Keep your eyes closed, lovely girl." 
Roan squeezes them closed.
"Not that closed!" you laugh. 
Roan relaxes. Carefully, softly, you pat eyeshadow onto her eyelids with your fingertip, humming little affirmative sounds under your breath. 
"Good girl," you murmur, blending the ends out with what feels like a different finger. "Just sit still, one more second." 
More patting. Roan tries not to move around, but her excitement has her shaking. After a few more moments you lean back. 
"All done, babe. You can open your eyes." 
Roan opens her eyes wide, the light nearly too bright. Eddie sorts through the stuff in your make up bag, interested, bottles and brushes clinking together. "Oh, hey," he says, lifting a tube up, "this colour?" 
It's the red-pink colour that Roan yearns for. She nods eagerly and you hold out your hand. You unscrew it and bring the applicator to her lips. Roan pouts, which makes you and Eddie smile in tandem. She has no idea why. 
You put a little bit on the centre of her lip and spread it out with your pinky finger. Roan is totally relaxed by your lap. 
"I need the shiny one too," you say. 
Eddie shuffles through your things and procures a clear lip gloss. "This?" 
"Yes, please." 
Eddie hands it to you and you uncap it deftly.
"Rub your lips together, baby," you say, demonstrating. 
Roan rubs her lips together. You brush the clear lip gloss on top of the pink and tell her to rub her lips together again, before smoothing a little bit of moisturiser over her face with kind fingers. You trace the heart of her face down to the chin and beam at her. 
"You look so pretty," you say, falling into the bubbly voice you and Eddie don't use so much anymore. 
Roan's chin dips inward shyly. Eddie pulls a compact from your bag and shows her the mirror part, and her chin quickly lifts. A blush rises to her cheeks as she turns her face one way and then another. 
"What do you think?" Eddie asks. 
Roan nods a bunch of times before she answers, not wanting to tear her gaze from the mirror. "I look beautiful," she says. 
"Yes, you do! You always look beautiful," Eddie says. 
"I need to put my dress on," Roan says firmly. She gives herself one last look in the mirror before sliding off of the bed and out of your reach. 
She races off. 
You and Eddie look at each other while she's gone, two pleased, stickying smiles. "She's so easy to please," you say. 
"No, you just spend the time with her. She loves you." 
You push your hand across the bed toward his thigh and lean on it, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Want me to do yours, too?" you offer. 
"Definitely. I'll hold off on the dress, for now. I don't think I have one that'll fit." 
You lift your chin for a kiss. "Good idea," you say against his lips.  
"I'd look good though, right?" 
"You'd look amazing. You have the thighs for it." 
"I do, don't I?" he asks, pleased. 
You have your face on Eddie's leg when Roan comes back, his arms splayed across the length of your back, as though you've collapsed in on one another. She does a spin in her second nicest dress. 
"Do I look like you, mom?" she asks. 
You smile like you've won the lottery. "You look a thousand times more beautiful than me, sweetheart." 
Roan laughs and does another spin. Eddie hums unhappily because you're just as beautiful, but he has to admit that his girl looks good. 
"Let me grab the camera," he says. 
For once, Roan doesn't grumble. She poses for pictures and makes sure she has a bunch with you, too, even though you aren't wearing anything so nice as she is. 
"I'm gonna have that one printed," Eddie says after a flash.
"No you are not!" you say.
Eddie and Roan share a look. He's definitely having it printed. 
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! please think about reblogging if you enjoyed and have the time ♡
more eddie, roan and reader
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a-dinosaur-a-day · 8 months
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Opinions on owning pet parrots? I'm doing a degree in animal welfare and have pretty much come to the conclusion that the smaller species are fine if you can provide what they need but the larger birds like the greys, outside of being rescues, shouldn't be pets at all.
