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xzhdjsj · 7 hours

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Sakuverse Characters Walking in on You Watching a ✨️Spicy Film✨️

Warning: NSFW!!!

Includes: Andrew, Isaac, Xanthus, Elias

Sooooo this is an idea I got from a recent ask I saw from @ilovegureshin (I hope you don't mind me tagging you). Since there's only 4 chars, I may do a pt. 2 in the future🦦

This is warm up for pt. 2 of that Zaros fic CUZ I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FULL SMUT BEFORE AND IDK WTF I'M DOING YALL

Anways as always, I hope you enjoy😌🫶

‼️ Repost cuz my dumbass deleted the original while editing🙄 We back to being hrny on main tho!

Andrew

Andrew is late today, maybe it's traffic, maybe he's just working a bit overtime but in the end you were the one being subjected to torture.

It's been a rough day, and you couldn't wait to get home to him. A bad day is always mendable when your boyfriend knows how to make you feel good. But given he's not home before you today, your next best option was your own hands and something to get your imagination going.

You're sitting on your knees, legs spread apart just a bit and your headphones comfortably shielding you from the noises outside. Your laptop is placed infront of you, theres two character on the screen a blonde and a brunette with a similar body type as Andrew's. You don't reach for these kinds of vides often, more like you don't need to, but sometimes the wait is too much. As the couple in your screen get more and more handsy with each other, you can't help but imagine the way Andrew touches you, the way his hand would ghosts over your thighs, or just gently touch your sides all in his attempts to rile you up. You miss him so much right now but the show must go on.

Your hands move from caressing your skin, making its way between your legs, slowly palming yourself through your undergarments.

You lost track of time, forgetting that soon your boyfriend would be home. Though it was too late for that.

Andrew knew something was up when you didn't greet him at the door like you usually do, and when the calls for your name went unanswered. What he didn't expect was to be greeted by such a... surprise.

Your back is facing the door, and you couldn't hear him through your headphones. He takes a quick glimse at the screen and grins, making his way over to the bed. He, very casually, walked up behind you and turns your face to the side so he can kiss you. You're quickly knocked out of your daze and slam the laptop shut as you scramble at the sheets.

"Andrew!"

"No 'Welcome home' hugs for me today? Although I must say this might be a better welcome after a long day."

Isaac

Sometimes when Isaac works really late you "go to bed early because you're tired", he doesn't come out of his office for hours so you have adequate time to relief yourself without disturbing Isaac. Tonight in particular, you felt completely disoriented. You couldn't get any work done and it was hard to focus. So when you couldn't take it anymore, you faked a yawn and excused yourself for the night. Isaac promised he'd be in bed with you soon, but knowing him "soon" meant at least another hour or two.

So you take advantage of the time, setting up your laptop next to you, and stripping away your clothes. Even though the volume of the video was lowered, your voice was not. Not that Isaac can hear you all the way in his office anyways. Your laboured breaths and soft moans echo the room. You take your time to rid the stress from your body, and your once soft moans increasing in volume as you get closer and closer.

Only for your body to stiffen at the three curt knocks on the door. You close the laptop quickly and pull your blanket over your body. He opens the door slowly, moving just a single step inside.

"Sorry, I uhm... I heard you through the door and- and I was going to leave, I promise! But you sounded so... good."

He's looking down at the floor, a hand on the back of his neck as he explains himself. The way the fabric of his pants stretched to accommodate his erection was obvious and maybe you didn't need your laptop anymore for tonight.

You drop the blanket from your body, crawling to the edge of the bed.

"Come here with me Isaac."

Xanthus

It was no accident. Not when you knew he could hear the video playing in your screen and the way your heart rate quickens.

You're spread out on your and Xanthus' bed, with a random video playing in the background. You didn't really care for the video, it was just there to hold your plan together and make your actions as obvious as you can. It was all just a ploy to get his attention. You knew that he knew that too, and at some point he'd give in and come find you.

You started off discreet, faintly running your hands up and down your body. It got your blood pumping as your heart rate increased, but when that didn't draw him to you, caution was thrown right out the window and you fully indulged yourself in what you could be feeling. Your voice bounced off the walls and he could definitely hear you loud and clear now. Your eyes are squeezed shut, one hand supporting your weight behind your back, the other between your legs.

Your eyes flicker open at the sound of your laptop being slammed shut.

Your pulled at the blanket, barely covering your body at all as you feigned shame.

"Xanthus, I didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah I'm sure the door being open was also part of your plan wasn't it?" He's standing at the end of the bed, eyes completely shadowed over with lust.

"I don't know what you mean." You lie.

"Don't play dumb with me, you love testing my patience don't you?"

"Perhaps"

"Brazen, but you might just regret starting this."

He crawls onto the bed towards you, clawing at the bottom of the blanket ripping it from your grasp and exposing your body.

Elias

There isn't much to do in the safe house, especially when you're alone. Being with Elias all the time is great and you love it, but having some time apart to be by yourselves was also nice. What you planned to do with your time today was one you definitely wanted to be alone for.

You lifted your laptop from the nightstand, placing it infront of you and scrolling to find the videos you favourited. There was a select few that you enjoyed, especially because you could imagine yourself in those scenarios, only now you could also picture someone as the other person in the videos.

Elias was all the way in his room, probably playing games or sleeping, whatever it was you hope it kept him in there for as long as possible. Once you're all prepared, you set the laptop down and kicked off your pants, leaving only your shirt and underwear on. Your eyes are set on the screen, watching and replicating the way the character's hand moved on the other. Your shirt is hiked all the way up, caught between your teeth so you hands could freely access your chest. All you could think of is Elias and if he'd also touch you this way. Surely if you asked, he wouldn't say no to you right?

