#dont carry any illusions

[codesquire]

Joe Biden is a "better human"?

Aiding in Genocide ain't being a "better human," brah.

[peterparkersnose]

Lovers and Love.

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: pregnancy (if you don't like don't read), descriptions of morning sickness, anxiety, angst, illusions to sex

a/n back to your regularly scheduled program i dont wanna hear it i don’t write pregnancy stories often (i say this with a modern day au pregnancy joel fic in my drafts). literally my third in a year (back during my wattpad days I would solely write pregnancy stories. ew). i really like how this turned out though, the length is good

summary Y/N tries to hide that she is pregnant and Joel finds out

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 8 mins 47 seconds

“What’s filling that pretty head of yours lately?” Joel asked between each chop of the wood.

“Oh, nothing.” you lied.

“You looked mighty focused on that rock just a minute ago.”

“Better than looking at you chopping wood,” you scoffed sarcastically, getting Joel’s scent off your trail.

What you were really thinking about? The last time you got your period.

Each swing of the axe made you cringe. You begged to think of something different, but the thought had filled your mind for the past few days when your expected period didn’t arrive.

You and Ellie had swept out an old convenience store about a month ago. Ellie found some period products and gave some to you and it made you think.

When was the last time you got your period?

Ever since you were a child you dreamed of being a mother. Raising a family with someone you loved. But when the world fell to cordyceps, that idea was quickly left in the past with every other hope and dream you ever had.

This was no environment for an adult, let alone a child. A baby was an absolute no. The constant crying would attract any creature in a mile radius. It wouldn’t get the proper nutrition babies needed to grow. And giving birth in this world was a borderline death sentence.

And your baby’s daddy? The man you had been hooking up with on the low.

He was meant to move the cargo. You assisted the cargo and made sure it behaved.

It wasn’t your fault when Ellie was captured by David and you and Joel had to hide out in a shed one night alone.

Or maybe that time Ellie went out hunting.

Or the time Joel had to cover your mouth and tell you to shut up because she was asleep in the next room.

You knew Ellie wasn’t a dumb kid, but you were just praying she wasn’t that smart.

But pregnancy tests were nonexistent. Most of them you assumed would be expired. Can pregnancy tests even expire? And condoms, come on. It would honestly be funny if Joel pulled one out as a joke. There was no way any of those were still in use at least five years after the breakout.

“Y/N!” Joel yelled, catching your attention. The volume of his voice caught you off guard. “What’s wrong with you, seriously?” he scoffed, flipping his axe in his hand.

Brushing him off, you helped him carry wood into the small abandoned cabin you had found for the night.

Ellie was sitting on the matted couch with her leg resting on top of the coffee table in what was left of the living room. If you squinted, it looked almost normal. No clickers, no cannibals, just a normal world, a normal Ellie sitting in a normal house.

You needed to quickly get the idea of a normal world out of your head. It wasn’t here anymore. You couldn’t hope and dream like you used to. It wasn’t the time for fantasy land anymore. This was serious shit.

“Thank god, I am fucking freezing!” Ellie announced, rubbing her hands together.

Joel dropped his few planks of wood on the ground. “I’m gonna go look for some blankets and supplies upstairs. Ellie, help Y/N with the fire.”

Ellie groaned and slammed her feet on the floor one by one from the coffee table dramatically. You could already imagine the eye roll she had just given him.

You began arranging the logs into a nice stack. Joel had cut enough to easily last you through the night and maybe into the morning.

“You doin’ okay?” Ellie asked, searching through her backpack for the matches. “Mhm,” you lied, watching her scratch the match and throw it in the dry fireplace.

“Joel said something about-” “It doesn’t matter what Joel said.” you cut her off. Ellie rested back on her legs. She was very obviously disappointed you wouldn’t tell her what was wrong.

Was it really that obvious?

“What did I say now?” Joel asked from the banister. He was carrying blankets in his hands he found in the bedrooms. He had a big smile plastered on his face that only widened when your eyes met his.

Just imagine how he would be. Carrying down blankets for you and your child to make a fort together. Making popcorn and watching a movie as the sky became dark. The child would fall asleep in your arms and the two of you would stare at each other and appreciate the world, the life you made together.

You broke eye contact with him and shook your head.

How could you let yourself think like that?

“That I was the best clicker killer in the group.” Ellie made up, lightening the mood. “Oh really now?” Joel chuckled, throwing all of the sheets down on Ellie.

“Oh thank god, warmth.” she sighed, wrapping herself in as many blankets as she could hold.

You snatched a blanket from Ellie with a smirk and moved in front of the fire. You saw the sun setting from one of the still intact windows. Joel made the bold move of laying directly next to you. Normally you would have been so touched by this little bit of public affection (even though the definition of public, for now, was just Ellie), but you were so exhausted by your mind games from the day that you couldn’t care less.

Ellie curled up next to you. She moved into your chest, wrapping her arms around one of yours. Poor Joel, Ellie got all your affection tonight after all.

After a few minutes, she was asleep.

“You wanna meet upstairs in a bit? Tell her your takin’ a piss or something.” Joel whispered in your ear. His wide hand touched your back, making you tense. He was craving your touch you could tell. It had been a few weeks since your last hookup. “No. Not tonight,” you whispered back, pulling Ellie closer.

“Hey,” he said in a low tone. You turned your head to look at him. “What’s really goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “I know when your lying.” he sighed. “Joel, drop it.” you hissed.

Ellie’s head looked up at yours. You felt the movement and immediately reacted.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. Go back to sleep now,” you said sweetly to her, brushing her hair to the side of her face. You could tell Joel noticed how you called her baby girl. That’s what he called her.

“What’s happening?” she asked groggily. “Nothing important. Now back to sleep. We need our energy for tomorrow.” You gave her a reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

Ellie nodded and resumed back to her sleeping spot in your arms.

Joel now sat against the couch, watching the two of you interact.

After a moment of silence to make sure Ellie was asleep again, he spoke.

“You would make a great mother one day.”

Your head whipped around and the look on your face said it all.

“With Ellie ‘n stuff. Sorry,” Joel muttered, rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans nervously. The man never usually let his guard down and say vulnerable things like that and you could tell he was disappointed by your reaction.

“Good night Joel,” you said sincerely. He was right. Ellie was like a little sister to you.

On the brink of sleep, you heard him throw another log on the fire. Blankets shuffled and there was a defining silence. Then the thought hit you.

There was no way he knew, right?

-

The faces matched so perfectly but yet were so different. Joel stood in a kitchen, the kitchen in the house you grew up in. You followed the scent of some sort of food and wandered into the kitchen. Your balance seemed off to you. Looking down, you were met by a large bump. No toes could be seen.

“Mama!” you heard. Your head whipped around to the kitchen table. It was the same oak as you remembered it. A baby sat in a high chair. It had curly (your color hair) and Joel’s eyes. It scared you how fast you recognized his features. Unremarkably, they were copied onto the baby's face. “Come on now, eat your breakfast,” Ellie said, encouraging the child. She appeared next to them with a spoon in her hand, making airplane noises as the child laughed.

“Ellie! Did you finish your homework?” Joel asked her. The oh-so-familiar groan escaped from her lips.

“Yes… maybe…” she began to say as the dream began to fade.

You shot upright, breathing heavily. Then the feeling arose from your stomach.

“Y/N?” Joel asked, shielding his face from the sun rays displaying over his eyes. He watched you run to the kitchen that was left of the living room.

The kitchen sink was the victim of your vomit.

Joel quickly stood up and went to your side. His hand returned to its spot from the previous night.

“It’s okay,” he said. You could tell he was trying to calm you, but it also sounded like he was trying to calm himself.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks as the vomiting came to an end.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “No, no. Stop, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Joel… please,” you stuttered. You embraced him. His surprisingly warm figure held yours tightly. “It’s okay,” he said again.

“You want to try to go back to sleep?” he asked you. Hesitantly, you shook your head yes.

Thank god Ellie was a deep sleeper when she had been asleep for a while. You could just imagine her putting the puzzle pieces together and announcing it without a second thought. She is a smart girl.

