#but it was really fun either way. i lined it the other day and it looks so awesome
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Floyd Leech: Cinderella Step
GOOD GOD, FLOYD đ Put your grippers AWAY, I donât wanna see those⊠(flashbacks to the horror of Dorm Uniform Jade groovy)
P.S. You should listen to Cinderella Step by Daoko :)) I enjoy it a lot, and itâs also the song that I named this ficlet after. I feel like that first full line (âThough you are the worst, I canât help but love youâ) is very evocative of the NRC boys đ
Rise and Shine!
It was easy to tell which side of the room was Floyd's. It always looked like a hurricane had run through, scattering clothes all over every avaliable surface. Snack crumbs are sprinkled like a generous garnish on his desk and shelf. His belongingsâinteresting odds and ends he had collected over the weeksâwere similarly strewn haphazardly, wherever there was free space to be occupied.
There was only one thing that the storm seemed to have missed.
His shoes.
A glossy black--patent leather. Large yet sleek, tapering into pointed toes. It was the same pair he wore every day with his school uniform, yet there was not so much as a scratch or a speck of dirt on them.
Pristine.
The one thing he takes good care of, you thought. Must be magic.
Other shoes sat in neat rows on a rack. Boots, sneakers, sandals, in shapes and colors you've never even imagined. The variety astounded you.
Floyd bounded about the room collecting his things. He hopped around on one leg, slipping on a sock, then alternated to the other leg. Next he slung his blazer, still slightly wrinkled from having been crumpled and tossed over a chair last night, on over his prim grey-lilac vest. His striped tie was forgotten, left forlorn on his bed as he yoinked the patent leather shoes and slipped them on.
ââK, Iâm ready," Floyd announced cheerily. "Letâs get going, koebi-chan~"
You stared at his messy room. "You're not going to tidy up a little before heading out?"
He blinked. "Hmm? Why would I? Stuff's gonna shift around anyway, so there's no point in doing that."
Floyd strolled out, hands casually tucked in his pockets. You followed after him, falling in time with his footsteps. Today, they were long and languid, like waves lazily combing the beach.
You knew what that meant; good mood, best to not disturb it.
"... Right." You offered a small, reassuring smile. âHey, I noticed that you have a lot of shoesâand you take such good care of them.â
âYeah. Cuz we donât really haveâm where I come from. Gotta make the most of my human experience and all.â
"You don't exactly dress in a shirt and pants under the sea either," you pointed out with a shrug.
âShoes are special.â He said it with surprisingly conviction, an uncharacteristic seriousness set in his eyes. "You kinda need them to do the things humans do every day, least without getting nagged at. Jumping, dancing, strolling down the street."
âAll this talk about footwear⊠You sound like Cinderella.â
âEhh⊠Do I give you those vibes?â There was a crackle entangled with his words.
âYouâre the kind of guy that would sneak out if Azul told you to stay put.â You paused, then added, âjust to prove a point.â
He gave a razor-sharp grin in response. âTouchĂ©.â
Floyd glanced down at his feet. His eyes barely lingered there for half a second before they flicked to yours. âGlass slippers sound cool though.â
âGlass slippers? Really? Youâre not scared theyâd breakâŠ? I thought youâd be into more durable shoes. Something easy to move around in.â
âIâd tryâm on at least once, as long as itâs not lame lookinâ. Iâll try anything at least once. Glass slippers, a pussâs boots, ballet flats from twelve dancing princesses, shoes made by elvesâŠâ
âEven cursed shoes?â you asked. âProfessor Trein was telling us about them the other day. Put them on, and youâre cursed to dance forever and everâor at least until you collapse from exhaustion.â
Floyd made a face. âNah. Dancingâs fun, but not if you do it all the time. Iâd get sick of it.â
"Thereâs more than one way of dancing.â
âDuh. I know that. But itâll still get pretty boring after a while.â
âI donât think so.â You shook your head, your feet coming to a stop. âDancingâs a lot like having a conversation, except your mouth doesnât ever need to move. You just let your body do the talking.â
Your legs criss-crossed in a quick jig. "This is being excited." Standing on your toes, you carefully elevated yourself. "This is whispering." Putting all your weight into your feet, you stomped. "And this is shouting!"
Floyd watched your demonstration in silence. Gold, right. Olive, left. Together, mysterious and mirthful.
âSounds fun,â he piped up at last. âI want in on this."
Before you had the chance to respond, Floyd's had had already latched onto yours. The other wrapped around your waist, tugging you against his chest. You lurched against him, and the sound of his raspy laughter filling your eardrums.
âYou wanna dance? Letâs dance. Then you tell me what my dancing says to you.â
âW-Wait, FloydâŠ!â
He didnât.
Floyd strung you along and down the street, swinging you erratically in his arms. With his long limbs swaying, he moved as naturally as a fish amid coral. For a creature of the sea, he had such grace on land that you could never tell his true origins.
He was the wind, a water current, a wayward traveler. Constantly changing and never truly contained.
Your panic and surprise easily melted into light-hearted laughter. And your feet, too, began to weave freely, as if wading on the shoreline, drawing indiscriminate shapes in the sand.
Realization struck you when you looked at him again. Your heart went thump-thump-thump, in a frantic little dance of its own.
What heâs trying to convey isâŠ
Floyd met your gaze, sparks flying. His fingers interlocked with yours, he leaned in and grinned. Cheeks ruddy, eyes shining with exhibition.
âWe donât need words. Just our dancinâ shoes and each other!â
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Floyd Leech#twst x reader#Floyd Leech x reader#jp spoilers#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#Reader#self insert#something no one asked for#Floyd birthday takeover
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Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.
Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!
Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.
Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.
You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).
Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.
I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do đ so its rough!
BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]
If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.
I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.
I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.
Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.
I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.
He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.
I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)
What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!
He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.
Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.
Stay tuned, I'm cooking đ§âđł
If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.
With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.
Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.
That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.
That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.
He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!
I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.
Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.
And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.
Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.