Your other hand reaches down to the fabrics hugging your pelvis, fingers slipping inside to touch yourself.

But you're pulled to reality when the door knob creaks and Elias comes into view.

"Hey babe, do you wanna- Shit!"

You immediately tug your shirt down and make a high pitched sound and Elias quickly rushes right back out the door.

"I'm sorry!" He yells from outside. "I didn't know and your door was unlocked- Jeez I really am sorry!"

You body drops onto the bed, silently cursing yourself for not locking the door.

"It's okay." You tell him. "Did you need something?"

He's quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"Can I come back inside?"

You swallow hard at his request, pulling your blanket over your lower body.

"Yeah, sure"

The door slowly opens and Elias steps inside.

"Sorry, you look really fucking hot right now and I can't get it out of my head." He confesses and you're dumbstruck.

"Elias I uhm-"

"If this is too much for you, tell me to leave now, else I don't plan to." He cuts you off.

"Don't. I don't want you to leave"

"Good."

Before you knew it, his shirt is on the foor and your arms are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you.

"Were you thinking of me?" He asks.

"....yeah"

#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #andrew marston #isaac rhoades #xanthus claiborne #elias #zsakuva andrew #zsakuva isaac #zsakuva xanthus #zsakuva elias

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warlordfelwinter · 5 months

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love the ways that fiver looks at gaius. he is So Uncomfortable about being in the same room as this man

#gaius was like the starting gun for all of fiver's wol trauma #in my mind fiver ended up facing ultima alone and fully almost died if it hadn't been for hydaelyn #nevermind lahabrea #fel's ffxiv #shadowbringers lb #oc: fiver #also i've just learned from looking something up that all the like msq arr trials are duty support now #i don't know when that happened but i like it #keep doing that square #make all the msq trials duty support #and then add trust levelling roulettes #i wouldn't mind the game going in a 'more mmo' direction or whatever yoshi-p said #if there were also nice avenues for anxious hermits like me #who just want to play the msq alone #as long as both options are there no one could complain cause both kinds of players get what they want #they could add more trials if they feel like they need to #which evidently they do feel like it based on the insane amount of them in the endwalker patches like jesus christ why were there so many #but just let me do them with my npc friends #it's all i ask #that and a radz-at-han res district

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fleshadept · 2 months

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looking at (vetted) gofundmes for people trying to escape palestine and i don't know how many of you actually click on the gofundme links you reblog but i would like to point out, for what it's worth, just how amazing it is that so many have raised so much money. it may overall feel like a drop in the ocean but the fact that several gofundmes have raised tens of thousands of dollars is amazing. it is so expensive to leave gaza right now, and people still need money after they escape. but regardless of what propaganda the US, UK, canada, and other western nations are trying to pump out, people across the world are doing what they can to help these people survive. many of them are still very far from their goals (like this one and this one and this one) and some of them are very close to high goals (like this one), and some of them have reached almost double their original goal.

and that's not even addressing direct aid or organizations that take continuous donations for distribution of food, menstrual products, etc. the PCRF has raised $16,000,000 of their target goal of $20,000,000 to fund current aid and long-term relief efforts in gaza. ANERA's febuary 13th update discusses the material ways they helped palestinians today:

(ANERA donate link)

my point is, it often feels like the world is turning a blind eye to palestine. but i would like to point out that there is an important difference between "the world" and "western political leaders and media narratives". a breathtaking amount of real people, the people who make up the world, are trying to help. in the face of israel attempting to commit genocide, the world is saying No. These people deserve to live. and literally sending millions of dollars internationally, through the internet connection that israel has desperately been trying to destroy.

it may not feel like it matters in the grand scheme of things. but to the people who get fresh clothes, or a hot meal, or blankets, or the kids who get new toys, or to the people who are able to bring their families to safety, it matters to them. go make someone's day better. i've linked so many options with ways to do that.

#free palestine #cricket chirps #palestine #gaza #if you feel overwhelmed and don't know where to begin #i recommend deciding on a total amount of money to donate (e.g. $20 $100 etc)#and deciding you will either donate it all in one place or split it between a few places #do what you can!!! it will always be helpful no matter how little #1k #5k #10k #20k

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keets-writing-corner · 3 months

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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

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daggersandarrows · 7 months

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having just sort of a Night

#could physically Feel myself getting to that point of “hasn't seen humans in long enough that it's Bad”#this usually hits for me around the 72 hour mark moving up or down depending on how long it's been since i've shared a bad #but it's also that tipping point where i'm in a 50/50 split between “oh i need humans” and “actually what if i just didn't make an effort t #see anyone again ever"#was leaning hard towards option two when meg had to cancel which is when the [i'm in danger] feeling Hit #i don't feel. like. BAD. but i'm having an adjustment coming off gabapentin so i Need to do things that give me purpose #and i was halfway through cleaning the apartment when they called #stopped dead intending to finish and simply Didn't #but i fed myself switched my laundry and did some actual flight rising planning #and finally and i'm most proud of this one #i FINALLY quit my part time job #i fully intended to give them two week's notice but kept procrastinating then got hit with massive guilt which of course got worse #my boss was really nice about it and i guess one week is better than nothing #i have a feeling i'm going to feel much better tomorrow and that my executive function is going to improve bc that was REALLY weighing on m #idk why i just couldn't fucking make myself do it #i even fucking brought it up in therapy fully intending to quit that day #and. Didn't.#oh i also emailed my therapist to discuss esa paperwork! AND i read fetch api documentation in prep for maaaaybe testing into the advanced #code the dream class #i guess i did a lot today it just feels like all i did was sit in front of the tv #i'll feel better tomorrow. i will.#thing is. i'm much better at coping with being unexpectedly alone than coping with being unexpectedly with people.#i know how this works. i'll be okay. i'll be okay #i'm going to finish my audiobook and go to work and code and text my friends #i will be fine #i just feel a little lonely and weird tonight and i need more vitamin d and also to remember to take my meds #thane.txt

