#why can't I finish rendering this man ever

[xenocorner]

My hand was forced (by myself)

[mrsniallhoran505]

Just a bad day on set.

A/N: This just came to me while I listened to Austin's audio book and was written in like 10 minutes so be kind. It's unedited.

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) oral (female receiving) creampie, teasing, edging. Dom/sub dynamics if you squint.

The door slammed making you jump. It could only be Austin, he was the only one with a key to your place, but just in case you approached slowly. 

Seeing your blond boyfriend hanging up his jacket roughly while kicking off his shoes made you frown. 

"Baby? Wha-" you didn't get to finish as he cut you off. 

"You. On the couch, now." He was stern as he pointed to you and then the couch. You wanted to ask why but the dark look in his eyes told you that was a bad idea. 

You walked over to the couch and sat in the middle, looking at Austin over your shoulder. He was putting his wallet, keys, and phone on the table near the door. When his pockets were empty he walked over to you. He cupped your chin to tilt your head up, leaning down to kiss you softly. 

"Lay back." He nudged you, giving you no choice but to comply. He got to his knees and ran his hands up from your ankles to your thighs. They disappeared under the hem of the large shirt you wore. Finding your cotton panties under. He hummed softly before pulling them down your legs, barely waiting for you to lift your hips to make it easier. 

He tucked the garment into his pocket before spreading your legs. He leaned in and put your legs over his shoulders. 

"How was your day off baby?" He asked before dragging his tongue over your slit. How he expected you to answer, you didn't know. 

"G-go-mmmpf." You moan reaching down to tug on his hair. 

"That's good baby…" another lick. "Did you catch up on that show you'd like been watching?" He used his fingers to spread you allowing his tongue to circle your clit. 

"Yes!" You cried out but you hadn't actually watched a single second of the show. You spent the day cleaning. 

"Mm, you'll have to tell me about it." He hummed before sucking on your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

"I-I w-will." You moaned and started to rock your hips. The hand in his hair moving to grip the couch cushion so you didn't hurt him. 

"You can catch me up at dinner." He replied before his tongue pushed into you, tasting you at the source. 

Dinner…? Dinner was currently sitting on the counter waiting to be cooked. When he came home you were getting the veggies ready for the stew you planned to make. Now it lay abandoned as your boyfriend had you for dinner instead. 

"We can order something if you didn't prepare anything." His words were slurred since his tongue was still dipping inside you over and over. His thumb was working your clit in slow circles.  

"Austin," you whined arching away from the couch. 

"Yes baby?" He cooed before switching to sucking your clit while he pushed a finger into you. "So wet for me baby, so sweet on my tongue." 

You clenched around his finger, feeling him curl it to brush that spongy spot inside you that made you see sound and hear colors. He worked it expertly. Keeping you on the edge without ever letting you tumble over before he wanted you to. Whatever you were gonna ask him, or beg him for, was erased from your mind. It was replaced with white noise and static as your body tensed. 

"Ah ah baby, not yet." He cooed and pulled his finger from you to rub your thighs in a soothing manner. "I'm not done with you." 

You whined, looking down to see him smirking. Lips red and glistening. You can't tell if it's from his own tongue swipping over them or your juices. Either way it made you groan. 

"Did you do your at home spa day?" He asked before dipping his head between your legs again, lapping at you like a starved man. This time two fingers pushed into you and begin pumping quickly. 

How could he possibly be trying to hold a conversation with you when he was doing everything in his power to render you incapable of responding? How were you supposed to respond when the only sounds you could make were moans and whimpers? It was insane but he continued like you'd answered. 

"Maybe we can do one together on our next shared day off… would you like that baby?" He looked up at you to see your head thrown back, lip caught between your teeth. A poor attempt to muffle your moans in his opinion. 

"Yes, yes, Austin, please." You begged, rocking your hips to get more than what he was giving you. 

He watched your body move, reaching down with his free hand to grip his hard cock. Nothing could compare to the way your body moved when he made you feel good. It was hypnotizing. Drawing him closer, begging him for release. 

"Please what angel?" He asked, slowing his hand down. "What do you need, hmm?" 

"You! Please Austin, I wanna cum!" You whine and squirm on the couch. Each time you've gotten close he's slowed down to keep you on edge. 

"You wanna cum or you need to cum." He loved to tease you, prolong what you needed. 

"Need! I need to cum! I wanna cum for you." You cried, clenching around his fingers as he pulled them free of your body. "Austin," you cried again, actual tears falling down your flushed cheeks. 

The empty feeling you had was quickly washed away as Austin pushed his cock into you. A loud, satisfied groan slipping past his plump lips. 

"Like a glove." He muttered before gripping your hips and starting to thrust. Pushing in fast and deep before pulling out slowly. Each time your hips met you choked on air. Your body jerked, you breasts bounced, you felt like a rag doll. Being used by the man above you, a toy for his pleasure. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 

"Fuck, baby please!" You reached down to grab his wrists, using his hold to pull yourself down against him. Meeting each rough thrust of his hips. 

He grunted in response, done teasing and edging. He wanted to cum and he needed you to cum first. Never has he ever cum before you. Today won't be the first. He pulled one hand free of your grip to move it between your legs. He pressed his palm against your lower abdomen and started rubbing your clit with his thumb. It was more than enough for you. 

"Austin!" You screamed as your vision blurred. You thighs shook, trying to close around his body. The building fire in your belly exploded, rushing through your body. It was a powerful orgasm. 

"That's it, cum for me baby." Austin grunted and sped up his hips. He was chasing his own orgasm, satisfied with the pleasure he brought you. It didn't take him long before he stiffened, pushing his cock as deep as he could without hurting you. Spilling his seed with a groan of your name and a bruising grip on your hips. 

When you could see and think clearly you looked at your boyfriend who was slowly pulling out of you. Watching as his seed followed suit and dripped to the couch. 

"Care to explain butler?" You asked with a smirk gesturing to your slack body. 

"Just a bad day on set baby." He leaned down to kiss you softly. "Take out?"

[hasu-ko]

belladonna of sadness

Content: hotch x reader, unrequited love, pure angst, like pure pure angst, no happy ending, rossi being the greatest father figure you ever had, 3k.

A/N: Bruh, I'm so into Hotch these days that I've decided to write a fic about him after being on hiatus for almost 3 years. I just had to get these feelings out of my system. You people don't understand the intensity of my feels rn. I considered ending it on a happier note but then I decided that the angst is just so much better. Yes, my mother Stevie Nicks just had to be in this one.

"I'm leaving BAU, Dave," you finally breathed out the words that had been gnawing at the smooth walls of your stomach for what felt like an eternity.

It was a windy Friday night, and everyone from the team had already left after a particularly tiring case. Their thoughts were heavy, and their bodies yearned for rest and relaxation. You, on the other hand, dreaded going home, knowing that nothing but a cold bed awaited you there. It was a feeling that had haunted you for the past few years.

So, you did what you do best and immersed yourself in your work, catching up with everyone's paperwork and going through potential case files. Rossi decided to help you despite your stern protests.

The older agent's head snapped in your direction, utter confusion written all over his face.

"Why?" was all that he could muster.

"They offered me a teaching position at Cambridge. Maybe you don't know this, but I've always wanted a career in academia," you tapped your pen against the case file spread out in front of you as a lie passed your lips ever so nonchalantly.

"Don't even bother with petty lies, kiddo. It's because of him, isn't it?" Rossi sighed and ran his fingers through his colored hair.

You bit your lip anxiously, finally dropping all of your defense mechanisms. Despair that had been lightly simmering within you started boiling, burning your insides in a way that you had almost grown accustomed to over the past few months.

You let out a choked "yes," and all of a sudden, violent shakes overtook your tired body. All of the emotions that had been bottled up for ten years spilled out and wrecked every fine fiber of your being. You didn't know why you chose to tell Rossi everything that night. Maybe because he was the closest thing you ever had to a father, or maybe because you secretly hoped that he would make everything all right, like he always did.

"I just can't stand seeing him so damn happy with her, Dave. I know how selfish that sounds, but I've been nothing but selfless all these years. I've been there for him when he lost Haley. I've done everything I could to help him heal from that tremendous wound, and yet he still chose Beth. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret anything, Dave, but I'm just tired. He chose that stranger over me," you broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably.

Rossi said nothing. For the first time in his life, he was rendered speechless. He knew you liked Hotch, but he never thought it was this deep and serious.

Now that the dam holding your emotions was shattered to dust particles, you continued.

"It hurts to be in the same room with him, David. It hurts so damn much. That man has brought so much pain and misery into my life, but I still love him as much as I did on the day that I first met him. It was easier when he was with Haley. I never had any hopes, but when she died, I thought..." you let out a bitter laugh, unable to finish that thought.

"You must think I'm an awful person."

Rossi just shook his head gently.

"Darling, you're just a human being."

"What is wrong with me, Dave? Why didn't he choose me?" you lifted your knees to your chest and buried your face in them.

Rossi stood up and wrapped his arms around your quivering form. You looked like a little child, so small and vulnerable. He wanted to scoop you up, kiss your forehead, and make things right, but he knew he couldn't. This was out of his control.

"Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart. He just can't control whom he falls in love with. These things happen. You could be the most beautiful, the most brilliant, the most wonderful person in the world, which you are, but even that is not enough when it comes to love," he whispered in your ear.

"You know, I always tell people my job is the reason why I never got married, but the truth is, I love Aaron too much. The thought of loving another man twisted my insides in a way that no case could ever. I was so hopelessly loyal to him all these years, Dave. I wasted my life dreaming that one day he would love me back," you hurried to spill those words from your mouth, scared that your vocal cords would betray you before you could confess your deepest secret to someone.

For some strange reason, you looked for pity that night. You were so miserable by that point, and you just wanted someone to acknowledge your misery. People always sought the validation of their pain. They wanted to make sure that their problems were real, that they were not overreacting or imagining things, thinking that compassion and pity would do them some good. They never did.

Rossi took your head in his hands and forced you to look at him.

"We love to be in control; we love to think that our actions will somehow affect the outcome of our lives, but oh, how wrong are we. Sure, you can control certain aspects of your life, such as your career or hobbies, or any other man-made field, but we are helpless when it comes to things that matter. Maybe that is why we value love and friendship so much; because we can't choose who we fall in love with or which people we meet. All of those things happen naturally; one day you just wake up and realize that you've become best friends with someone without being able to pinpoint the exact moment in which the strong bond was created. Perhaps there is someone somewhere on this planet who could understand you better and love you better, but you will never meet them because you were not destined to meet them. Your love for him matters. Don't think that it was all for nothing because you did help him. You helped him a lot," he spoke slowly.

