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#everyone else seems to be fine with it so I don't want to be mean and say -hey maybe you should change the blue
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WIBTA if I reported my classmates for potentially breaking traffic laws?
I (17F) am a junior in high school for just juniors and seniors. This means we're in our last two years of school and more or less everyone is 16-18 years old.
In one of my classes, there's 3-4 (I don't know the exact amount since I'm partially faceblind) guys who are all friends. I've only spoken with one of them outside of class, who I'll call Flame, so I don't know their sense of humor or anything.
Whenever I've spoken with Flame outside of class, it's always been because we leave our shared class in the same general direction, and he catches up to me after 2-3 minutes of walking in the halls (crowded). This doesn't happen a lot; I've gone about a month now without speaking a word to him, and it's only happened maybe 10 times in total over the past 3 months?
I was initially alright talking with him, but on my second or so time ever talking to him, he breezily mentioned how he got in a physical fight with a friend and was sent to the hospital for it, but "broke [his friend's] arm so it was fine" and laughed about it. He's also cheerily mentioned and detailed how he ignored his girlfriend for a whole week, causing her to break down over the weekend, because her dad didn't approve of the relationship, and he was hoping she'd "forgive him soon". He's also told me that he was being investigated for a "false claim of sexual assault"?
In all, he scares me, but I try to not let this get in the way of my judgement of him since he's not entirely bad (offered to share his umbrella a few times when it was pouring, seems pretty passionate about sports).
Onto the main point, today in class, I overheard one of Flame's friends suggesting, pretty loudly, that he get a license plate cover (or something like that, I didn't remember the details) so that Flame could get away with speeding too so that he wouldn't be late for work. They laughed about it, and although I didn't catch Flame's response, he seemed pretty positive about the idea? I estimate from what he's told me that Flame has had a license for about a year by now.
I usually wouldn't consider reporting someone for doing something that only affects themselves, but driving is something that impacts others pretty significantly.
However, I'm not entirely sure it was a serious suggestion, if Flame actually plans to do it, nor even if Flame's friend uses the license plate cover. I'm also unsure how much it will impact Flame's future. He's been accepted by a college already and is going to be playing a sport for them, he just needs to pass his current classes to graduate. Notably, he's also southeast asian, and I'm unsure of how bad police officers here are since I'm white and haven't ever interacted with any. I think the government here generally has a slight conservative lean, though there's also a more poc here compared to other places in the US (~50% of people in general, ~75% of people at my school), if that changes anything.
Overall, I don't want to ruin his life over nothing, but I also think speeding could easily ruin someone else's life if he's doing it.
WIBTA if I reported him (and/or his friend(s) if I learn their names) via anonymous tipline for potentially speeding?
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sparrowrye · 2 days
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 30
Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.
Previous part
Part 30: gone
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I woke the next morning to an empty bed. Alastor's presence wasn't near but the bed still felt warm where he had been. He must've left in a hurry but for what? Normally I would've just went back to sleep and asked him about it later.
But something was off about this, something wasn't right.
I quickly jumped out of bed, falling harshly on my knees from my still lack of energy, and went to my room. I changed as quickly as I was able and went into the haven. The morning sun was coming over the treetops and the first few set of workers were already up and about. I made a beeline for Angel's hut where I know Husker should be. I felt his presence and pushed on it, at the same time knocking on the door. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long as he came padding quickly to the door.
"What is--"
"Alastor's gone."
His tiredness faded. "What do you mean he's gone?"
"I mean he's gone. Our connection it's...it's like before. I don't really...feel it." I was struggling with ways to describe it.
"Where have you checked for him so far?" he asked next.
"Just the house and down here. I'm going to check with Rosie but maybe you can ask Charlie? I have a really bad feeling about this."
He let out a sigh and fixed the strap that had fallen off his shoulders. "Alright. I'll go over and ask. He's probably fine."
"Why does everyone keep discounting what I'm saying?" I half mumbled as I spun away. I melted with Alcine and ran up to the back of the house. I stood over the symbol and teleported myself into Hell, right outside Rosie's store.
Her store was closed but I did the exact same thing I did with Husker, impatiently waiting at the back door. When I explained everything to her, a look of worry finally came across someone's face.
For the next several days, I looked for him. His radio broadcast remained ever silent and our connection remained thin. It was impossible for me to reach him like I had before with Blackwater. He wasn't anywhere in Hell or on the surface. He was just...
Gone.
My panic over Alastor possibly being in the hands of any Angels was somewhat soothed by a conversation with Lucifer. He told me that Angels didn't have power to hold souls in purgatory - that was essentially his job in a way. He also revealed a conversation he had with Heaven. Well, with Adam.
Apparently, Heaven has been upset with how rampant Demons have been on the surface, a place where they naturally didn't belong. They've been arguing for years but nothing was ever done about it. Angel refused to let people know they existed because only their high father could control such events.
It didn't make sense to me.
Regardless, Alastor wasn't in danger with the Angels. That meant he must be somewhere else. Yet there were only two realms. So where was he?
Husker told me that it wasn't uncommon for Alastor to go missing every once in awhile. Apparently he did this right before he helped Charlie with her hotel. The only issue with him disappearing for some time was that he didn't tell me. Considering how we had been the night before he vanished, I had thought he would tell me he would do such a thing, or at least leave a note of some kind.
Perhaps I was wrong.
For the first year, I kept radios in every room tuned to his channel and a single one tuned to random channels. Maybe he would give me a sign through them. Maybe this was something he couldn't tell me for safety reasons. Surely he would want to give me a sign of some sort, a sign that told me I wasn't being abandoned. The only clarity I had of the situation was that he was alive since I was still alive.
The second year I turned some of the radios off and left one on for each floor. I still slept in his bed, wishing and dreaming that he would magically be there when I woke up the next day. Each morning was a disappointment. It was around this time that the hallucinations of him began.
By the third year, everyone had known that the great scary Radio Demon had disappeared. Our location had been leaked by one of Blackwater's men so Humankind and Demonkind alike came after our haven. While the remaining surface Overlords, or anyone wanting new territory up here, tried to attack and disband Blackwater's empire, I was focused on keeping the haven safe. At first it wasn't hard since it was relatively small groups that bit off more than they could chew, however, as time went on, people started bringing in huge groups and powerful Demons.