Okaaaaaaaay so time to make everyone mad at me again I guess
parrots have been human companion animals for longer than Judaism has been around, so, I don't think we can just say "it's wrong" and force everyone to stop doing a thing that's been done for that long. Like, this isn't a human randomly taking home a tiger, this is a long going process with many species of parrots now being near-domesticated in the strictest sense of the term
Parrot ownership is in fact ancient in many "tropical" areas and the idea that it's a new thing is... white supremacy! what a shock!
in the United States (I am not talking about other countries, just my own), literally no companion parrots are wild caught anymore. They're bred. Bred as companions. If we were to outlaw larger parrot ownership, many birds would be without a home, and that's morally reprehensible
in fact, the kind of backlash against parrot ownership that's risen up in the past decade has directly led to a shelter crisis. most shelters are overfilled and overstressed, which is a *lot* worse for the birds in many cases than home ownership
parrots are pets that have extraordinarily high care needs. They are not good pets for everyone. but no pet is! Every single companion animal has its pluses and downsides, and many of them have many more downsides than pluses. Doesn't mean they shouldn't have a home.
There are some people who are actually able to take care of companion parrots, adequately, in their homes. First of all, we've learned a lot in the past few decades. Second of all, there are lifestyles that work well with even larger parrots and their needs.
So, while the number of human beings on this planet who can adequately take care of large parrots is extremely small, it is not zero. Which means if someone thinks they can take care of a bird well, and has the space and resources and time, then they should be allowed to, if that's what they wish
Because birds in the USA are bred as companions, the vast majority of said parrots would be unhappy in any situation that doesn't involve close contact with humans. Admittedly, all my parrots are "small" (whatever that means), but I know for a fact that if you took them away from our home they would be significantly worse off, because they're bonded to us. That's how this whole flocking thing works
Also, our most recent rescues, who had been stuck in a shelter for 15 years, are definitely happier now getting more individual attention and space. Shelters are supposed to be temporary places for most birds, not permanent homes, because they can't get the adequate level of care and attention that they need.
also, I'll point out that being pets has allowed many parrot species to have thriving populations that are not threatened by climate change, which is something to their benefit. given. you know. climate change. not that pet ownership is conservation, but, it's not that far removed from it - the axolotl population owes a lot to both pet ownership and zoo captivity, for example.
like, it's a spectrum, right? And it doesn't really go along with size, at the end of the day. There are tons of extremely neurotic and high needs small parrots, and many larger ones that are exceptionally chill. So while the vast majority of humans on this planet should not have a parrot, that's not all of them; and while the number that can handle higher maintenance ones is even smaller, its not zero. And I think, given the fact that we have all of these captive bred birds in the states at least, it's not a good idea to tell people that there is no way to ethically practice husbandry with them.
and I'm not the kind of person who assumes I know everything about someone's life in order to tell them "no you shouldn't bring home that cockatoo", so I'm not going to. In fact, I give everyone on the internet the benefit of the doubt if they have a parrot unless a) that parrot shows signs of distress (like plucking) or b) there is clearly something wrong going on (like someone's smoking weed around their bird)
so, no, there's no commonly kept (and thus domestically captive bred) bird I think is a bad pet for every single human on the planet. And it's not my business whether a particular individual should or should not have a particular bird.
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reiderwriter · 6 months
Text
◇ Now That I Found You, Stay ◇
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Chapter 11 of That's What You Get
Summary: A long, overdue conversation is finally had.
Warnings: smut, minors dni 18+, fingering, vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, creampie, breeding kink, marking etc. Spoilers for Season 7 of Criminal Minds, episodes "Hit" and "Run."
A/N: And next week is the end of our journey! If anyone is interested, I can answer any questions you have about this series and its ending/ what I'm planning for after this, etc. in my inbox this weekend! I'm really thankful for everyone's support so far! 11 down, 1 to go!
As always, you can find my masterlist here, and my requests are currently open!! <3
You weren't expecting him to be so very prompt, but after hearing the panic in his voice on the phone call, you really shouldn't have expected any less. 