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swordfright · 2 months

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this might just be because i'm a bit older than your average mcyt fan, but it makes me kind of sad to see all these younger fans scramble to wipe their mcyt fanworks off the internet the second a content creator is revealed to have done something awful.

don't get it twisted, I'm a big believer in rescinding financial support to ccs you no longer agree with or admire by unsubscribing, deciding not to buy merch, or refusing to give them ad revenue by watching their content. if you don't feel comfortable giving someone money, don't give them your money. material support isn't what i'm talking about here - I'm talking about fanfic, fansongs, fanart. yknow, content that fans create for themselves and each other, stuff that's not for ccs.

in the past year (and especially the past week, obviously) i've seen tons of mcyt fans saying they're planning to delete their art (or that they already have deleted) because they don't want their work to be associated with content creators who behaved badly, and that they want "a fresh start." I've seen fan writers say the same thing about their fics. and like, this is fine, do what you want with your stuff, but i'll be honest...it does make me sad that so many younger fans seemingly have been made to feel such a high degree of responsibility for ccs that they're unable to enjoy fandom (a thing that is FOR US! FOR YOU!) or take any measure of pride in their past fanworks.

again, at the end of the day you should do what you want with your own shit. but what i will say is, if what you want to do with your work is delete it, at least think first about why you're considering the nuclear option. you aren't responsible for a cc's behavior, and that goes for literally anyone who's ever had a hand in making anything you like: books, movies, games, anything. you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of having created fan content for a piece of media that a shitty person was involved in making. straight up, this kind of shame isn't something i believe should exist in fandom, because it's parasocial in the same way that positive emotions towards media/creators can be parasocial.

and also, as someone who's been involved in fandom for a long time, i can say with confidence that creators will keep disappointing you like this. there are shitty people out there. if you're searching for a piece of media with zero shitty people ever involved in the project, you will not find it. i'm not saying this to normalize shitty behavior on the part of creators, I'm saying this to emphasize that bearing the shame and guilt of every creator to this degree is not sustainable or healthy (and it's not how fandom used to operate, but that's a conversation for another day, perhaps.)

i understand why so many folks are considering deleting their fanworks, and if that's you...think about it before you do it. that's all i'm asking. you don't want to create a habit of divesting yourself of all evidence of having been passionate about art created by someone who sucks, because if you do get into that habit, then your chances of ever truly enjoying a fandom again are, unfortunately, pretty slim.

#mcyt #fandom #also deleting all your stuff is a nightmare for archivists but that's admittedly a selfish reason for asking ppl not to delete lmfao #....sigh #idk it just makes me sad to see so many kids panicking like this #long post

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the-voidwalker · 1 year

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#I haven't ranted in so long here and I think I was above this but #I just feel so frustrated and heartbroken #Everytime someone gets close to me I get scared bc everyone tends to leave me when I stop being useful to them #And every time they assure me that it won't happen again #And it always happens #I do a lot to help everyone feel loved and accepted #I just want for someone to return the favor once #Just... Once #I know it's super selfish of me to ask something like that #But I'm so tired and sad about always feeling left behind #Why am I always the second option #Is there truly something so wrong with me?#Am I really that terrible of a person to be abandoned and discarded?#I do my best... I really do #I don't think I'm really that terrible but someone please come out and say it to my face so I can do something about it #I feel so exhausted and alone #I've been keeping this feeling inside me for so long but every time I try to talk with someone I get diminished or outright ignored #Holy hell am I mad today #I've had enough #I feel like I'm gonna combust #I'm really not that undeserving of love #I'm tired of always hearing how much I matter to people just to be left alone when I make mistakes #I just want someone to mean what they say once

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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

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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 :)

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.

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

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nostalgebraist · 11 months

Text

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

#nostalgebraist autoresponder meta

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luveline · 5 months

Note

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.

You're really quite close to each other.

It's not his fault.

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.

Your heartbeat soars.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an inch under your eyes.

“I'm not mad,” he says.

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.”

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”

“But you knew that already, didn't you?”

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.

Hotch just shakes his head at you.

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can still do my job.”

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.

You stare resolutely at your shoes.

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your head. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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dwindlinghaze · 5 months

Text

lover in the foyer

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: remus lupin loves you, but his best friend 'likes' you too. so you both ended up fake dating.

contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, protective remus, r and remus are totally in love fr.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

it was a secret that you have a little crush on remus lupin. you kept that information to yourself 'cause you couldn't let the others know- it would be too embarrassing if they do. for years you've been hiding your feelings. burying it deep inside your heart.

well, that was until one day on the marauder's dormitory, a conversation was spoken.

"i've got something to tell," james started, sitting up right on his bed.

"what is it?" remus replied.

"promise you won't call me crazy?" he asked.

"we promise!" the other three said in unison.

"i'm starting to like a girl... and it's not lily," said the boy.

"what?" sirius asked, not believing what his mate just said. it was globally known that james potter loves lily evans. no one else. it has been six years since.

"yeah... it's y/n,"

a ringing silence filled the room.

you weren't super close with them four. although you are kind of friends with remus. you two talked occasionally when passing through the hallways or in the great hall.

during those small little encounters, remus might've caught some feelings. something different bloomed in his heart. hearing james saying this made his heart burn.

"i feel like she'd be a good distraction- i mean from lily. maybe that way i can make lily jealous and then she'll confess to me. even if lily-flower didn't, y/n would still be decent as a girlfriend i guess. no harm," james continued.

remus frowned, his skin burning. how could someone do that? having you as a second option? total bullshit. he wouldn't let you get treated like that. he wouldn't let james pick on your self esteem like that.

you're too good for anyone. he knows. being a substitute for someone because their crush doesn't like them back is not morally right. your soft heart is too precious to be crushed that way.

