#I will be able to understand the rules and mechanics of all the things I want to know and struggle with

[merkerlerspeaks]

707 give me your brain give it to me I want it

[mayspicer]

Ok, the boss is no more! There were some super stressful moments but surprisingly we all survived o:

My animal companion got hit with disintegrate, but we had hero points to make him avoid it. I would cry actually, because disintegrate means no resurrection x_x

The war is prevented! At least this one, because Cayden's party is right at the center of a much bigger one just starting. Today we saved the country. Cayden is trying to not even save the whole world, just maybe slow the whole thing down and save as much people as possible...

[malewifesband]

EDIT: if this post has made you think about whether or not you are autistic, im really glad! i hope you get some better understanding of yourself and are able to find community and support

however before you go and tell a therapist and seek an official diagnosis please read this thread and consider the points made therein:

autism is highly stigmatized. be fully informed about what you gain and what you lose from having an official diagnosis before seeking one.

EDIT OVER ENJOY THE POST

people do correctly identify that laios is autistic fairly often but a lot of the reasoning begins and ends with his special interest and social difficulties, but honestly it goes far deeper into the build of his character than just those two things

his pain tolerance is wildly inconsistent, unable to tolerate a drop of hot oil (or any heat) but able to shrug off both his leg being bitten off and it being reattached

hes sensory seeking in the extreme. he rubs the bat bones against his face, pets and fluffs the shapeshifter tail.

his desire to eat monsters comes from three very autistic places. 1) the rules for why monsters are not okay to eat but animals are are arbitrary to him so he cannot follow them easily: he cannot understand the 'feelings' argument others make. 2) this too is a sensory seeking behavior. he wants to experience these new things, new flavors and new textures. 3) it completes his knowledge of the monster in question to also have data on its edibility. because he cannot draw that arbitrary line around all monsters, he wants to evaluate them case-by-case and see if real patterns emerge. butchering and eating the monsters improves his knowledge of them greatly and highlights their importance in their ecosystem, as well as making him a part of that same ecosystem

he cannot emote the way others expect him to. he compartmentalizes his feelings (to an unhealthy degree) because he needs a pragmatic solution. so as long as there is a problem to solve, that matters far more than evaluating his emotions and allowing himself to experience them. while this is also a coping mechanism for ptsd, it is a trait found in many autistic people regardless of trauma, as we have trouble sorting the feelings we have and often need time to think about what we feel, so it becomes easier to simply not do it and pretend we dont need to. laios emotions certainly affect him, with or without his processing them, but others do not see what they expect to see and thus dismiss that he is feeling what they would feel

he is incredibly gifted with pattern recognition, observation, and analysis within realms he understands. to understand subjects that dont come easily to him, he must filter them through his established schema (his special interest--this is why they are so special! they help us sort the world). when he isnt sure about the social cues and details hes observed in the shapeshifter arc, he filters it through the lens he understands best: monsters. he was making correct observations about his friends all along, but he could not be confident in that the way he was about their behavior when it came to his interest (chilchucks caution, senshis passions, and marcilles carelessness)

[grey-sorcery]

New to witchcraft? Awesome! Here's some things you should pursue.

An understanding of sympathetic magic: Correspondences, their metaphysical and theoretical framework, and their derivation.

Magical systems that incorporate the entire gender spectrum.

Energy work that isn't based on visualization.

The means of manifestation: How, where, and when spells affect physical change. The physical mechanisms through which witchcraft manifests beyond just willpower/intent/wishes/etc.

The history and subsequent influences of, and on, popular contemporary practices like Hermeticism, "Ceremonial Magick"/Golden Dawn, Wicca, and New Age/New Thought/LOA/Reiki.

How to approach and practice magic with critical thinking skills.

Influence of consumerism on contemporary practices.

Divination as systems: all methods of divination beyond tarot, their statistical applications, and their different methods of use.

The anthropology of medieval Arabia, Europe, Near East, and Asia relative to the magical or occult publications of the era. What is purely religious, parareligious, or syncretist and what does that mean for the interpretation of the text?

The genuine limits of our knowledge of the ancient world, what's possible for us to know and what can't we know?