"The pain is unbearable, Rossi," you muttered lowly, tears finally ceasing.

"Until one day it gets bearable, and then it gets lighter, and then it turns into a shadow, and one day you wake up and it doesn't hurt anymore. You need time to heal. You need to do everything you can to help that process, even if it means moving halfway across the world," he got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey, visibly shaken by your sudden confession.

"Thank you. I appreciate everything you did for me," you stood up, legs still shaking.

"You are welcome. I'm always here for you," he smiled a pained smile.

"Actually, I have a favor, or two to ask."

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't tell him or anyone else on the team what you heard tonight in this room. Ever," you stared at him firmly with your puffy eyes filled with pure determination.

"I promise," Rossi didn't hesitate for even a second.

"Also, can you please host one last party for me? I'm leaving on Monday. Everything has already been settled with the higher-ups, so Aaron won't bother with that. I just want to see you all for one last time," you genuinely smiled at him.

"I'll make sure to gather them all on Sunday evening."

"Thank you, Dave," you walked up to him and kissed his cheek.

Before he could reply, you were already at the door.

~

You watched the people you considered your family lounging carelessly in Rossi's living room from your spot on the kitchen counter and hummed lightly along the tune of "Summer Wine" that played softly in the background. The chain of anxiety and guilt that wrapped itself around your lungs constricted just a little bit tighter at the mere thought of the task ahead of you.

They all looked so happy, and that made you doubt your decision, but one look at the man responsible for your current state reminded you that you had to do it.

Garcia laughed at something Morgan said, and you couldn't fight back a smile of your own.

"Better sooner than later," you heard Dave's whisper as he closed the wine cabinet after finding what he was looking for.

"I'm not telling them, David. I don't have it in me to watch their hearts get broken," you sighed softly, tracing soft patterns on a cool glass filled with orange juice.

"I know it's not my decision to make, but" Rossi started, but you quickly interrupted him by pushing yourself off the counter and walking toward the grand piano next to a huge window.

You smiled fondly at all of the memories created in that very spot. Ever since Dave returned to the team, you had a habit of dining at his place at least once a month. That's how the team found out about your affinity toward music. Playing for them brought you joy you hadn't felt since you played at your mother's parties.

You ran a finger down the keys, and as if on cue, they all gathered around you. The ability to bring happiness into your team's difficult lives kept you going for years. Now, it just wasn't enough.

Morgan and Garcia sat on a small sofa close to the grand piano. Emily, JJ, and Reid leaned against the kitchen island with drinks in their hands. Rossi stood behind you with worry written all over his features. He didn't even hide it anymore. Hotch must have picked it up as he furrowed his eyebrows, watching both of you from his spot in the living room.

Sitting down with a heavy sigh, you spoke.

"You know, it occurred to me that I never played you guys my favorite song. I was saving it for a special occasion, but what the hell."

As soon as those words left your lips, an interlude for "Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You" started playing.

This song was a central piece of your most grandiose dream - marrying Hotch. You imagined playing it for the guests at your reception. As your fingers gracefully glided across the piano keys, the music filled the air with a sweet melody that resonated with the emotions of the day. Hotch's steps were gentle and deliberate as he approached you, a smile on his face, and love in his eyes. You, lost in the music and the joy of the occasion, were momentarily unaware of his presence. As he wrapped his arms around you, you felt his warmth and presence, and your heart skipped a beat. Your embrace was a symbol of your unity, your journey together, and the promise of a lifetime of happiness.

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears threatened to spill at any moment.

Has anyone ever written anything for you?

In all your darkest hours,

Have you ever heard me sing?

The pain in your chest multiplied by a thousand and stood as a stark reminder of the deep connection between mind and body. It was a physical manifestation of the emotional damage you had endured for too many years, a silent cry for help that demanded acknowledgment and healing. Your voice cracked. Ignoring it, you opened your eyes, which immediately found him, and carried on.

Listen to me now

You know I'd rather be alone

Than be without you

Don't you know?

No matter how painful his gaze filled with pity and fatherly compassion was, you didn't stop. Tears blurred your vision, but you knew you had to do it. This was the only way. The right way.

Has anyone ever given anything to you?

In your darkest hour

Did you ever give it back?

Well, I have

I have given that to you

If it's all I ever do

This is your song

A pair of hands wrapped around your shoulders in the gentlest of manners, and you felt Emily's ragged breath on top of your head. You leaned back against her warm and protective chest.

And the rain comes down

There's no pain and there's no doubt

It was easy to say, I believed in you every day

If not for me, then do it for the world

But there was pain, and it filled the whole house. It seized the hearts of your teammates as well. Garcia's loud sob managed to reach your ears even through the music. You didn't look at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't tear your eyes away from a single tear that traveled down Hotch's beautiful face.

You managed to rasp out the final words.

So if not for me, then do it for yourself

If not for me, then do it for the world

Suddenly, the air in the living room became incredibly heavy, suffocating you to the point where you thought your whole body would snap in two. Before anyone could react, you jumped out of Emily's arms and ran toward the door that led to the backyard.

Crisp October air filled your cramped lungs instantly, and you allowed yourself to breathe. Goosebumps formed under the long, flowy chiffon sleeves of your dress of choice for that night, and you couldn't tell if it was from the cold breeze or the whirlwind of emotions wreaking havoc inside of you. Your gaze climbed up and steadied itself on the full moon stuck to the heavens above. The moon had been your best friend for such a long time, and you pitied her for having to listen to your hushed secrets and anguished cries. The tears had dried along the way, and you looked at her with wide and watery eyes. You wanted nothing more than to climb up there, hide yourself in whatever hole she offered you, and wither away.

A presence next to you disturbed you from your train of thought, and soon after, Hotch's scent empowered every one of your senses.

"Beautiful. Isn't she?" you broke the silence, your tone of voice back to normal.

"Yes. I haven't looked up at the sky in such a long time," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You hummed mostly to yourself as you took another step toward the edge of Rossi's porch.

"How is Jack doing? With so much work at our hands, I haven't been able to visit him in what feels like months," you placed your elbows on the wooden fence in front, leaning at the same time in a desperate attempt to create more space between the two of you.

"Good. Great, actually. He's been asking about you, wondering why you don't stop at ours as much as you used to. I've been asking myself the same question for quite a while," he didn't miss a beat and mimicked your movements, letting his forearm brush against yours in the process.

In an instant, the ache soared in your chest again, and you let out a strangled breath.

"How is Beth doing? Jack seems to be in love with her as much as you are," choosing to ignore his remark, you shook an invisible knife penetrating your very soul, driven by a masochistic urge to wound it even deeper.

"I was planning on dropping by her place after the dinner. We haven't seen..." before he could finish, he was cut off by your shrill voice. You just couldn't take it.

"Stop it. I can't take it anymore, Hotch. I'll die if you finish that sentence," you haven't realized that teardrops started painting your face again.

"Darling, please. Don't do this," came in the form of a hoarse croak.

"No, Aaron, you broke my heart, you broke my entire life. You are the one who practically raised me long before Rossi came along. I built my life around you. Look at me, Aaron," you sobbed while turning to face him.

"I'm a pale shadow of a woman that I once was. Look at my face, look at these lines between my brows. Look at this hair falling out. Look how old my hands look, my skin almost see-through, frail."

He said nothing and just looked at you through his tears.

"You want to know the worst part of it all? You are so worth it, my love. You are so worth it. I would choose this life with you amongst all of the happier versions without you in it. I would go through all of this immeasurable pain over and over and over again just to see you smile that rare smile of yours that sends me into rapture. I would choose you even if you don't choose me. Always and for as long as I live," you poured your heart in front of him, watching him for what you knew would be the last time, trying to memorize every feature of his handsome face.

"I'm so sorry, I truly am," he finally wrapped his limp hands around your smaller form.

He couldn't help but notice how perfectly your body was snug against his, how warm you were, and how you smelled like oranges and vanilla.

"It is okay, baby. There is nothing to be sorry about; it's not your fault. You can't choose whom you fall in love with," you repeated Rossi's words in his white shirt, forever ruining it with whatever makeup was left on your face.

His grip around your shoulders tightened as if he was trying to push you into his ribcage in a desperate attempt to get even closer to you. Hotch's hot tears trickled down your neck and ended up being soaked into the fabric of your dress. You finally relaxed in his warm embrace, all of the intense feelings making you slump against him.

"I'm so sorry that I can't give you what you deserve," he whispered against your ear and proceeded to kiss your temple.

At that moment, something just snapped inside you, as if someone cut the electric wiring in the middle of a rave party. Darkness painted your insides and numbness finally settled in.

You pulled away from him and cupped his face in your small hands.

"Here's what we're gonna do, Hotch. You and I will wipe away these tears. Then we will go inside, and we will pretend that this never happened, just like you pretended that my feelings never existed for the past 10 years. We are going to play and sing and laugh with our friends. Then we will come into the office tomorrow, and JJ will brief us on our latest case, and life will go on," your voice was utterly devoid of any emotion as you lied to him in the most blatant and shameless way and wiped his face with the fabric of your sleeve.

The dullness of your eyes frightened Hotch more than anything he had ever seen in his life, but before he could respond, you started dragging him back inside with a fake smile plastered on your face.

"Let's go back inside, my love. Tomorrow is a new day."

[ddejavvu]

hi hello congrats on 3.6k!! you absolutely deserve it, i love seeing you grow so fast <3 hm how about molly’s pumpkin patch - secret relationship trope with spencer reid?

(also i noticed that we are mutuals so hey new moot! :))

come vacation on my island!

🎃 molly’s pumpkin patch - send me a trope and a character, and i’ll write about what it would be like! (ex. enemies to lovers with regulus black)

hihihi!! thank you so much, i'm happy you're here :) <3333

--

"Y/N, come on!" Emily leaned over you, glancing disdainfully at the paperwork spread out over your desk, "You can finish that on Monday."

"Or I could finish it now," You mused, smirking contentedly down at your work when you heard JJ scoff from across the room.

"One day you'll come with us for drinks," Penelope urged, squeezing your shoulder as she passed you on her way to the door, "And we're gonna get you so fucked up that you won't be able to walk."

"Can't wait," You grimaced, bidding lighthearted goodbyes to your team after everyone had stopped teasing you.