"prongs- i think that's a good idea! by then you can get lily to confess to you! you'd be everything!" sirius encouraged james, much to remus' dismay.

"moons?"

"moony has been real quiet-"

"i don't think that's a good idea," remus said sternly. he would be flaring laser beams from his eyes at james if he were a cartoon character.

james' mouth dropped, "why?"

"because- cause she's my girlfriend!" remus spoke abruptly, not knowing what he had actually said.

"your what?" all three of them screamed in shock. remus never said anything about a girl.

"how long?"

"how did that happen?"

"why didn't you tell us?"

"stop!" remus yelled, making them shut their mouth. he was panicking now. you are not his girlfriend. you'll never be. not now. not even tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

"i started to date her like... two weeks ago," remus said before standing up, grabbing his bag before he headed out of the room. "i have to go, she said something about wanting to meet me in the library."

he fumbled with the hem of his sweater. it was cold, but he was sweating heavily. he has to find you.

thank god the marauder's map was on his bag or he would be caught lying. he saw your name- beautifully written- you were on the clocktower field, sitting alone.

remus ran to where you are, panting when he arrived.

"oh y/n!" he said, taking heavy breaths.

"yeah? remus?" you looked up from your book, gazing at him with the softest yet confused pretty eyes.

"i made a big mistake- i'm so so sorry!" remus said hurriedly. his sweat trickling down his forehead.

"calm down rem, i'm sure it wasn't that horrible! sit beside me, we can talk," you sent him a comforting smile, patting the empty seat beside you.

remus sat down, wiping his palms on his trousers. how does he say it? when does he start?

"you okay?" you asked.

"noyou'rereallyprettyandkindandlovelyandsweetandiknowyouwillneverlikemebackandyouwillhatemeforthisbecauseiclaimedthatyouaremygirlfriendfortwoweeksandimsososorry."

"say that again?" you laughed, pulling out a napkin to hand it to the poor nervous boy before you.

"i may or may not have said that you are my girlfriend in front of my friends."

"why would you say that?" your heart skipped a beat, taking in the words remus has spoken. you'd be lying if you said that you've never dreamed of this- being called remus lupin's girl.

"because- it's kind of stupid really. i got it out before i even know what i was talking about that moment," he scrambled with his words, finding it hard to form a sentence right now.

"basically, james told me that he likes you but i know he does not like you. he said he wanted to go out with you just so lily can realise that she is in love with him. and i would never let him do that to you. putting you second, you deserve so much better than that. and long story short, i said that you are my girlfriend... yeah."

remus lupin was doing this for you. so that you don't get played. how sweet.

"uhm," you looked down, playing with the hem of your skirt.

"uhm- would you be in for- y'know fake dating... me..?" remus said awkwardly. "it's alright if you don't want to, i'll make some excuses. but please don't agree on going out with james. i don't want you hurt," he whispered the last words. it was half self-indulgent in his part. seeing his the girl he's been pining for years dating his best friend is not a good feeling. but he also doesn't want you to be a second choice. it feels horrible to be. knowing that feeling all to well.

"okay- i guess i can date you," you said shyly. cheeks turning crimson.

"okay- great. we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. don't wanna pressure- just for a few weeks," he said once more.

"it's fine rem, or should i call you honey? or darling? or-" you laughed, seeing his flushed face. he is so adorable. how lucky you are to have him as your 'boyfriend'.

"how can i be a girlfriend?" you asked as you two walked back from the field.

holding hands.

it wasn't in his mind that you would ever hold his hand but you are now. dreams really do come true huh.

"we just keep it normal- i mean like we hold hands, and maybe i will hug you more often, those pda stuffs. remember, only if you're comfortable." such a gentleman he is. he always makes sure that you are comfortable everytime. gosh that gave you the fluttery butterflies.

"okay, i can manage," you giggled.

"y/n- darlin'', can i sit with you during breakfast tomorrow?" remus whispered. you both were sitting on the common room in the corner, the other marauders sprawled a few feet away.

"sure, you can," you smiled softly at him.

he squeezed your hands, resting his cheek on your shoulder. this small action gave you butterflies, the pretty sparks. his face was pressed against the fabric of your soft cardigan, with one of his arm around you.

it's just been three days and you have fallen more in love.

remus on the other hand is trying not to get this too much in his head or he'd go feral. being this close to you and basically cuddling on the couch felt like a fever dream. one that he doesn't want to wake up from.

your silky skin, that periwinkle smile, those wonderstruck lips, angelic face, your incandescent touch, those misty eyes. he loves them all. how could one not? he felt the luckiest in the school for having this. having you with him on a cold friday night under the same fluffy blanket of yours. the smell of you intoxicating his nose. he isn't bothered by it. he enjoyed it.

the most obvious thing in a relationship is display of affection. though it wasn't hard for any of you to do that. remus held your bag, your books, your papers, even the things you can do yourself. he insisted that he had to help you bring them.

and that goes for days. you and remus fake dating.

james was still skeptical about remus sudden relationship. remus was never the one to look for love in his life. well- at least that's what sirius observed.

he couldn't help but look more into details of remus' 'relationship'. he noticed how remus never kissed you in public. or at least when he's in the same room as you and remus are.

"if you've been dating for three weeks now, why haven't you two got in the next step yet?" james squinted his eyes at the both of you. holding hands while studying.

"whatever do you mean by that?" remus questioned.

"like- i don't know kissing..?"

"i do kiss her often," remus replied, shrugging before he squeezed your knuckles, rubbing soft circles.