Joel held you on the wood floor. The two of you didn’t care if Ellie woke up to find your embrace. Sleep didn’t return to you, but a sense of peace did. You forgot about the world, the pregnancy, the cold, and the anger for just a moment. It was just you and Joel. The way it should be.

-

“Good morning Mom and Dad,” Ellie said, poking her foot into your shoulder.

Your eyes fluttered open from their relaxed state. “Go find some breakfast and shut it.” you hissed at her. Joel adjusted his hold on you, sighing in your ear.

“Some kid, huh?” he whispered.

“Tell me about-”

“Eugh! What the hell happened here?” Ellie yelled from the kitchen.

“I got food poisoning. Leave it,” you yelled to the kitchen, coming up with your best lie.

“Before we leave you should look upstairs. I thought I saw some clothes you might like. Warmer for the winter too,” Joel grunted, sitting up straight and stretching his arms behind his back.

Using the coffee table to help you up, you trotted across the cold floor and made your way upstairs.

The first bedroom was empty. The second had a few long sleeve tee shirts and a pair of jeans that would fit you. At least for now. You picked up a sweatshirt for Ellie and a book she might like.

The third bedroom seemed to be a children’s room. You were going to look for something smaller for Ellie, but when you opened the first drawer you were met with rows of baby clothes.

Your hands ran over the patterns on the onesies. A baby girl had lived here. Your heart ached as you tried not to think about what her fate had possibly been.

You opened another drawer and it was filled with baby shoes. The memories of swooning over the baby shoes at the store when you were younger filled your mind. The memory of little Y/N mentally picking out which shoes her baby would wear one day warmed your heart.

Opening the top drawer again, you looked through the clothes. You let yourself choose four, one for each season. Easy enough to keep hidden in your backpack. You were too busy looking at the clothes to notice Joel leaning against the doorframe.

You only noticed him when you turned to put the clothes into your backpack.

Audibly gasping, you dropped your bag on the ground along with the onesies.

“I… I-”

“Don’t,” Joel sighed. He bent down and grabbed your bag along with the baby clothes.

“You really thought I didn’t know?” he chuckled, slowly opening the zipper to your backpack.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, face burning red. It’s all you could manage to say. Your brain felt numb.

“No, Y/N. It takes two, remember?” he smiled, holding up a onesie in front of him.

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he chuckled, beginning to fold the clothes. You stared at him astonished.

He was taking this news surprisingly well. You expected him to leave you somewhere, or even worse. The fact that he was smiling and folding clothes for a baby in this world was shocking.

“How did you know?” you asked him. He gave you the side eye and smirked. “I know your body like the back of my hand. I just have to close my eyes and…”

Joel closed his eyes and the stupidest grin grew on his face.

“Stop it!” you blushed, giving him a playful slap on the arm. “I notice things, darling,” he said, assuring you everything was right.

“How long have you known?” you asked him. You nervously dragged your finger across the dresser’s carved pattern. “Week maybe. Figured it was either that or you were hidin’ a bite. I prayed you were pregnant instead of bitten.”

“You also were avoiding me as much as you could,”

You looked at your shoes. “I really just didn’t want to think about… you. This.” you admitted.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart. Pick a few more, I have room in my bag.”

You opened the drawer again and went for your second pics.

“Your not mad?” you asked him. “I’m not thrilled. When I figured it out it wasn’t fun. But now…”

“What about now?” you asked him. Joel sighed.

“If I heard right…” he began.

“My shithead little brother has started a settlement up in Jackson.”

“Tommy?” you asked, folding a pair of baby shorts. “Get ‘sum them shoes too,” Joel muttered, pulling at the handle of the drawer.

“Jackson’s about a few day ride from here. I can't guarantee he’ll be happy to see me but it’s our best hope.” he assured you, placing his hand back on your back. This time you accepted his touch and pushed back on it.

You both agreed that would be the next step in your journey.

“Any name suggestions?” he asked you, handing you back your backpack.

“Jesus Joel, I haven’t even thought about that.” you said, swinging it on your back.

“What about Ellie Junior?” you heard her ask from the hall.

You and Joel made quick eye contact and then looked back at Ellie. Your mouth fell slightly open. The fear expressed over your face, you were basically a deer in headlights.

She walked into the bedroom with a shameful look on her face. “I wasn’t trying to listen I promise. This house seems to echo.”

The t

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise  @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @mxtokko ​

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Digital drawings of two original characters in black and white. The Ferrier wears a black, wide-brimmed hat; a shirt with puffy sleeves and an embroidered collar, cuffs, and hem; a vest with geometric patterns; a black, sleeveless overcoat with two lighter stripes near the hem; loose pants; and black sandals. They appear to have short, messy black hair, and their hat casts a shadow over their eyes.

The Sacrifice's clothes are almost entirely white and intricately embroidered. They wear a loose, long-sleeved shirt; a cropped and wide-collared vest which is buttoned together; dimije (voluminous pants which are gathered at the ankle); a cap with coins sewn into the sides; a very long veil which ends in tassels and is pinned to the cap; a necklace of coins; a belt of large metallic roundels; and black shoes. They have long, curly black hair and several moles on their face.

In the first drawing, the Ferrier stands while wringing their hands with an extremely flat expression. The Sacrifice stands behind them and carries a bag, looking off to the side with a small smile.

Next is a comic featuring the two of them, with all of the speech bubbles being cut out from Discord screenshots. There are full descriptions of all of the pages under the cut. End image description.]

first drawing based on this painting of a peasant and nun going to the market by amedeo preziosi; comic based on a convo between me and @wildcatfourteen that reads uncannily like our ocs LOL. happy birthday my friend <33

[Image description: Page one. The Ferrier has a small smirk as they point to an image which reads, "some of y'all would melt down in this situation. ONE HAS GOT TO GO: THE EYE, THE FORMLESS, THE ECSTATIC, THE SUN, THE WOUND, THE EGG." The Sacrifice replies with a carefree smile, "how can you choose ?? are they not all as g_d ordained ??" The next panel shows that the two are sitting on opposite sides of a rowboat, which is stopped at the bank of a river going through a forest. The Sacrifice says, "i mean i guess if youre talking like which motifs i personally like to use in my hymns … i dont do much with the egg so that one" The Ferrier frowns and says, "I don't know if I can forgive u for saying that. Egg… U GET RID OF EGG?" The Sacrifice: "WHICH ONE WOULD U GET RID OF??" The Ferrier: "The ecstatic"

Page two. The Sacrifice stares in astonished silence for a moment, and then says with a cartoony vein popping from their cheek, "I think ur saying that on purpose to piss me off. to get back at me for saying ehg. Why do u hold such hate in your heart" The Ferrier closes their eyes and says nonchalantly, "I'm sorry it's not out of hate." They look off to the side and mutter, "Except u started this with ur egg slander" The Sacrifice glares at them with dismay and says, "THE HATE IN YOUR HEART IS OVERTAKING YOU" The Ferrier glares back, smiling through gritted teeth, and replies, "LOOK IN THR MIRROR"

Page three. The Ferrier pinches the bridge of their nose and says, "I can't believe this is what's causing an argument" The Sacrifice puts their hands on their hips and snaps, "I WASNT EVEN SLANDERING EGGS? IM JUST SAYING PERSONALLY IF YOU FORCED ME? I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST EGGS I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME" The Ferrier: "ITS NOT ABOUT EATINF THEM EVEN THO THEY ARE DELICIOUS AND VERSATILE." They roll their eyes and add, "Sorry for wanting to shatter my shell and be birthed anew" The Sacrifice clasps their hands together with a smile, their eyes hidden by their speech bubble, and says, "see thats the thing for me there is no rebirth only resurrection . its not dying and being birthed anew its about dying and then undying . coming back from death with none of the catharsis of newness just being forced to hold on to the old and what you once were ." The Ferrier pulls their hat down over their eyes and argues, "You say that and yet that is the whole point there is never any real birth of newness but just the illusion of it and the necessity to keep that illusion bc there is no coming back anew but taking whatever dead pieces u have and reconstructing some choppy form of a fresh creature"

Page four. The two sit in silence for a moment. Then the Ferrier says matter-of-factly, "Just like how ecstatic state is fake" The Sacrifice glares at them and says, "how DARE you say ecstatic state is fake ." The background turns black as the Ferrier's eyes go wide, gazing dramatically down at the viewer. They thunder, "ITS TEMPORARY" The Sacrifice, also on a black background, holds their palms up with an ecstatic grin. One of their eyes is teary and a bright halo flashes around their head. They answer, "AS ARE ALL THINGS."