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infinite doodles 51-60 from last year. i love my infinite plushie so much, it looks so goddamn stupid and i like to violently shake it around. my real dog, kefla, actually stole him off of my bed a few weeks ago and i caught her chewing on his hair. i wasnt mad though, its what he deserves. plus kefla is just too cute to stay mad at. if you could see her, you would understand
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
#engies daily dogs#my art#infinite the jackal#sth#sonic forces#i cant remember if the satbk-verse art was a user design or if i made it up. or if it was a little of both#but it was really fun either way. i lined it the other day and it looks so awesome#but u wont get to see it unless u pay for iiit :)#huh yeah mybe i should be promoting my colouring pages here too#i have a teeny audience but it doesnt really matter here eh?#although speaking of that i should also put together a pinned post i guess#ill do that later#right now its time to admire the among drip pose (the last drawing)
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At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)
I am so normal about these old dorks.
I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.
I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.
Oh, and a little bonus comic:
Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)
Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:
Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)
Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... đ
In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? đ€Ł (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)
Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\
#fanart#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#the book of bill#comics#i can't believe gravity falls and billford keep on trending almost three full months after the book of bill's release#this is incredible#maybe i will add more tags later idk#i have to go to WORK now blehhhhhh#oh right: Do Not Repost (good luck anyway lol. this is So Many images and all of them are Big XD)
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silver.
aaron hotchner x reader.
summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune
Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.
"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.
"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.
"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'
You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.
You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."
He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.
"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"
"To torture me?"
"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"
"Baby no...."
"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"
You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.
"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"
" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."
You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.
"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"
"you're young-"
"I'm in my thirties-"
"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"
"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.
"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."
You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.
"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.
He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.
"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."
He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.
"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"
"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"
"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."
He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."
"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"
You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."
He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.
"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.
"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.
"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#aaron hotch x reader#mine
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Whats your stance on A.I.?
imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!
like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.
but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!
so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.
consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.
but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!
see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???
so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.
i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.
#sarahposts#ai#ai art#llm#chatgpt#artificial intelligence#genai#anti genai#capitalism is bad#tech companies#i really don't like these people if that wasn't clear
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Okay, so here I go. (Iâm sorry if words are misspelled or if I used the wrong words; Iâm dyslexic but thank goodness for autocorrect. Sometimes it corrects it for me and at others it puts a completely different word then what I meant; so fair warning.)
So, I was wondering if it will be Ghost that cat reader opens up to about her fear of deep water. It was pretty obvious that she has trauma from it from that one time Ghost tried to give her a bath after she was done for the day doing her âmouse killingâ duty; it is most likely a deep fear developed from trauma from being held under by an abusive old owner/partner.
Like yes, itâs obvious she irritates Ghost out of âspiteâ (and probably does it for shits & giggles on her end) but HE was the one she clung onto when it was made clear of her fear of deep water. She may have been terrified but she felt safe enough to hold onto him & allowed him to comfort her during that event; she cuddled herself under his head and tapped her head against his chest which are signs of trust for a cat.
Yes, sheâs definitely more friendly & open to Gaz (first to earn that with her), Soap (second) and Price (third to earn the right to be comfortable with her) but what if it actually came down to core issues/serious concerns itâs actually Ghost she goes to. Mostly because she can tell that although they annoyed each other (not really but more just for loving fun) that they DO understand each other on a level that the others just canât.
The other three are there for basically nap time together, to play with and being cute with; but it is only with him will she be THAT open with serious things/issues. For her, he becomes her special & only companion for those kinds of matters. (Which once he realizes that she views ONLY him as special/worthy enough to be open with stuff does he feel honored instead of annoyed about it. After all he was trying to make a connection with her and now he has a strong one that only he has access to; she wonât open up about serious stuff with the others in a way that she will only do with him.)
Basically is will be the bases/beginning for her to start accepting him as a comfort source/companion. Of course, sheâll still be a little brat/little shit towards him; but it will be out of good fun/love intentions behind it, no malice or hatred behind her annoyance towards him anymore.
Hope this helps you come up with an idea. âșïž
Oh, babe, you got my vision perfectly LMAO. (And no worries about your dyslexia, I understood you perfectly!)
CW: mentions of past abuse (and technically attempted murder)
I won't go so far as to say that she would never go to the other boys, but yes, she has an extra special bond w/ Ghost because they both understand what it's like to survive abuse--especially abuse at the hands of someone they should've been able to trust. It's also very much an "I hate you" relationship in that they only "hate" each other because of that similarity/understanding. We tend to be more critical towards people like us because of how we perceive ourselves; we are our best critics, after all.
In short, "canonically," reader got tossed over a bridge into a river when her past owner tried to get rid of her. Something along the lines of--she became too big of a burden. Being a birthday/Christmas gift, they didn't expect the true responsibility of raising a pet. The reason doesn't really matter, though; either way, she scratched her way out of the soggy cardboard box and dragged herself to shore, then made her way to the old abandoned farm nearby. Hence why she doesn't like deep water--especially not when someone is carrying her towards it.
But next time Ghost tries to clean her, he's learned his lesson. Fills a small tub just 2-3 inches high, and instead of casually tossing her in, is surprisingly patient as he places her back paws in first--letting her wade a few seconds before plopping her front feet in. She's still whiny, of course, used to washing herself, but with Ghost's help, he get's the places she can't reach. Not to mention that the shampoo he's using smells pretty good.
"Not so mean when your buttons ain't pushed, huh?" he sighs, only to add-- "Sorry 'bout last time. Should've respected your boundaries."
You're quiet for a little before bumping your head into his hand, as if in acceptance of his apology.
"'Sides, you've got your reasons," he goes on, moving to scratch under your chin as well. "And fear ain't your fault."
You meow in understanding, then blink slow.
"Ha--" He copies the blink back. "Think this is the nicest you've been to me."
The rest of bath time is quiet, save for the sound of you shuffling around in the tub in response to Ghost's ministrations. But just as he finishes rinsing you clean of suds, Gaz comes around the corner, ready to kick off his boots after a long day.
"See you're gettin' close with the kit there," he smiles, dusting his hands off in mid-air. And while you half-expect Ghost to respond with acceptance, instead, he mutters--
"What else am I supposed to do? She stinks."