Conversations with practitioners of closed or semi-closed practices and perspectives of POC when it comes to what the western world would label as "witchcraft".

The differences and similarities between superstition and the practice of witchcraft.

An understanding of the influence of colonialism on modern witchcraft and the language used to discuss magic.

Critical Race Theory (CRT), Queer Theory, and systems of oppression.

Botany and herbology: An understanding of the physical and medical properties of plants.

Building a personal lexicon for modern and/or colloquial terms used in and by the witchcraft community to describe and discuss practices.

Spell design: What makes a spell a spell? What is the smallest or slightest action that can be considered a spell and why? What are the most important and influential elements of the design and application of a spell?

Altars: Their use, design, and potential; whether or not an altar would benefit your practice or goals for practice.

A critical approach to spirit work and astral projection, being able to discern between personal narratives and probable experiences.

A safe and solid community to become a part of. One that does not allow the influence of personal narratives (Without addressing them as such), doesn't allow for the mixing of adults and minors, and with established and enforced logical and reasonable rules.

Collect and cross-reference correspondences from as many sources as possible, then start to create your own.

Try to find a STEM subject that interests you and study it through any non-dogmatic avenues available to you.

The items highlighted in blue are things I highly recommend!

Here is a list of things to avoid.

This is, of course, not an end-all-be-all list of possible responsible and healthy pursuits.

You can learn more about me, find my master-post, check out my Patreon, and suggest content here.

[raguiras]

POV: Deuce's very first kiss from his crush

(Click for better quality)

I'm finally officially introducing my Yuu/OC x canon/Yumeship here! (✿◕‿◕) Writing this post took me forever, but I'm super happy with it!

Reblogs are super appreciated hehehe

Please be kind & DO NOT take inspiration from this ship. ^^"

(While Allen isn't me, I'm calling them a Yumeship because he's based on my younger self/me when I first started playing TWST & because the ship gives me a ridiculous amount of comfort!)

Allen x Deuce (aka Spade of Storms) is my ultimate comfort ship and they mean a ton to me.

These two are best friends who become lovers and closely mirror each other. Deuce is the delinquent with rather bad self-control who tries to be a model student, while Allen is a former honor student who's now a very lowkey delinquent with stellar self-control and a mature attitude.

Due to the fact that Allen and Deuce are so similar and yet the opposite of each other, they're able to excellently understand and support the other, and they help each other accept themselves.

Their ship blog: @spade-of-storms (facts, drabbles & more est. May 2024)

Now why exactly are these two perfect for each other? Well...

LONG TEXT AHEAD!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Deuce:

Allen supports Deuce with all his heart. Instead of believing that someone "as stupid and temperamental" as Deuce could never become an honor student, Allen fully believes in him and encourages him. In comparison to when other people say it, these words actually have an incredibly strong impact on Deuce and are believable to him because he knows that Allen has similar experiences and speaks from them.

Allen doesn't think that Deuce is stupid in the slightest and views him as genuinely smart. To Allen, intelligence isn't determined by grades or academic abilities, but by morals, attitude, logic, and willingness — all of which Deuce has.

Allen doesn't try to change Deuce. Rather than turning Deuce into a full-on honor student and role model, which he isn't by nature, Allen prefers for Deuce to stay true to himself and work towards his goal while not suppressing any aspect of who he is — Allen knows exactly that forcefully becoming someone you naturally aren't would cause more issues than it would fix. In order to assist Deuce with staying true to himself while working towards his desired self, Allen does several things:

Allen lets Deuce be his 100% authentic self when they're together. Deuce tries extremely hard to always be polite and serious in order to maintain his reputation and not resort to old habits, but Allen, being very impulsive and easily angered himself, knows just too well that suppressing one's feelings and true nature isn't the way to go. When they're together, Deuce can openly rant about topics, use insults towards the people who angered him, and show his emotions without having to worry about how others perceive him or about how it might mess up his reputation — Allen would never judge Deuce nor share his secrets with others. This way, Deuce can be himself without restraints while also maintaining the way he wants others to perceive him.