Page five. The Ferrier, looking irritated with a cartoony vein popping from their temple, says, "fine. Fine whatever." They turn away with gritted teeth. "I'm gonna go in my egg shell and not come out EVER !!!!" The Sacrifice smiles with a thumbs up and says, "ok you do that im gonna be out here achieving union with the Beloved 👍" The Ferrier turns as far away from the Sacrifice as they can and crosses their arms. "U go do that. Hmph!" The Sacrifice does the same. "HMPH -_-" A school of black fish swims through the river. A line at the bottom of the panel reads, "THEY STAYED LIKE THIS FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS." End image description.]

[truly-a-snitch]

Hii can I request ranpo and chuuya with an s/o that has a kitsune type ability? like they can turn into one fully and can also semi transform with just the ears and tail, you can make it female or gender neutral

dang ranpo is popular LMAO not that im complaining hes my little meow meow ^_^ also i went w gn reader bc i dont write fem reader !! also u didnt say if u wanted hcs or not but i went w hcs if u wanted drabbles or fics feel free to ask again !!

WARNINGS: a bit suggestive in chuuyas but nothing explicit

---

chuuya and ranpo with a kitsune ability user s/o

chuuya

kitsune are born tricksters, being yokai, and those with kitsune abilities are certainly no different ! while your affinity for practical jokes may grate on chuuya, you are still his s/o at the end of the day

(he would NOT be dating you if he didnt want to trust me)

when you’re partially transformed (or fully transformed) he tries to watch how loud he gets since he’s not very good at volume control and he doesn’t want to hurt your ears

he likes to scratch behind your ears or pet your tail !! he does it mindlessly tbh, even though he can’t feel your fur through his gloves he likes hearing you react or feeling your ears/tail twitch

he also likes hearing and seeing your foxlike mannerisms ! he can always tell if somebody is getting on your nerves because of your gekkering, and he’s particularly fond of when you nuzzle up to him or the way you ‘shadow’ him (trailing behind him)

chuuya probably has a book or two on his bookshelf about fox mannerisms just so he understands your body language a bit better

one thing he had to get used to was just how talkative you were. foxes are very social creatures, and much of that crossed over into your personality

luckily for you, he likes listening to you talk

if you have claws, he thinks thats really cool (he's into it in a sexy way)

the shapeshifting throws him off not gonna lie. especially because you're so smart as a result of your ability. however he loves watching you mess with people by turning into other people

ranpo

ranpo is 100% THE BEST audience for your illusion tricks. he will sit next to you/in your lap/literally anywhere he can see you and demand that you do your silly little illusory tricks

he thinks your fox form is absolutely precious. he loves petting you and carrying you around on his shoulders

joins in on your pranks all the time fr !! he helps you make them more unpredictable

so far, you've gotten everybody in the agency... except dazai, who keeps seeing through your plans. you've gotten ranpo, but he 'let you' (you aren't sure if he actually did)

mimics your fox noises ! you start yapping ? he yaps back. you bark ? he barks right back !

hes been a play wrestler ever since he found out that it's a way that fox kits blow off steam. any form of physical touch is a big yes for him, but especially wrestling. it's the only way he expends energy he doesn't absolutely have to

(its probably nostalgic for you, since you likely would have done it as a child/right when your ability presented)

prank wars are common between you two as well !!

he's talkative ! he loves talking and you two will frequently go on dates where you just infodump at each other over a meal

he likes to play with your tail and ears a lot !!

[oatmealkitty]

We got a bit uhhh carried away with this one oops-

@Fox and the Bunni, Raccoon and the Goat (us lmao)

Poncho and Squeaker (and the angry bunni being hunted by a fox) @ask-dcf & @theyoshimister

Bunni and Goat Charisk (Still need to make names for UW Chara and Frisk hmmm...) @susartwork

To explain some things:

-Fox uses kitsune illusion magic on Frisky to make him Bunni. Luci can turn into a goat herself using her own magic bc vampire/demon

-He likes bunnies

-When cold he turns silver and loses fire magic (if human form, this change is signified by blu hoodie). Also his fire and any magic he casts is purple.

-Luci can make plants but roses literally kill her bc vampire. But SOMEONE likes roses so she made one anyway.

-In Duotale, Cinnabuns give you ears and tail which is how Squeaker has them

-Yes Luci can play piano. I would've added a little cover of the song but my grandma never leaves her room so :'3 Also Frisky likes wearing real fur hence the song in the first place lol

-MARGE KRUMP

☆~~~~~☆~~~~~☆

If you like our little arts that we do, you can always follow @oatmealkitty for more content, yes UT/DR included! To send any asks or read the main comic, you can check out @ask-duotale-b2fc uwu. Also, dont forget, here on tumblr a reblog is highly appreciated! ♡

[kraviolis]

someone liked one of my TOH headcanon posts from earlier this year and it reminded me about the specific headcanons i have for exactly what types of games the hexsquad plays and how they play them.

luz is obv an RPG fantasy fan. anything with a juicy story and a character creator and complex lore she’ll love. she definitely plays series like elder scrolls and baldur’s gate and final fantasy. she also plays final fantasy 14 and has her character as the good witch luzura and she isnt good at playing it like an mmo is supposed to be played but she loves the story. when endwalker came out luz couldnt stop sobbing to the point that camila was actually worried about her. also enjoys roguelikes such as hades or binding of isaac even if she can only play for so long before getting too frustrated. she also 100% plays genshin impact and gets into arguments online with other genshin fans.

amity is a fighting game girl. she is highly competitive and practices combos with her eyes shut. she prefers the tekken series but when luz wants to play with her they play guilty gear bcus luz likes it’s art style the most. she also likes fantasy RPGs but is way more picky about which ones she plays. she likes fire emblem. she also plays ff14 with luz and is actually good at the game (she carries luz sometimes) but isnt a huge fan of MMOs. she also is the one in the friend group with the NASA ass PC rig with a custom case and the most organized wiring you’ve ever seen with the lcd screen on the liquid cooled cpu and the azura figurine inside the case. she also does custom wraps for all her consoles.

hunter likes games that are very much like, micromanagement sims. like civ5 or cities skylines or factorio (i dont know anything about it but ive been assured by my sister that hunter plays modded factorio) but he’s also a fan of like, old school FPS games like doom and half life. i can see him doing speedruns of those games. (also he 100% once got addicted to some game like fuckin. galactic pinball or something to the point where he was staying up all night and not sleeping so he could play more pinball. in order to get him to stop playing so much and actually get some sleep, gus used illusions to make hunter think he was hallucinating about pinball and scared him into not looking at a single screen or monitor for like three weeks.)

gus is a very chill gamer but he likes games that he can sink hours and hours into. instead of playing a wide variety of games he has a select few that he dedicates his time into learning every last mechanic, but there’s also some games he just plays casually. like with pokemon games he’ll put hundreds of hours into them and carefully curate his team and does like nuzlocke runs but when he plays on his and willow’s shared-custody new horizons island he’ll just walk around and catch bugs and shit and not really worry about upgrading his house and make matching fits with his favorite villager.

willow prefers cozy games, like slime rancher or stardew valley or the aforementioned shared new horizons island, but she’s also a fucking menace about them. like she goes HARD on the min-maxing and automation and shit. while gus is wandering around their island catching fish, willow’s busy rearranging her fully upgraded mansion up in the hills and harassing any villagers she doesnt like with nets and deciding what hybrids to plant in front of her bell trees (she only has bell trees for the aesthetic. gus isnt allowed to harvest them) she would also be running the most high profit slime ranch ever but the way she treats her slimes makes hunter upset whenever he sees her just fuckin throwing them off a cliff the second they arent useful to her anymore. (meanwhile hunter names each one of his slimes and always feeds them their favorite foods and cried over casey & beatrix)

vee enjoys survival/strategic horror games, like DBD, resident evil, deadspace, or even FNAF. she’s the type of person to see the goriest most violent death in a video game ever and just go “ew yucky” then carry on. masha and her are often playing DBD together while in a call and are the most annoying pair of suvivors ever. she also likes games such as original katamari and pikmin 1 and chulip. she's also the undefeated DDR champion of the friend group.