"You and Reid both," Derek shook his head, "Cut from the same stubborn little cloth."

"Have fun tonight," You didn't acknowledge his taunting, only leveling him with a knowing look, "But you'd better not have too much, because everyone heard you talking about how you ran out of condoms the last time, and you're not ready to be a father."

He groaned, an amused smile on his face when he finally left the room, everyone in tow behind him.

You weren't often able to render Derek speechless, so you prided yourself when it happened. You didn't always quip back at him when he teased you, so when you did, he had to take a moment to process.

It had never happened twice in one day though, like it did now. Because only five minutes later he'd come storming back in, eyes scanning the room for his jacket and instead landing on you perched on the edge of your desk, Spencer standing between your legs. You'd quickly broken apart the kiss you'd been sharing once you heard someone come in, but if the split second of make-out that Derek had caught wasn't enough to convince him that he was actually seeing what he was seeing, Spencer's flushed cheeks and your swollen lips were.

You weren't really able to turn your head, Spencer's hands still frozen on your cheeks. But you watched Derek out of the corner of your eye, stomach dropping as he turned on his heel and bolted back out of the room.

Spencer was the first to tear after him, and you followed quickly behind them. You weren't sure you'd ever seen your coworkers run that fast, even when they were chasing murderers.

It was evidently too late when you reached the parking lot, the rest of your team standing around and staring bewilderedly at Derek who stood there huffing.

"Guys," He started, gesturing wildly between you and Spencer, "They were-! On the desk!" Before he could finish his sentence, Spencer landed a light kick to the back of Derek's calf, cutting the man off and eliciting a hiss from him. You thought that as long as Derek was too pained to speak, you'd be fine, but everyone's eyes seemed to be scanning your slightly rumpled outfit, the way Spencer's tie had been loosened significantly, and the slight reddening patch of skin just under Spencer's jaw.

Penelope was, predictably, the first one to put it together. She had you wrapped in a hug faster than you could process, nearly knocking you off of your feet as she rambled about 'all the juicy details you have to spill!'.

You watched Hotch chuckle deeply, glancing once more at the tie you'd nearly ripped off of Spencer's neck, a genuine smile spreading over his cheeks, "Just don't mess up your paperwork, I'd have a hard time explaining why essential government files are wrinkled and torn."

[popquizhot-shot]

HI ECHO!!!

I’m in love with you so I’m sending in a request

Could be spicy could not be

Joel with a reader who loves using her camcorder, recording Joel making his guitars, building, christmases, parties, dinners, you name it, she loves capturing their moments together

They’re driving together in the country, on a run outside of Jackson, and she has her camera and he looks to her and just “you ever thought about using that for somethin’ a little more… intimate, peach?”

Smut. Smut in the backseat of his truck. He’s just recording how you take him, and it’s so intimate and sweet.

GOOBER HI&lt;33

so i actually don't write smut much so i decided to make this extra fluffy to compensate<33 i hope you like the ending :DD please tell me how you like it!

Three times Joel is in front of the camera and two times he's behind.

The first time he sees the camcorder recording him, he playfully shoves it out of his face and raises an exasperated eyebrow at his girl, who just smiles sweetly at him.

The second time, he finishing up with a guitar and he groans as he sees the blasted thing in his peripheral vision.

" Come on, Joel! Smile for me!" she says, laughing a little at his expression and much to his horror, he finds himself smiling widely at the camera before looking away. The sounds of delight that come from her make his lips twist again as he looks at her features that are bathed in golden sunlight.

"What?" she asks, the camera still in her hand.

He says nothing, only walks over and kisses her softly, rendering her speechless. He takes the opportunity and quickly snatched the camcorder and bolts out the door.

Later, they both laugh at the recording of his cheeky high pitched chuckle as her banshee screams echo in the background.

The third time, he's trying to make something for Ellie. And surprise, he's spectacularly failing at baking a cake.

---

His adorable huffs of annoyance make you giggle to yourself as you set the camcorder down on the counter, still recording, as you slowly approach him, caressing his shoulder first so you don't startle him, and hug him from behind as he whisks three eggs and adds them to the flour before anything else.

It's only when the camera starts beeping when she realizes she forgot is was there. By then, the two of them have made the cake and made out against the counter as well.

--

He's never been much of a dancer, before the outbreak, Tommy was the charmer, the one who loved taking girls dancing and bringing them back to his place.

Joel preferred watching. He'd always been the silent, observant older brother. Looking at every detail and aspect of everything around him. It was part of his job description as a construction worker.

That observant part of him slipped in as he shamlessly watched her dance with everyone during christmas celebrations. It's snowing, and cold, and he would be feeling miserable if it weren't for her. His darling, who found it fun to catch him off guard and record him, or who'd kiss him silly whenever she felt like it, his girl who was dancing with the girl who had become his daughter and lip syncing to whatever song was playing.

"I'm finally crazy" he thinks to himself as he goes inside the house and gets out the camcorder. But he can't help himself, he wants this moment to be preserved, so he can look at it again and remind himself why he bothered to go on.

He switches it on and begins to record.

---

This man has faced clickers, he's seen the worst humanity can offer. He's commited atrocious crimes and done much worse.

So he absolutely should not feel like getting out of the moving car and running back all the way to Jackson.

"Hon, you okay?" she asks him as he stops the vehicle near a field.

He only nods, kissing her forehead and breathing deeply as he fished into his bag to fish out her camcorder. When he finally find it, he switches it to records and sets it on the front panel so the both of them are in view.

"Joel?" she looks between him and the camera, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.

He breathes out.

"Baby-

"What, Joel?" she asks him again, holding his left hand.

"You know I love you right? I'v found you when I thought i might never find it again. Meeting you was how I met Ellie and now we're all a family. An unofficial family." he clears his throat, " I love you so much, darling. And I have to ask you-" he pulls someting out of his pocket. A velvet box.

"Baby, will you make our family official and marry me?"

The last thing the camcorder sees is the loud exclaim of "Yes!" and laughter before it is unceremoniously knocked from it's spot as she lunges for him and kisses him hard.

But it recorded all the sound as well. It's safe to say Ellie won't be getting that camcorder anytime soon.

[gomzdrawfr]

the agony of imperfections and lost

a prodigy once soared, melody adored with perfection now suffers with pieces and symphony left unfinished a silent pain with wrist betrayed each notes falter, with the end replaced by sniffles and pain

☾⋆⁺₊♫✩°｡

AU: pianist!Raven and piano technician!Price

between classes and lectures I've been doodling an AU for my cod oc Raven :] it's the first AU I've ever thought of for a very long time and I didn't start writing and drawing a few things until recently (my friends are huge enablers ah ha)

this AU is heavily inspired by the anime Your Lies in April so if this familiar that's why

Prodigy Raven who used to swoop every piano competition stopped participating one day due to various reasons.

She can no longer finish any pieces.

It starts off with pain, and then progresses into fits of spasms and shakes on her wrist.

That was however, not the main issue.

As she will herself to play more to overcome the issue, another problem raised where notes and tune muffles out as she approach the end of any song, rendering her unable to map out the tempo and the feel of the piece, which was the most crucial aspect in performance((and also hence why the art wrote "when will the sounds return"))

again and again, she attempted to play and only met with tears and pain at every end, and so she stopped playing.

It wasn't years later when her friend invited her to a concert hall that she would attempt playing again, and met a man with an unmistakable beard she thought she will never meet again.

here is a fic I wrote below, you can listen along with the spotify song linked below, and as always I hope you enjoy this lil blurb ⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝

tags: a lil angsty and mentioned of struggles with chronic pain

𓍢ִ໋. 𝄞 ✧˚ ༘ ♪ ⋆｡˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖♬ ♪₊ ⊹

Raven found herself at the concert hall, involuntarily dragged there by a close friend who was settling some business with the hall owner. Having no interest in the conversation, she idly wandered around.

Eventually her attention was drawn to the main hall, the area was dimly lit with only one light shining above a magnificent grand piano on the stage, when was the last time she had even seen a grand piano?

The golden words that etched on the front of the piano captivated her, "Steinway and Sons", and she ran her fingers delicately along its shiny polished surface, despite promising herself not to touch it.

how could she resist when such a beauty is in full display within her reach?

Perhaps there was a lingering wishful hope within her that pulls her through the haunting echoes of her past struggles.

Perhaps this time it would be different, after all, it's been so many years.

As she took a seat and opened the fallboard, she knew she had to play something.

Little did she know she was not alone in that hall.

John Price, a famous piano technician was scheduled to carry out his tuning services on the grand piano, has arrived earlier than the expected time in order to explore the place.

It gives opportunity for him to figure out the environment, and to assess the condition of the place.

To him, a piano was like the heart of the human body, requiring care and love with every factor taking into account, such as the air moisture content, exposure of sunlight, humidity, temperature...the list goes on.

As he walked onto the area from the backstage, he was surprised to see a figure seated at the piano. When he wanted to call out, the tune of a song stopped him.

A familiar melody, a classic.

He recognizes this song, however, with the way the sound and notes were played, it felt as if he was listening to it for the first time.

Liebesleid. Love's sorrow.

As he pause and listens, watching as the fingers of Raven danced around the black and white, he felt himself washed by the emotions of the piece.

remorse, pain, emptiness and cheery? was it hope? yet he can't help but felt bittersweet.

Each note was played with perfection, the pauses, the tempo and the timing were accurate, and with the sway of the pianist, he could feel the emotional depth infused into the piece.

And yet as the song approach the second half of the song, something in the air shifted.

The tempo increased, the intervals between notes were shorten, and slowly wrong notes emerging as well, with some keys played with more force and vigor.

Eventually the song stopped, and only the sound of stifled sniffles filled the air as the figure slouched forward.

((if you're curious and still listening along on spotify, the errors starts around 2:42 she stopped around 2:57))

"It happened again"

Raven thought as she struggled to control the shaking of her hands, and the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"it hurts....it hurts so...so much"

She lets out a shaky breath; it wasn't the pain of her wrist that was eating at her.

It was the act of not being able to complete a piece.

She pressed her palm up her eyes, a weak attempt to stop the shaking of her arms and the tears that kept flowing.

A hand on her shoulder was what brought her back to reality.

Startled, she looked up into a pair of blue eyes, with gentle gaze that melted away her panics.

"You alright, luv?"

The man asked, and Raven composed herself, wiping over her tears as she gave a weak nod.

She apologizes for the state she was in, gingerly stepping up from the bench, only to be met with a chuckle and another reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"It was beautiful"

He complimented, nodding his head towards the piano as Raven pauses.