Allen allows Deuce to be a delinquent in a safe, harmless way. If Deuce ever feels like doing something forbidden without breaking rules or staining his reputation, Allen (a very lowkey delinquent) has just the ideas for him. This provides a comfortable space for Deuce to live out his tendencies without falling back into bad habits.

Allen is able to introduce Deuce to a wide range of healthy coping mechanisms that work for him. Allen is a much angrier person than Deuce and is equally impulsive, but has stellar self-control due to the methods he uses, and passes them down to Deuce. As a result, Deuce doesn't feel the need to immediately lash out at others anymore and manages to become calmer and much more mature, taking steps into his desired direction.

Allen helps Deuce channel his "negative traits" into positive/helpful ones. With Allen's assistance, methods, reassuring words and unique view on things, Deuce learns how to use the qualities that he used to hate about himself to his advantage. Suddenly Deuce's anger is no longer a hindrance, but a source of energy and motivation.

Allen admires the things Deuce hates about himself. While Deuce wishes he wasn't as hot-headed, Allen views it as an amazing trait and sees the passion and longing for justice behind Deuce's fiery attitude. Additionally, Allen is able to help Deuce see the positive side of these traits, and aids him in channelling them into something good to use to his advantage (see above).

Allen is the only person to fully get through to Deuce. Due to them essentially having the same experiences, opinions, wishes and morals, Deuce felt comfortable trusting Allen with every last bit of his heart (in comparison to other friends) — not to mention that the way Allen was able to help Deuce so intensely and actually talked to him the way he needed it also played a role! Allen has his way with words and knew exactly how to talk to Deuce from the beginning.

Deuce can genuinely open up about his self-esteem to Allen. It's been heavily hinted at in the game several times that Deuce thinks incredibly lowly of himself, but this topic is usually cut short and he doesn't talk about it further with the canon Yuu. With Allen, however, Deuce can open up all he wants to. He knows that Allen has similar experiences and struggles with self-worth related issues himself, therefore not only not judging Deuce, but also fully understanding him.

Allen perfectly understands Deuce's past. Having been feared, avoided and known to be a delinquent/bad kid himself, Allen even understands the details extremely well. Neither of the two ever had a proper friend until they met each other on their first day at NRC.

Allen successfully helps Deuce with his studies despite hating school. Seeing how Deuce needs help, Allen (the "gifted kid") gladly volunteers, even though he's no longer interested in class and has sworn to drop the "honor student" facade himself. Due to Allen's easy explanations, methods, photographic memory and capability to catch on quickly, Deuce actually manages to improve his test results by 1-2 grades.

Allen's study methods are unique, which helps Deuce & is necessary for him. Being a slow learner (I also hc him to have some sort of intellectual disability), Deuce requires rather unique approaches to topics. As Allen is well-versed with both studying and psychology and also keeps Deuce's exact issues in mind, he's able to perfectly tailor methods and mnemonic bridges that actually work out for Deuce.

Allen makes sure that Deuce's desire to be a model student is & stays healthy. A fair part of Allen's trauma stems from being an honor student himself and having unrealistically high expectations regarding grades and attitude shoved down his throat by everyone at school (including himself), so he pays a lot of attention that the same doesn't happen to Deuce.

Allen respects Deuce a ton. Not only is Deuce determined, passionate, loyal, honest and eager, but he has the same core values as Allen, too. In Allen's opinion, finding someone with these traits is not only rare, but immediately makes them endearing to him.

Allen is patient with Deuce. He understands that Deuce occasionally has a difficult time processing and understanding things, and he isn't bothered by it in the slightest. This means even more when you consider that Allen is generally a very impatient person and is only able to be patient with those he truly loves and trusts.

Allen fills Deuce in when he doesn't understand something. Due to Allen being able to catch on extremely quickly, he can immediately explain things and situations to Deuce, helping him out and allowing him to get everything right from the beginning.

Allen indirectly protects Deuce. Known for being intimidating (in a good way), quick-witted, sly and a skilled schemer, most people — including those who enjoy picking on Deuce — shy away from Allen and avoid getting in trouble with his friends.

Allen stops Deuce from getting into fights. Whenever Deuce is about to get into a fight anyway, Allen gently but sternly reminds him of both his goal and the healthier coping mechanisms.