and of COURSE they all play video games together. they all have a terraria world they play on together where they all are focused on their own little projects while still working together and are slowly building up their own village/mansion/castle/fort but luz keeps rushing ahead of everyone just bcus she's so excited and she definitely somehow ends up summoning the wall of flesh accidentally

they DID have a modded minecraft world for a few months with both tech mods and magic mods but while hunter, amity, and vee all focused on their factories and computers and technology, gus, willow, and luz fucked around with all the crazy magic and accidentally found out by blowing up a factory. this is where heightened tension between the the warlocks & the scientists began. this spark eventually turned into a full fledged war that lasted two months before it ended in mutually assured destruction to the point where no one could actually load into the server without their game crashing.

bonus: camila isnt much of a gamer with one exception-- when she was in college manny introduced her to WoW and got her hooked. it was Their Game that they played together all the time. they made cosplays of their characters together. they had several dates in game. they optimized their characters to perfect compliment one another when they ran dungeons with their guild. even since manny passed camila still plays every so often and keeps in touch with their guild members. for the longest time luz has 0 idea that camila plays WoW at all and only finds out after the whole secret nerd confession.

[lakesbian]

“Because I didn’t want to hurt her while she was down, I didn’t want to mess with her clothing because that’s a little creepy, and I don’t want to carry around some broken piece of metal from the sword… there aren’t any other things I could grab.”

i dont know how long its going to take for reading Book With Normal Guy In It right after Book With Taylor Hebert In It to get less funny. i can tell you right now if that little autistic freak girl were here she would have gone on a monologue to herself about how since it's all an illusion it wouldn't really hurt the faerie and then cut her heart out

[mako-neexu]

everytime i remember the lostwill episode for guda, i turn into a glitching and screaming bocchi.

illusion!da vinci saying “it’d be bad if you’re not in top shape to take down the lostbelt. replacements are common as to be practically worthless but youre the last master. oh yeah anyways we have kadoc, youre a spare now” and illusion!mueniere going “you can stop being a master now. you’re just a civilian so youre not needed anymore”

illusion!holmes’ “theres no need to worry about your sins. all those people who knew are gone now” and illusion!goredolf’s “theyre merely simulations. there is no need to feel sympathy over them. we are the winners and they are the losers”

chaldea has relied on guda so much that the weight of it cannot be measured. that’s their only purpose now. to be a Master. and to be a Master, they need to push forward the longer this kind of suffering got. “to live” they still want that, believe in that. but that meaning gets muddled everytime the tears mixed with your bloodstained hands, with the same hands you used to hold your friend yaga’s hand with, to eat with the little girl from scandinavia, to get a high five from the twins from olympus, to reach out to the people you lost.

then to holmes and goredolf’s lines: its meaningless, so why try? why try indeed... a way to have guda’s will collapse, the antithesis of what the’ve been doing in the lostbelts all this time. “its already hard for you so why dont you give up? your efforts are meaningless” they’ll disappear in the end no matter what.

isnt life meaningless? how, in the end, we’re all going to die anyways. and the only thing we can do... is to give our lives purpose. to find meaning because thats what everyone has been doing ever since the beginning.

guda thinking “relax. what does it mean to relax? someone dying in front of me, a body torn topieces in front of me... training those legs that are desperate to flee, training to clear my mind...i cant recall any other way of life now” but theyre still hoping that they’ll be able to move past the blood after all of this is over

and then GUDA ADMITTING SOMEONE WANTED TO TELL THEM THAT WHAT THEY CARRY IS A BURDEN MUCH TOO PAINFUL FOR THEM TO BEAR THAT YOU CAN LEAVE IT BEHIND AND UNFINISHED THAT YOU CAN RUN AWAY BECAUSE ITS YOUR DECISION. YOUR DECISION. YOUR LIFE. that its enough.

and to live... is to live without regrets. to move forward because you still have that ‘something’ to hold on to and reach towards. 

just like he said.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

thinking about how the department of the unfaithful is likely a thematic parallel, almost a foil, to wkx. and im not even talking about luo fumeng or liu qianqiao, im thinking of the many women working there, those that have notably no martial arts or power of their own, who are somehow part of the valley and take care of "women's work", the servants, the invisible threads that keep the machinery running. the machinery being wkx's era of ghost valley; still violent and hostile, but notably more inhabitable, with a clear direction of right and wrong.

alright, im going on a tangent, but what i mean is: everytime wkx has personally to do with these women, he is confronted with their "uselessness", their institutional weakness. they dont have any worth beyond the small acts of service they can provide; they dont have money of their own, they are not established in any way in the jianghu, they dont carry titles or achievements to their names, they are rarely portrayed as anything but unfortunate victims of their circumstances. his reflex reaction is always to send them away--out the valley, back to the human world. and he is puzzled and carefully apathetic when they remind him that they dont have anywhere to go but the valley.

im assuming that he has a hard time understanding this; hes not stupid and hes not unsympathetic to the systemic and institutional struggle women face, so im guessing he very carefully does not think about this too hard, to avoid finding parallels to his own experience. these women are prey as he used to be prey, but he is strong and established and has his martial arts now, he doesnt want anything but jump back into the human world--trying very hard not to think about what he fears is true: that there is no place for a ghost like him, and what the life h envisions with zzs is all but an illusion.

the women of the department of the unfaithful reminding him that even as weak, adorable, pretty, and as far removed from the state of ghost as they are, they are still finding it hard to edge out a life anywhere but in ghost valley and let everything remain exactly as it is, i mean, that must be difficult for him. i feel like a big part of wkx has internalized victim blaming, or that he is terrified of the invitable nature of these women's fates.

i mean, he so often looks back at the times when everything was still good and well, before he went to the valley, and im wondering if he is not thinking that he deserved what he got, and that there was nothing he could have done. he has suppressed the memory of how exactly the murder of his parents comes to pass, and he later reasons that he is the one to blame for it, because he was the one who lead the wolf into the sheep's den. so he might think, even as innocent and blameless as he was as a child, maybe it was inevitable for him to be and stay and die a ghost

[ghoulsbeard]

tagged by @jiubilant and @everybodyknows-everybodydies to share a few lines from pieces and some comments alongside... challenging... thank you both kindly for the tag :]

passing it to @ghostwise @vakarians-babe @isayashai @ervona @nuwanders @mxssrelay @favoriteblogonthecitadel @tiny-banana-time @arcann @lavampira @nulfaga & anyone who’s interested feel free… @ me if you like ! :)

I pulled some from wips & hope that’s OK

line that made you laugh

enjoy the idea that borgakh has a taste of the infamous black briar brew & is unimpressed.. all this scheming and your mead isnt even good

(it’s “watery and overpriced” in the current draft but idr where i have that version)

line that makes you sad

oblivion wip.. there are probably sadder scenes afoot but this one was hard to write down.. :(

line that you’re proud of

wanted a line that walked the church with her and i think this one got pretty close

line you think could’ve been done better

dont know where i put it but there was some line in a rabbit trail doc of an mfx draft from when id convinced myself the endgame of 3 involved someone plummeting to their death… nice idea but the logistics are a nightmare

line that makes you want to punch a character

he gets worse than this unfortunately i didnt have the heart to dig for something nastier but farwil cannot ever catch a break

line that makes you go “awww”

wee short im working over with ms druzarath if i can get baurus’ voice somewhat right

was playing a little while ago and kept thinking how young they both are

line that contains an easter egg

this is a canonical tavern!!! its real and ZITHER! played there… conceived it as a ye olde gay hookups dive bar with baffling architecture👇

line that’s shocking

this was hard… nothing ive penned down really qualifies (at least nothing that’s readable).. like this isnt shocking at all to me but i put it here bc im hoping the whole scene will be gross and a little disturbing when the next draft is done

line you want to talk about more

I THINK.. steeples my fingers…. the armor that vivienne brings to the winter palace is twofold. some of it is cleverly made so it looks like a part of her formal outfit (accessories boots etc) and for the rest (esp the breastplate, which is worn beneath her dress) she wears it the entire time and has a well woven illusion in place.

i also think she has little glowing gold wisps of ambient magic that follow her around... 1) these keep her battle-ready, in case of an assassin or any other unexpected twist and 2) she is always in perfect dreamy lighting <3

the dress she’s wearing is this floofy sleeveless ball gown with a dozen or more sheer skirts layered over top of each other and a looser (to accommodate for the armor beneath) yet fitted bodice that’s embroidered with celestial and floral patterns in subtle gold thread ... cream at first glance but within the skirts are shades of very pale gold and sky blue and even a little warm rose and when the layers move against each other as she walks or dances, the colors subtly change… its most noticeable when she twirls on the dance floor… but the iron bull was carrying the gauntlets around for her <3

[i-amyou]

Hey! Just to clarify this is not an ask(even though I am sending it as one, quite ironic haha)–I just want to thank you for being so sweet and some thoughts :) I am sure you're already aware of how relieving your blog is, similar to a breath of fresh air when you desperately need it.