By the fourth year, I had truely pieced myself back together as a new woman and established myself as the guardian of the haven. I killed enemies, struck deals with new allies, and taught newcomers a thing or two about fighting. The hallucinations came to a near stop.
By the fifth year, the haven had expanded even more. Arleen, who was our lovely architecture and seamstress, was never seen resting. She had gorgeous red wings that mimicked a butterfly's and her personality was as sweet as nectar. She designed a new layout for the rest of the town—though, now it could really be considered a small city. We had multiple teachers, Vivian remaining as the head of them all, several healer apprentices for Althea, a few seamstress assistants for Arleen, an open pasture for cattle, plenty of fishers, many more guards, and so much more.
With the haven expanding and having new things, I also wanted to change my own living place. I painted the outside of the house a more vibrant maroon and fixed the shingles so they didn't look so tattered. I knew the house had belonged to Alastor's mother so I didn't want to change it too much should he return at some point. Reagan and Lucas occupied Husker's old room since Husker and Angel moved to their own secluded apartment in the haven.
My old room was now occupied by two siblings: Nym and Thatcher. They were a rambunctious pair with a thirst for adventure. Nym was six and Thatcher was five when they first came to the haven. They were also children of the ring fights and found it increasingly difficult to make the transition from the ring to the schoolroom. I began working closely with the pair since all other resources had been exhausted, and soon found myself feeling attached like I was with Reagan. Vivian and the others insisted I adopt them, mostly in an attempt to fill the empty house and gaping hole in my heart. So I did.
By the sixth year, I had completely forgotten about Alastor. I would go weeks without thinking of him. I had so much I was focusing on, so much I was keeping myself busy with, that I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Occasionally I would think of him and it would hit me hard. When that happened, I tried not to be around anyone for the whole day. It left me annoyed and snappy at everyone, even Husker and Reagan. Fortunately, Nym and Thatcher were now able to attend school without attempting murder on any of the children, leaving me with more time on my hands.
By the seventh year, things had fallen into a routine. I was still the sole protector of the haven and mother to now three children. As things became mundane, I decided to assist the other Overlords in banishing the lasting traces of Blackwater. There was still one large factory hidden somewhere and I would be the one to find it. My reputation had shifted around in the past few years but this would solidify it for good.
I had grown a lot. It was time to show everyone.
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Author's Note:
END OF ACT TWO!
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Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette
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anistarrose · 5 hours
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taz balance one-shot recs!
I've been meaning to make this post for a while now, so here we are! The majority of these are from the past three years or so, because I love a fandom classic as much as anyone, but I particularly want to shine a light on some gems from after the peak of traffic in the fandom tags! There are of course also exceptions that are older, though.
Also, April 19th-21st are Just Leave a Comment Fest, so please show these authors some love!! They're all so deserving!
a recipe for home by @journalofimprobablethings: Taako tries to cook for the first time since Glamour Springs. When things go awry, Lucretia is there to lend a hand.
Gen (Taako & Lucretia), 3.5k. Early B.O.B. era hurt/comfort centered around cooking, with a delicious dollop of sentimentality and dramatic irony on top.
Seven Times Magnus Burnsides Gave Someone A Hug + One Time He Received One by @barry-j-blupjeans: Magnus wasn't really any good at— at words. He was more of an action man. Or, y'know, a "I'll take this hit so you don't have to" man. Talking to someone about their feelings was all kinds of weird, so usually he just left the space for someone else to talk. And, well... Magnus wasn't good at words. But there's a few different ways to get his support across.
Mostly gen with some Magnulia, 8.6k. You've all heard of the classic 5 Plus 1, but obviously Magnus deserves a 7 Plus 1! I don't know how to describe it without spoilers other than being full of incredibly sweet, gentle takes on so many fraught or bittersweet moments. Super underrated, do give it a read.
Embrace the Dark by @ceilingfan5: Bookstore coworkers Kravitz and Taako get more than they bargained for when Taako tries to use his powers to fix Kravitz's migraine. But it's okay--it's an excuse for them to spend time together until one of them can nut up and ask the other out.
Taakitz, 8.9k. Modern with Superpowers AU! Super sweet interactions between Kravitz and Taako, paired with lots of fun background worldbuilding. And, of course, a very special grilled cheese sandwich.
Break This Heavy Chain by Punka_Writes: In the immediate aftermath of Story and Song, Barry Bluejeans could really use a hug.
Blupjeans and misc. platonic interactions, 2.3k. The absolute epitome of comfort food in written form, with excellent Barry characterization (and of course, he does get that hug)!
birds of a feather steal sweaters together by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: When you're a big, burly guy it seems that your clothes just become free reign for all your friends. Normally Magnus is a reasonable guy, but everyone has their limits.
Gen (IPRE crew), 1.9k. Starblaster era fluff! Everyone is written absolutely delightfully, and every time I read it I snort out loud at least twice.
Security by @ceilingfan5: Barry has finally made it--his incredible scientific discovery has landed him a huge fortune...and a lot of problems. The only good thing that's come of it, honestly, has been his bodyguard, Lup. (And the science. That's good also.) He's just gotta stay normal about how nice it is to have someone like Lup around, and also not perish by way of press circuit, and everything will be fine.
Blupjeans, 6k. Modern with magic AU from Barry's POV, featuring equal parts anxiety and pining. Also, it's straight-up extremely funny.
Lonesome Dreams by @jerreeeeeee: Taako wakes up one morning from a nightmare, fast fading. There was a guy in glasses, and they were… somewhere high up? Something terrible happened, but he doesn’t remember. He wakes up in a wagon he’s never seen before, but it has his name on it. There’s tons of food inside, more than he’d be able to afford. And he’s alone. Thinking back to the last thing he remembers is difficult. College? No, he’d graduated. Top of his class, obviously, he remembers that. But what- what happened after? Where is Lup?
Gen (Taako & Lup), 10.2k. Everything starts out the same, except Taako remembers Lup, even if not how she went missing, and it's incredibly underrated and full of phenomenal characterization. I won't spoil how things shake out, but it's a great emotional ride and I genuinely reread it all the time.
it's my party and I'll mope if I want to by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: Taako's birthday is just another Thursday. A detective and an old friend have a different idea.
Gen (Taako & Lucretia & Angus), 2.1k. Short and so sweet! Fics about voidfished!Taako's birthday never get old, and this is one of my absolute favorites. Nailing the angst-to-wholesome ratio.