Allen understands that Deuce dislikes being picked on. Allen, being a sensitive person, hates it himself, and he actively tells off everyone who dares to make fun of Deuce or call him "Loosey Deucey". At times, Allen even gets snappy because of the inappropriate nicknames or insults directed at Deuce.

Allen inspires Deuce. Him being skilled at a variety of things and just logical in general gives Deuce the motivation to achieve the same. Deuce doesn't compare himself to Allen, either, and views him as an inspiration. If Allen can control himself and get positive things out of his negative traits, so can Deuce, right?! Not to mention that Allen is extremely tough and pulls through no matter what despite his mental and physical state...

Allen's maturity subconsciously wears off on Deuce. Even outside of the fact that Allen helps him grow and improve a lot through all the ways mentioned before, Deuce sometimes also subconsciously copies his boyfriend's mature attitude or asks himself what Allen would do in certain situations.

Allen is an advisor to Deuce. Deuce struggles with planning ahead, and Allen — a big-time overthinker who's extremely competent at scheming — is able to assist him. As a result, Deuce makes less bad decisions.

Allen loves blastcycles. Deuce can rant about them to Allen for hours, and the two often go on blastcycle dates together. Nothing is more fun than clinging onto your partner while driving at full speed!

Allen values Deuce's company like no other. Deuce regularly feels like a nobody, and Allen takes that feeling from him due to how much he connects with him and likes having him around.

BONUS: Allen is not only beautiful but also has an incredibly strong personality, drive, and determination and hasn't given up despite everything that happened to him. Deuce is a massive simp and his humongous crush on Allen has always been obvious due to how Deuce just can't shut up about him.

Allen:

Deuce loves and accepts Allen's body. As we have seen through his interactions with Azul and Epel, Deuce is very protective of people who don't fit the norm, and Allen is another such person — an intersex boy who was bullied for his unconventional body. Deuce has not only sworn to protect Allen from any possible discrimination, but also loves his body dearly and thinks he's super hot.

Deuce gives Allen a sense of stability. Allen's life was all about short-lived fake joys and prevailing negativity prior to coming to Twisted Wonderland, which made him feel disconnected from many things and people and gave him the feeling that everything is temporary anyway. However, Deuce's fierce loyalty and the strength of their relationship prove Allen wrong — yes, there can indeed be things in life that last forever.

Deuce's utter affection warms Allen's empty heart. Allen was never loved by anyone but his parents, who he thinks only love him because he's their son. Other than that, he never experienced love, affection, ... or even mere friendship. He was alone... until he met Deuce, who he somehow immediately connected with. It was as if their friendship was predestined by the universe... and with every day, Deuce's affection for Allen only grew.

Deuce genuinely admires Allen. Seeing how Allen always does his best, works hard, has ambitions and aims to improve impresses Deuce a ton. This is extremely healing for Allen, whose efforts were never properly recognized or rewarded before and who thinks that he needs to perfect at everything in order to be "someone".

Deuce makes Allen feel useful and resourceful. Allen often believes that he has no worth and could never make a change for the better no matter how much he tries, but seeing just how much he's able to help Deuce with a wide range of things proves Allen wrong — he's indeed capable of a lot of things. Not to mention that Deuce even passes some of Allen's tips down to Epel!

Deuce's honesty is refreshing to Allen. After being lied to and tricked by about anyone Allen ever knew before coming to Twisted Wonderland, Deuce's natural honesty and loyalty are an unfamiliar but utterly wonderful experience for Allen.

Deuce makes Allen feel understood. Allen often believes that others would view him as a monster if they were aware of his secret anger and opinions, but Deuce shares many of them. These two can openly talk about their values together and Allen feels extremely understood because of it — a feeling he barely ever experiences with other people.

Deuce helps Allen enjoy the moment. While he has some overthinking tendencies himself, Deuce is much more spontaneous than Allen and tends to act more on impulse. As a result, he can show his ways to Allen, allowing the overthinker to finally relax and think about his problems a little less.