"how come i've never seen it?" james asked childishly.

"well here. maybe because you don't have to see or know or hear everything about my personal life," remus replied rather coldly.

"i'm starting to think you two are f-"

james' words were cut short as remus' lips locked to yours, wrapping them in a deep kiss.

james let out an "o" sound, walking outside the common room because the tension would be awkward for the three of you.

the moment he stepped out of the room, remus pulled away. eyes brimmed with fear and embarrassment. "sweetheart, i'm so sorry," remus said.

"it's okay remus..." you still haven't processed what had just happened but you sure did kind of enjoyed it.

"um we- we should do that more often. i mean- to make it more real y'know..." he said stiffly. it's not actually about 'making it more real'. he just wanted to kiss you, feel you. he really liked kissing you.

you didn't know what you're getting yourself into. you thought whatever this thing is would only last for two days and then you'll be back in your daydreaming days. but it wasn't. remus is still there.

that goes on for months. the both of you went from holding hands, to kissing, to lean on each other, to more boyfriend and girlfriend things. if you didn't know better, you'd think he's not faking all of this.

hogsmeade trip is coming up, that's the only thing the students are talking about right now. visiting new shops and doing early holiday shoppings. you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited. not only will the village be like a winter wonderland with the snow all over the ground and the roof, but also since remus is going with you for the day.

"you excited, dove?" remus smiled when he met you halfway on the walk to the carriage. he pulls out his gloved hand from his pocket to place it around your back.

you pressed yourself against his warmth, giggling in content. you didn't really have to speak, remus knows.

he kissed the top of your forehead, then guide you to the carriage with some random students.

as the thestrals pulled, you beamed when the snow starts falling down. perfect. everything is so perfect right now. snowflakes fall down your lashes and hair, a sight remus wanted to tattoo in his mind forever.

you had worn make up today, he can visibly see the pinkish shadow in your eyelids. remus couldn't help but admire how pretty your make up looks. how you're so good at doing anything.

your lips were a pink shade close to your natural ones, he wanted to kiss them- give your lips warmth. he was staring at you for so long to the point where he didn't realise that the carriage had arrived.

"it's pretty here! i always love seeing snow on the roof," you smiled brightly at the snow-covered roofs, inhaling the smell of fresh snow falling from the sky.

"they sure are," he agreed, "do you want to go to the cafe for a bit? the ride was cold," he blew his palms.

"of course!"

smell of fresh baked goods filled your nose, contrast to the outside. you two chose a spot near the fireplace, ordering a cup of hot cocoa.

there was a comfortable silence between the both of you. neither really have to talk. you just smiled at each other occasionally, looking around the room after. times like these make your fake relationship feels real.

when you finished your cups of hot cocoa, you two went to honeydukes, buying lots of sweets for the holiday stocks.

remus paid for your chocolates. you insisted on paying them yourself but he refused. dumping his handful of sweets over yours so they were mixed, making it impossible for you to pick yours up.

"rem, you know you can't do this right?"

"why not?" he pouted, "i want to be a good boyfriend after all."

he gave butterflies to your stomach, you hide your visibly burning cheeks on his shoulder, hugging his arm.

he loved that, so much. it feels so real, like you actually love being with him.

then you walked in a bookstore, choosing your read for the month. this time you were paying for him. "you're being so kind, and i love that but let me reciprocate that too!"

remus just nodded in defeat, kissing the crown of your head.

you and remus had a wonderful trip, one that will always be remembered. just before you part your ways, you said, "i've enjoyed the trip a lot. thank you remus for spending the day with me." you yawned, rubbing your eyes. then you kissed him. it was remus who initiates the kisses first, but this time it's you.

he cant help but feel those butterflies inside him again, holding your figure securely. "i'm getting tired, i'll see you tomorrow, love." you kissed him once more before climbing up to the girl's dormitory. leaving remus in utter shock.

maybe you guys aren't fake dating after all. maybe this is real all along. the last time the two of you ever said 'fake' was so long ago. that made him realise that this is real.

oh he can't sleep that night.

the next morning remus was skipping down to the great hall for breakfast with an uncontrolled smile on his face. this morning he woke up earlier, took a warm shower, brushed his hair, and do all things that james potter does.

"you look extra happy today hm?" james questioned, quirking one of his eyebrows up.

"just had a really good date yesterday, so good," remus replied, grabbing a plate of waffles with yoghurt and a bunch of other fruits.

"i didn't know you like kiwis," sirius snorted.

remus rolled his eyes, scoffing, "it's for my girl, look she's coming!" he said shyly, waving his hand for you.

you sat beside him greeting the students around a good morning. "you look- different, did you cut your hair?"

remus laughed, shaking his head.

"oh," you giggled, scrunching your face. remus loves that sight. you look so pretty and adorable every single day, he was so lucky. "you're handsome, y'know," you opted, making his cheeks redder.

"ugh lovebirds," sirius gagged, stuffing his mouth with potatoes.

remus smiled to himself, then he grabbed your fingers, intertwining them together. "here, your breakfast, i cut the waffles so you can eat easier. not that i think you'll have a hard time cutting waffles- you are perfectly capable of doing anything by yourself."

your heart fluttered at his words.

how much of a gentleman he is being! you wished he is your actual boyfriend. the girl that ends up with him must be so lucky.

"thank you so much," you said.

christmas is coming, and there was a party thrown at the gryffindor's common room.

"it's not even christmas yet padfoot," remus stated.

"i know, that's why it's called a pre-christmas celebration party!" sirius cheered as he wrote a letter to one of the firewhiskey store at hogsmeade, ordering boxes of the drink. he also ordered some butterbeer for those who don't drink.

"well you better celebrate cause this is the day where i'm asking lily flower out!" james said happily.