I am well aware there's no progress, no searching, no need to dwell and yet your words just clicked for me, easing the burden I believed I had to carry, but now I know there's no burden, there's no person to begin with. I just find it funny how we all on some level are aware that this is only what we have created for ourselves, knowing deep within that it doesn't have to be as dramatic or painful as we make it out to be by trusting the illusion of what we created more than ourselves. (Even though all is the same "I")

So, yes, just some thoughts, even though they are unnecessary–What I mean is, I like your blog, I like the way you articulate yourself and I like the examples you provide :) 🌊

Thank you so much 🌊 anon (yeah that's what I'm calling you now, please dont mind!)

I'm glad you decided to share these thoughts with me, with us. I'm absolutely delighted to read this, glad I could help in any way and you found relief here🌼

[leslie057]

I'm gonna go with will + daddy issues, for the WIP ask game. :)

hey there :) this one is rough honestly and i dont know if it’ll ever get finished so here is a chunk of it. the part with el leads up to something else that causes more introspection but you'll just have to wonder about all that i guess

Surprisingly enough, his body itself is what wakes him. Surprising because—it’s very early.

And he didn’t have a nightmare, and there was nothing else to disrupt his rest. No din from his alarm clock on the nightstand. No gentle yet unwelcome request for him to get up made by someone in his family. No symphony of construction work sounds outside or an ongoing chickadee whistle ringing through the world like usual. It’s too early for most of that. Barely sunrise, and the world basically seems dead to him.

He simply...woke up. All there is is his body, its circadian rhythm, carrying on, without even the faintest sunlight cues. This hasn’t happened in forever.

But it happened when he was four, and it was Christmas morning. And he was up before anyone else, including Jonathan. The steady whir of his baby brain and the ripple of his warm blood were synthesized in an internal song that woke him easily, like his body just knew he wanted to be awake. He tunneled under his heavy blanket and hurried to his parents’ room, where the bed was low to the ground and the ottoman was even lower. A perfect height for climbing. He made his way up to the bed and placed himself in the wide gap between the sleeping adults. Mom was already stirring as he squeezed his dad’s bicep and burrowed into his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

Inhaling sharply, he cringed at his son’s touch and grunted. “Get off, Will," was the command. There was the illusion of a laugh somewhere inside it, gruff and ironic. "Now.”

Will didn’t obey, but his mom was quick to remove him herself. He felt her palms slip beneath his underarms and lift him smoothly off the mattress. Then he found himself being set right back down, right next to her. He doesn’t remember being upset at that. He loved his father. He was actually entertained by Dad’s roughness at the time. Reminded him of the big rugged bears that were in his animal book.

That would change, but it would change slowly.

If it were a few weeks into the future, the surprising sensation of contentment from a good night's sleep might come close to making him forget his life.

Not this morning.

Eleven isn’t there. In her bed. His bed. At least, it used to be his.

He sits up and pulls clean socks over his feet. Leaving the mattress on the floor in his wake, he begins his search. “E-el,” he calls out to the empty hallway.

The house is different. Not physically. But it feels less balanced than it was in the spring, less private. It doesn’t feel quite like home. For the past week, it’s threatened to suffocate him. He envisions some vaporous spirit creeping in each night to push the walls in closer, to force the roof in, to knock on the lightbulbs up to the point of burnout. Something isn’t right.

(Hasn't their home always been a broken one?)

Recovering has never been easy, but it has never been this hard. When he was younger, he could make better sense of things. There was still so much he didn’t know about the world (he was always being sheltered from it), so facing a monster was more mind-reshuffling than mind-bending. When you are small, you’re given a percentage of the truth. For the rest, your imagination fills in the gaps. When he crashed his bike two winters ago, nose going red from the cold that wouldn’t compare to the Upside Down’s and the wind murmuring through the trees as if to warn him, he was terrified by the image of a faceless creature flitting past, yes, but shocked? Not really. At the time, he could be no more certain of the existence of demogorgons than he was about the existence of STDs or debt or ghosts or mermaids (what?) or mortgage. And he wasn’t sure about any of those things because they fit into the various truth-gaps.

The world isn’t a complete mystery anymore. He knows that most adults are unwilling to believe in monsters. He knows that most teenage boys are, too. Most teenage boys aren’t like him. In more ways than one.

From the hallway, he can smell no pancakes, which means Jonathan went to work. So did Mom. There’s another thing that makes him different; he is the only one who doesn’t work. Guilt has been hovering over him for a while because of that. He’s fourteen. Jonathan began working his first job when he was fourteen.

But he would never be expected to carry those same responsibilities because he’s Will. He’s a casualty. A kid that rose from the dead. And a kid at heart. He’s sensitive. Breakable. (Floral.) His dad used to let him know that, his mom treats him like that. She doesn’t mean to, and that makes everything worse.

They are right, though. And growing up seems so far away.

He isn’t ready for the earth to keep spinning. (It has never stopped. When he vanished, it didn’t stop.) What he would give to go back to before. Before he was sent to “Heaven” and back and everyone had to save him and keep saving him. Bob Newby isn’t alive to remember what he saved. That is among the things which torture him the most. Whether they want to or not, dead boys cause a big fuss.

(He's always caused a fuss.)

(He just wanted his father to love him. He didn't know how to be to make that happen.)

El is nowhere to be found. That is, until he steps outside.

There, at the end of the porch, she rocks lightly in their swing with one leg hanging down.

“Hey,” he greets amicably enough, though he recognizes the awkward note in his voice.

“Hello.”

“How long have you been up?"

“Not very long,” she says, thumbing casually through the colorful magazine in her lap.

He nods and sits in a nearby chair. Already, silence stretches between them like a rope bridge, measureless and tense. They’ve rarely spent time alone before, just the two of them, and for someone who has his life-preserver-in-human-form right beside him, he has little to say. He looks instead at the overcast sky, at the thick sashes of gray threading across it, and roasts his brain for a topic of conversation.

“I'm sorry you have to share your room with me at night,” she speaks before he gets the chance.

He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.” It’s a lie.

“Thank you.”

“What are you reading?”

She flips back to the front and shows him. It’s Seventeen. An issue from January. 1979. A flushed blonde girl graces the cover, posing behind the lines cutting calories without starving, should you try to change him?, and must you tell your mother everything?

She slumps and sets it on the swing. With her head down, she scrapes at her nail beds. All peeled and infected. Some of the exposed skin is dark. The broken tissue is trying to repair itself.

Some is a fresh, saturated red. He would suggest that she bandage them, let her borrow their hydrogen peroxide, but then she’d know he was staring.

“Nancy lent me a stack of these a while ago. I think they’re pretty, but they get boring.”

He lets a smile spread across his face, warm from the humid air that surrounds them. “You know, you can always borrow something of mine to read. If you want. Or, we could go to the library.”

“The library?”

“Yeah. They have everything there.”

She pitches her head forward expectantly. “More magazines?"

“And books. It’s mostly books. Upstairs, they have a shelf with VHS tapes. It’s small. The movies are old. But it’s cool.”