Deuce doesn't hesitate to stand up for Allen. The fact that Allen was bullied for something he can't change in the past saddens and angers Deuce, and he has sworn to himself that he'll always protect his boyfriend. If there should ever be another situation where Allen gets bullied, Deuce won't hesitate to absolutely throw hands — this is not being a bad person and picking fights, it's standing up for an innocent person whose life was ruined by malice. Deuce wouldn't regret it in the slightest anymore, especially since Allen has helped him learn than anger isn't a bad thing.

Deuce helps Allen with becoming a proper mage. When Allen first gains magic during the final quarter of the school year, he has absolutely no control over it and is partially even avoided due to being a "walking health hazard". Deuce, however, sees this as the perfect time to pay Allen back for helping him study theory and decides to assist Allen with practical things. Through Deuce's determination and belief in him, Allen is able to improve much quicker than he would've without Deuce's help.

BONUS: Deuce is the warmth and honesty that Allen needs in his life. The boy's mere presence lights up Allen's day and Deuce's careful physical affection makes him feel like the most cherished person in the universe.

What else is there to them? (examples)

Both are extremely close with their families.

Due to being so similar and sharing many personality traits, loving each other so deeply allowed them to realize that they can easily love and accept themselves, too.

Deuce's previous incarnation had a crush on Allen's, who died way too early. In this life, the regrets of the past are being fixed.

Allen's the brain, Deuce is the brawn.

They're both extremely cuddly with each other.

LOTS OF COMPLIMENTS (from both sides).

Deuce often gifts Allen plushies.

Allen and Deuce are basically inseparable by now.

If you hang out with Deuce, you have to suffer through at least one tiny ramble about Allen.

...and much more that can be found on @spade-of-storms!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like the art & ship and are looking forward to more of them! (✿◕‿◕)

EDIT: Please do not take inspiration from this ship. ;-;

[deathbxnny]

Heyy! May i request gallagher, sunday and boothill with a reader who is like furina?

(hiding her problems and fears while acting happy and quirky)

~🎀

I absolutely love this idea, especially because it's about Furina, who I also love, hehe!! I also made this into a teen reader, which I hope you don't mind, anon!! I'm just craving some platonic stuff lately. So thank you for this request, Anon, and I hope you like my post!!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, teen reader, angst, hurt/comfort, manipulation/brainwashing for Sundays part, father figures hsr men, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》GALLAGHER

Gallagher saw through your facade with ease yet didn't dare push you to reveal your true self to him for a multitude of reasons. He mainly, however, didn't want to overwhelm you, figuring that you hiding your true self was just a coping mechanism for a darker past you were desperately trying to keep away.

And so he let you prance around the bar in your fake grandiose personality, whilst he kept his eyes on you at all times just in case. He knew you'd break eventually, and not because he necessarily wanted that to happen. He just knew that a young kid like you couldn't hold out forever.

Whether you do finally let the facade drop one day or not is up to you in the end, however. He makes it clear indirectly that he's there for you no matter what. And even if you never reveal your darkest fears to him, he'll always watch over you anyway as well.

》SUNDAY

Sunday also immideatly notices that your rather loud and proud personality was all a facade to hide a dark past even he had yet to discover. And unfortunately for you, he doesn't shy away from confronting you for your own good. Some may say that it was a little harsh or maybe even reckless, but Sunday always believed to know better.

This most likely leads to you having to drop your mask and tell him the reasoning behind your fake smiles and quirky behaviors. Whether through your own will or his own is up to you to decide, although he also sees no shame in either. If it helps you, then he'll stop at nothing to make you feel better.

You can get angry at him, you can cry to him, you can also bury your face into his shoulder and let yourself get comforted by his sweet, soothing voice as well. He doesn't mind it. Even if some of it is influenced by his tuning ability. But you can't blame him for using his power on you, right? You understand that it is for your own good, yes? He just wants to help you.

》BOOTHILL

It takes a bit for Boothill to realise that your personality is fake, mainly because he sometimes finds himself doing the same thing at times. He only notices that something is amiss when you suddenly burst into tears, overwhelmed by your hidden emotions at last. And it all suddenly clicks in his head, that he couldn't help but knock on it in self-disappointment.