"no, it's not", she thought internally, but just gave another thankful nod.

"thanks"

John raised a brow at that, taking note for her answer.

"something tells me you disagree, hm?"

She wonders for a good moment if she should speak her mind, and after deciding that the chances of meeting this man again is slim, she gave her comments.

"I didn't finished it"

She spoke, glancing back at the piano as her eyes soften as the echoes of her instructor came to mind.

"you're not worthy to even be in the same room as the piano if you can't finish the piece. It's not just about the techniques and music theory only, you need to focus on the flow and the dynamic of the piece, honor the composer, bring the composer's vision to life." "alright, play it again Raven, how bout putting your body into it this time huh? I've seen others played better than that" "you know you need to win, make me proud dearie"

"well, a song doesn’t need to be complete in order for it to be good"

His voice brought her back as she frowns slightly, the older male simply smiles as he goes on.

"what matters is how much you put your heart into it"

He takes a step forward to her.

"and you, certainly poured your soul into that song, hell, felt like I was listening to Fritz Kreisler himself, ha!"

She could only blink as she chuckles, a warm feeling embrace her heart as she hummed.

"you flatter me...uh-"

"John. John Price."

He extended his hand out as he smiles.

"Raven."

She smiled, shaky hands now no longer tremble as she gave the firm handshake. Something tells her that this will be the first of many more meetings.

[golden-rats]

There's a sting in the way you kiss me

Hah, guess who finally came around to finish this? And even still in time for whump month.

Words: 3k

Pair: SwissDew

Warning: Explicit, MDNI

Tags: Bloodplay, knifeplay, biting, bottom dew, top swiss, double handjob??

You can also read it on AO3 here

Swiss and Dewdrop were like water and oil. They didn’t quite fit together. Unless you knew how to make them mix. They did have similarities. They shared a lot more than either of them would be willing to admit. One could dare and say the ghouls could be gentle and loving to one another. When they were alone. When no one else looked. Hidden away from curious eyes. Safe in the comfortable solitude of their nests.

But not today, no. They were out for blood.

A stupid argument ignited a flame inside the fire ghoul. Spewing hateful comments. Sparks biting the air. Not a single thought spent on considering if any of his words hurt the man in front of him. Why would he? Swiss didn’t seem to hold back either. And before Dew even knew what was coming, he felt the cold metal edge of a blade right on the side of his throat. Making his movements come to an immediate stop. Preventing the knife from pressing into his skin any further. Managing to carefully swallow once before speaking through gritted teeth.

“What the fuck?” His eyes scanned the face of the ghoul who was so close by now. Having to look up a little, which annoyed him even more. Searching for any expression that would tell him what happened next. The multi ghoul could be near unpredictable.

“It seems like you forgot your place, little firecracker.” The words were sharp and clear. No room for doubt. He turned the blade ever so slightly, watching the shine trail along the blondes jaw. Careful not to puncture the skin just yet. His other hand came up to brush some of the long hair to the side, over his shoulder. Exposing more neck.

Dewdrop still clenched his jaw and fists. Ready to throw a punch whenever he got the next best chance. Tail whipping nervously, angry. He was almost vibrating, glowing with heat. All because that stupid Swiss turned him on with a gesture that was supposed to frighten and scare him.

“Care to remind me then, multi bitch?”

The cocky grin spreading on Dews lips was wiped away as quickly as it came. Feeling a hard tuck on his hair. Swiss burying one hand in it and dragging the lovely fire ghouls head back. The blade still delicately positioned at his throat. But now there was even more room. The taller ghoul leaned forward. Towering over him and bending down to his ear.

"I'll make sure you wish you'd never said those words, fire lily. Maybe you can wrap Aether and our gentle Rain around your fingers. But play a game with me and you will lose."

Hot breath ghosted over Dews ear. Sending a whisper of goosebumps spilling pleasantly down his spine. And at the next words, arousal struck his core.

"I will hurt you just to hear you screaming my name."

Teeth grazing his earlobe. The multi ghoul worked his way along the sharp jawline, down to his neck. Hunger painted over every inch of his face.

And Dewdrop? He was rendered defenseless. All the will to fight that was boiling inside him just moments before vanished. Almost melting into the touch. Cursing himself internally.

Swiss touched him with such arousal. Bleeding warmth into his skin. Causing shivers rolling over the fire ghouls body. Shaking breath and stuttering voice.

"F-Fuck you… You can't just-" A gasp echoing through the air as teeth sunk into burning skin. Pulling Dew closer to the multi ghoul. Warm blood flowing over the exposed shoulder. Pupils dilating as the heavy metallic scent filled their nostrils. Letting them spiral into a blood rush. Causing them to fully unglamor.

Growling and showing their protruding fangs at each other. Claws ripping at fabric. Papa wouldn't be too happy about having to get new stage clothes. They were in such a rush that neither of the ghouls had time to change into their own clothing or even get a breather at all. The argument started right at the end of their show, Dewdrop just couldn't let it slide. So he followed Swiss into his room back at the abbey. Which he only now realized what a mistake it was.

So here they stood. The fire ghoul bleeding from his shoulder, his shirt falling to the floor in pieces. And Swiss? He took a few steps back. Red liquid staining his lips. Eyes wide and completely fixed at his target. The arm that was holding the knife to Dews throat just seconds ago lowered. Giving the other an opportunity to breathe.

"Why don't you scream some more for me?" The knife was withdrawn from his throat, but before he could lose a word about it, Swiss already shoved him into the nest with a single forceful push. Dew merely winced. Feeling the adrenaline rush, touching the small wound near his shoulder. Licking his own blood off of his fingers. Gaze trailing over the ghoul in front of him. Watching as he crawled closer. The multi ghoul straddled him with both knees at either side of his legs. The knife pressed up against his throat again. Trailing down the surface of his chest, only the tip drawing fine red lines that vanished soon after. He wasn't out for pain yet.

Hissing, red sparking eyes frantically searched the others face for any clue on what he had planned next. Thin waves of smoke escaping Dewdrops nose and mouth. Tail flicking and wrapping around the fur which was laid out, covering the nest. It was the struggle between fear and arousal that he loved the most, those moments when the lines in between blurred, but never blurred enough to disappear.

That view satisfied Swiss greatly. Though he huffed through his smirk. "How am I supposed to be angry and feral at you when you look just so pretty like that?" It was clear he mocked Dew.

"Shut up asshole… Start dragging your knife down my chest. What do you have it for, huh? Give me little cuts every time I make a sound and let the blood drip everywhere so it smears all over while we finish." Bold. Without any fear left, the fire ghoul spit out his thoughts. The grin coming back onto his lovers lips, tugging at the corners.

The knife mapped across his skin almost carefully. Without drawing any blood, it danced along his chest. A sharp inhale from the one below. Anticipation. Swiss purred, teasing him. "Be careful what you wish for, my pretty fire lily…"

The first cut was made without much effort. A thin red line appearing on Dews pecs. A soft metallic scent filling the air almost immediately. The multi ghouls eyes widened with arousal. Nothing could stop himself from leaning down and licking over the bloody trail that made its way over to a hardened nipple. His swift, forked tongue flicking over the sensitive area. Feeling the cold material of a piercing ball mixing with the sweet red blood. A moan escaping both ghouls at the same time.

"F-Fuck…" Dewdrop threw his head back into the pillows and furs. His breath quickening as his heart rate picked up. The feelings he started to experience were more intense than he had anticipated.

"Mhm… Someone seems to enjoy himself." Swiss snickered. Letting a second cut follow on the other side. Leaving it to softly bleed. Watching the rich color against his skin. He felt the fire ghouls body react. Pressing hard against his pants, against Swiss' leg. Drawing another smirk on his lips. Rolling his hips to create some friction between the fabric of their clothes and their skin. Being pleased to hear a whimper Dewdrop desperately tried to hold back.

It was getting hot. His body temperature rising rapidly as he lost himself in pleasure. "Swiss… Please don't… don't make me beg." He turned his head to avert his gaze. Already being embarrassed to speak those words out loud. A shaking in his voice he'd rather overhear. But the other ghoul wouldn't have any of that. His free hand coming up towards Dews face. Grabbing his cheeks and forcing him to look at him. "What if I like to hear you beg…" Satisfaction was written in his grin. The thought of his fire ghoul being a flustered mess, begging for pain turned him on greatly. Causing him to tighten his grip around the knife.

Feeling the cold metal once more, Dew just had to press his body against it. It stung while simultaneously sending shivers all over his heated body. Adrenaline rushing through his veins. Setting off so many emotions that made him feel so alive. Right in this moment he couldn't feel any safer under Swiss mercy. As dangerous as this situation might be for others, as much he enjoyed it and trusted the multi ghoul completely. A sharp inhale. The tip of the knife broke his skin. The sensation making his dick twitch, already leaking. The ghoul on top of him smirking as he pressed his own groin against him. Drawing out a moan from both.

"We don't want your clothes to get stained, do we?" Swiss purred. He already ruined Dewdrops shirt before. So why stop now? Why bother with unbuttoning pants and stripping them off if one could just cut them? The outfit was ruined anyways, he'd deal with Copias complaints later. The blade trailed across Dews leg, with soft pressure up his thigh. The golden eyes of the multi ghoul wandered over the squirming body beneath him. Shortly resting on the flushed face. The darker red being a nice contrast to the amber colored skin. He was just so beautiful. And all his. For the moment at least. And he'd make it worth it. The knife ripped part of the seam right at the tight lap area, it was almost too easy. A swift movement and the fabric tore. For a brief moment he thought about just digging in with his claws and free his lover of the annoying barrier. But they were in no rush. The blade cut upwards, slowly. Revealing more and more skin as it went. A devious grin tugging at Swiss lips as he heard a soft yelp. The fire ghoul wore a tiny, black slip underneath. Barely covering what he had to offer.

"You're driving me crazy..." It came out as a breath. Dewdrop couldn't help but shudder once more. Feeling the lust in Swiss voice, thick with need. A hazy look in his eyes as he observed him. The sweet scent of blood still lingering in the air. Seeping out of him as his chest rose and fell quicker, heavier. His arousal grew painful. He wanted nothing more than Swiss to feast on him, hurt him. There was a time he would have been ashamed to admit this. Admit his rotten desires. "Show me how crazy..."