Tedious Familiarity by @barry-j-blupjeans: Déjà vu. Noun. A feeling of having already experienced the present situation. A tedious familiarity. Barry Bluejeans woke up in a cave, fresh out of a pod filled with green goop, and saddled with an unsettling feeling that he had been here before. If you had asked forty-year-old Barry if he would follow instructions left by a talking coin, he probably would have asked you what type of drugs you were on. But, y’know, fifty… two? Fifty-one? How old was he? Fifty-two sounded right. But, y’know, fifty-two years old Barry didn’t really have that many other places to turn, so this couldn't be all that bad.
Gen, 4.1k. Missing scenes based off Barry's decade alone, written in such an effective style, where all the little details truly make it. Mandatory reading for fellow Barry angst enjoyers.
Angus McDonald and the Wonderland Escape Rooms by coppersunshine: When Angus gets grounded from detecting, to keep his skills sharp he becomes a patron of the Wonderland Escape rooms, run by Edward and Lydia, who quickly decide he's their new nemesis. To their surprise, Angus and the collection of weird adults he's accompanied by decide otherwise.
Gen (Angus & Edward & Lydia), 7k. Modern with magic AU, putting Edward and Lydia in the absolute funniest possible job, at which a little boy detective torments... and maybe, even gives them a chance to turn over a new leaf. I am of the opinion that Angus and the Wonderland twins have a criminally underexplored dynamic, and this fic gave me everything I wanted.
If the Sun and Moon Should Doubt by Punka_Writes: Merle Highchurch, on the brink of a bad decision.
Gen, 1.6k. Merle character study immediately before running out on his marriage. Truly the incredible characterization that Merle deserves; this was a fic that really ignited my love for him.
Greensleeves by @sgrumby: Kravitz has never seen a lich like this before, and he's seen a lot of liches. Merle is just trying to save the universe, thanks very much.
Gen (Kravitz & Merle), 2.2k. A unique and also absolutely genius Lich!Merle AU where Kravitz inevitably comes after him, and Merle is... well, the Peacemaker, of course!
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anneapocalypse · 1 day
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My eternal biggest struggles in FFXIV--and really in any game, but it matters way more when you're playing with other people--are visual perception and by extension reaction time. I have figured out just from talking to other people about how they perceive things that I simply do not process visual information as quickly or comprehensively as some people do. If I am focusing on one part of the screen I am not seeing what's happening in the other corner. When I'm looking at the party list I am not seeing my hotbar. When I'm looking at my hotbar I am not seeing the boss's cast bar. And so forth. The ability that most people seem to have to just absorb all or most of the information on their screen just by looking? I don't have that. I have to constantly, consciously be scanning all the places where I know there's important information. It is not automatic.
Which means that unless I know to look for a specific tell--like a specific cast or a symbol over my character's head--there is a good chance I just will not see it. I hesitate to even explain this to people because it sounds like I'm making excuses or not paying attention when I say "I just didn't see it." But it doesn't matter how much I'm paying attention if I don't know what I'm looking for. I will not process it, which is functionally the same as not seeing it.
And I can learn, is the thing. I know to watch for Ancient Flare in Labyrinth of the Ancients. I know that in Shadowbringers onward, where you'll get strings of really unforgiving, rapid-fire AOEs, that it's better to focus on getting myself to safety and sacrifice a heal or two and then do damage control when they let up, than to miss an AOE because I was trying to heal, and die and force another player to interrupt their rotation to rez me. It just takes practice, and there are things I won't get on the first run, no matter how hard I try.
I do care about playing my job well. I watch guides. I practice. I do my best to learn, because I love the game and it's satisfying to play well, especially as a healer--I want to be the kind of healer that when I'm in the party, you know I've got you, that if you mess up I'll catch you, and it'll be fine. Playing a support role well is very, very satisfying and rewarding to me! And so none of the above means I'm not going to do my best, or that I'm not trying to be better.
I don't get better from people yelling at me or calling me stupid. I get flustered, I lose my flow, I blank out on things that actually are obvious. I get worse.
And the all-or-nothing attitudes from that small but real subset of veteran players is just utterly discouraging. "Either you're playing your job correctly or you're sabotaging." "There are no non-obvious mechanics in regular duties." It reads to me as "Be perfect on the first try or go fuck yourself." That is a standard I will literally never be able to meet. And I'm not saying "poor me," that's not my point. Somehow I doubt that it's a standard the majority of players are able to meet--based on my own experiences playing with sprouts in many, many roulettes.
Everyone has to start somewhere. Everyone learns differently, perceives differently, no matter how rigid the rotation of their job, no matter how "obvious" the mechanics. And for someone else who's struggling I would much rather be the person who gave them a better experience in the game than the person who gave them a shittier one. I don't want to be the person who makes someone quit trying to learn tanking for six months (as someone did to me). If you need to vent about how someone sucks, fine, do it in private. And even then, you know, maybe consider how you talk about it and to whom. Are your comments going to be the reason someone in your linkshell is terrified of learning a new role? Or the reason they're excited to try?
Personally I would rather come out of a duty with a party that struggled a bit but pressed on being kind and helping and encouraging one another and celebrated victory together, than leave someone never wanting to play again.
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kittlesandbugs · 1 day
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As much as I love having the Dark Urge as a customizable player character background because Nox is my babygirl sugarplum mass murderer, I think it would have been fucking incredible to have them be a companion. You wake up on the beach and find a heavily amnesiac person also suffering a tadpole infestation. But they're pretty likeable and seem a capable fighter. Really capable. Better take them along.
They're a little weird though. Twitchy as you pull Gale out of the portal. Looking at Astarion oddly. A little too into being covered in blood. Dude seriously, you want to eat the bbq dwarf??? Anyway.
Maybe you gain their trust and they admit that they dream of unspeakable violence and have urges to commit them when awake. Maybe you take them seriously. Maybe you brush it off like everyone else. Maybe you never learn about this. But then one morning you wake up and your amnesiac is standing over a fresh desecrated dead bard.
Well fuck. Maybe you expel them from camp, wash your hands of this nightmare. But on the other hand, they're a super great fighter and you do enjoy their company. Maybe this is a one off and you can help them try to control this inexplicable urge. Maybe you think you can harness and guide this urge to suit your own purposes. So you keep them around.
Where'd they get that sweet invisibility cape? Don't worry about it. You have bigger fish to fry.