"sure prongs," remus nodded unconvincingly.

"are you enjoying the party?" he came up to you right after your friend was leaving to the bathroom.

"i am! loving the option of butterbeer," you replied.

"you haven't got any drinks?" remus asked.

"nope, i just had a chocolate cake and a butterbeer," you said.

"good good, you don't want to be like sirius or james," he pointed to the both of them. they were dancing on the sofa, jumping like rockstars, holding nonexistent guitars.

you laughed at them before grabbing his hand. "hope you don't mind, getting crowded here."

remus squeezed your knuckles, "i don't mind, you can hold me whenever you'd like."

the the two of your heard a joyous yell from james potter. "lily said yes!" he said to everyone. you can already sense lily's eye roll from there.

"finally!" remus laughed.

but you didn't. what happens now? are you and remus going to stop dating because james will not pick on you anymore or will this be continued.

that night ended with you staring at the ceiling, frowning of whatever's coming.

remus was still his lovely self, he still gives you kisses, hugs you, gets your breakfast ready, and all that sweet things he does.

you on the other hand was sceptical. maybe he just forgot or maybe he didn't know how to tell you. so you did the only thing in your mind. avoiding him little by little as days passed. it's the only way to get this over with as soon as possible before you completely fall for him more and more. like people say 'you've got to leave before you get left'.

remus noticed as days passed. you don't kiss him back anymore. you don't hug his arm. you rarely touch his hand. it was frustrating.

did you really stopped liking him? or was everything just in his head. he couldn't get those thoughts out of his mind. he was feeling less joyful as he usually does.

one evening you saw him alone in front of the fire place, a book open but he was staring at the burning fire. you couldn't help but saw how his beautiful face was forming frown, forehead crinkling and sorrow eyes.

you approached the boy, placing your hand on his shoulder gently.

remus flinched, turning around, "i didn't know you're there." his voice was croaky.

"it's okay, i just got here. are you feeling alright?" you sat beside him, knees touching.

"um i- don't know..?" he replied, his eyes averted back to the fire.

your heart sunk, a part of you knew that this is maybe your fault. you were doing this to him.

"rem, talk to me. maybe i can help."

"you've been distant," he replied. he cringed at how stupid those words sounded.

"i uh-"

"did i do something? i'm sorry, i'm sorry for making you feel that way. if you don't want to be together that's fine and-"

"what are you talking about? remus you didn't do anything wrong!"

"well why are you avoiding me as if our relationship means nothing."

"remus-," you paused, trying to find the words. "we are faking all of this remember?"

"what?" remus asked. you could see the pure shock in his face also a tint of sadness . "i thought we were dating- not fake dating."

"huh? since when?"

"after our hogsmeade date... i'm so sorry for jumping on to conclusions way too fast. i just thought we were together because it felt so real. like just- you and me- we-"

your heart clenched, "what if i told you that it felt real too?" you whispered.

"what do you mean?" he avoided eye contact.

"i love spending time with you. you made that hogsmeade trip so memorable for me. no one has made me feel so- so content. it felt like you- you like me."

"i like you," he replied.

"i like you too," you replied.

he relaxed, a soft smile on his lips. "so you thought we were faking all of this while i'm over here thinking that we are mutually in love?"

you giggled, trying to ignore the part where he said love. "you never asked me to be your girlfriend, how was i supposed to know?"

"okay yes that was my fault, so would you like to be my absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend?" remus asked with a cheeky smile.

"i accept your offer as your absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend," you replied.

you both laughed, and remus pulled you to his chest as he rest his chin over your shoulder. "remember earlier when i said i like you? scratch that- i love you."

#remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fic #remus fluff #remus lupin fluff

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vorestarr · 3 months

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i love when Astarion is mean, and i mean like genuinely mean, saying shitty things and lashing out specifically to hurt someone or push them away. i think it really says so much about him and about the specific situations when he feels the need to lash out. i love seeing it with Durge/Tav, but i'm playing a Karlach origin to romance him right now and he's so mean during his first romance scene when he can't even kiss Karlach.

after playing it, i went to look at the parsed dialogue for that scene because i wanted to see if there were any dev notes, and oh boy are there dev notes. walk with me here while i go through them all. (i didn't add alt text to the images below, but i did transcribe the lines i'm referencing in the images below, so all the important information is in the text of the post itself.)

it's the typical Astarion scene, but after his "i've been waiting to taste you" line, he diverges with: "Although your condition means tasting you could be a risky proposition. You're quite the forbidden fruit, aren't you?"

the player (as Karlach) has a few choices in reply at that point, but as long as they pick one that progresses the scene (i.e., not the one where you reject him last minute), he goes down the same dialogue tree. this tree starts with:

Astarion: All denied to us because of what Zariel did to you. [devnote: subtext, thinking about Cazador]

so right off the bat he's upset because Karlach's situation is reminding him of his own with Cazador.

but then his next line is:

Astarion: I - you know, I have no idea what to do with you now. [devnote: Astarion's mask as the flippant libertine is cracking a bit here. He's frustrated but vulnerable here. Because he can't physically seduce or touch Karlach, his usual means of interacting with a person is punctured. He's faced with the reality that he might not know how to handle a situation where he can't bite or seduce his way to the finish line.]

wow. that's a lot in that dev note.

at this point, the player has the option of a few responses, but two options to continue the encounter. the choices to continue it are: "You don't have to 'do' anything. We can just be." or "After the life you've led, I'm not surprised."

if you choose the first option, Astarion is frustrated but less mean. he says:

Astarion: 'Just be' what, exactly? Frustrated? Bored? What do we do, if not... that?

if you choose the second option, he's a little meaner. understandably so, since the player just poked at his painful past:

Astarion: You think you know the life I've led? The experiences I've had? You've no idea the stories I could tell, sweet Karlach. But you - you're just -

then, both the paths converge to the same final statement, which is mean no matter what Karlach has said to this point:

Astarion: Urgh! Why is this so difficult? I'd have already bedded you twice if you were normal.

importantly, there are dev notes for all of his lines here, but the notes are all the same:

devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.

again, at this point the player has two choices to continue the encounter, and one to end it. i'll go down each continue path separately, since they can diverge quite a bit.

path 1

the first choice is to say: "Twice in this short space of time? Doesn't sound very satisfying."

he gets mad. and mean.