With this, the multi ghoul made a final move. Tossing the knife to the side as he leaned down. His forked tongue hungrily flicking over the reddened chest. Hands placed on Dews waist. Claws gripping him so tight, holding his hips so desperately. Digging into the skin until it felt warm at their tips. A whimper and grunt escaping the fire ghouls throat. It hurt. It made him so hard. Bloody claws massaging his flesh while a swift tongue licked as much blood off his torso as it smeared. Using his fangs to further mess him up. Biting and sucking with content growls. The bloodrush getting so much more intense the longer he went on. His own cock growing harder by the second.

Dewdrops hands came up and got buried in Swiss' hair. Tugging at it. Soft pinpricks of pain radiating from his scalp. Edging him on further. Blood was running over the smaller ghouls belly. Warm and wet. Dripping onto the fur beneath their bodies. His tail curled, breath hitching as his eyes closed. Squeezing shut with knitted brows. The pleasure was immeasurable. And they only just started. The stained hands wandered downwards. Finally ripping more of the already trashed pants in a desperate attempt to get them off. It got harder for the multi ghoul to contain himself. Growing feral. Exposing soft, fleshy thighs. Without missing a beat, his lips found themselves trailing towards them. Lifting Dews legs in the process, as he slotted himself between. Sinking into the nest. "So pretty..." His tongue left wet trails. His teeth red streaks. Kisses planted along the inside of his thighs. Small hickeys forming in an instant whenever more force was used. Dew was a panting mess at this point. His needy pleas filling the room. Spreading his legs so his multi ghoul could lay between them more comfortably. Trembling the closer he got to his core. Bitemarks paving the way. They felt hot, scorching his body. "Mn..." His dick reacting to every bit of attention, straining the tiny slip.

"You like that? Of course you do..." Swiss' breath ghosted over his skin. Tongue cleaning the latest mark before his body shifted. Supporting himself on his arms next to the small ghouls waist, bringing their faces near each other once more. His groin bucking forward, growling as he did so. Cutting off the blondes own sounds with a kiss. It wasn't gentle. Their lips crashed, a tongue immediately shoved into his mouth. Robbing the fire ghoul of any breath he had left. Dewdrops legs crossing around him. Resting on his lower back as he pulled him slightly closer with that. The multi ghoul couldn't form a single coherent thought anymore. It was pure instinct by now. Fueled further by the fact he carried some of the thick red liquid into their kiss. Filling both their mouths.

As to not drag it out even longer, losing patience himself, Swiss hastily opened the button and zipper of his pants. Shoving them down just enough to free his cock. He broke their kiss only to lick his palm, slicking it up before running a hand over his boner. Dew took a deep breath as soon as he got the chance to. Eager to continue right away, pulling the ghoul on top of him in again by his horns. Earning a guttural snarl. Horns were a sensitive part, especially for Swiss. So the fire ghoul ran a thumb over the smaller pair of horns. Breaking the others concentration. Taking advantage of this, Dewdrop bit into the thick lip devouring him. His claws moving from the smaller horn pair to the longer ones besides them. Rubbing the base where it connected to the skull.

The multi ghoul pushed the last bit of fabric to the side, freeing his lover so he could align them. Placing a hand around both their throbbing dicks. Pressing them together. Oh how good that felt. And his fire bug seemed to enjoy it as well. Judging by the high pitched whine. Dew held him in place by the horns, setting the pace of their kiss as if he had any control over it. And Swiss let him. He was busy himself, moving his hips. Purring low, a rumbling from his chest as not only his hand was still slick around them, he could also feel the heat radiating off of Dews cock. Making it so easy to lose himself in the sensation of skin grinding against skin.

The sounds they both made were honey sweet. Neither of them could get enough. Swiss' free hand found its way back to Dews hip. His thumb smearing some of the sticky blood. The slight sting made the fire ghoul involuntarily roll his hips. Sending a wave of pleasure through the others cock. "Oh fuck... Do that again baby..." The taller ghoul groaned between kisses. They both developed a rhythm after some thrusts. Grinding against each other as well as the pressing hand around them. Swiss moved his upper body so he could look at the treat below him. Wanting to look him in the eyes. See the flustered puddle he created. Huffing with every movement of his hips.

Dew let his hands fall from the other ghouls horns into the furs at his sides. Gripping them, needing something to hold on. Ever since they stopped kissing, his mouth hung open with pleased moans and little whimpers. Reaching to the side, Swiss got the knife once more. The fire ghouls eyes had a tinge of excitement in them. There was no time lost. The blade ran through wounds opened before, deepening them. Spreading smaller cuts over his abdomen, his chest, like he demanded from the start, with every new sound from his needy mouth. "S-Swiss... I can't-" It was clear by the tone in his faltering voice. He neared his limit. And so did the multi ghoul. "Let's do it together... Come with me." He didn't need much more than that. Allowing himself to fully give into the pleasure. The ecstasy that washed over him. Stars dancing behind his closed eyes, a shock spreading from his core throughout his whole body. An animalistic growl leaving Swiss throat. His claw squeezing around them one last time. A final thrust.

It was messy to say the least. Cum soon covering Dewdrops heaving chest, his stomach, flowing along his waist. The milky color stained pink as it met rich red blood. It was a beautiful sight. Brutal to most, perhaps. But not to Swiss. He saw his darling boy. Saw him so exhausted and in total bliss. Eyes rolling back as his orgasm shook his body. Fangs showing as he clenched his teeth. Nothing could compare to this.

"You alright fire lily?" The voice in Dews ear was gentle. Filling his head slowly. A nod was all he could manage right now. But that was enough to make the multi ghoul smile. One hand caressing his cheek. Smearing red onto it, into his hair. Chuckling he released their dicks. Taking another moment to collect his breath and compose himself. "You need a shower... And maybe some bandages." A soft kiss was placed on his forehead. The argument and aggression from earlier blown away. It happened, they both knew. At the end of the day, they still had each other. Embracing their company. As much as they couldn't be with each other, as much they couldn't be without.

[sneakydraws]

incredibly dumb question (and bit nsfw) pls feel free to ignore; I've just realised reading war and peace just fried my remaining brain cells: if topping anatole just made andrey worse, do you think ever bottoming would fix him or? I was thinking it'd make him even worse but idk one should never doubt the healing powers of a prostate orgasm ig

ANON YOU *LITERALLY* HAVE NO IDEA HOW CORRECT YOU ARE IN ASKING THAT QUESTION. JOURNEY WITH ME BELOW THE CUT TO HEAR MY EXTENSIVE THOUGHTS ABOUT ANDREI BOLKONSKYS SEX LIFE (spoilers i actually go more in depth about my interpretation of andreis psychological issues than ever but you have to get through the stupid sex stuff first. Sorry. Also I'm finishing writing this at the airport at seven am after not a lot of sleep so I take no responsibility for how coherent it may or may not be)

Ok I cannot emphasise enough that. Part of my initial take on Andrei (and a partial basis for my andretole au) was LITERALLY "guy who needs to get fucked but is too full of toxic masculinity to let anyone top him". Like, it's 1805 and everyone is obsessed with ancient Greece, they probably just started unpacking ancient Greek ideas about homosexuality, someone as proud, misogynistic and self-possessed as Andrei would absolutely see bottoming as some sort of shameful dishonour, if only subconsciously. (But like, if mercury was in Gatorade and the heavens collided and Pierre actually realised one day that Andrei has the hots for him and offered to top, Andrei would agree in a heartbeat because the thirst is even stronger than the internalised homophobia)

But silly sex headcanons aside I do think there's genuine psychology going on here so let me elaborate. I think Andrei is chronically incapable of being vulnerable with people. Even when making an effort to talk openly about his emotions (like in his first one on one with Pierre), he's very distanced from them, cold and disdainful. He talks about emotions but doesn't exhibit them. And if strong emotions of any kind threaten to get the better of him, he defaults to anger - see his anger at Lise in the same scene, his anger at Pierre after his refusal by Natasha and again before borodino - probably because anger feels easier and doesn't imply weakness like other emotions - sorrow, fear, regret - might. I mean in that scene after Natasha's refusal the narration openly states that Andrei hates being pitied... So like, if he can't bear to be vulnerable with others in life, how could he possibly do so in bed, right?

(Though I suppose it's not as clear cut as that because hatefucking Anatole IS a sign of weakness and feeling ashamed of it is also a sign of weakness and anatole's refusal to be bothered by it reminds Andrei of that fact every single day. He just can't win! Can't have shit in 1805 Russia!!)

All this being said, it's equally as important to my understanding of Andrei that he does WANT and even NEED to be vulnerable with someone. He wants to be able to trust and respect someone enough to lean on them and rely on them for comfort. I think that his extreme self-reliance and internal strength belie a deep-seated desire to have someone in his life who will render those traits unnecessary. Hold on I just realised Andrei has mommy issues uhh

In all seriousness tho. This is why those relationships Andrei tries to build fail, isn't it? He doesn't approach those people as equals, he wants them to be his superiors. Natasha can't just be a girl whose company he enjoys, she has to be his angel of rejuvenation and moral redemption. Speransky can't just be a man whom he respects, he has to be this flawlessly committed and morally upstanding reformer. And when he dares act like an imperfect human being, Andrei is totally turned off. His relationship with Pierre is actually probably the healthiest precisely because of its internal contradictions - he cherishes Pierre's earnestness and artlessness, but sees his naiveté and weak will, and therefore doesn't build him up to such an impossible standard of perfection as others.

(This actually contrasts in an interesting way with Pierre's (imo) final and most important transformation - that into someone who can acknowledge people's flaws and love them, without judgement or delusion. Very Christlike of him)

So um tldr. Yes Andrei SHOULD bottom (slash not be such a dom slash be vulnerable with anyone) and it WOULD fix him but also he'd need to already BE fixed for it to ever be on the table so like. F. He'll have to make do with blowing anatole's back out and hating himself for it, and count himself lucky that my stupid au gives him that much

[storkmuffin]

Finished Ink Blood Sister Scribe and had what might be my first experience that's analogous to aroace people feeling repulsed by the thought of romance and sexuality. Because it happens in this book! But more on that later.

I've already said that I like the genderflips that the author has decided to make. It's a boy with magic blood being exploited and trapped inside a gothic mansion as an adventurous girl who can't stay anywhere more than 364 days or be truly intimate with anyone travels the world, having scary adventures, all the way to antarctica. He's very fussy about shoes and cashmeres and cologne and is very sheltered. She's an electrician who can get a job at a base in Antartica. And so on.