Well, there goes the moment.
You swipe at his hand with a hiss, only to be met with his scowl and a towel that swallows you whole.
When you do eventually tell him--the reason for your fear, that is--it's after another bath, and when you're snuggled close under the weight of his arm. His hand cups the back of your neck, callouses almost silky from how he handles you oh-so gently. A tempered practice he's forced himself to learn since you met. Because though kindness doesn't come naturally to him, it doesn't unnerve you; sometimes you wonder if kindness, as a choice, is better.
"You know I--" he clears his throat-- "we'd never. Right?" Simon whispers, his voice as deep as the purr that eventually rumbles through your chest.
Your fingers dance through the fine blonde of his hair, illuminated only by thin streaks of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Then you draw your palms down, so instead, you're holding the sides of his face, the scars and marks of his beautifully imperfect skin like stories untold beneath your thumb. And you press your nose to his.
"I know."
(He may or may not run into your former owner eventually, and he may or may not threaten to kill him or worse. But that's a story for another day :D)
#cat shifter au#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#drabble#fanfic#x reader#reader insert#tf 141 x reader#task force 141#141#cod 141#tf 141#141 x reader#tf 141 x you#task force 141 x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#gaz#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#kyle garrick x reader
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simon canât help but touch himself when heâs away from you :(
âlook whoâs finally picking up my call.â you say in a sarcastic playful tone. he just chuckles quietly, and you can almost tell that heâs rolling his eyes right now. âdonât be needy, love. youâre acting as if i donât pick up all of your fifty calls a day.â simon replies in a sarcastic playful tone as well, teasing you slightly. this time, you roll your eyes, but youâre smiling at his silly statement anyway. heâs silly, but heâs your silly. and you miss him so fucking much.
âyou donât give me attention anymore, babe. all you care about is being a tough guy, a strong soldier, an idiot who risks his own life for fun.â you tease him back as you lean your back against the headboard of simonâs bed. thereâs a hint of neediness in your voice that makes him sigh heavily, as if he canât wait to come back home and stuff your mouth full of his cock so you can stop complaining all the time. all you do is whine about his absence.
âare you laying on my bed right now, baby?â simon asks you, hearing the light squeaking of the bed whenever you move your body. âyeah, why?â you shrug, putting your phone on the nightstand and pressing the speaker button on the screen. you sigh lazily, laying down completely on his side of the bed, because it smells like him. you close your eyes for a second, breathing calmly. simon licks his lips quickly, adjusting himself on the chair of his room.
his door is locked and he canât help but get horny just with the sound of your slow and lazy breathing. it kind of reminds him of the way you breathe when he wakes you up by being in between your legs. simonâs mind starts to wander and before he could think twice, his cock is out of his trousers and his hand is stroking it slightly, trying to not wake you up on the other side of the line. the thought of you almost begging to be fucked and to be given a little attention makes him pick up his pace and almost cum on the spot, but he controls himself.
simon begins to breathe heavily, his grunting and panting are noises that you can recognize from afar, and it wakes you up from your half-sleep. âwhat are you doing?â you ask him in a sleepy but teasing voice, sitting on the bed as you realize that your boyfriend is a freak. your voice and your teasing tone just makes him ten times harder as he keeps stroking himself at a fast pace. âkeep talking, princess. iâm so close.â he breathes out, groaning quietly. you swallow hard, getting turned on with this whole situation.
âi really miss you, simon.â you say in a quiet whisper, your tone is so soft and needy that it makes simonâs cock throb in his hand. you really miss him and sometimes he has no idea at all of how much you suffer without him. however, right now, heâs not thinking of you in a romantic way whatsoever, and it almost pisses him off that youâre not quite matching his attitude at the moment. the way youâre so head over heels for him turns him on anyway, though.
heâs so in love with you that he doesnât mind your naĂŻve persona, and whatever you say will make him cum either way, just because he loves you so much and he canât wait to come back home to you and do whatever he wants with you. âi miss you too, pretty baby. i canât wait to come back home and fuck my little princess real nice and slow, make her feel every inch of me, just how she likes it.â simon breathes out again, he sounds so breathy right now, as if heâs one stroke away to cumming on his hand. âpromise to be waiting for me on my bed with your legs spread when i arrive?â he adds, moaning quietly.
ây-yes.â
#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley#simon riley x y/n#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley fluff#ghost cod#ghost x reader#call of duty
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pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#dr reid#spencer reid#fluff#spencer reid fluff#x reader#criminal minds x reader#derek morgan#spencer fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#reid#criminal minds spencer
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â.Ë áĄŁđ© â â when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)
âș đč . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!
âș đč . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)
âș đč . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3
đà§Â jisung đà§
Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, youâre both jealous and itâs justified.
You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you donât and that really messes with Jisungâs head on a daily basis.
The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since youâve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.
You: did you get home safe?
As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.
Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off
You: thatâs good
You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?
You couldnât help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.
Ji <3: y/n what the fuck
The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldnât decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought heâd be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.
âWhat nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?â Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No âhelloâ, no âbabyâ, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.
Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. âNonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?â
Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. âWhat is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when youâre not here?â
âAre you hearing yourself?â your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. âI just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!â
You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. âSo, Iâm not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?â
A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.
âYou know thatâs not what I asked, Ji â â
âOh, I know.â He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. âYou were just wondering if we fucked.â
With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.
âDonât worry, youâre the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.â Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. âAny more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?â
You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasnât healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldnât even exist without him.
With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he mightâve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.
âIâve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe Iâd do something like that to us?â
đà§Â felix đà§
No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like youâre the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.
Heâs so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.
Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. Thereâs a very strong longing for the other here.
Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each otherâs weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.
âJust â â Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. âAdmit you cheated! Youâre a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldnât have bombed me right at the finish line.â
Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.
âOr maybe youâre just a sore loser.â He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.
The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.
Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. âWho knew you took mario kart so seriously?â
You couldnât take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. Thatâs how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.
Thatâs why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didnât show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.
It felt like fireworks going off on New Yearâs when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him â they all drove you insane.
Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship â whatever that was â you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.
đà§Â seungmin đà§
Heâs the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.
Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.
Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.
The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didnât usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.
You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.
He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.
âGuys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.â
Jeonginâs voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didnât seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.
âShh, Innie, donât disturb our couple.â Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didnât even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.
âWill you guys be quiet? Y/nâs sleeping.â His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasnât in the mood for any teasing it seemed. âAnd stop calling us a couple. We arenât together and weâll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.â
The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.
What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy youâve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.
đà§Â jeongin đà§
Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.
Youâre very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the otherâs secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.
Has always loved you in some way, just isnât aware of the fact that heâs actually in love with you.
âAnd you wonât believe what she said next!â
He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. âWhat did she say?â
Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. âWell Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we canât always bend over backwards for you!â
Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.
âCan you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!â
He nodded, agreeing with your every word. âAnd not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!â
âExactly!â you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. âDo you see the type of people I have to deal with now that youâre not here?â
Those last words made Jeonginâs shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right â he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all heâs known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place youâd hang out at after classes.
He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.
âJeongin?â
At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didnât usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.
âHow about we make this girl eat her words, hm?â he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.
Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. âHow?â
It seemed thatâs what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.
âLet me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.â Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. âIâm not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when sheâs around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend sheâs been. Or, until you drop her.â
Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that heâd ever admit it.
With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour youâve been at his house.
âAlright, letâs do this!â
And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
tagging: @captainchrisstan
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#skz x you#stray kids x you#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#skz fanfic#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin x reader
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Dedicated to my fluff-loving friend, Ms. đ. I'm getting whiplash. The last four days were probably the darkest and smuttiest writing I've done - and today, it's ...fluff to the max. I stuffed all the fluff in my mouth. I want this story to be so fluffy that I become fluffy.
 A smile was said to be worth a thousand words, a silent language that could light up the room, soothe others, or even hide the darkest of truths. Â
But what did it mean if you couldnât smile? If every time you tried, your lips refused to cooperate, did that make you worthless?Â
All your life, people said the same thing: âJust smile, honey.â And when you didnât, they assumed you were upset, angry, or just a frigid bitch.Â
But that wasnât it. It was never that simple. You weren't upset, at least not in the way they thought. Â
So, you started practising, standing in front of the mirror day by day, willing yourself to smile. Youâd stretch your lips upwards, trying to mould them into something that looked natural. But the face that stared back at you was wrong. Â
It didnât look like you. Â
The curve of your lips felt forced, your eyes not lighting up the way they were supposed to. The reflection almost mocked you with its emptiness, the smile looking more like a grimace, a mask of something false.  Â
And you hated it. Â
You hated how fake it felt, how alien it looked. It didnât bring you any joy, just a hollow, bitter taste. Â
If a smile was truly worth a thousand words, then maybe yours was worth nothing at all.Â
Alastor had spent months trying to coax a smile out of you. When you first arrived at the hotel, your lips were a perfect, unyielding line, your eyes flat and devoid of any spark. At first, he paid you no mind. The hotel was bustling, full of fresh souls seeking redemption, and he had no shortage of entertainment. Â
The âPrincessïżœïżœÂ Redemption Program,â as much as it irked him, was thriving. There were countless other residents, and yet...you stood out, your lack of expression gnawing at him more than heâd care to admit. Â
He didnât like you â not at first. While others laughed and grinned, you remained stone-faced, and it irritated him. You befriended everyone in the hotel, navigating its chaos with grace, but never once did your lips so much as twitch into a smile. And that irked him more.Â
Eventually, something in him shifted. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented, or maybe he had eternity to burn. Either way, he decided he was going to make you smile. Once, just once, and then heâd be on his merry way. Â
So, he tried everything. At first, you merely raised an eyebrow, curious but silent as he suddenly began spending more time with you. Yet, you never complained. Instead, you listened, offering no reaction other than attentive silence. Â
Heâd tell jokes, ones that normally left him in stitches, but youâd sit there, unblinking, lips still pressed into that same stubborn line. Â
Then, he tried pranks. Heâd tap your shoulder and watch you startle when he appeared behind you, his laughter echoing down the halls. Every time, the same trick, the same reaction â but never a smile. Only a flicker of surprise before you carried on, as if nothing had happened. Â
âKnock, knock!â He said one day, his voice lifting to its usual jovial pitch, eyes gleaming with mischief. Â
You tilted your head, blinking innocently at him. âWhoâs there?âÂ
âBoo,â he said, leaning closer, the tension in the air thickening with his creeping grin. Â
âBoo, who?âÂ
His neck tilted, cracking unnaturally to the side as his microphone staff crackled with a sharp burst of static. âOh, donât cry now, dear! Youâll really have something to weep about once the fun begins!â His smile stretched wide, cutting into his cheeks as the ominous word settled into the space between you. Â
But you stared back, unfazed. âThat joke is pretty on-brand with you,â you said in the same soft monotone, nodding slightly before continuing on your way as if nothing had happened. Â
Alastorâs left eye twitched as he watched you walk away, completely unfazed. He had told you674 jokes. Six hundred and seventy-four. And not once had you cracked a smile. It couldnât be that his jokes werenât funny â that would be an outrageous, preposterous impossibility!Â
No, it had to be you. Â
No matter how many jokes fell flat, Alastor wasnât deterred. When punchlines didnât work, he decided to escalate â physical humour. Â
One afternoon, while you were quietly reading in the hotel library, he summoned a shadow tendril with the flick of his hand. It slithered across the floor silently until it reached your side, then gently wiggled under your arm. Â
A soft, startled yelp escaped you, a sound so unexpectedly cute that it nearly startled him. You looked down at the mischievous tendril, now waving back at you in playfulness. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment creeping up your neck as your eyes flicked toward Alastor, trying to understand what just happened. Â
And Alastor? He blinked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized something new about himself. There was something oddly...endearing about the sound you made. It reminded him of a small, startled puppy, and he couldnât help but want to hear it again. Â
But why?Â
Why did he suddenly crave that pathetic little noise? He almost wanted to scold himself for it, but the curiosity was far stronger. Â
A booming laugh erupted from him instead, loud and dramatic as always, masking the strange and unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His heart â what was left of it â beat harder, faster. Palpitations? After death? How bizarre.