Taking in his appearance, you were almost sorry that you'd caused such an upset. His eyes were darker than usual, a look of no sleep crossing his features, but he still stood hypervigilant in the doorway. Almost as if he were scanning you for injuries or harm, he drank you in. 
"You're wearing it?" The words fell from his mouth before either of you could say hello. The second his eyes locked onto the ring on your hand, it was suddenly the only thing he could think of. 
You could see him biting back further questions as he waited for you to invite him in. 
"I'm wearing it. That's okay, isn't it?" You asked, glancing up into his panicked face as he tried to make sense of the situation. 
"Yeah, it's… it's okay, yeah. Why… why are you wearing it?" He asked hesitantly, blinking a lot as he waited for your answer. You pulled the door further open and waved him in with your arm. He stepped into the immediate space but didn't move in further, as if he were scared to go in too far for fear he'd be led straight back out again. 
"Listen, Y/N, I know I should've told you, and I'm so sorry, and-"
"I know." 
"No, you don't. You didn't remember anything when we woke up, and I was so scared that I'd forced you into it, that you were going to regret everything, and-"
"Spencer," you grabbed his attention, flattening your hand on his chest as you forced him to focus on your words. "I know." His rambling ceased as he tried to sus out your meaning, obviously coming up blank of the furrow in his brow was anything to go by. 
"Penelope was here. Thank you for that, by the way. Penelope was here, and she showed me this video she took." Your hand lazily stroked over his chest, settling into place over his heart, where you could feel the organ desperately thumping, trying to make its way to you. 
"I heard that being presented with photographic evidence of an event can spark memories of it. I guess that worked for me." You sighed and took a step towards him. 
"I know how much you love me because you told me." 
Since watching Spencer's Chapel confession, glimpses of the night had been falling into place, puzzling out the entire story. 
You remembered being in the casino with him. He'd taught you some special tricks for the card games, and you'd laughed in delight as you'd raked in the cash. You hadn't done as well as him, but you knew you never would. 
You remembered how you'd left hand in hand, him pulling you out of the casino, away from an angry security guard, who obviously had questions about his sudden luck. He'd pulled you into am alleyway, and you'd stood there, laughing, chests heaving as you grew closer, finally wrapping around each other in joy, your lips meeting as if it were something they always were meant to do. 
He had flushed beautifully as he'd pulled away, so concerned that he was taking advantage of you. He whispered his love to you into the small space between your skin, under the influence of alcohol or cupid or something that made him brave for that second.
You remembered the way he'd tried to take the words back, and you remembered just as vividly how you'd refused to let him, smile growing to the point where your cheeks had felt tired. 
He'd kept talking, though, and you remembered every word he said to you. 
"You know I have this recurring dream," he had started. "I used to have bad nightmares, but now it's a dream. I wake up in bed, and you're there. We eat together, we get ready together. We go to work together. We are together. Is it weird I have dreams about being married to you?" His eyes had flashed with panic for a second before you'd pulled him down for a kiss. 
"Okay." Your voice barely a whisper, your nose pressed against his.
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, I'll marry you. It seems like a lovely dream." And you had, and it was. 
You focused on him in the present again, looking up into his eyes as you connected your other hand with his. 
"Spencer, it was a lovely dream." His eyes soften as he breathes a sigh of relief. 
You pull back for a second, leading him out of the doorway, before turning on him. Plucking the ring from your finger, you drop it into his palm, closing his hand around it. 
"Oh. I understand, I… I get it, if you don't want this-" 
"Spencer, what I want is a question." You sink to the floor, pulling him down with you until both of you are on your knees. 
"Now that we're both sober, I want the question. I distinctly remember you not exactly asking last time." It took him a few seconds to understand, and you squirmed as you waited for him to finally give you what you needed.
"Oh." You laughed at his dumb-struck expression, still acting obviously for him to ask you to marry him. 