This fantasy novel is a cobbling together of all the stuff that's been in this author's childhood popular culture, given her birth year (1987). -

There are two sisters of differing magical / powers who are separated by lies told to protect them by their parents and long for each other (Do you want to build a snow man?)

There's an evil type of book that drains people of blood (HP's Monster Book of Monsters with the PG 13 rating taken off).

There's the one legal instrument firmly embedded in the long term memories of all daughters of E.L.James (It's a silencing spell, that's all it is, but everyone calls it an N.D.A).

There's mirror portals (Alice in Wonderland, The Matrix, Dr. Norris and Mr Strange).

Both the male and female protagonists are bisexual (Ao3).

The boy keeps fainting (hot frail boys are hot) while the girl knows a bunch of martial arts (girlboss etc).

One of the most powerful ways of being magical is to be completely immune to magic (Hi Bella Swan, is that you?).

There are name drops of random singers that signify what kind of cool girl this author is - Kurt Cobain and Fiona Apple. Oh, and Smells like Teen Spirit is actually sung acapella in an attempt to create a magical connection (it doesn't work lol).

The fancy english laird doesn't want to return the priceless artifacts bought and stolen from all over the world to their country of origin because he can take care of it better. (Very topical).

The mommy who gives birth to you is not as much as the mommy who adopted you and raised you. (Very modern, very Angelina Jolie).

There are lovingly rendered details of hand crafts like ink-making and bookbinding (very cottage core), as well as an adoration of huge libraries inside big English estate houses (Harry Potter, again, and also Mortal Istruments, which is Harrry Potter).

I liked this very much, by the way. The fact that all these ideas are not in any way original and simply competently assembled did not at all diminish my enjoyment of the story being told. The thrilling, scary bits were thrilling and scary. The magical bits did invoke a sense of wonder or at minimum, curiosity.

THE PROBLEM THOUGH WAS THE STRAIGHT PART OF THE STORY. There's the sister who travels and the sister who stays in the homestead, guarding her dad's library of magical books. The bodyguard of the fussy Englishman, Colin, who is from Boston, is the first man that the librarian sister allows into her home. They ...immediately.... have the true love true blue heterosexual attraction to each other. And they have terrible horrible flirty talk and they kiss and it's like, Wait, What?

Joanna wasn't aroace and somehow didn't go insane living isolated in her house for ten years with just her dad??? She fell hard for the first man not related to her by blood that was ever invited to her house? Plus why the fuck did the author set up all this chemistry beteween Colin and his fancy English charge, the fainting magic blood having boy, who is canon bi???

The no homo of it was so, so awkward and weird. Joanna even asks Colins if he and Nicholas, his charge, aren't a thing and Colins says no, because he likes long hair. He doesn't say he's straight, or that he prefers women, which makes me think the author didn't want to say those things, because it's not true. GIVE ME GAY COLINS. GIVE ME COLINS AND NICHOLAS EXPLORING THEIR BODIES IN THE LIBRARY OF MAGIC BLOOD BOOKS. The quality of the writing for the very gross Joanna and Colin courtship had me writhing with secondhand embarassment as well as disappointment, whereas the rest of the book is snappy and polished.

That tacked on hetero romance, that happens for no reason, kind of ruined the book for me, sad to say. I was so repelled.

[shynetyme06]

1 - 23 :3

cracks knuckles okay

1. how would you describe your art style? uhhhhhhhh, maybe "safe" is the word rn. whenever I think of my art style, what comes to mind is just how little I've been pushing things with it. I wanna change that ;D

2. what's your favorite thing about your style? I realize I like to use semi-realistic proportions, its cool how comfortable I've gotten with drawing faces and bodies

3. what's your least favorite thing about your style? It's so static man. same thing I said for the first question, I don't think anything really looks bad, but it just is lacking in creativity in comparison to the older art that should be looking worse than what I do now. I prefer my older stuff ;D (looking at you inktobertale2021.. where did it all go wrong)

4. favorite thing to draw? regular ol people. human characters are def more in my comfort zone, which explains why I keep hitting skeletons with the humanization ray (also I prefer to draw feminine characters)

5. least favorite thing to draw? I can't even say I rlly dislike it cuz of how rarely I even do it, but I am procrastinating so hard on learning backgrounds..

6. warm colors or cool colors? cool colors are my fav, but i find it easier to work with warm ones (I used to put a cool overlay over all my warm toned drawings hgdhfg)

7. show us a WIP behold, the wip ever. this drawing... was supposed to be posted on august 2022. and then, it was supposed to be posted on dec 21st, dream and nightmares birthday. (atp if I do end up wanting to finish this idea again, I'll probably just scrap it and start over)

8. what's the most fun and least fun parts about your process? most fun is flat color and rendering. (though I rarely do the latter anymore) and for least fun, tbh a lot of the sketching part tends to be difficult for me, sometimes its cool tho

9. show us a finished piece alongside the original sketch example from when sketching was fun

10. how many different sketches do you usually have until your piece is finished? I think I do need to make more of at least thumbnail sketches tbh.. I usually just make one and keep editing it, trusting the process. (and that fails like 70% of the time. woww wonder why sketching isnt fun for me-) 11. show us the last thing you drew, be it a finished piece or a small doodle can this count,,

12. show us an old drawing first deltarune drawing. here's the redraw I later made of this :3 (also old hsgdhgf)

13. how long do you usually take one a piece? depends. I'll have like 276478923 wips started, and then I get a random idea that I just have to do right at that moment, and I'll get it done in like 1-4 hours. meanwhile old sketches start to rot and maybe if its lucky I'll revisit it before my motivation dies and my style is too different to wanna continue from where I left off 14. digital or traditional? digital all the way, i've gotten too dependent on the transform tool + liquefy ;D (and many other things tbh but I'd be here all day if I tried comparing them more jhdjdf)

15. if digital, what program do you use? procreate, the layouts on other drawing programs scare me

16. favorite media to work with when drawing traditionally pen on paper (am I understanding this right wdym media-)

17. what do you love getting compliments about? I like when people enjoy the humanizations I come up with, and also original designs in general 18. are you satisfied with the attention your art usually gets? hmmm yeah

19. how often do you draw? very often, I just don't have finished things to share most days

20. a piece from this year that you're really proud of :3

21. something you would like to improve on the dynamicness (well, the lack of it) of everything, as said before

22. what inspires you? Ink sans and a ton of creators in this fandom (also animated shows and movies, I love animation)

23. what's something you hope people notice when looking at your art? idk tbh, just notice it at all and I'm happy :>

[somekindofpoet]

have you ever heard of Ulysses, my dear?

A man who desired the Sirens' song - even if hearing it would render him incapable of relational thought.

right now I can tell you: I do understand this man; for I am Ulysses and you are my Siren. I would come back, be it for the pleasure of having your presence or the pain of craving for you.

I apologize for staying away for such a long time, my muse. Unfortunately, college has been keeping me grounded - but you called, so here I am, ready to appreciate your work the way I should.

I missed you! truly. deeply.

shall we talk about everything you have gifted us with?

Kissing Lessons. it made me fall in love with Vada like it was my first time seeing her.

it's just so...natural. the characterization, the scenarios, everything. I have just read it for the second time and, oh dear, each and every paragraph made me want to watch The Fallout all over again. I don't usually pick this word to describe smut, but, yeah, it was adorable.

I am a little tired right now, so finishing that one draft I have left for that little ball of sunshine wasn't exactly the plan...but, oh, you make me want to write like a mad man.

Is it a risk to say I am obsessed?

Nevermore Ground. it dug a hole in my heart twice as wide as I could imagine and now it lives there.

it will always live there.

as hard as it is to believe - I write mostly naughty things... - fluff is my favorite thing to read. and your fluff? it goes to another level. NG is everything that I needed to heal my mind, from the cozy atmosphere to the funny characters.

(Raven, Phill, Billy...I am talking about all of you.

and you, my dear writer? you do know how to woo a lady. I find myself falling deeper and deeper.

just like Alice, remember?)

let me tell you: you surprise me every time with how fluid your writing style is. there are little changes depending on the genre you write and it fascinates me. it's not the language nor the word...I have no idea; it's just so different?

tasty. addicting even.

keep up with the great work!

FilthX. I love it when people toy with the title. cannot say if it was your true intention, but I will believe so.

this one kept me in a chokehold. we have not only one, but two spicy scenes? oh, gods. I might faint if you do so another time without the previous warning.

(it's Bobby-Lynne, alright? the woman is just divine.

it stands next to the ice cream scene for me.

yet another must that you provided me with.)

oh, Lorraine. the church mouse does know what she wants - and she is going to take it for sure.

I can't wait to see what things come next.

How To: Be The Perfect Partner - A Lecture. the request was written right after the end of the movie; it's a little rough, changed many times to fit the general idea of what I pictured it to be.

and yet, you handled everything perfectly.

Phoebe's personality is palpable, just like her sarcastic comments are. you filled up all the gaps, made it your own story and brought up the funny, dangerous and hot aspects all at once. reading it was a pleasure, just like reading everything else was.

my favorite part? the heart shaped glasses. I first intended to mention throughout the request, but couldn't find a way to do so.

it's like you've read my mind, friend.

oh, no. I did it again.

another long comment came in your way.

I cannot promise to make them shorter though. in Greece we appreciate showing as much love for the artists as possible, so you could say it's a bad habit I was born with.

we breath good stories and desire to talk about them all the time.

who am I to go against my nature?

alright, I am letting you rest now.

allow me to tell you one last time how ardently incredible you truly are. you always shine bright, my beautiful star, and that's why I will always find my way back to you.

thank you very much for having me.

eternally yours,

Horny Angel Anon.

I….am at a loss for words? Which never happens. I’m a writer and a smart ass I have words for everything. Am I being wooed? What is happening right now? 😍 the flattery

Also YES thank you bby FilthX is a play on Filthy and should be pronounced that way I’m so glad you understood this!

I’ll be anxiously awaiting that Vada prompt, but take your time! No rush! Until next time bb 🖤🖤

[danceswithdarkspawn]

Remove the Mask sounds interesting: 2, 16, 20, 21

(For the Unwritten/Unpublished fics asks!)

Hi, and thanks for the ask!

2. How did you get the idea to write this?

Unhinged infodump incoming. The TL;DR of this is: what if your player character killed Leliana, found out she was alive, and tracks her down in an attempt to finish the job?

This fic came about from a "what if" thought that I had, as most of my fics do. Anyway, the main character of this story, Leliana, has some...interesting retcons throughout the series. Namely, she can be killed in the first game if you make a certain decision. Despite this, she returns for the other two games.