Over time, however, things changed in subtle ways. He noticed how easily you fit into his life, sliding into his routine with an almost unnerving grace. Somehow, without ever asking, you convinced him to join you for breakfast each morning. While you quietly nibbled on toast with jam or a simple egg, Alastor would indulge in more ...exotic fare â perhaps a raw deer carcass or the seared flesh of a particularly deserving sinner. Yet, your expression never wavered. No grimace. No disgust. Â
There was something oddly comforting about your presence at the breakfast table, the quiet companionship as the two of you sat together. Alastor hadnât realized how much he missed that â true companionship â since arriving in Hell. Surrounded by chaos and destruction, he hadnât noticed the absence of something so simple, so human. Â
He didnât mind the morning with you. In fact, he began to look forward to them. Â
Days blurred into weeks, and then months. Despite the time you spent together, Alastor had still never seen you smile. Occasionally, he thought he caught the faintest hint of something â a softening in your eyes, perhaps, when you glanced his way â but it never quite reached your lips. At this point, he figured he was smiling enough for both of you. Â
Then, something strange happened. He stopped obsessing over making you smile. Somewhere along the line, it ceased being a game or a challenge. He just...stopped. And as for what he was doing with you now? He wasnât entirely sure. Â
He found himself becoming more involved in your daily life, his presence intertwining with your routine. He shared more meals with you. He strolled beside you through town, spinning tales of his past, both in life and in Hell, as you listened with quiet, patient attention. Â
And now, here he was, sitting next to you in the library, the two of you reading in comfortable silence, side by side. Â
Your arms barely touched, but when you turned a page and the lightest brush of your arm grazed his, Alastor found himself leaning ever so slightly toward you. The movement was so subtle, so imperceptible, that even he wasnât sure why he did it. Â
But he didnât pull away. Â
âROOOWRRR!â A ghastly yowl echoed through the halls, followed by a chorus of scream â most notably, Charlieâs. Her frantic voice rang out, sharp and panicked. Â
âALASTOR!â Charlieâs scream tore down the hall, urgent and distressed. Â
You jolted in place as you instinctively turned to Alastor. Confusion and a flicker of fear danced across your face. Without thinking, Alastorâs hand reached out, patting your arm in what should have been a casual gesture. Â
Yet, it felt different â this was the first time heâd touched you in an attempt to comfort. His eyes flickered down to where his hand rested against your skin, realizing the weight of the act. Suddenly, he pulled back as if he had been burned, his fingers tingling from the contact. Â
Clearing his throat, he straightened up, trying to cover his uncharacteristic slip with a wide, winning smile. âAh, itâs nothing to worry your silly head about, darling! Just...that thing again. Visits every three years, though itâs a bit early this time,â he said, his tone light as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate. Â
âThat...thing?â You tilted your head, your wide eyes full of innocent curiosity and a touch of lingering uncertainty. Your shoulders hunched in slightly, unconsciously trying to make yourself smaller, to shrink away from whatever chaos awaited in the lobby. Â
Alastorâs gaze softened, and an unfamiliar urge tugged at him. He wanted to rub your back in reassurance, to ease the tension in your frame. He had hugged Rosie, hugged Mimzy â so surely, hugging you wouldnât be any different. Â
Yet as his eyes traced the delicate line of your figure, he froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the heat crawling up from his core to his cheeks, unbidden and unfamiliar. The feeling, strange and sudden, made his left eye twitch.Heartburn? Now, of all times?
âItâs nothing, darling,â Alastor assured, folding his hands neatly behind his back, masking the odd sensation that threatened to rise. âYou might as well come and see for yourself â it's quite the hideous little thing,â he added with a smirk, trying to inject a bit of humour. Â
Curiosity lit up your face, your lips parting in a soft gasp, eyes gleaming. âA hideous little thing?â you asked, your voice gentle as you picked up your pace to walk beside him. Â
He couldnât help but notice that each of his strides required you to take two steps to keep up. Without much of a thought, he slowed his pace until you matched him easily. âYes, hideous and annoying. Iâve repeatedly told everyone not to feed it, yet here we are,â he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mild distaste as you approached the source of the chaos. Â
When you reached the lobby, your eyes widened in pure awe. There, bouncing off the walls with a guttural yowl, was a red-furred four-legged creature the size of a cat. Its eyes were comically pointed outward, each one staring in opposite directions, and the tufts of black tipped fur on its ears bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastorâs own. To top it off, the creature sported a monocle on its left eye â just like Alastorâs. Â
âAlastor!â Vaggieâs voice cut through the air as she stood in the centre of the room, sweating and pointing an accusatory finger at the beast. âDeal with Catastor!âÂ
Your eyes darted to Alastor. âCatastor?â you repeated, the name settling on your lips as you tried to suppress the amusement creeping into your voice. Â
Alastor sighed, his grin never faltering. âYes, Catastor. Donât ask,â he muttered, casting the creature a look of pure disdain. He turned his attention to Vaggie, his grin tightening as his eyes narrowed. âIâve told you many times, that thing looks nothing like me,â he spat, thrusting the head of his staff toward the red-furred creature now lazily stretching its body and wiggling around the room, seemingly oblivious to the chaos it had caused. Â
âReally?â you mused, stepping forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. âIt does look a bit like you,â you teased, inching closer to the bizarre creature. Â
Alastorâs gaze darted to you, and his voice lowered, an edge of warning in his tone. âCareful, darling. That thing has a taste for sinners,â he muttered, grimacing. âConsidering, it always manages to sneak into my stockpile of them.âÂ
The beast, as if sensing the conversation was about it, suddenly lunged in your direction. Alastorâs eyes widened in horror. His heart leapt into his throat as he instinctively reached out, but before he could summon even a flicker of his power to protect you, you had already acted. Â