Astarion: Karlach! You know what I mean. [devnote: Frustrated] Astarion: Or maybe you don't. Astarion: There may be an inferno in you, Karlach, but at the end of the day you've been frigid for a decade, isn't that right? [devnote: Being mean-spirited in an attempt to drive Karlach away, even though he doesn't actually want to do that.]

the player again has two response options to continue the encounter, and one to end it.

the first choice to continue the encounter is: "You want to try that again? Without being a jackass, maybe?"

in response he says:

Astarion: This is impossible - you're impossible! [devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.]

(at this point, the path diverts to merge with the dialogue tree from the previous branch where Astarion complains about Karlach not being normal. so we'll pause here, and continue down that dialogue tree with the path 2 header below.)

the second choice to continue the encounter after Astarion says that Karlach has been frigid for a decade is to say: "What's really going on here, Astarion? Suddenly you're so vicious."

he replies:

Astarion: Suddenly? Darling, you haven't been paying attention. [devnote: Seething and mean.] Astarion: Listen, it's just - ... I'm sorry, all right? Is that what you want?

again, at this point, he diverts to the same shared dialogue tree as the other response option. that merges with path 2, so we'll continue there:

path 2

to go BACK to the previous branch we went down, where Astarion said he would have bedded Karlach twice already if she was just normal, the other response option for the player is: "I am normal. 'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy."

instead of being mean, Astarion immediately apologizes:

Astarion: Oh no - don't you tar me with your 'normal' brush. My demons keep me extraordinary. [devnote: Karlach has punctured Astarion's bad mood with a joke.]

and then he apologizes, like he does in the other paths, saying he doesn't know what to do without being able to touch her.

Astarion: I - ...I'm sorry, Karlach. It's just, not being able to touch you - having to slow down, it's... I'm just not used to it. [devnote: subtext here is on the slowing down. That IS what he wants. But it's hard for him to see that clearly.]

Astarion: So, can you -... I don't know. Help? Show me what to do? [devnote: First breakthrough. He's asking for help knowing what to do when you can't jump into bed with someone.]

again, at this point, the player has two options to continue the encounter or one to end it.

for the first response to continue, the player can say: "We can just talk. As long as we want. Then we can sleep. Near, but not too near."

Astarion responds to this one pretty positively. he's still a little mean, but it's in his fond teasing way, and not his biting, cruel way:

Astarion: Karlach, champion of the Hells, wants to talk and then fall asleep? [devnote: Incredulous] My dear, you're much more boring than I gave you credit for. [devnote: Teasing] All right, Karlach. Let's try it your way. [devnote: Gently. He's feeling vulnerable, but sees that this might be a chance to feel safe.]

the second response option from the player is: "I don't know either. This is all just as new for me as it is for you."

he doesn't respond quite as well to this one, and goes back to being mean:

Astarion: Well. To quote you: 'Fuck.' Astarion: Why don't we put ourselves out of this misery and just sleep? If I can at least look at you, I won't have wasted my whole evening. [devnote: Peak of Astarion sexy toxicity.]

then, the scene fades to black and it transitions to the morning-after scene with Astarion, where the player first sees his scars.

i also think as a whole, this scene is just so representative of Astarion's early-game state of mind. he's following a comfortable script with all his interactions, but when he's confronted with something new, he flounders.

especially when it comes to sex, which is a touchy subject for him, his first reaction to any vulnerability is to lash out and hurt people. in this scene:

if Karlach brings up his past experiences, he lashes out. ("You think you know the life I've led?")

he blames Karlach for the situation because that's easier than addressing that he doesn't know what to do without his script. ("if you were normal")

if Karlach jokes about him ("Doesn't sound very satisfying") he lashes out even further, calling her frigid and impossible and then even doubling down if she calls him out ("you haven't been paying attention").

but if Karlach jokes about HERSELF ("'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy"), it snaps him out of his toxic bullshit and he's able to take a step back and apologize to her.

then regardless, he's also able to recognize that this is an opportunity to get what he wants without having sex, and recognize that he wants that too.

and then to me, Astarion being mean in that last response choice ("I don't know either") makes perfect sense, given the context of his other lashing out earlier in the conversation. even if the player didn't make those previous choices where he lashed out at them, he can still get mean and toxic on this choice.

crucially, with this choice, he's taken that step of hopeful vulnerability where he recognizes that maybe he does want to just spend time with Karlach without having sex, but he doesn't know how to do it. he asks for help.

if the player says they don't know how to do that either, he immediately puts those defensive walls back up. he doesn't want to flounder around, he wants an answer. he wants to know that it's actually possible to have a positive experience with someone without the script he's always used. the player saying they don't have that answer just pisses him off.

wow okay this post got really long, but i really vibed with the dev notes for this scene, and i think you can see exactly these toxic behaviors from Astarion in other scenes and in romances with other characters as well, but it's just so so clear with the Karlach scene and the dev notes just really highlight that.