And then you get that Last Light. Will they admit to wanting to kill Isobel? I guess that depends on how much they trust you. Maybe if they don't trust you, they'll go rogue in the fight and kill her without telling you. Maybe they'll admit to it and you have a choice. Is the prize they said they're promised worth Last Light sight unseen? Or will you encourage them to not kill Isobel? Maybe they listen to you. Maybe they don't. But if they do... you might wake up with a knife at your throat. Or find them pinning down another companion. Maybe you'll convince them to resist. Maybe you can't and a companion dies.
Regardless of Isobel or potential companion murder, you have a choice to make. Are they worth keeping around? They're clearly dangerous, and it can't entirely be controlled. But it mostly worked out okay this time, right? And you do really like their personality when they aren't behaving rabidly. And if they have it, that giant monster form is sure to come in handy later when you start taking on bigger foes, right?
So you keep them and then you get to Baldur's Gate and what the fuck do you mean Gortash was besties with them and made the whole Absolute scheme together? What the fuck do you mean that pasty weird shapeshifter girl is your "sister"? What the fuck do you mean you're the scion of Bhaal, the God of Murder. I mean it makes perfect sense but... What the fuck man.
They don't know, they're as clueless as you are. They have no idea how things should proceed. So they continue to defer to you and assist as needed. Things just keep getting weirder but honestly everyone traveling with you has their own special nightmare that needs resolved so. Keep trucking.
And then you reach the temple of Bhaal. Hoo boy. Are they going to reject Bhaal after the showdown with their sister? Well, I guess that depends on your actions so far. Have you gained their trust? Did you refrain from slaughtering the Grove? Have you helped them resist the Urge at Last Light/companion problems? Then yeah, they'll reject Bhaal and everything will be fine. Congrats, they're (mostly) normal now after Withers resurrects them. The game continues normally.
But maybe you didn't do those things. Maybe they don't trust you. Or maybe you've been encouraging them this whole time in a bid to use their violence to your gains. They swear themself to Bhaal as Chosen. Jaheira tries to convince you how bad a choice this is. Maybe you finally agree this is a problem that needs to be nipped in the bud and help her kill them. Or maybe you're just that sure of yourself that you have them properly harnessed despite their fealty to Bhaal. And you help them slay Jaheira to keep everyone else in line.
And then maybe when all is said and done... They kill you and the Emperor, and take control of the Brain in the name of their Father. Because you were too blind to see that their Father was pulling the strings all along, and you were unknowingly the puppet of your own demise.
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autogeneity · 2 months
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getting increasingly annoyed about instructor saying I shouldn't compete in sparring
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it sucks so bad to know in every friendship you've ever had you were their second choice
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Moods when playing pmd explorers of darkness, I just started fully playing the game! So far I have love hate feeling towards it.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 8 days
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Now here me out… Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader x Theodore Nott jealous threesome, where they try to hog all the attention of the reader while visiting the Eiffel Tower (look it up)
Anonymous Flowers
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader x Theodore Nott!
Warnings: threesome, cussing, oral(male and female receiving), fingering
18+ Minors DNI!
Oh, honey, this Eiffel Tower is my absolute favorite. Doesn't it look great this time of year?
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It wasn't a secret that both Mattheo and Theodore liked you. However, you didn't want to choose between them and they respected that. Mostly. They'd still shamelessly flirt with you. And try to win your affections with gifts and gestures. But they always reassured you that you didn't need to choose or make things awkward.
Things were going smoothly between all of you, no mean comments to each other, no signs of jealousy minus the occasional glare when the other touched you. 
Until you got anonymous flowers sent to your dorm and texted both of them about it to see if either of them sent it. After about 5 minutes, they both showed up at your dorm. Both knocking loudly.
You opened the door with an annoyed look at how loud they were being. “What?” You asked them loudly. They both pushed past you and into your dorm, looking at the flowers. “No, come in. Make yourselves at home.” You said sarcastically as you closed the door.
You could hear them arguing as you moved to sit back on your bed.
“I didn't send these.” Mattheo said.
“Stop fucking lying.” Theodore said back to him.
“I'm not lying! Why the fuck wouldn't I want her to know I sent them?” Mattheo was getting angry.
“I don't know! I don't know your fucking logic!” Theodore was getting just as angry.
“Guys!” You said loudly to get their attention and they both turned their heads to you. “Neither of you would send something anonymously like that, we figured that out so far, geniuses. That means someone else sent it.”
“Who in the hell would send flowers to my girl?” Mattheo said as he picked up the flowers and inspected them.
“Your girl? You know damn well she's not just yours.” Theo said, taking the flowers from him and inspecting them himself.
“Can you guys stop arguing? I'm not either of yours’ girl.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh, you hear that, Theo?” Mattheo said as he looked over at you.
“She doesn't realize she's ours.” Theodore said as he looked at you too.
“Maybe it's time to show her who she belongs to.”
“I think she could use the reminder since she's getting flowers from some other dickhead.” Theodore said as he put the flowers down and they both walked over to where you were on the bed.
“What?” You asked as you kept looking between both of them.
“You're letting other guys give you attention, darling.” Mattheo said as he grabbed your chin and leaned in close to you.
“That's our job, principessa.” Theodore added, running a hand through your hair.
“It seems you need to learn that, though.” Mattheo trailed his hand to your cheek.
“Are you giving other guys attention? Trying to give other guys what's ours?” Theodore asked, moving his hand to the side of your neck.
Their touches were almost dizzying. “No.”
Theodore tsked. “I think she's lying.”
“It's fine. She won't be for long.” Mattheo gripped the back of your hair tightly and pulled your head back, kissing you suddenly. You gripped at his shirt in surprise.
“You can't just do that, Matt.” Theodore said, pushing Mattheo back from you.
“Oh, but she tastes so good.” Mattheo smiled wickedly at the other boy.
Theodore was close to saying something when you reached up and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss you. He groaned at your bold move as Mattheo moved to sit behind you on the bed, kissing at your neck. As much as both boys hated sharing you, they hated everyone else more than each other. They both worked together in getting you naked, Mattheo working on your blouse and Theodore made quick work of your skirt and panties.
He kneeled between your legs in front of the bed and started kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. Mattheo managed to get your blouse off and quickly got your bra off too, using his hands to tease your nipples. The boys each had a pretty good view of what the other was doing and it only seemed to spur them on more.