He's not good with emotions, but he likes to think that he was once good with kids. He'll pull an arm around you, pat your head, tell you that it's all good and to just let it alllll out to your old man Boothill. He doesn't mind your tears staining his steel, an old memory of him soothing a young toddler coming to mind when he allowed you to cry into him.

He knows that as galaxy rangers, you should be independent from him, fully able to be on your own and deal with your emotions as they come. But he finds himself simply making you promise to be yourself from then on as you continue on your journey together. He may be breaking some rules... but it's all good in his book, If you're happy with it, too.

Alrightttt... I hope this was okay Anon!! And thank you again for the request, I loved it!!<33

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Can you do Harbinger Headcannons for a reader who has a hard time with being social and recharges by being held? For example: they get overwhelmed after being out and about all day but have a very hard time asking to be held because they don't have the energy to communicate it. (Oddly specific but it's what I deal with)

A/N: I chose these by generating random numbers 1 through 11 and then choosing said harbinger by their rank. It’s purely by luck and I’m happy that Scaramouche and Arlecchino randomly got picked.

Also I had a very hard time finding anything about Pulcinella’s personality or what he’s like since we only saw him in the winter's interlude so if you’re reading this from the future and I’m wrong then I’m sorry. I tried my best.

Harbinger headcanons for a reader who has a hard time with being social and recharges by being held

Scaramouche

- Isn’t thrilled with physical affection but he does understand having your social battery being drained so you both compromised so no one would be uncomfortable and you got to lay your head on his lap while he ran his hands through your hair until you were ready to interact with others. Sometimes he also used your want to escape and get away from social gatherings because he doesn’t like them on a good day.

- Eventually he does come around and grow more relaxed about the whole thing, going as far as to hold you in more ways that you’re both comfortable in and have tea brought for the both of you. You will have to specify if you want a sweeter tea because he’s having his bitter as usual.

Sandrone

- Sandrone completely understands and often has her mechanical puppet use it’s hands to shield her from others so she’s “alone” in a sense. She is debating on making a hollow chamber in it’s chest so a person can rest in there comfortably and safely. You’re treated no different and if you aren’t sitting with her or on some part of the puppet (which almost never happens unless she’s in a harbinger meeting or called to see the Tsaritsa).

- You’ll never hear complaints or declines from her and you quickly taken somewhere else to recharge in her arms like how her mechanical puppet shields her with her arms or simply moving to another room. She’ll take you in her arms and let you rest against her chest, running a hand through your hair and cuddling with you in the hollow warm chamber if you ask.

Childe

- If it were any other person then he’d say pushing your limits is how you should live however this is someone he deeply cares about and knows that when you speak up about needing to be alone and recharge you mean it. You’re always a priority to him and fighting is a second but if he has harbinger work then he’ll do his best to cuddle with you till you’re alright. Childe will bring you along if he has easy missions that he thinks won’t injure you and make sure that you can be comfy but also safe while he balances you and his work.

- He is the best at cuddling and sis very attentive however once he’s has you in his arms you’re staying there for at least an hour or too. So I hope you don’t have anything important soon because even when your social battery is charged he’s going to be very happy with snuggling with his lover and being able to not think about work for once.

Arlecchino

- At first you’re scared to ask her at all since she’s very intimidating but since she’s very observant and perceptive it’s only a matter of time before she’ll talk to you about it. Arlecchino is very loving and soft when it involves you and she’d do anything for you. Pretty much anything that doesn’t break her rules. When you tug on her sleeve and discreetly glance at her with a tired shy expression the knave will excuse herself from the public conversation she’s having. You’ll be lead to an empty room hand in hand and placed on her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair or drawing circles on the top of your hand while you recharge.

- You both made a sign for when you feel like this and she respects it without any question and when she put the pieces together she cupped your face with no judgement at all in her expression. Kissing you softly and resting her forehead on yours. “Try to not be scared of telling me your worries or wishes because I love you no matter what, darling. Now do you want a signal to let me know or would you rather be held now and think about it later?”

Pulcinella

- You don’t need to ask him because he’s going to insist that you never need to ask for permission about anything that’s bothering you or making you uncomfortable and simply guiding you to a small empty room so you can recharge with him. He can also almost know when you’re running low on your social battery if he’s with you and ask you, normally he’s right 99% of the time. If he needs to do harbinger work then he will work on some of it but you’ll be sitting next to him in a hug or leaning your head on his shoulder.