With surprising grace, your hands slid under the creatureâs armpits, effortlessly catching it mid-lunge. You cradled it as though it were nothing more than a stray kitten. âHello again,â you cooed softly, your voice calm, eyes brightening with a gentle warmth as you tilted your head in amusement.Â
The room was a mess â the lights still swayed from the beastâs earlier rampage, and a bit of the floorboard lay shattered and torn across the space. Everyoneâs hair was in disarray, save for Alastor and you. Â
Offering an apologetic smile, you looked around. âIâm sorry,â you said softly, glancing at the others. âI didnât know we werenât supposed to feed him.âÂ
Alastor blinked, too stunned to respond. You held the creature against your chest, your fingers tenderly petting its head, and to his utter disbelief, the beast â this monstrous, chaotic thing â melted in your hands. Its lower half sagged like goo, limp and boneless, as you held it up by its torso. Â
A burst of laughter slipped from your lips, light and full of joy. âSilly boy,â you murmured, playfully bopping the creatureâs nose. Then, you looked up at Alastor, your eyes curved in a gentle, delighted line, and your smile â radiant and bright â struck him like a punch to the gut. âI promise Iâll take care of him properly, so he doesnât cause any more trouble. Could he stay?âÂ
âAbsolutely-â Alastor began, his voice rising in protest, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze was glued to your lips, curved in that dazzling smile. He hadnât even noticed the creature snuggling closer to your chest, its purrs filling the air like a mocking reminder of its victory. That hideous, absurd thing had succeeded where he had failed for months. Â
Before he could fully voice his objection, Angel Dustâs voice broke through the moment. âWait - youâve been feeding it?â Angel coughed, climbing out from beneath the rubble, dusting himself off. âAnd that thing didnât try to eat you?âÂ
Vaggie, eyes narrowed, stomped her foot in frustration. âHow do you know it tries to eat people, Angel? Did you feed it too?âÂ
Angel shrugged, glancing at her sheepishly. âMaybe...âÂ
Alastorâs eye twitched, irritation surging through him. Months â months of trying to get you to smile, and now, here you were, beaming because of that disgusting creature. He clenched his jaw, attempting to suppress the growing wave of annoyance. Â
Vaggie shot a glare toward Charlie, groaning in exasperation. âNo...donât tell me. Have all of you been feeding Catastor after Alastor explicitly told us not to?âÂ
Alastor gritted his teeth, the growing resentment gnawing at him. The fact that the creatureâs name had been twisted to mimic his own was an insult he could barely stand. He opened his mouth, ready to snap with a biting retort, but before he could, you stepped in front of him. Â
The beast had fully stretched, wrapping its long, serpentine torso around your neck like a scarf, purring contentedly as it nuzzled into you. Alastorâs eyes flickered between the creature and your smiling face, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shift. Â
That smile â your smile â he'd been chasing it for so long. And now that it was here, he wasnât sure what to do with the flutter of emotions tangled up inside him. Â
âAlastor, if he causes any trouble, Iâll-â you faltered, eyes scanning the floor, searching for words before meeting his gaze. âIâll deal with the consequences. So, c-could you give him a chance? I promise Iâll take good care of him, we-we'll stay out of trouble!â Your voice wavered, eyes pleading, as your once hopeful smile slowly began to shrink. Â
Alastorâs eyes flicked to the red-furred beast lounging lazily around your neck. The creature had been nothing but a nuisance, sneaking into his stock of food and leaving foul messes all over his bayou. The obvious answer was no. It was so clear in his mind â he could already see himself punting the cat-like creature far across the pentagram, dusting his hands of the whole ordeal. Â
But as your smile withered, and your eyes searched his, slowly realizing the inevitable refusal, something tugged at his chest. That sinking look in your eyes...it ate away at him. Â
The obvious answer was no. Â
But instead...Â
âI swear,â he began, his tone sharp, deliberate. âIf that thing causes any hint of trouble in my room, particularly, Iâm going to eat that cat.â He enunciated each word, his grin widening as he flashed his sharp teeth, shooting a glare at the foul creature. In response, the creature mockingly stuck its tongue out at him, which only further soured his mood. Â
What surprised him was how your face lit up â how your eyes widened, shimmering with joy, and how your once solemn expression now blossomed into something so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. You grabbed his hands in your excitement, shaking them up and down with a bubbling laughter that filled the air like music. Â
âOh, thank you, thank you!â you exclaimed, laughter spilling from your lips like sunshine. Â
Alastor stood frozen, utterly stunned. He stared at you, his grinning mask forced on as he took in the sight of your laughter, the warmth of your smile. It was as if something inside him had cracked open â he hadnât realized how much he wanted to see you like this, to hear that laughter, to witness the unfiltered joy in your face. Â
His heart pounded against his rib cage, thrumming in his ears like a chaotic rhythm, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the strange, unfamiliar sensation washing over him. Â
How had you managed to convince him to take care of that beast? That thing would undoubtedly invade every corner of your life... and, by extension, his. Â
He couldnât understand it. Â
Was he ill? Dying?Â
But then you called his name, your voice soft, sweet, still laced with that bright smile that now adorned your face as if it always belonged there. And in that instant, he knew. With dawning horror, he realized what was happening. Â
His tongue felt heavy, his chest unbearably tight, and his left eye twitched erratically. He took a giant step backward, trying to ground himself, then another, and another, until he melted into the shadows, disappearing without a word. Â
Alastor realized, with a deep, unsettling dread, that he fancied you. Â
Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!
#vexitober 2024#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x reader#alastor x reader fluff#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hazbin x you#alastor fluff#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel radio demon#radio demon#hazbin fluff#hazbin x y/n#hazbin x reader#alastor hazbin x y/n#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fandom#radio demon hazbin hotel
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Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy
A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!
Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?