Theodore finally licked at your sweet cunt, groaning as you moaned above him, his eyes fighting to watch your face and Mattheo's hands on your boobs.
Mattheo was kissing and biting at your neck as he pinched and pulled at your nipples. He, too, was flicking his eyes between your breasts and Theo lapping at your pussy.
You were so busy feeling everything, you didn't really notice the tension between the two men at the moment. You were moaning and whimpering, one hand in Theodore's hair and the other on one of Mattheo's arms.
“Does that feel good, princess?” Mattheo asked behind you. “Am I making you feel good?”
“I'm making her feel better. And you taste fucking amazing, cara mia.” Theodore said, pushing two fingers inside you.
“Oh, god, you both are so good.” You moan, leaning your head back onto Mattheo's shoulder.
Mattheo groaned and you felt it against your back. “Let me fucking taste her.”
“Not until I got her cumming on my face.” Theodore said with a smug smirk.
“You think I'm letting you make her cum first?” Mattheo said and moved to pull you further onto the bed, completely away from Theodore. He laid you back on the pillows as he settled between your legs, attaching his mouth to your clit.
Theodore was seething, but climbed up next to you guys. He pushed Mattheo over slightly so he could slide his fingers back into you.
Your eyes rolled back as you now had Mattheo's mouth abusing your poor clit and Theodore's long fingers pumping in and out of you. “Holy fuck, shit.” You moaned, one hand flying to Mattheo's hair and the other to the sheets beside you, which Theodore saw and held your hand. He moved to kiss you for a moment before kissing and biting at your chest, his fingers never faulting. Mattheo groaned and reached a hand up to play with one of your nipples as he looked up at you between your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight and feel, already overwhelmed from his mouth and Theodore's fingers.
It was all too much and they had you cumming with a loud cry, trembling as your legs were trying to close on Mattheo's head. Mattheo relented once he noticed you relaxed a little and leaned up to kiss you again. Theodore removed his fingers too and rubbed your thighs soothingly. 
“You did so good for me, cara mia.” Theodore said.
Mattheo pulled back and glared at Theodore. “For you?” He scoffed "No, princess, you did perfect for me.” Mattheo said as he looked back at you.
“Let me feel your pussy wrapped around me.” Theodore said and brought his free hand to your cheek.
“That's not fair.” Mattheo snapped at Theo.
You touched his arm and said, “I have an idea.” They both looked at you now, ready to hear it. “One on each side. One of you gets my mouth, one gets my pussy. Then maybe switch if you want.” You say, cheeks burning at the suggestion.
The boys looked at each other for a moment.
“I want her pussy.” Theodore said.
“I'll get that pretty little mouth then.” Mattheo said as he looked at you with a smile. He helped you up onto all fours suddenly.
The boys wasted no time stripping, eager to get their hands back on you.
Theodore came up behind you, pressing soft kisses to your back before lining up at your entrance. As pushed into you and you both moaned. “ God, you feel heavenly, principessa.”
Mattheo was in front of you within seconds of that. He brushed your cheek softly for a second. “Open up, baby.” He said, interrupting the soft moment with his cock tapping your lips. You opened your mouth and he pushed in, timing his thrusts with Theodore.
“You talk like a dick.” Theodore said from behind you.
“Did that bother you, love?” Mattheo asked as he looked down at you. You moaned around his cock and he smiled, letting out a soft moan himself. “She said it’s fine.”
“She’s probably too fucked out on my dick to even pay attention to you.” Theodore said. “Isn’t that right, mi amore?” He asked you, giving you a light spank and you moaned loudly in reply around Mattheo’s dick.
“You keep moaning like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess.” Mattheo said to you.
“So quick?” Theodore teased.
You really weren’t paying much attention to the conversation with the way Theodore was thrusting inside you and Mattheo was hitting the back of your throat.
“You would too if you felt her mouth.” Mattheo said, groaning when you gagged around him.
“My cock’s a bit busy stretching out her pussy right now.” Theodore said.
Your orgasm was building this whole time and the way Theodore suddenly angled his hips had his dick hitting that sweet spot in you, making you cum within seconds, trembling and moaning around Mattheo’s cock.
“That’s fucking it, principessa. Make a mess of my cock.” Theodore said as he helped ride out your high.
“Christ.” Mattheo muttered as he slowed his thrust to not overwhelm you.
“I got what I wanted, let me feel her mouth.” Theodore said, pulling out of you and helping you get your mouth off of Mattheo before flipping you over onto your back, moving you so your head was at the edge of the bed.
“You can’t fucking take her like that.” Mattheo said, but made no complaints about the new position.
“Please.” You whined from the loss of contact from either of them.
“I got you, mi amore.” Theodore said as he pushed into your mouth, the angle letting him hit a little deeper in your throat as you gagged and teared up.
“Don’t worry, princess.” Mattheo reassured as he settled between your legs and pushed in your puffy, sensitive cunt.
You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm and the boys were so close already as well from the last position. Both boys toyed with your breasts, praising you for taking their cocks so well. You came first, it only took seconds once Mattheo started playing with your clit.
“Fuck, angel. You feel fucking perfect.” Mattheo said with some strain right before he came inside you.
Theodore didn’t last much longer as you moaned and cried around his dick. “You’re so good for me, cara mia. So fucking good.” He said as he came down your throat.
The boys pulled out of you and both argued with each other as they fussed over cleaning you up.
Whatever problems this may cause was definitely not a concern in your head at the moment as you watched your two boys cleaning you up together.
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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months
Text
no vacancy | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
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You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 
That is, until you opened the door. 
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 
“Sure looks that way.” 
"At least it's a queen?" 
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 
"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 
"–mind as long as you–" 
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
“Sorry,” you managed. 
“For what?” 
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 
“You just said ass.” 
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 
“I knew you’d agree.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 
Eventually, exhaustion won out. 
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 
“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 
“Don’t profile me.” 
“I’m not. I just know you.” 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 
“I told you to stop profiling me.” 
This time, he just hummed in response. 
“And so what if I stuttered?” 
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 
“That all makes total sense.” 
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 
“Now tell me the rest of it.” 
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 
“Yes.” 
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 
“It is.” 
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 
“Are you certain of that?” 
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 
“Okay, was it just me, or–” 
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed. 
“Spence?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 
“Well, you kissed me.” 
“I did.”  
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 
“You’re such an ass.” 
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 
You text back: okay? 
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 
You: what did u say? 