#astarion #karlach #hellspawn #fireblood #astarion ancunin #karlach cliffgate #meta

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lululawrence · 2 years

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#nonnie with the questions about blogs i ~associate with #the first one you mention that has made those horrific comments #i wouldn't say i associate with them at all first off lol #i don't follow them and honestly i rarely pay attention to who the op of a post is i just focus on the content of the post #so i had no idea they'd said anything like that though a friend had warned me about them just last week due to something else they'd done #so i'd tried to blacklist and filter them so i would be far less likely to accidentally reblog a post they'd created #but i'd misspelled their blogname lmao #so NOW i've fixed that and hopefully will not accidentally reblog anything of theirs in the future #as for the other one #people can like and dislike whoever they want but for me it is about how they behave here #and we've been mutuals since... well it feels like forever now lol and while i had noticed they stopped blogging about him #i also noticed they weren't out there saying horrific things or acting cruelly towards anyone as far as i know #so if they're just quietly not reblogging content about someone they don't care for anymore? that's fine and they're allowed to do that #they also post some content i don't see from other sources so i actually quite enjoy having them on my dash #so since i don't mind having people on my dash who don't have the same views i do as long as they aren't being mean or rude or gross #or at least what i consider to be those things #then i'm gonna keep on following them and reblogging them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#so i hope that's sufficient to answer your questions xx sorry if it bothers you lol but you can... also choose not to follow me #or you can also choose to use filtering options if you'd like because they're pretty effective these days

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inkskinned · 1 year

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i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

#writeblr #this is too honest and writing it made me cry #sorry #poetry

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thef1diary · 7 months

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Hey Di! I can’t help but feel like Daniel would LOVE watching his gal get ready 👀😍

Watching Me | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel can't keep his eyes off you while you're getting ready to go out.

Warnings: none really, just a lotta fluff

Pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established relationship)

word count: 988

It's just something all men absolutely hate. You told yourself when you've been told multiple times in the past that it takes you too long to get dressed.

However the man that was currently watching you didn't have any sort of expression on his face that told you he didn't like this. He had a slight smirk on his face, so it was actually quite the contrary.

During the three years of your relationship, Daniel has never once voiced irritation over it. He actually enjoys watching you go through your routine step by step rather than leaving you to get dressed alone. And that is exactly what he is doing now.

Leaning against the doorframe, he is watching you stood with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair. You were applying your skincare products when you noticed him through the mirror. "What are you doing?"

He took that as a sign to walk further into the room, standing behind you but not touching you just yet. "Admiring the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

His simple statement made you blush profusely and you shook your head with a smile on your face but didn't respond. Even after three years, he was still capable of making you speechless.

A few moments of silence later, while you continued your routine—now doing your hair—Daniel decided to wrap his arms around your body, resting his chin on your shoulder. Usually you wouldn't mind his embrace, in fact you actually liked it a lot but at the moment it restricted you from properly drying your hair. "Daniel?"

He hummed in response, "go change" you simply stated which made him chuckle. "Why, don't I look good like this?" He asked, gesturing to his current outfit he wore after taking a shower earlier in the day—shorts from his latest enchanté collection and a plain white t shirt.

You turned around, finally facing him. Placing a hand on his cheek, you spoke "as much as I love seeing those, it's our anniversary, baby." You pointed to his thigh tattoos that Daniel knew how much you adored.

He placed a kiss on your lips before walking towards the closet and picking out a suit. Actually, after going through all the suit options, he chose two then came to you to chose the final one.

Meanwhile, you decided to remove your towel and moisturize your body. Unfortunately for Daniel, he missed that part while he was getting dressed.

However, he returned to the room while you were putting your dress on. He had a white dress shirt on but didn't button it up. On the other hand, you were struggling to zip up your dress, you saw him through the mirror again, smiling at your struggles. "A little help please?"

He came up right behind you, moving your hair out of the way before tugging the zipper up. He turned you around and placed a kiss on your bare shoulder which was decorated by a small design in ink.

That's when you noticed his unbuttoned shirt. "What's this?" You asked with a smile on your face, knowing Daniel's antics very well. In fact he's been in a mischievous mood all day today. You didn't blame him, mainly because you were also in a celebratory mood, as you two were celebrating three years of being in a relationship.

"A little help please?" He shrugged, standing with an innocent look on his face. His bare torso also revealed the tattoo he had near his shoulder, of love and life, and you grazed your thumb over it before moving down his chest.

You returned the favour by buttoning his shirt up but also had a teasing smirk on your face, "am I supposed to get dressed or help you get dressed?"

"What can I say, I like taking up all your attention." He responded instantly. Truth is, with Daniel, your smile never fades away so it wasn't a surprise that you had a smile on your face.

"Is there a problem with that?" He added, but you shook your head. "No, what can I say, you already have all of my attention."

"Good, because you have all of my attention too, every second of every day." He pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, touching your nose with his before rubbing them together. This little gesture has become a habit over the years.

"Even while you're racing?" You asked when he pulled back. Your question made him laugh, showing off his pearly whites, "yes even when I'm racing."

"Look at you, openly admitting this bad habit of yours." You clicked your tongue and shook your head, turning around to start your makeup.

"You're not my bad habit, but if you were, I'd be a goner." He stated, which made you pause. "Daniel, you can't say things like that."

He shrugged and moved next to you, picking out the products he uses to style his hair. Truth is, once you started dating him, you also convinced him to buy styling products for his hair. After all, he had amazing curls but would barely take care of them. So whenever you saw him using the products you recommended, you smiled.

Instead of looking at himself in the mirror, he was looking at you, captivated by your beauty. What can he say, he fell in love with you more and more every day.

You two were silently enjoying each other’s presence while trying to quickly get dressed as Daniel made reservations at your favourite restaurant. He finished before you, using the extra time to sit on the bed, just watching you with a smile on his face.

This is something that will never get old, him watching you with love and admiration present in his eyes.

#f1 #daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff

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