“Cool. I'm kind of sick of Nancy's magazines.”

“So...you wanna go?”

She looks at him with a quizzical expression and sits up straight, the pale fabric of her top (she hasn’t been wearing the things Max bought for her at Starcourt) smoothing itself out against her torso. Maybe she doesn’t want to wear bright clothing because she doesn’t feel like being seen anymore. Because she doesn’t feel bright. “It’s close by?”

“We have bikes, right? You’ll just ride my old one. It’s not that small.”

“Oh. Okay. But we need to make sure we’re here at 12."

“Why?”

“Your mom. She left a note. She wants to talk to us when she comes home for lunch.”

He rises hesitantly, and she does the same. “Oh. Well, it’s probably about the funeral tomorrow.”

They begin to walk across the porch, and she bows her head. “I guess.”

“You know,” he says after a moment, “you don’t have to go. She won’t force you. If you think it’ll be too hard, just tell her, and you can stay home.”

“You don’t want me to go?”

“No, I didn’t mean—why would I not want—”

“Because I would like to go.”

“Okay,” he says. “So you’ll go.”

[serickswrites]

Gold IV

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: pet whump, branding, burns, scars, infection, collar, abandonment, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

It had been over a week since the Master had branded the Pet. Had left their mark on the Pet’s neck that the Pet belonged to them and them alone. It had been a full week and yet the Pet still hadn’t recovered. 

The first few days, the Master had allowed the Pet to just lay in their bed. Carried the Pet from room to room to keep an eye on them. But after the third day of this, the Master began to grow irritable. 

“Why are you still lazing around? You should be up, listening to what I say!” The Master said gruffly to the Pet, yanking on the leash. 

The Pet gasped weakly as they tried to lift themself up on shaky arms. They hadn’t seen the fresh brand, the burned flesh, but they knew it was horribly infected. Knew that it had oozed. Knew that they had a fever and couldn’t keep any food or water down. 

And yet the Master expected them to be up and about like this was nothing.

“M-M-Master,” the Pet whispered as they tried to lift themself once more, collapsing as the trembling became too strong. 

“You’re pathetic. A waste of my time. A waste of my space. And you were simply not worth your weight in gold.” The last was said with such venom that if the Pet had the energy, they would have been afraid. 

But they couldn’t be afraid. Couldn’t feel anything other than weakness. The world was a fuzzy haze around them. And they felt terrible. Nothing they could do but wait to either die or for the Master to punish them. 

The Pet didn’t know how long they lay there. They only knew that the brightness of the room had shifted by the time the Master returned, a stranger following closely behind them. “I should warn you, I already marked them. You could always cut the flesh away,” the Master said hurriedly. 

“It matters not to me,” the stranger said. 

“Then perhaps I’ll knock a couple hundred off the price. For selling as is?”

The stranger surveyed the Pet, their face impossibly blank. Fear began to grip the Pet’s heart once more, but they couldn’t do anything. 

“That would be fine. May I?” The stranger turned to the Master once more. The Pet couldn’t see their face, but saw the Master was pleased. 

“Please, get them out of here,” the Master said dismissively. “I should warn you, they were a waste of my investment. Perhaps they will be a better investment for you.”

The Master left and before the Pet could respond, the stranger was lifting them with gentle, delicate care. Something the Pet hadn’t experienced in a long time. “It’s ok,” the stranger murmured, “my name is Caretaker and I’m getting you help.”

“M-M-Mas--” the Pet began. They couldn’t believe. Surely this was some trick. 

“I’m not your master, I bought your freedom. But before any of that, let’s get you to a doctor, then we can talk about how you want to live the rest of your life.”

The Pet began to sob quietly. They had hoped for, had dreamed about freedom. But it had been an unobtainable illusion. To have this stranger, Caretaker, tell them they were free. That they were getting help. And to treat them with kindness. This was all too much. The Pet sobbed and clung to Caretaker as Caretaker carried them out of the Master’s house. 

“It’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” 

Tags: @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @madmadder @mefattortoise @nolahan @luvmikoo 

[felikatze]

andaron saga screaming

I KNEW BAUD WAS GONNA GET SIGURD'D I FUCKING KNEW IT

like "haha baud is so disorganized that's why jakka is the convoy character

i know what you're doing

i know

also if you dont take the dawncaller mortimer gives you a SILVER SWORD. HEY

also also like. as soon as aylanda says she's pregnant it's like. yeah baud is gonna die

i really didn't expect morty to be the one to do it

logical brain: yeah out of the steel brothers morty really is most suited to be king. he's the only one with any intelligence

emotional brain, sounding a lot like jakka: MORTIMER STEEL YOU ARE A DEAD SON OF A BITCH

it's so fucking funny how i. saw baud's corpse thru the cell. i checked his stats. all zero. "ah yeah cuz he's unconscious right. this is gonna be an escort mission" checks his con. "still 7? theodor can carry him easy then"

aylanda: "my husband is dead"

me: "ah"

and like. it feels SO logical that morty would be the one to betray him. at first i was ragging on samuel in the scene where baud and morty get "captured" cuz i thought it was just sam but

it's entirely logical that when sam came back to house rose to heal theo that morty would catch wind of baud and aylanda. and that morty could use a) baud hurting theo and b) sam's hatred of aylanda to turn ol' sam against baud

cuz it was morty needling baud into taking the throne when all he wanted was to elope. morty's arguments for killing baud makes sense. baud has the most legitimate claim to the throne of andaron since the rebellion. what really sealed his fate was having a kid, cuz it proved he and aylanda are for realsies. everyone fucking hates the lightbringers, everyone fucking hates house steel, but the worst thing about tradition is that it has weight

morty cant kill aylanda and the kid cuz of the whole "only a lightbringer can stop darkness" thing, which he WOULD know about bcuz he's the biggest momma's boy and lady maria was besties with the lightbringers. (didn't he also learn illusion magic from a lightbringer tome?)

on the other hand of course you're on jakka's side here. from the game you know that baud is just a good guy who dreams of a simple life with the people he loves. there's the whole backstory that he was a bit of a scoundrel, a gambler and a player - but falling for aylanda really changed him, made him want to shape up and do right by her. it's a shotgun marriage after 3 months yeah but that's also game limitation you cant build the relationship up for half the game since you gotta keep the plot moving.

so seeing how baud changed and that he was only convinced to take on randall with the argument it would keep his family safe and then he's killed by his brother. augrh.

and jakka's been his right hand through everything. jakka's a piece of shit in a lot of ways but he cares about his crew and he DOES soften up to jaheira and garram throughout the game. all it really took for him to start dismantling his prejudices was actually meeting the people he kept talking shit about and seeing them as. also just people. like he's not all there he still keeps calling jaheira a scalie but he respects her at the very least.

also the convo with ashley where she asks him if baudimon was really a brother to him and he gets so worked up about it. like i dont think he has a crush on baud NOW but he definetly did at some point. but also this convo questioning jakka's feelings right before he finds baud dead AURGH

and jakka's skill being loyalty. When within 2 spaces of Baudimon-

it's a skill that gives him bulk earlygame when jakka really needs it but now it's just. a dead skill slot. it's nothing. it's just gonna sit there. Loyalty. When within 2 spaces of Baudimon-

I had Baud and Jakka on B support and as for any dead character that's just gone now. AURGH.

rip to everyone who took the dawncaller and didnt get zakarias cuz i am THINKING abt his talk with jakka in 12x. how he said jakka's gonna come to a choice soon and jakka said he'd put baud's life over his own. and zakarias tells him it's always easy to choose in your own head but would jakka really? would he put baud over his family? over femke, a character we've never seen and only know through how much jakka loves his sister?

and i think that can still apply and i am betting RIGHT NOW that jakka will have to choose between his friends/family and his desire to avenge baud. it wont be baud's life he puts first, it will be his war brother's ghost. i am saying this now i am speaking it into existence.

Good game moment jakka vowing to kill mortimer really really hurts. morty i trusted you. i'm gonna kill you so fucking dead. if it plunges andaron into a civil war because the entire royal family is dead then so be it.