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 
You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 
Shit. 
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate?? 
Spencer: Yes 
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn. 
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 
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sarahreesbrennan · 3 months
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Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?
Genuine question.
Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.
But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.
Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.
Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.
… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.
I’m not in this to have an internet argument. I prefer to leave my anons open since not everyone has a tumblr, as @neil-gaiman says it’s an internet backwater, but a lovely one for those like myself who enjoy an essay about fictional characters! Still I will close my inbox to anons if I must. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.
I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.
In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.
Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.
Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.
I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.
I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?
I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.
If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.
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remember-the-fanfics · 2 months
Text
Gen-Z!Overlord!Reader
• Died at 18, been in hell for a few years.
• Came in after Alastor disappeared, just before Vaggie showed up.
• You were never one to follow what everyone else did. Killing, drugs, theft, or porn.
• Kept to yourself for a few months, getting use to being dead and in hell.
• Accidentally became an Overlord after you killed one in self defense.
"In my defense, she was like super creepy and an asshole. A big one."
• The souls were free but you kept your new territory nice so they didn't leave.
• You made jobs and kept the housing in better shape, only made deals to help souls.
• Gave them a job, house, and protection. You give them a limit of a few years of the deal and if they don't mind it, they can renew it.
"Well I don't want to force them to do something, its rude."
• In return, they keep your territory nice, clean, and less violent than most. Work the jobs you made and protect your little town.
• There's been occasions were you trade souls to other overlords, either the soul did something against them or just an asshole.
• The time on the contract would restart
• To every other overlord, you are a child with a knife and to much power.
• You demolished another overlord because they thought you were weak and tried to destroy you territory.
"You ass eatting bitch-"
• You let others fight for new open territory because you're fine with what you have.
• Panicked when you got invited to an Overlord meeting.
• Apparently you had enough power to be one, then you realized you actually were one.
• It was awkward to meet the most of the overlords. Not knowing who you were to begin with.
"This is for overlords only."
"Oh, I'm (Y/n). I got invited."
• Chatted with Rosie before and after it.
• Camilla likes how you run your territory but you seem so young.
• Did apologized afterwards, introducing you to her daughters, apparently you were around the same age.
• Zestial wanted to know how you took over you territory, interested on how you did it.
• You've only meet Velvette because you need some clothes. She recognized you as the up and coming overlord.
• Throwing the clothes you had in your hands away, saying you need to be in the best lastest trend of clothes.
• You were now stuck having a fashion show as she decided what look good on you.
• While not enjoying all the clothes she had you try on, you kept being nice having conversation when she wasn't yelling at everyone else.
• Velvette learned that you were around the same age so she decided that you were acquainted enough to have her number.
• Apparently it wasn't optional for you.
• You brought back way to much clothes for one person, atleast now you have style.
• Chaotic neutral energy
• Charlie meet you after she heard that you improved a part of hell, wasn't expecting someone so young looking.
"Dying just after I turned 18 just means I look young forever."
• Laughing at your own dark humor.
"Ha...ha.
• Charlie did not find it as funny.
• Told you about the hotel idea and you were right on board.
• Thought it was a good way to stick it to the man and help people.
• Vaggie was surprised when Charlie brought back a child.
• More surprised that you're the Overlord that Charlie wanted to meet with.
• Definitely said Vaggie's name wrong for the first time reading it.
• Meeting Angel Dust after he decided to crash at the hotel.
• Not knowing what he was known for but definitely heard his name from someone.
"You're a kind of actor?"
"Of the sorts."
• After you heard what he was famous for.
"Well, he'll do him and I'll do me but never do each other."
• There was an awkward silence of confusion from everyone.
• Having to explain every reference you make.
• Vaggie made jar for everytime you make a dark joke.
• Charlie has asked you why you were in hell. You shrugged, never living a truly bad life but probably just too chaotic for heaven to handle.
• You leave every few days to check back in your little town to make sure everything was running smoothly.
• You know when something happens, feeling the souls you own in a panic.
• Having to let everyone remember why you were in charge a couple of times.
• Either with your words or actions.
• Luckily Rosie just adores your mannerisms and how you don't completely turn away from her with what or who she eats.
"You could say the food was to die for!"
• She finds your dark humor funny.
• So she keeps an eye out for you, sending letters to you every few days.
• You vist her every other week to just chat, she tells you about easy territories that you could get. You say you would rather show up some punks than have more responsibility with more souls.
• Offers food everytime, you say no thanks everytime.
• Rosie would tell you all the tea about the other overlords or her own town.
• Yay! You have an allie with an another overlord by being friends.
• Also with offering truly worse souls sometimes. On a rare occasion.
• Rosie knowing when you offer a soul to her, she would take her time with it. Enjoying every bite.
• Anyway- Sinners would come up to asking for deal when they are completely down on their luck.
• But whats following a couple of rules for free house and job.
• You give them enough warning before you would shake hands then saying you would know if they even thought of fucking your shit up.
• Putting an add for Charlie's hotel in your territory.
• Charlie almost hugged you to death after seeing it.
• When Alastor showed up, the two of you would have a intense staring contest.
• He wasn't expecting another overlord here, oh wait, you're new.
• Alastor not actually taking the hotel serious, pissed you off but he was more powerful.
• Charlie having to keep you and Vaggie from trying to fight him.
"I didn't know there was a new overlord! Charmed to meet you. Whose territory was up for grab?"
"She was a bitch-."
"I know who exactly you speak of, that's good. She never had any manners."
• Watching him summon Husk and Niffty and was shocked.
• Tried it and summoned one of your workers.
• Excited that it worked! Apologetic for interrupting their day.
"Ah ha! It worked! Oh shit it worked! Sorry!"
• You and Niffty vibe on a similar level. Charmingly violent.
• Vaggie has to make sure either of you give the other one a bad idea to do.
• Husk question your age when you went to the bar. Making you do the math.
"Well I died at 18, it's been a few years so old enough."
• Gave you a hard drink which you spit out after tasting.
• You decide hard alcohol wasn't for you.
• Knowing how technology was when you died making you the most technical advance Sinners in the hotel.
-
That's enough for now, just a thought I had when working.