âI really want to see that.âÂ
You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question.Â
He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a âYou better survive this, kid,â but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again.Â
âY/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.âÂ
âI really do, though.â Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water.Â
If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view.Â
Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie.Â
âYou better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.âÂ
His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed.Â
âWe're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,â one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you.Â
âYes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.âÂ
You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now.Â
âI'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,â you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt.Â
âY/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.â The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket.Â
âOnly if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.â You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure.Â
You needed to make your need for him explicit.Â
âI mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.âÂ
His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny.Â
âI know. I'll see you at the hospital.âÂ
âAt the hospital? Risky, I like it.â You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property.Â
âWait, not the hospital! Those beds arenât comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!âÂ
You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still.Â
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
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đ§đšđ đŹđš đ«đšđŠđđ§đđąđ đŠđšđŠđđ§đđŹ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđ đ€đđŠđđđšđ€đš đŹđȘđźđđ
ft: tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, genya shinazugawa
Genlas canon Iâm ufotable so what if I made a kny oc bcs of genya đŁïž ă»ignore how half of these are about sleep
# tanjiro ! â
TANJIRO is such a sweetheart, he really is. But when it comes to sticking to a schedule, he does not make any shortcut or excuses to what will happen. Whatever the schedule says goes no ifs ands or buts. Thankfully he only uses a morning routine anyways.
He had heard from both Rengoku and Mitsuri that having a morning schedule is very good to prepare you for the day. So tanjiro has one to! He tries to get you to follow the routine along with him but you would rather stay in bed instead..
The moment the sun begins to rise is the time Tanjiro wakes up as well. Itâs almost as if his body had a set in clock to wake him up. He already gets himself up before he comes and âpestersâ you, who is still sound asleep when heâs ready to start the day. Tanjiro only pokes your cheek trying to get you to wake up.
You only groan turning your body over as you already know what heâs waking you up for. âTanjiro I donât even think the sun is up yet..â you mumble putting a pillow over your head. Tanjiro only silently laughs before replying âThat doesnât mean we canât wake up either, if we donât go fast weâre going to miss our time to train before leaving!â He only flashes a beaming smile, you wished to see that smile in your dreams right now instead.
# zenitsu ! â
If he had to be honest ZENITSU is unironically really clumsy. Sometimes heâs doing it to get a laugh out of you, but other times heâs genuinely falling. He canât help it! It used to be something that happened every now and then but itâs almost become more of a habit of his now.
Even if everybody knows he really is just clumsy, if your around without fail heâll try to play it off like it was on purpose. If your around and heâs already mid fall heâs going to try and stick the landing to make it seem like he was being funny and just doing it on purpose. Other times when itâs too late to cover up his mistake he tries to cover it up with a cheesy pick up line.
Youâre only sharpening your sword, admiring the peace until itâs disrupted once again. You can hear a very familiar voice chanting your name as the voice only grows closer and closer. You turn around to see zenitsu rushing towards you after turning a corner, and from what you can tell he has a couple of flowers in his hand.
Itâs only when he gets closer is when he somehow manages to trip on whatever was in his path. He comes tumbling towards you as you rush to his aid only to see him quickly put a rose in his mouth. He stares at you with a prideful gaze as you bite back a laugh. You canât hold it in anymore once he screams howling something along the lines of âTHE ROSE POKED ME!!â
# inosuke ! â
Sleeping around INOSUKE is no fun at all. He normally has a lot of energy so staying up late is a given, if you manage to actually fall asleep before he does your lucky. If he even manages to get tired and get close to a bed youâre doomed.
When inosuke is asleep there is nothing that is going to wake him up except himself. He is stone cold asleep meaning whatever he does do in his asleep is a complete ball game to deal with. Itâs obvious that he is going to be uncomfortably loud, but he really handsy and not in the romantic way at all..
You groan on the edge of the bed as the cold air breezes against you, an hour before you were very much comfortable in the bed, alone at least. The moment inosuke toppled into bed was when everything came to an end. He took all the blankets for himself, he sprawled out taking up most of the space, and did this all while asleep already.
Not to mention the fact he was almost louder than when kyojuro when heâs talking whenever he snores. Every other moment the room rattles with how loud he is. To the point where you get so fed up you grab the one pillow you can find and move to sleep on the couch. It was much easier falling asleep on the couch, the only problem is when you woke up you find inosuke still completely asleep on top of you.
# kanao ! â
A lot of people donât realize that KANAO can be unusually blunt. Around you she feels more open to speak her mind about something and without realizing it. Her words can come out much more harsh than she had originally intended it.
When sheâs around you sheâs much more careful at watching her tongue, as she obviously does not wish to hurt your feelings. Which she is really good at!! But if you ask for honest criticism she canât say that she wonât hold back even on you.
You stare at kanaoâs paper as she continues to sketch the treeline in the window Infront of the both of you. Youâre impressed by her eye for art and even wonder if she could give you some tips as well. Itâs not like you havenât been practicing after all! âKanao? Would you mind giving me some tips on how to improve my drawing? Honest criticism please.â You ask the girl as she turns to you. Kanao stares down at your drawing seeing what she believes is a samurai down on your paper.
She looks up back at you taking a deep breath before saying, âwell your drawing isnât near accurate to what time period I assume youâre going for. The proportions are off, the armor plates arenât in the right place, the blade is incorrect, the legs arenât even or balance the upper body.â Your jaw drops as kanao only looks back at you putting a hand on your shoulder. âI could help you if you like.â She hopes this would make up for shock she put on your face
# genya ! â
While GENYA can normally keep things together, there are times where he doesnât keep track how long he has been a demon. Itâs rare considering he normally on a mission for this to ever really happen, but it doesnât mean it hasnât.
The mission had gone well to say the least but everything had gone on for so long. Task after task, minute after minute Genya had become more weary and more irritable. By the time he was actually released he couldnât care about anything except going to bed. On the plus side it would mean he could see your face as well.
When he finally made it to the inn you to weâre staying at he didnât think twice about immediately moving towards the bedrooms. He failed to see his reflection or acknowledge how loud his footsteps were moving around the house. You groggily open your eyes startled awake by the incoming noise, you donât remember anybody staying with you. Not until a shadow peers through the doorway.
You turn around to see yellow eyes stand out from the dark hallway. They pierce menacingly almost into the room your in, slowly creeping closer in the dark. Naturally you scream but your surprised when the figure screams to. It stumbles around the room until it can see its own reflection. Itâs only then when you realize itâs just genya who didnât even realize he was a demon himself. He only mumbles out a small âohh..â before climbing into bed to try and trying to apologize to you..