- He’s rarely called for on missions and so you don’t interact much with anyone but him but when you do it’s usually for galas and formal events that makes it hard to sneak away to get away from socializing. He makes it work though, easily slipping out of the conversation he’s in and making an excuse of an agent calling for an urgent message while guiding you to a small isolated part of the room where almost no one can see the both of you. You cozy up to him and he’ll talk you quietly about meaningly topic if you want to be distracted or remain silent if you want it to be quiet.

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

[thydungeongal]

Hello! Sorry for the basic question (double sorry it’s a d&d 5E question), but what do you think are the key hallmarks of a dungeon that D&D mechanics want to interact with? Like what absolutely distinguishes a dungeon from an “encounter” (sorry for the d&d language) and makes one work whilst the other fails?

I want to get confident at GMing, and have only ever GM’d one thing for one session (it was 5E but we didn’t really use the mechanics at all…), but everyone at my nerd shop/in my friend group only wants to play 5E and I’ve basically only ever played d&d, and I feel like to get them to play anything else I’ll have to run 5E for them to get them to trust me first. (It’s also unfortunately the only rule set I have real mastery of bc reading the rules of games just doesn’t translate into understanding a game to me, I assume for mild learning disability reasons)

I really believe you (and other women) when they say that d&d wants to be doing dungeons, but I feel like I don’t really understand what is is *about* a Dungeon that D&D is suited for. (If anything? Maybe 5E isn’t actually suited for anything). Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense. The vast majority of the d&d I’ve played has been 5E modules that are not interested in dungeons, and I have felt the game fighting the module, but I don’t really understand what (if anything) the game wouldn’t be fighting against.

Oh, this is a really fun ask!

First of all, I don't think D&D is bad at "encounters." In fact D&D pretty much codified the term. What I am on about when I complain about "encounters" is a terminology issue: the term isn't neutral and carries a lot of implications specific to the genre of games that D&D is a part of.

I've also previously complained about the idea that encounters are something that is planned and constructed ahead of time: like, putting a bunch of guys in a room and then writing "this is the Combat Encounter with a Bunch of Guys Room" in your notes already creates an expectation in your mind about what should happen.

Anyway, onto the subject: D&D as a game, regardless of edition, cares about a few things: first of all, it's ultimately a game of resource management and attrition. During the course of an adventure there is a clear arc where characters will slowly lose resources and in general won't be able to recover to full until they return to a place of rest. (Note: my phone wanted to say "return to Islam" and like hell yeah, I think D&D characters should return to Islam.)

Secondly, D&D, all editions, is ultimately a challenge game. It's not a game that cares about exploring a character's emotions or morals (although those can give the game some added spice!) but a game about characters going into Situations and Overcoming those Situations. A lot of the time this translates to combat, but not all the time. Characters have, at their disposal, a lot of tools that can potentially turn a potential combat encounter into a different type of encounter or even allow them to avoid encounters altogether.

And finally it is a game that cares about space. A lot of RPGs, especially of the trad variety, care about space in the sense that distance and position are usually at least somewhat important to them, but sort of built into D&D's DNA is the idea that the space of the dungeon or the battlefield or the world map itself is valuable.

Anyway so dungeons are pretty much a good microcosm of that. First of all, the very act of going into a dungeon builds a barrier between the "safe" world where characters can rest and recover and the dangerous world where there's random encounters and monsters, so the moment the characters leave the safety of their town the resource management mode is on. Second of all, there are a lot of Situations characters can get in both on the way to dungeons and therein. And finally the space of the dungeon itself is important and meaningful since it contains Situations but also the very act of exploring the dungeon figures meaningfully into the resource management minigame (if the characters push further will they still have enough resources for a return to safety?).

Now, a D&D game doesn't really need much more than a dungeon to be satisfying provided:

The dungeon is a place in the world that ties into the setting and has some context beyond just being a place with monsters and treasures in it.