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messylustt · 10 months
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I really like your stories, and I had an idea. I wanted to ask you if you could write a story where for some reason some of the Spiderman, like Gwen, Hobie, Miles, Peter P. With Mayday, Pavitr, Y/n and Miguel must take a car and Y/n has to sit on top of Miguel because there is no space left, Hobie is driving and he takes a lot of potholes, so Y/n bounces a lot on Miguel and he gets hard, so you know.. it's kind of difficult for them. If you know what I mean.
If it's not a problem thank you in advance 💞 anyway don't worry 🕷️🕸️
bumpy ride — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). longer name. stuck on miguel’s lap in a car.
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“a car?” miguel asks, staring at hobie who's leaning against an old fashioned plymouth barracuda. “mhm,” hobie hums, raising his brows with a smirk. “why can't we just...you know...web sling to the evil guy?” peter asks, watching as miles walks up to hobie and the car clearly already fine with the idea. hobie pats miles shoulder, pleased. “come on...we're tryna be subtle.”
“and you think...” gwen gazes around at everyone. “...like, seven spider-people driving in a car is subtle?”
“eight.” hobie gestures to mayday who's hanging upside down in the baby strap attached to peter. miguel sighs. “we don't have time for this. just get in the car.” he begrudgingly walks towards it, making hobie's smirk widen. “where did you even find it?” you ask, beginning to step closer as well. “he probably stole it." whispered pavitr, as he walks beside you. you hold back an amused smile at this.
“nah, i di'n't steal it, mate.” hobie says, eyeing you both as everyone began to find seats. “i've always been a good cit'izen.” he watches as pavitr slips into the back, scoffing. you raise your brows at hobie, you seeming to be the last one to get in. “and you're definitely not someone who changes their personality 24/7. just for the fun of it.”
hobie shakes his head, that bloody side smile still present. “oh, i luv stayin' consistent, babe.”
liar.
when you opened the car door, looking in for room you realise that all the seats are full, gwen in the passenger seat (miguel having claimed that he really didn't want to see hobie drive up close), while everyone else almost squished in the back. your gaze fell on the closest person to you. miguel. he closes his eyes for a moment seeming to think, before he reaches for your wrist, pulling you down to sit. straight on his lap.
your breath hitches at the fast movement, your body tensing. then his breath is by your ear. “relax...what do you think i was gonna do?...break your arm?” you manage a scoff, shifting slightly so that you could a find a comfortable sitting on his thighs. “no...i thought you were reaching to shut the door in my face.”
“maybe i should have.” miguel mutters just as hobie drives off. throughout the ride your friends talk about a mixture of a plan to defeat this anomaly and how terrible hobie's driving is. and it...was pretty bad. he seemed to like the feel of the excelerator a little too much, as the car drove through radom small potholes. your hand had been gripping the back of a seat, while you occasionally bounced and were forced to shift on miguel.
miguel's grip had slowly moved to your waist, his claws digging in a fraction when you would move right along him. now at first you couldn't really feel miguel's growing bulge, one that made him slightly bare his teeth in a silent snarl. “are you trying to break my hips?” you whisper in question to him, leaning back slightly against his chest to reach his ear. he stiffened, you practically against him entirely. and god was your moving making his chest rise and fall a little quicker.
you had to stop moving so much, or... “i will if you keep moving like that...it's annoying.” he says, trying to seem unbothered. “i can't help that hobie drives like this.” you hiss quietly back. “and you know what's annoying? taking off my suit to see your claw marks.”
you shouldn't have said that, because the visual of you taking off your spider suit and the thought of you being marked by his claws made miguel's hard on grow. now he was annoyed, and turned on. extremely. he purposefully tightened his grip around your waist, now wanting to leave marks as he subtly kept your back to his chest, mouth moving to your ear. then you feel it, and your eyes grow wide in realisation.
thank god your friends were too busy talking (arguing) over something rather loudly, because miguel's hands began to very slowly move your hips along him. butterflies swarm your stomach as you hear a quiet groan in your ear, clearly only meant for you. “miguel — ” you whisper in shock and question.
“shh.” miguel whispered in your ear, your cheeks now feeling flushed. his breathing was harsh, as pleasure shot through him, feeling you rub against him, his hands still slightly moving your hips. “just a little relief...” he almost muttered to himself, but his mouth was still by your ear. “what are you...” you drift off, gulping down your own arousal at the situation, because the small back and forth rubbing of your pussy against him is beginning to make you wet.
“mm...eso es...” miguel quietly mutters, wishing he could move your hips harder against him, but knowing that that'll catch the attention of your friends. you tried to hold back a small groan of your one. “shh, you gotta stay quiet for me”
“w-we shouldn't...” you choke out in a whisper. but miguel's grip hasn't let up, his mouth slightly opening in a silent pant by your neck. “i didn't think you'd feel this good, cariño...carajo.”
“so...good.” he mutters, most of his words sounding as though he's speaking to himself. “i — i can move to someone else's lap...” you suggest, trying to keep your voice normal. miguel shakes his head, his lips brushing your neck. “no...y/n...you're staying right here.” and now you're sure your waist is tainted with miguel's claw marks.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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mcflymemes · 2 months
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PROMPTS FOR THE GRUMPY VS SUNSHINE TROPE *  assorted dialogue for that great dynamic between a guarded character and a warmer character, adjust as necessary
GRUMPY CHARACTER
do you ever stop smiling?
life sucks. get over it.
no one ever listens to me. at least, not until you showed up.
i didn't ask for your opinion.
there are more important things i should be dealing with.
i don't talk about my feelings with anyone.
that was a little uncalled for.
i didn't mean to talk your ear off.
i work better on my own.
what did you say to them to get them to listen?
i don't want to talk to you. in fact, i don't want to talk to anyone.
can you just leave me alone?
i never said i would help you.
you can't just talk your way out of problems.
everything was fine until you showed up.
now if you'll excuse me, i have better things to do.
what's so great about this place, anyway?
my opinion doesn't matter anyway.
i don't have time for "fun."
i just want to get this done and go home.
that's never been up to me to decide.
do you stick your head into everyone's business, or just mine?
if it's all the same to you, i'd prefer to be alone.
no one asked you to get involved.
i don't have a choice. it's my duty.
you're interrupting me again.
can we talk about this another time?
you've been listening to me talk for an hour now.
how do you stay so positive all the time?
i'm perfectly content just the way i am, thank you very much.
can't you see they're taking advantage of you?