Her killer, your player character, then goes on to save the world and be named a hero. In this case, my player character (we'll call him Cousland) was an absolutely vile man, though few people know this. He saves the world, marries Ferelden's widowed queen for political gain, and prepares to rest on his laurels for the remainder of his days. And then he finds out Leliana's alive. Then he finds out she's working for the head of the Chantry, effectively rendering her untouchable. But no big deal, she can't touch him either. This begins a creeping paranoia.

The setting for their confrontation takes place 11 years later during a canon event in the third game; a masquerade ball held by the Empress of Orlais. Leliana, now working for the Inquisition, a paramilitary organization, attends this ball after hearing of an assassination plot. Cousland learns of this ball and the Inquisition's attendance, and decides this might be the last opportunity he'll get to finish her off. After some back and forth, she recognizes him and shenanigans ensue.

16. Is there any written scene that you think about a lot?

Hooo, oh boy, yes. There is a scene in which Leliana and Cousland are dancing in the ballroom. She's just figured out who he is, and they're going back and forth taunting each other with the dirt they have on each other. ("I heard you went on a bender and whored yourself out when you returned to Orlais." / "You're only a Prince-Consort; why haven't you been elevated to King?") Eventually, Cousland says that he knows Leliana is carrying on a relationship with the Inquisitor (which is true, but has been kept very secret up to this point, because this is a liability and overall a bad look), implying that he's been closer to her than she's realized for some time. He then taunts her by saying, "That is dangerous, don't you think? I wonder, did she seduce you with pretty words, or have you hopelessly fallen for the hero again?"

20. Give a vague description of something that will happen without revealing too much

An Orlesian ball isn't complete until someone's been a victim of the Grand Game.

21. Is there any unwritten fic that you don't know if you ever will write?

Oh lord, maybe? I'd love to get around to all of my ideas eventually. I did have an idea that was an unhappy ending version to one of my series. I might eventually write it, but I may never publish it, as it is...fairly dark in concept.

[experiment14-12]

Ori: Syklos, the soup is flaccid!

Syklos: LITERALLY, WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MEAN???

✨Random Quotes from the Crew!✨

(The characters used are from @sanalune-forest and @the-machines.)

Morgan: Wanna help me commit arson?

Vera: What the hell?

Morgan: Oh, sorry, my bad.

*whispering* Wanna help me commit arson?

Vera, also whispering: Of course. What do you need?

----------

Sean: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.

Lucas: Thank you for your sacrifice, Kran.

Kran: First of all, fuck you. Secondly, I will tear your limbs off your body and force feed them to you if you make any sort of remark like that again.

----------

Vera: ...My man Ethan just killed a goldfish.

Ethan, licking his lips: Yup. Delicious.

----------

Flo: If I die, you can have what little I own.

Mikaela: Wait. What do you mean, "if" you die?

Flo: My unending existence is fueled by pure spite, that of which the painful experience of life have rendered me full.

Mikaela: ...*sigh* Let me call your therapist again.

----------

Syklos: Sleep is the body's best safety mechanism.

Arco: How so?

Syklos: It keeps you from fucking up for 8 hours.

Arco: ...Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?

----------

*After the chase in the woods...*

(Look in @sanalune-forest for context!)

*Both Flo and Sean are about to faint.*

Sean: This can't get any worse... Can it?

Flo: Sure it can. Just give me a minute.

----------

Vera: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

Morgan: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Arco: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Syklos: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Mikaela: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Flo: Mental stability, my old friend!

Vera: Jesus fuck, could you guys lighten up a little???

Flo: Not when you almost died by a Faunus demon.

Vera: ...fair point.

----------

Kran: What are your adjectives?

Anya: ...You mean, my pronouns?

Kran: No. I already know what your pronouns are. What are your adjectives?

Anya: ...I dunno. What are yours?

Kran: Edgy and chaotic!

Anya: I've never had something go from making no sense to making complete sense so quickly.

----------

Kran: Can we go to a haunted house?

Flo: What's wrong with the one we live in?

Kran: Wh-what???

Flo: Goodnight, Kran.

----------

Lucas: Your smile looks forced.

Kran: That's because it is.

----------

Vera: Finish the sentence: Wake me up...

Morgan: Before you go go.

Lucas: When September ends.

Kran, at the top of his lungs: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

----------

Anya, looking through her dresser: Has anyone seen my top?

Sean: Ori's in the kitchen.

Anya: ...

----------

Morgan: So, how's the food Mikaela made?

Ethan: It's great! Compliments to her.

Morgan: *walks in the kitchen* You're adorable.

Mikaela: *blushing*

----------

Ori: Sean, you've tried this level in Melatonin 37 times, and you failed every time. Give it a break.

Sean: DO I HEAR "FIRST TRY PART 38???"

----------

Anya: Advil me up, daddy.

Ethan: I will short out the the language center of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

[yourmidnightlover]

rock

Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.

TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol

WC - 4,283

!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!

i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.

----------------------------------

you had always been the rock in spencer's life.

mentally, at least.

when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.

you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.

you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.

*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.

*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.

*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.

*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.

*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.

*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.

*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.

*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.

*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*

you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.

but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.

the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.

when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.

you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.

victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.

the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.

the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.

and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.

you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.

the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.

spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.

at least they had a time frame.

later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.

she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.

while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.

"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.

you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.

"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.

spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.

officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.

so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.

they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.

you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.

you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.

hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.

and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.

spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.

you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.

"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.

that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.

spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.

spencer vowed he would get them back.

as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.

but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.

"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.

"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.

he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.

you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.

when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.

as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.

ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.

they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.

the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.

when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.

over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.

so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.

you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.

spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.

once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.

you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.

spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.

but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.

you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.

so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.

he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.

finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.

"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.

"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.

you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.

you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.

you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.

you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.

nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.

but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.

but the person who is your life didn't even care.

spencer didn't care.

and that's why you truly lost it.

he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.

if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.

spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.

but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.

he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.

when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.

he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.

"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.

"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.

"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.

"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.

you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.

"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.

"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."

it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.

"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.

"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.

"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.

"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.

you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.

"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.

"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.

"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.

"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.

"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.

"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.

"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."

"i'll always be your rock, y/n."

@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup

[coffee-bat]

sure i do! (posting screenshot of ask for easier formatting)

(also, i have a whump headcannons ask that i've been compiling the response to for the past weeks (anon who asked, i'm so sorry it's taking so long, i'm not ignoring your ask), so this one will focus strictly on everything OTHER than whump.)

- he often bites his nails when stressed, or even just bored (or when he has no cigar on hand. he has a thing for chewing/nibbling on things). stopping himself from doing it is one of the reasons he wears gloves (other than for warmth and to shield his hands from damage), as having his nails bit too short is painful and can make his work almost impossible. (saying this as a nail biter. you literally CANNOT use a finger that you bit the nail of too short)

- speaking of stimming, aside from biting things, he uses the compass around his neck as a stim toy. it's useless around him, as his own magnetic field renders it impossible to point north as it should, but he'll often play with it by making it spin through altering his field. it requires both focus and a small bit of physical effort, effectively taking his mind off whatever's stressing him, at least for a short bit until he gets bored.

- he thinks he can cook, but anyone who's ever tried his cooking strongly disagrees. while his techniques are okay, like he doesn't burn or undercook stuff, the things he makes are borderline inedible. (he once made a party cheese salad for a family meeting and lowkey bonded with moreau over him being the only one to like the atrocity)

- he's the youngest of the lords (with the age order being alcina>moreau>donna>karl). donna looks younger than him, however it's mostly because of his healing factor being worse than the others', making him actually age (even if very slow) instead of being stuck in time.

- he DESPISES family meetings, along with the family dinners miranda keeps insisting on (which take place either at the castle or at donna's place, as moreau's reservoir and the factory are unsuited for that to say the least), but the latter's redeeming factor is that, if he's lucky, he gets a unique opportunity to fuck with alcina. which usually means eating her out of house and home (using the fact that she's too proud of her good manners to refuse a guest), getting drunk, wrecking her house (muddy boots who?) and then passing out somewhere. it gives him the opportunity to make himself her problem and he loves that. (i've actually started work on a comic a few weeks ago where alcina kicks karl off a random couch she finds him on (in a food coma), a shitposty thing with a SLIGHTLY wholesome-ish ending (as wholesome as alcina gets), but it was taking so long that i just gave up at some point. though, if any of y'all would like to see it finished, let me know, it'd be easier to motivate myself to do it if i knew anyone actually wanted me to lol)

- he holds animals close to his heart but would hate to admit it, in fear of appearing weak or soft. claims that he lets the one (1) cat stay in his factory ONLY because it helps with rats, totally not for company because he's a sad lonely man, what are you talking about.

-he's neither a cat or dog person, he likes both equally, but it'd be far harder to keep a dog in his quarters, seeing as it would require both more space and regular walks + playtime, while a cat is perfectly happy with just getting to sleep on him at night (in terms of contact/bonding).

- though, while he doesn't have a dog, he lowkey treats the lycans as such. keeps them under his control solely through giving them dog treats he buys from the duke. (took him a long time and lots of claw/teeth injuries to figure that out, but hey, better late than never).

--warning: the next few paragraphs discuss weight insecurity and body dysmorphia. i'll let you know when the segment ends so you can skip it if it's triggering or makes you uncomfortable--

- he's insecure about his body, both the scars littered across it and his weight. the first can't be helped and he's aware of it, however the latter TECHNICALLY CAN be and thus it bothers him far more. he used to be in a better shape, both mentally and physically, before his life was completely consumed by his work and plans of the rebellion, however these days, he just can't afford to focus on keeping himself in shape (he doesn't have the time and energy to exercise outside of the weight lifting he has to do while working, and same goes for taking care of his diet. cooking and eating balanced food takes too much time and energy, making him resort to whatever is the quickest to make and will keep him going through the day). he feels intense discomfort when looking at younger pictures of himself, he can't help but feel that he has "let himself go" in the recent years, however simultanously doesn't have the time and energy to do anything about it. it's frustrating and makes him feel out of control.

- alcina once touched on the topic while arguing with him, and it fucked him up. up until then he clang onto the small bit of hope that maybe noone has noticed the changes in his body, that maybe it was just him that was hypersensitive to it and in reality it wasn't that visible, and alcina's comment instantly shattered it. not only did she notice, but she apparently considered it worthy of using against him. there goes his last bit of confidence.