[fagraymond]

TITLE : In time, Sugar sweet (NSFW)

PLOT : He's known Penelope for years, and he had yearned for her touch, and her love, and her attention for equally as long.

WARNING(s) : a lot of emotions, if it isn't obvious, this has a load of sex things here and i dont know how but there's details about solo sessions here too because i got carried away

EXTRA : ran out of time so. there will be. edits even after i post this <3 but here you go babes, my somewhat lengthy garceid fic because i can't control my love for them, also self beta read because what can you expect from me, set in season 4 and up? after he turns 30 because that's how i calculated the times and everything would fall apart if i literally wrote him any younger than 30 ( oh and the AGES, the ages and the timeline in general drove me nuts, there's no time consistency with this show i swear, i just made garcia and reid have a three year age difference )

"Penelope please"  He all but begged.

desperately asking to be shown even just the smallest illusion of touch, allowing himself to go dumb for the possibility — like the millionth time that night.

arching his hips towards her, in the most vulnerable, least innocent sweetest way and Penelope did nothing but watch.

Watched as he ached for her so openly, it was almost hard to believe that this was the same man she had worked with for years.

Normally so in his head with his constant brainstorming, filled with patience and animated expressions that would never border on something so carefree like he was now, in front of her. And she was the cause of this, the professional facade is broken down to someone as drunk as she was for him.

He was the sweetest thing, but she wanted to see him become even sweeter. Just for her. "Relax for me, your wait will pay off I promise you my sweets" and those words made him burn. along with the words lingering in the air that he knows like a popular symphony.

Her promise; I'll give it to you, only if you were to be so kind as to lose yourself to me. and He was ready to do that, with no hesitancy. to give himself up for Penelope Garcia.

Dr. Spencer Reid has been associated with Special Agent Penelope Garcia for 8 years; 96 months, 417 weeks, 2,920 days, 70,128 hours, 4,207,680 minutes, and 252,460,800 seconds and never once has he been this close to her, physically.

There were a few close calls. fingertips touching, hips bumping, and shared hugs with the identical urge to never let each other go, but that was before there was a spark, a mutually reciprocated spark. Before long gone as the past, when the duo was still so stuck in their heads, thinking that the other side would never see a romantic opportunity ever develop between them, during their job, and at the eye of the storm, there laid an incredibly oblivious Derek Morgan.

And by proxy, the barrier. As he had so kindly named himself during his incredibly detailed shovel talk with the couple.

Which Spencer had thought, at the time, to be a little dramatic yet as he reflected beyond those silly little moments spent with banter, It was almost obvious— too obvious that Spencer's days were dulled down majorly because of the closeness they shared.

None to him, because of course, Never to him. Just famously, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, lovers made for one another; soulmates to an extent that came off to Reid as baffling. No matter how bad that sounded on paper.

He had even shared advice once, to the flirtatious pair. when he was a spectator given front row seats to the two during the age of 27, but he had not told Penelope yet, He was a coward to risk their friendship for something as taboo in the workplace as it was; the chance of being her partner for as long as she'll have him. 

5 years, 60 months, 1,826 days, 43,830 hours, 2,629,800 minutes, and 157,788,000 seconds with a portion of those wasted by him pondering when he should've seen it. 

Barely subtle hints with the words 'I love you too, Spencer Reid' were plastered on the walls wherever and whenever she was there with him. In neon pens, with stickers and glitters and a lot of lipstick surrounding them, and blinking hearts.

Another one of their many days shared, was spent in a mansion.

9 years; 108 months, 469 weeks, 3287 days, 78,894 hours, 4,733,640 minutes, and 284,018,400 seconds and never once has he been this close to her, emotionally.

another celebration with Italian food, smiles showing teeth, drunk stumbles and amused hello's from sober people towards their loved ones who couldn't recognize them through the haze that is Alcohol. Nothing surprising in the Rossi mansion, at least to the BAU, who were the stars of the night.

They always were, they knew their ins and outs, even when Hotch tried his best to deny that the porch wasn't the comfiest thing in the world to a sleep-drunk Prentiss and a William LaMontagne who had no idea what was going on but he was way too wasted to not join in on being screamed at by the unit chief.

All of it was viewable from their spot in the kitchen. Alone and not wanting to join in on the fun they had spectated through the glass doors that should've drowned all sounds out if the bunch weren't screaming. Much to Rossi's neighbor's relief, and theirs. wanting nothing but to confront something between them, in privacy. the topic that had left tear stains on so many zebra prints and dyed sweaters to be passed off as unfortunate spills, just from the thoughts of having it.

So they moved to a different room, to another floor from how ridiculously many there were, according to Reid. Few suggestive comments were left here and there as they wondered around the halls, only to settle on a guess bedroom, at least they hoped it was.

"Let's hope that there are extra sheets because after tonight? It'll be almost impossible to tell that they were sheets in the first place" Garcia had said, jokingly making cat claw motions with her hands at the Doctor as he locked the room's door.

They needed privacy, that was his excuse. And if she had seen the flush in his face when she was merciful enough to not mention it.

It had taken them a good few minutes to even start the conversation, trading awkward hi's and hello's over and over that Penelope had to hold back the floods of flirtatious comments to attempt to lighten up the situation, but she knew that Reid wouldn't appreciate that, obvious from his pacing and well-hidden jittering.

And something at the back of her mind burned because she dreaded the topic too. The topic of them, as something. Disconnected from Reid and Garcia but someone to each other as Spencer and Penelope. No professionality, in their most vulnerable states.

Not as if it was a bad thing, of course. It was everything they could ever want, something they could only dream of, no matter how dirty those dreams could get in some nights. Something that they would trade the world for, just to have a taste; of being each other's someone. they wouldn't care about the time they could spend as lovers, they wouldn't hesitate to take the titles up as boyfriend and girlfriend even if they knew they would have the same fate as Rossi and his wives had. No, they wouldn't hesitate.

But despite that, It had taken so much courage for Reid to lean against her, with as much passion as they did whenever they hugged except there was something else under those simple actions they've memorized. Words traded with heavy double meanings left behind floating in the room like ships with too many winds in their sails, they didn't wait long to finally join the BAU, in their endeavors.

And at that moment.

How Reid glowed under the fairy lights, how perfectly framed Penelope's face was beneath the flickering rainbow flurries that had begun to blur as they sunk into their little world. For as long as she had him, Spencer Reid swam and never sunk, kept afloat with her pressure against his comforting weight when they had begun to slow dance to heavy terrible club remixes that blasted in their ears.

The spark; the one Reid had for years, ignited at that moment. no matter how humorous the settings may have been. Interpreted as the time Penelope realized how much she finally loved the young genius back, except of course she was a young genius of her own, mind you, with her little dirty secrets of her own.

No, not the nights spent thinking of the man; bending him over, kissing him lavishly, spoiling him with arrays of hickeys on his untouched beautifully scarred skin. No, none of that. Her secret was that; she felt affection for him, before that situation.

As obvious as the signs were that she made herself, it wasn't when he was 27. Beyond that, as cliche as it sounded; the fire in her heart started sturring so sweetly, was when she was 26, 3 years older than the other.

The first meeting wasn't even formal, a simple hello and a little lift of his eyebrows only to move on to looking somewhere else shouldn't have made her heart beat in her ears that loud, but her heart did. And it scared her when she came home, when she came back to find that she had already started breaking an FBI insituated rule. On her first day.

Had the moment she saw him, sitting cross-legged and unashamed with his hair slicked back and still so young to be at the scene like her, behind a so-named Derek Morgan, equally unashamed. It ticked to her that maybe, just maybe by chance. 

The thrill of using her knowledge to create a better environment for both the new and old generations plus being removed from the FBI's watchlist for her supposed justified crimes wouldn't be the only fuelling thoughts that would keep her going to work every. single. day.

Only to put it out with overpreparing and thoughts overthought. to meet the man again, the following day, and the next and the next until she can see his face so vividly in her mind, that she can only hope that maybe some day she can work with him, engage in conversations, without feeling like an aray of fireworks, craving the attention of crowds. Specifically, the crowd that contained him.

Only for that day to never come.

She wished it was joke, but she thinks very frequently about the doctor. very frequently, that her tendency has bled into her dreams.