"Oh, right, okay. I'm sorry, I thought I'd be better at this." He fumbled the ring in his hand for a second before offering it out to you, clutched awkwardly in both of his hands. 
"Y/N, will you marry me?" The anticipation bubbling up in you spilt over as you threw your arms around him, tackling him to the floor as you shouted yes as many times as your breathless lungs would allow you. 
The ring is forgotten underneath the two of you somewhere as his lips attach themselves to yours, stealing even more of your oxygen while giving you life. His hands pulled you in by your waist until you were a mess of limbs on the floor, wrapped around one another. 
He pushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear when you finally broke apart, drinking in as much air as you could. 
"Great, because I don't think I could go back to the nightmares." 
"And I don't think the title divorcée suits me very well, Spencer. This is mutually beneficial." He laughs as his lips draw yours in again, using his body weight to flip your positions, quickly but carefully lowering you to the ground, kissing every inch of your face as you curiously roll your hips up into his. 
When you try to come up for air again  he doesn't let you, pushing your shoulders down as he sucks love bites into your collarbone. 
"Spencer, how…How should we tell everyone? It's going to be a shock, right?" You tried to keep your voice steady  but even you couldn't control the reactions you were having to this man's touch.
"I have some ideas," You feel him smile into your skin as his head slopes lower and lower. The top of your dress was low enough that his head could graze the tops of your breasts without having to disturb much, and you weren't sure if you wanted an answer to your question or his undivided attention more. 
"Care to enlighten me?" You asked as he planted a final kiss to your chest before pulling up and off you slightly. 
Picking up your hand, he delicately brought the inside of your wrist to his mouth, kissing it tenderly. 
"You could walk into work with this on your hand," he said, pushing the ring back onto your finger. The cool metal and his warm touch sent shivers down your spine as you dedicatedly watched him make his way across your body. 
Back at your neck, he spoke again, softly. "I could mark you up, nice and good, until everyone knows what an obedient little wife you are." His tongue flicks over a particularly sensitive spot, and you moan as you squeal into the touch. He spends some time there, making companions for his earlier love bites. 
Letting his hands trace lower, he finally ghosts a finger across your clothed pussy. With just a few mere touches, you're putty in his hand, whimpering his name helplessly, your arms wrapped about his neck. 
"We could do it that way, too. Those motel room walls are always pretty thin. I'm sure one scream of my name and the entire team would know." Your hips buck up violently into his own  and you're surprised at your sudden lack of self-control. 
You moaned for him, waiting for him to give up his teasing and give you what you really wanted. 
His hands remained ghostly, though, and you almost cursed in frustration. Pulling your dress up, he was swift and agile, hands falling to your bare hips once he'd made sure you were displayed to him. You moaned as you tried to buck your hips up into his hands again, but he caught you before you could. 
Instead of meeting you where you wanted, be pushed your dress even higher, head moving lower to begin pressing kisses over your stomach and lower. 
"Or I could knock you up  and we can for you to introduce the baby with my last name. Really let everyone know just what a horn little slut you are for me." you contemplate grabbing a fistful of his fair, but his lips are back on yours in a flash, and you gasp as you feel him finally push your panties to the side and let his fingers dive inside of you. 
"Or I could give you a real wedding. Claim you right there in front of everyone. 
"I could take thee, to be my wedded wife," his hands slipped deeper into you still as you moaned underneath him. 
"To have and to hold," his other hand dropped to rub your clit as he kept his eyes locked with your own, mouth wide with arousal, trying desperately to prologue this pleasure and not come undone so instantly on his hands. 
"From this day forward, for better or worse," your mind goes blank, filling with his voice and only his voice. 
"For richer, for poorer," he pulls his fingers away for a second, and you moan in protest. 
"In sickness and in health," he sits you up in his lap, ridding you of your remaining clothing as he drinks in the view of your entire body. 