SUNSHINE CHARACTER
i wish you would just listen to what i have to say.
i have to try and stay positive. it's the only way we get through this.
nothing good can come from constant negativity.
i believe in myself because no one else will.
i've seen what happens when the bad outweighs the good.
we just have to stay strong.
you never know what someone is going through.
i am capable of more than you give me credit for.
i don't think you're a bad person.
there's so much more to life than this.
you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
have you tried being nice to them?
a compliment goes a long way.
i choose to be kind.
i just don't see the point in staying silent.
i'm just trying to look out for you.
there's no need to be rude.
we could work together as a team. did you ever think about that?
if you need my help, i'm here for you.
you should smile more often.
i wish you would just be yourself.
for what it's worth, i like who you are now.
we don't have to fight all the time.
being soft is not a weakness.
i want to make this work between us.
despite all that, i'm still here for you.
if you ever want to talk, i'm here to listen.
you're not as bad as you make yourself seem.
i've never seen you that way.
i've come to care about you.
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Text
UK Politics Rundown: BoJo's Bizarre Exit Edition
Ok, so, people keep asking me to explain what's going on in the UK right now, mostly because they're seeing Brits just revelling in the levels of fuckery going on. So, a brief bullet pointed run down:
Most of you have probably heard of the Sentient Mop that is Boris Johnson, former Prime Minister of the UK
Most of you probably know about his penchant for lying to the public and basically not giving a fuck about it
This culminated in a huge police investigation into literal parties this man held while we were in Covid lockdown. Including one the night before Prince Phillip's funeral at which the Queen sat alone. And if you know how the press reacted to that one, you know he was in the shit for it.
Anyway, he lied about many of those parties, got fined for attending those parties, and is still technically under Parliamentary investigation for lying to Parliament while stood on the floor of the House of Commons (the room where they yell about laws every day).
There was also a Vote of No Confidence, which is a way in which the Conservatives can remove the leader of their party if they think he's terrible. Boris won this, but by a smaller margin than he would have wanted. No new vote can be held for another year based on the current rules (more on this later)
Fast forward 2 weeks from the end of that to last week and we get some news about an MP (Chris Pincher) who initially seemed to have got drunk and done *something* (as yet it was undefined) and he was suspended from the Conservative party pending investigation.
The following day (Thursday) it emerged that it was because he had allegedly sexually assaulted two men while drunk at a Conservatives club, and that there had been reports of this behaviour before. So he had the whip (basically the ability to vote as a Conservative MP) removed.
On Friday tons of Conservatives did the rounds on the news with 'oh we didn't know he was Bad. Boris definitely didn't know or he wouldn't have appointed him to his position'
On Saturday Boris does an interview where the reporter challenges him and says 'you were told about this in December 2019), Boris then admits to knowing about it but says he 'forgot'.
People are piiiiiiiiiiiised
Fast forward to Tuesday this week (5th July 2022). Late Tuesday, two Cabinet Ministers (think of like the Secretary of State/Housing etc in the US, it's roughly equivalent) Rishi Sunak (Chancellor of the Exchequer) and Sajid Javid (Health Secretary) resign, citing Boris lying to them about many things but this being the final straw.
I mean sure lads, everything else was terrible but this is what did it huh?
Don't worry about it. Their resignations were designed to do exactly what's happened so it was a calculated move.
This kicks off what you've seen in the last 48hrs, with Cabinet Ministers, Senior Ministers, and Junior Ministers all resigning. At one point it was 6 resignations an hour.
The previous record for most ministers in a 24hr period resigning was 11 in 1932. Boris did 53.
Current total of resignations is 59. He fired Michael Gove (who's been hired and fired by the last 3 Prime Ministers, so congrats on that achievement Michael!) So it's basically at 60.
There are not enough ministers in jobs currently to run most departments
Press didn't know what to do with themselves and everyone in the UK was on Facebook marking themselves as 'attending' Boris' leaving party, and generally just having a great time with governmental collapse
Yesterday Boris refused to go. You may have seen footage of the entire House of Commons telling him goodbye very sarcastically. This is the normal levels of shithousery in the House of Commons, but it's also very funny.
Boris was still refusing to go late last night, saying he had a mandate from the people. You got this in 2019, love, it doesn't count anymore.
Literally everyone was writing letters and going on TV telling him to go, including people who'd got new jobs from him 24hrs before
Anyway, between 6:45am and 8am another 10 people resigned, which is how we got to 60 after yesterday's bonanza, and by 9:15am Boris said he would resign as PM and Tory Party leader
He is literally blaming everyone but himself at this point but no one is listening to him anymore
This has triggered a Leadership election, where untold horrors await us because that person will be the new Prime Minister....until they're forced to call a General Election
However, Boris still remains as Prime Minister for now. He said he'd stay until there was a new leader elected. So he's down, but he's not yet out.
But the fun doesn't stop yet! The 1922 Committee (the backbenches of the Tory Party in Parliament) has elections for positions on Monday and they might (and probably will) elect people who want to change the rules so that another Vote of No Confidence can be held. If that happens, the rules can be changed in less than 24hrs and they'll hold another vote to oust him before a new leader is elected. Personally, I hope Theresa May wears another ballgown to this vote after she did to the last one. Boris was the one who ousted her to become leader, so she's revelling in shithousery and it's fun to see Tory on Tory violence.
Highlights of all of this include: Reporters interrupting each other to say someone else just resigned, the people heckling Boris from the gates of Downing Street, the one guy who resigned while in a Parliamentary Committee meeting with Boris that was to discuss all the lies Boris has been telling (and informed him during this meeting. He's a Tory but the balls on that man jeez), Hugh Grant (yes, film star Hugh Grant) paying a bloke to go play the Benny Hill theme tune on Live speakers around Parliament, reporters interviewing Larry the Cat who is literally a cat and responsible for keeping the mice at bay, and every single person in the UK making memes/jokes/videos and just generally having a fantastic time as the government implodes.
Will a new leader change anything? No
Are the British public scared or worried about this? No
Is it just really really fucking funny? Yes. So funny
And that, guys, gals, and non binary pals, is the current account of what's going down in the UK as of 7th July (late afternoon).
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astrophileous · 6 months
Note
Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹
Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️
Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.
Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.
Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.
"Hey—"
"Are you insane?"
You looked at him dumbfoundedly.
"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"
A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.
"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."
"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.
"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"
"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."
Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"
"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."
Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."
"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"
It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.
Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.
And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.
"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."
"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"
You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.
Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"
Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."
You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"
Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.
With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.
"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"
You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."
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