A man with knowledge decades beyond his person, the only one on par with her 16-bit rhythm game, how could he ever see her in the same light? it would take a lot of time, for that possibility to breach the surface of her fantasy world.

And only 8 years beyond, would her thoughts be ever so true, once again under the gaze of the night with their shoes; worn-in converse and her glass slippers on the greener grass, blonde and cherub curls blending as the night went on past them.

Sharing body heat as if they would forever be cold until they were in the same vicinity of each other. There but barely touching the way they wanted to, so close yet so far and It had been like that for what felt like centuries, convincing themselves that they can wait.

Allowing their world to remain untainted with lust, to allow the light of emotions and struggles to be swept away by shivering winds so all that is left is the air that comes out of Spencer's winded mouth, as he let Penelope do whatever she pleases with his body.

Emotions are shown through the cracks that he had so nicely allowed go unmaintained, so she can see who he is for her. Someone vulnerable, someone ashamed and scared. Like anybody else, his knowledge didn't make him inhuman, but people treated him like it did, and it made him ache. And he had let Garcia see that.

All from his honeydew eyes, and she swears it was the trick of the light but wants, wants that she had familiarized herself with by her discretion— sprouted like a beanstalk in his eyes, something she had so foolishly thought the doctor was incapable of. Had he been so innocent looking in her eyes; oblivious to the nights with his wandering hands imagined as hers, caressing himself in the most perfect of spots. Nights spent with his fingers stretching himself out, the angelically sinful scene blocked by green-colored blankets.

It had been a topic spent under dimming lights and smooth tired whispers in the late mornings, grumpy from being waken up so early. Craving something that they knew would regret; would they be foolish enough like they were and to let themselves indulge in their pleasures, to risk being only that replaying in their brains? the only thing their body craves and craves until their blackout weeks are spent with twitching muscles?

Yes, they were.

Shared kisses, promises that became true. The moonlights, the gifts on their 6th Christmas spent with joys and jollies all around it made their cheeks ache. I love you's, not-so-subtle hand-holding under the conference table, smiles sent their way from their friends.

All of those were great, but how would it feel like to go another year, 365 days, 52 weeks, 8,766 hours, 525,960 minutes, and 31,557,600 seconds, no different from the next but instead with a barrier broken between them that consisted of their sexual fantasies coming through? what new intimacies would sprout, how careless, shameless would they become for one another?

Which circles them back to where they were now:

He had thought about it too much, Spencer. 

from the early times of 7 o'clock until the shades of beautiful crimson faded in a mix of pinks and became replaced by black, with no stars lighting up the dimness in the city, nothing in the night sky, except for the moon; that knew. that it had decided to make him look so beautiful twisted in Garcia's bed, his hair falling in his face— hand trying to find a place to cling onto as surges of stimulation raked up his body.

The bed in New England, USA, the bed that Derek Morgan had told them to not have too much fun in. The same bed Derek Morgan had hand-picked for the couple because it was his home renovation project, and they were having sex in it. Betraying their promise to him, almost easily with no hesitation.

Moans and wants to fall unashamed, something he never would've dared do if only a few years ago. But all of that was forgotten in a snap, with only him and her in the world, refusing to believe anybody existed outside of them, and his voice started to drown out from even his ears except hers, her ears that were picking up every shift— every shuffle of the duvet whenever he arched, whenever he moaned, whenever he begged for her; for more.

The sight was ethereal.

It was everything she had ever wanted, presented to her on a silver platter, and she was eating it up, or in better words, eating him up.

Penelope murmured tenderly against Reid's stomach, trying to urge the shaking male to take a breather; tenseness does not make the sexy process smooth, according to her expertise and Reid would believe anything she would say in a heartbeat. 

Especially when she made him feel so good; under her, practically hovering over him with his legs draped over her shoulders, and he knew that the position they always manage to find themselves in, never failed to give her the greatest access to his sensitive areas.

All the blood rushing. "Just keep still, my little love bug" Because of her, and It made him shiver. As she pinched his sides, giving him the slightest leeway of clarity before fading again to the haze that is his arousal. Unashamedly, he was thinking with his dick.

Which she never even attempted to touch, to touch him there until the end of their sessions. Because it was the main attraction, and she promises it in soft drags with her nails that were painted glow in the dark; that she'll get on to it, and with her kisses that trailed from the inner of his thighs to his cheeks that it'll feel so good. 

But only if he was a good boy about it.

And rest assured, he was being such a good, brave boy about it.

[pareido1ias-7]

TW: mentions of SA and death

i dont think people understand how fucked up henry actually is. like i see SO many posts like "oh i can fix him" "he was just in a goofy mood" and yes i understand most are just joking and i might be a little too upset about this but when people try to twist the actual canon of the show to defend henry? like what the fuck. the amount of symbolism hinting at SA and real pervy shit is insane.

even in s1, henry targetting will and then stuffing a vine down his throat and impregnating him with a demodog? look me in the eye and tell me that isnt creepy as fuck.

him only targetting teens and pre-teens? like some of the max being vecna'd scenes were shot in a way that feels like its designed to make you uncomfortable. like him groaning and rolling his eyes back when he puts his hand over their face? the cheek stroking? he did that to el too (who was like nine at the time) he like stroked her cheek while she was crying and told her not to worry as they stood in a room filled with childrens dead bodies.

the will getting possessed scene? will said it himself: he felt it everywhere. i know there was one quote that really had alarm bells ringing in my mind and i dont remember it exactly but when will was possessed he said that henry (the mindflayer) was making him do it (aka making him do things he did not want to do)

its all creepy.

and even if we arent talking about that kind of thing, he is just a literal psychopath and you cant change that. he murdered a room full of children. he murdered his mom and sister. he murdered chrissy, fred, patrick, and max (although el started her heart back up, she still died)

he tricked el into thinking she had an ally and then traumatized her so much that she blocked it out of her brain and had to relive it to get the memories back. he gave her an entire speech about how life was pointless, cruel, and repetitive when she was nine.

to add to this, the stuff that happenedI when billy gets possessed. the visuals of him kidnapping hannah (im pretty sure it was hannah, please correct me if im wrong) were definitely NOT subtle. he tied her up, gagged her, laid her down on the ground, and knelt over her while whispering "be quiet, it will all be over soon" which is also said by henry when he targets his victims, usually right before he kills them. but yeah, the whole thing with billy wasnt subtle at all, and that wasnt actually billy, it was henry using billy's body.

i also wanted to talk about brenner, because thinking about all the el shit has me thinking about him too.

there is so much that creeps me out about brenner. like not just creepy things but like things we have seen him do to el on the show. like he tried to make her kill a cat and when she refused he locked her in a small, dark room while she screamed for him to let her out because she was terrified, and it scared her so much that when mike got her into the closet she had flashbacks. and then the scene after she kills the guards (which also severely traumatized her) brenner carried her away after saying "incredible."

like, he doesnt see her as human. at all. she is a lab experiment to him.

another thing that bothers me is the "papa" shit, for obvious reasons. i dont know if he is trying to get her to trust him more and see him as a father figure or if there is more to it, but it creeps me the fuck out. she was kidnapped as a newborn by this man who works at a lab, and he forces her to call him papa while he basically tells her that everything he is doing to her (abusing, experimenting, using her like a tool) is okay. he gives her the illusion that she can back out at any time ("is that okay with you, eleven?") but when she does back out she is punished severely and cruely. which is a very common tactic to make women feel like they are safe and they are okay while being raped or assaulted.

there is also the fact that one of the only women that isnt a number we see at the lab when el is with all of the other numbers (before henry kills them) is the nurse. and yes, women can be creepy too, but it gives me really bad vibes thinking about all of those children in the hands of men who didnt see them as human and didnt care about them at all, and the children thought that anything the men did to them was okay.

that is scary.

there are also a few shots that are just creepy, like a specific one i can think of is a shot in s1 ep8:

(sorry for the ass quality)

yeah. interesting shot. and its lingered on for a LONG time.

but yeah. brenner and henry give me terrible vibes, besides the whole psychopath thing. i just feel like not everyone is really thinking about how weird some of the situations these kids are being put in.