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#x reader#fluff#kny#@.komoboko writes#headcanon#kny fluff#kamaboko squad x reader#kamaboko squad#tanjiro x reader#zenitsu x reader#inosuke x reader#kanao x reader#genya x reader#genya shinazugawa x reader#kanao tsuyuri x reader#inosuke hashibira x reader#zenitsu agatsuma x reader#tanjiro kamado x reader
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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.
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Spy x Family Chapter 103: Peace and Family
How nice it was to see the Forgers go on an outing again!
A few things to notice...
I'll start with Twiyor hehehe:
This is easily my favorite panel in the chapter. They're getting closer and closer!! Loid sits first, Yor follows. She's not shy about siting next to him. Good for you, Yor! đ
See how comfortable they are with each other? She has a soft smile and he's not pretending anything; he's just there, existing. By the way, observe their body language: Both of Yor's knees are pointing at her husband, she's also leaning slightly towards him. Twilight, on the other hand, sits at a more neutral position, still it's an open position. Notice how one of his knees is pointing at her too. And their hands are mirroring each other.
It's worth mentioning that Yor is such a good influence on Twilight. This man suffers from anxiety and it's hard for him to turn his brain off and just relax. Yor reminds him of this. She is his peace đ
And look at Twilight being honest with his wife and admitting something very true about himself (that it's hard for him to stay still). I believe that every time Twilight is honest with Yor, they get closer. In this chapter there wasn't even a fake twiyor moment for this to happen. We're making progress!
Also, did you notice Yor teased Loid?
It is the sacred duty of a wife to tease her husband and call him old every once in a while đ€Ł I'm glad Yor is finally fulfilling this fun wifely obligation đ
All joking aside, it's pretty obvious Yor feels much more comfortable with Loid now. When they are with other people, she still gets nervous, probably because she thinks she could mess up and blow their cover. However, when they are alone, she seems much more relaxed and able to make comments like this that show that she trusts Loid enough to joke with him, to tell him in between lines that she notices things about him (just as he notices everything about her) and that she worries about him too.
Endo is a master of "show, don't tell" and he's been showing us how Twilight and Yor are getting closer little by little. It's in every detail: their body language, the way they talk to each other, the words they use, how they see each other.
Another example in this chapter? Twilight is incapable of saying "no" to his wife hehehe.
Yup, he still has that shoujo filter attached to his eyes when it comes to Yor.
Now that we have overanalyzed Twiyor, it's time for some crazy theories.
This could be important!
Don't you find it funny that each gave a different answer according to their experience?
Yor feels lonely, because she doesn't feel like she's normal enough to belong to society and it's hard for her to make friends.
Twilight got separated from his his herd. His family and friends died and he had to go to a different country, where he is scared and feels in constant danger just like Belle.
AND ANYA?! I'm wondering if this is a clue. I'm wondering if Anya is a missing person, meaning someone is looking for her, whether it's Project Apple or her biological family.
Talking about Project Apple, we seem to get crumbs every once in a while. I believe it's still too early to get an arc that will actually involve Anya and Project Apple together, but we'll know more as the story moves forward. It's a good sign that Project Apple is in Twilight's mind; he has good instincts for this. We may see him or Yor get involved with it in one of their missions before we learn Anya's past. OR either of her parents may discover what Project Apple is really about without knowing one of the test subjects is their own daughter.
Something that Anya has said several times is that her parents are dangerous people. It's easy to forget about this, but it's true. Twilight and Yor are very dangerous, but not for Anya. The day they find out someone hurt their little girl, it'll be a very bad day for all the people who participated in Project Apple.
#spy x family#twiyor#sxf#spy x family manga#spyxfamily#spy x family analysis#spy x family meta#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#loidyor
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â sleepover
pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader
contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual
summary: milesâ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630
New york. The city that never sleeps.
The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomedâalso the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with easeâbut nowâ was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.
And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.
After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldnât even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.
Fun, right?
Yeah, well you thought itâd be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.
The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didnât, it wouldnât matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.
Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.
You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasnât necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, youâd always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show youâd put on in the background begging for the same attention youâd give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.
But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.
âBaby?â Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.
Silence.
Heâd said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.
âI know youâre awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when youâre asleep it slows down to five.â
You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. âOkay, now thatâs just creepy.â
âPeople who are asleep donât laugh!â he quipped.
A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadnât the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.
âYes, Miles?â
âCan you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?â The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.
You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. âNo, I canât fall asleep either.â
âI think I know why.â he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.
âMiles,â you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. âYour mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.â grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.
He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadnât even opened his mouth yet.
âBut how is that fair?â he complained, sounding exasperated. âWe take naps together all the time when youâre here, I just wanna cuddle with you.â he sulked, as if you were the one whoâd come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.
You rolled your eyes at him, âWell, yeah. But thatâs during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I donât think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,â The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. ââŠobvious reasons.â
He impishly raised a brow as if he didnât know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.
âAnd what reasons are those?â Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.
Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you werenât going to get yourself out of this. âYou know exactly what Iâm talking about.â
His hand gestured to the air, plainly. âWell obviously. But still, weâre not dumb. Thatâs why I always take you to the roof when weââ
âMiles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!â
He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.
âThis is not going to help us fall asleep.â your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.
He hummed. âExactly, meaning thereâs only one thing left to try.â Slow to catch on, you didnât realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.
A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.
âWhat are youâ?â
He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.
âShhh, trying to sleep.â murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.
Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute agoâ your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.
âYour mom is not going to be happy with us.â you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.
âItâs worth it. Iâll happily take the blame,â he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. âI love youâŠâ The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.
âI love you, Miles.â
â extra scene
Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.
Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.
âWell, I coulda toldâya that would happen.â Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.
âOw!â
Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. âI am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ÂĄTu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)â she griped, gesturing towards Milesâ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.
Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. âWhy is he only my son when he does something you donât like? We made him together!â
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