- it was one of the very few times she has seen him actually cry (before storming off to hide himself in his factory). it was also one of the few times she had apologized to him. she has made comments about his height and general looks before, and it never seemed to bother him, he always retorded back with a snarky remark targeted back at her, so she truly thought he had no insecurity issues- but this time, for the first time, he just looked hurt, almost disbelieving, and ran away without a word. it made her initial anger melt away instantly, realizing what she did. she ran after him a few minutes later, hoping it wasn't too late and she hadn't done unreversable damage. the whole incident was a major blow to her ego, especially as she was forced to beg karl over the intercom to let her in, but she wouldn't have forgiven herself if she didn't tell him that she was sorry and didn't mean it. she had to admit to herself that it truly was a low blow and she couldn't let herself be carried away like this ever again.

- karl's confidence never really healed from the incident, it's not something he can just forget. but he did get a kick out of having alcina beg for forgiveness, so he considers at least that to be an upside of the whole thing.

--weight/body dysmorphia discussion ends here--

- he gets sensory overloads easily, especially from loud noise, making him snappy if there's too many people talking/making noise. he also often has issues with things touching him when he's already stressed - due to this, he keeps a hairband in his pocket at all times (to keep his hair out of his face), and has tied the belt of his trench coat behind his back so it wouldn't touch his arms while moving around (that one is actually part of his character model). having things hanging off him irritates him greatly.

- he has a tendency to cling onto/hug whatever is in his reach while he's asleep. usually it's a pillow or his blanket, but it's also a risk one should be aware of when choosing to sleep in one bed with him. you're gonna wake up in a death grip. and he's a heavy sleeper, so don't even think about going to the bathroom.

- speaking of physical affection, he loves massages, they're one of his favorite types of affection to receive. any kind of them, really. he's sore most of the time, so a bit of relief is always greatly appreciated. back/shoulders after a long day of work, tummy if his cadou is bothering him or his eating habits fucked him over again, maybe even hands if he's worked manually for too long and his palms are starting to cramp. it's all really appreciated. (another factor contributing to why he likes them is that they're completely selfless acts of affection. his partner isn't getting anything out of it (like they would with anything sexual or romantic), its only purpose is to help him feel better. makes him feel loved.)

- speaking of, he literally cried the first time ethan gave him a shoulder rub. feeling the decades worth of pain, tiredness and muscle strain that he didn't realize he felt finally fade, be washed away, made his eyes water, he couldn't help it. it wasn't long after they had moved in together (as roommates, since karl had nowhere to go), and to karl, it felt like an affirmation that it's over, he can relax, he can rest now. no need to keep overworking himself, to keep not letting himself ever catch a break because "he might like it too much and stop chasing his goal", to keep doing anything to keep himself going for years on end despite knowing it's ruining his body. it's done, it's over, he finally deserves a rest. it made ethan deeply confused and concerned before karl sobbed out why he's crying.

these are all for now, i think! at least all that comes to mind at the moment. if you'd like me to talk about headcannons on a specific subject/topic (or expand on any of these ones), let me know! i'm sure to think of something that i haven't already, or forgot to write down. i just love talking about headcannons, man.

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on... some funny games

[no spoilers to speak of]

Thoughts on Lair of the Clockwork God

The wisdom of the gaming cognoscenti insists that comedy is hard to do in video games. Having grown up with Monkey Island and Zork, I've never found this convincing. But one true thing is this: it's hard to write about comedic games. The ineffability of humor is hard enough to describe in less-interactive media; I can't even explain to my partner why Gretchen saying "I met January Jones once!" on You're the Worst busted me up, and they were sitting right next to me when she said it. Throw in the "you had to be there" nature of the player's active participation and I lose myself in a cornfield. The thing I found hilarious might come a beat to early for you, or not at all, or not be funny in text like it is in gameplay.

Why did I like Lair of the Clockwork God? It made me laugh.

The premise and particulars are a lot of "that could go either way." Ben and Dan - stars of Ben There, Dan That and Time Gentleman, Please! - have returned. Ben is still an adventure game star, but Dan has adopted platforming mechanics in an attempt to get with the times. So playing the game involves switching back and forth between a character who can leap across canyons but can't pick up items or talk to people, and one who can combine inventory but can't climb over a 3-pixel rock.

Does that sound potentially funny? Potentially grating? Yes to both!

The plot centers around our heroes trying to save the world from several simultaneous apocalypses and having to teach human emotions to a supercomputer in order to do so. (Don't ask.) These means, rather like Ben There, Dan That, traipsing through a number of fantasy worlds (read: computer simulations) until the correct emotion is provoked. This requires cross-genre cooperation: finding ways to get Ben to areas only Dan can access, getting Dan new power ups by combining objects in Ben's inventory (an act Dan insists on calling "crafting").

The best bits are at these intersections, when Dan's platforming is the puzzliest and Ben's puzzles take advantage of Dan's skills. Periodically the game gives you a Dan-centric platforming gauntlet the controls are NOT precise nor pleasant enough for, or a Ben-only moon logic puzzle that leaves you googling the walkthrough.

But I liked it! A lot. The genre-hopping seems to have invigorated the developers, Ben Ward and Dan Marshall. I discussed my favorite joke in Ben There, Dan That (in what is probably the least popular video I've ever made that wasn't asking for money), but was also dismayed that the game was never that clever again. But this one is, several times over! Progression here involves cheating your way to a better respawn zone, goofing around in game menus, exploiting "glitches," exiting out and loading up entirely other games. There is a lot of poking and prodding at what a game of this nature can or should be.

But, honestly? The only real selling point is... it was funny. The humor is as anarchic and metatextual as in previous titles, but it feels good-natured in a way BT,DT didn't. And there are, here and there, little bits of meat on its bones - the characters wondering if, as a couple thirtysomething white guys, the world hasn't left them behind, no longer comfortable with the juvenile humor of their youth but not really understanding the youth of today, but having not yet fully escaped the mentalities they used to hold. (There's an unspoken humor to Dan's idea of "modern" gameplay being 2D platforming mechanics, especially at a time when adventure games are significantly more popular than on his last outing; this is a good joke whether or not it's intentional.)

Also: this game contains the most poignant urinating-on-a-grave puzzle in gaming history, and you may quote me on that.

Having finished it months ago, I can't even remember what all the gags were that tickled me at the time. Comedy fades from memory faster than drama or frustration. Mostly I just remember having a good time.

Thoughts on The Darkside Detective

Here's a hook: sometime after the mayhem ends in Ghostbusters, The Exorcist, Evil Dead 2, or some other paranormal blockbuster that you watched over and over in the 90's until the VHS wore out, some overworked detective has to come into your town and piece together what the hell happened.

This is his story.

It's a good gag, and the devs wring every drop from it. Existing in a world where these things are commonplace and you have to fit them into some notion of "police procedure" is just funny. Like, it's one thing to have a running gag where you keep observing the moon in outdoor scenes, commenting, with increasing hostility, that its behavior is suspicious (it has been present at multiple crime scenes); it's a slightly different thing when, given the things you've encountered, the moon being the Big Bad is actually somewhat possible.

The game is divided into six main cases and three bonus DLC missions (which come included in the base game now, and the third of which is the proper ending/setup for the sequel). You are the cop tasked to deal with The Other Side - and, when The Other Side bleeds into our own world, its cops have to deal with you. You have a sidekick with a mental maturity of about 6, which I guess makes you the straight man. (You have to grade on a curve to find a straight man in this game.) And you solve tasks like rounding up escaped gremlins or finding an AWOL lake monster all juxtaposed with mundane problems like inter-office squabbles and having not bought your Christmas presents early enough. It's (pleasantly) lo-res and sparsely isolated, so the dialogue and premise do most of the work, but they are ably up to the task.

The gameplay... not so much. I'm an adventure game lifer, so I can put up with a lot of nonsense. It's mostly straightforward inventory puzzles and occasional minigames. Most of the puzzles are fine enough. As the cases progress, things get more involved, and the DLCs especially involve some awful moon logic. And the minigames are not above using that same jumping peg puzzle you've solved in a dozen other games already. So gameplay ranges from serviceable to irritating, but it mostly exists to string together funny lines and silly images. (Christmas mall elves being secretly in service to Krampus - that's the kind of thing we're talking about here.) You won't feel much guilt for opening up a walkthrough; the puzzles aren't why you're here.

The sequel has just been released, and both games are cheap, so check them out if you feel like smiling.

Thoughts on The Procession to Calvary

It's rare for a game to be hilarious to look at.

The Procession to Calvary takes its name from the Bruegel painting. It also takes all it's graphics from Renaissance oil paintings, and the designer delights in making famously rendered heroes and religious icons steal, stab, fart, and swear.

A strong Terry-Gilliam-with-After-Effects vibe is what we're describing.

You play as a lady knight from a war that's just ended, which sucks for you because, in this age of peace, you're no longer authorized to kill. And killing's, like, you're whole thing. But the one person your new, pacifist king wouldn't stop you from killing is the warlord you just deposed, who fled to the South. So you embark on a nonsensical journey to seek out the one human on Earth you are authorized to kill, because killing is just The. Best. Ever.

Of the three games we're discussing, this is the most overtly cheeky, and, at times, the most scatological. I could've done with a bit less scatology, if I'm being honest, but the cheekiness is very winning. As with Lair of the Clockwork God, a lot of jokes could go either way - a field of people being tortured and a woman on a blanket selling commemorative torture merch could be painfully try-hard. But something about the victims being seemingly everyone ever crucified or broken on the wheel in a famous painting, and having them writhe on their crosses in a way that is both gruesome and goofy, and having a cacophonous soundtrack of their screams and moans that you will now imagine every time you look at one of those elegantly elegiac paintings from now on... it works. That the music score is being played by an extremely jaunty piper who dances behind you just out of sword's reach as you traverse the field pushes it over the top.

Oh, and the puzzles, while never hair-pullingly obtuse, will leave you stumped at times. Push past that to get the proper ending, but, if you're sick of trying, you can, at any point, just start stabbing your way through problems. Which, again: it takes a very deft touch to make "protagonist resorts to violence" actually funny rather than lazy and obvious. And maybe, in another game, the perfect timing of every animation, the clever quips, the careful contrast of cathedrals and high-society music halls with gleeful sword-swinging wouldn't be enough. But something about it being frickin' Renaissance paintings carries it the last mile.

This is probably the basest game of the three, but it's also the one that made me giggle the most. Having a BFA that required several art history classes may have something to do with it. But check this thing out.