"To love and to cherish," he kisses you again, so soft and passionate that you are almost surprised when his dick slips into you from under you. 
"Till death do us part." He rises to his knees, holding you up in his arms as he begins thrusting into you, hard and fast. 
With his attention so wholly on you and your pleasure, you come undone in a matter of moments, Spencer still finding his rhythm as you stutter around him. 
"Good girl, you're doing so good for me, milking my cock like that." He doesn't slow down as you give yourself over to him, just stroking your hair as you readjust to all the touches you're receiving. You claw your hands into his back as you start getting over stimulated, trying desperately to retain hold of your sanity. 
He's pounding into you too desperately to sustain your position, quickly pressing your back into the floor once again, spreading you once more, and continuing his ministrations. 
Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, desperately holding on for fear that letting go would mean losing him again. You feel your nails break the skin of his back as you scratch, claw, grip.
"How about we do all of that?" He grunts in your ear. "I'll give you whatever wedding you want  I'll give you the world. If you let me breed you like a nice little whore." You moan his name in response, your entire body growing rigid again as his words build another climax inside your stomach. 
"Let me mark you and show off who you belong to." You remember the feeling of his cum shooting into you, and suddenly you find it is everything you've ever wanted.
"Fuck, Spencer I'll do anything, please just don't stop." 
His mouth finds yours again as his hand finds its way to your clit again, and suddenly your hips are jerking up and down his cock as you cum. 
He isn't far behind you, not bothering to pause his movements at all as he spills his seed inside of you, pushing it in and letting it leak out of you, your collective fluids pooling under your ass as he gently calms his movements.
Holding himself like that on top of you, your breaths sync, and even as you're both gasping for air, looking into each others eyes is enough to spark more laughter. You're all tenderness and love, and and filled with him. 
He doesn't bother to pull out, simply making sure your legs are tight around his waist and your arms are tight around his neck as he hauls himself to his feet, warming his cock inside you as he hauls you to the bedroom. 
Finally pulling away, he lays you gently on the bed, taking notice of where the carpet has bitten into your back. He slips his cock out of you and retreats to the bathroom, no doubt seeking out cleaning materials. 
When he rejoins you on the bed, he rubs your cunt lazily until you're cleaned up, but you grab his hand and urge him to keep going, before pulling him back over you. 
The remainder of the night is restless as you make vows back and forth with every clash of your bodies, mouths hot with the need to prove your love for one another. 
You finally get to wake up in his arms the next morning. He hasn't left, and you certainly didn't kick him out. You watch him peacefully for as long as you can before he stirs, and the two of you have to ready yourself for a day's work.
"We should tell everyone as soon as possible, right?" You say as you both climb out of the shower. Sharing it saves time, he'd said, but it hadn't been quite as efficient as he'd made it out to be. 
Towelling off his hair, he replied. "Honestly, most of them already know." 
"Wait… the witnesses!" You gasp as you remember what it is that you still didn't quite remember. "I know Penelope is one of them. Who was the other?" You demanded, whirling around on him as you brushed your teeth. 
If you take everyone you'd talked to so far at face value, that left only three options. 
"We're going to work soon, right? Maybe you could figure it out. Profile your second witness, perhaps." You scowled at him and threw a towel half heartedly, resisting the urge to stomp childishly when his phone begins to ring. 
"Hotch," he answers, growing serious once more. "Yeah, we're awake, I…. Where? Okay, be there soon." He hangs up quickly and turns back to you. 
"Will's partner was just killed as they responded to a call about a bank robbery. They want us to consult apparently, it's still in prog-" His hurried words are cut off by the even more hurried shrill of your phone. 
"Hotch, yeah, I know, I'm… I'm with Spencer." 
Hotch's voice is silent on the other end of the line for a second before his familiar stern tone sounds into your ear. 
"We'll talk about that after we get everything settled for now, just get yourselves into the office." 
You, too, hang up, and, with your husband, you make your way to the crime scene. 
--X--
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