The space of the dungeon is built in such a way that characters can make meaningful, informed decisions about which route to follow, how far they are willing to push, etc.

The characters have a reason to go into the dungeon.

That last bullet point is pretty much moot in older editions, because in those editions the act of going into the dungeon really is its own reward: that's where the gameplay is and where the rewards are. But since modern editions tend to de-emphasize the need to just loot treasure and grow in strength you might want to give the characters an extrinsic goal for exploring a dungeon. While I personally prefer the intrinsic reward of just exploring a dungeon as its own satisfying gameplay, I think it's entirely valid to give characters other objectives to pursue within the dungeon. Heck, if you can tie them into character motivations, that owns.

Anyway, I hope this wasn't too rambling. I am kind of having a tired and depressing day, but this ask was fun to answer so thanks for that. And if you have any further questions or you'd like me to elaborate on something, don't hesitate to get in touch again! :)

[rainyinautumn]

alright with wild life ep. 4 coming out soon it's time for me to start talking winner predictions. in order to understand my bet, let's first understand why past winners won—and, for bonus effect, why another player who I think really had a shot ultimately lost.

GRIAN. The traffic crown typically falls on the head of whichever player is most able to bend and break the rules to their advantage. 3rd Life, as the archetypal Life Series with the fewest rules to manipulate, was won by the man who understood (and broke) them best—their inventor. Throughout the series, I think Impulse demonstrated a similar cunning and could have been able to pull off a win. His error was failing to establish trust with his allies in a series that was defined by its faction loyalty.

SCOTT. With the introduction of the Boogeyman, Last Life demanded a winner with a level head. With favorable relationships paving the path to regaining lives, there was very little wiggle room for more aggressive, risk-taking players, making this season favor players with high survivability. Continuing the trend of rule breakers, Scott was the only player to weigh the odds and refuse to act on the Boogeyman curse—which ultimately paid off for him. Similarly calculating and loyal is Etho, who lost this win by aligning himself with a volatile group that failed to lend him the stability Scott had throughout the series.

PEARL. It was so, so much easier to die in Double Life than any other series, and so its winner was the player who proved to be able to survive without a soulmate at all. The thing about Life Series gimmicks is that they are always, always the thing that kills you—as such, refusing to engage with them as intended elevates one's chances of victory. Such is the case with Pearl. Cleo also failed to engage with the Double Life mechanic as intended, but lost (ironically) due to her ability to forgive and the endgame belief that aligning with her soulmate was the wisest move.

MARTYN. Limited Life introduced the ability to live longer by killing, and as such encouraged players to pursue maximal violence with minimal risk through traps (namely, falling TNT minecarts). If playing by these rules led to a win, the victor would have been crowned on Skynet. Instead, Martyn broke the season-long strategy and a few series expectations along the way to opt for an absolutely brutal PvP win, which he pulled off by being the only one crazy enough to try. A good few other risk takers had a solid shot of winning this season—namely Joel. Unlike Martyn, however, Joel was unwilling to gamble with the permanent death of his teammates, and this soft spot led to his demise.

SCAR. On the surface level, Secret Life's gimmick asked its contestants to be good at the game—to be good at keeping their mouths shut, good at following directions, and good at reading other players. The kicker with all of the tasks, however, is that the gimmick is the thing that kills you, and what the tasks actually asked was for players to be bad at the game in one way or another. This made earnest attempts at success by far the most risky path forward (especially once yellow names started being able to guess tasks), and as such, Scar's continually baffling behavior worked in his favor. Similarly incomprehensible, Skizz's playstyle lent itself well to this series—however, he was simply too likable. The secretive nature of the tasks in this season brewed a hostile atmosphere in which trustworthiness made one a threat, and the Heart Foundation painted a target on him that he was unable to shed.

So. Who do I think is winning (and almost winning) Wild Life?

GEM. Of all the players in the Snailpocalypse, Gem was the only one to doggedly refuse to fear and avoid her snail. Wild Life is designed to breed uncertainty and chaos in its players, and her refusal to give in to this makes her a good contender for the crown. However, other players have begun to notice this, which could place her in hot water. My second winner pick is BigB—although more willing to engage with the wildcards, BigB has always thrived in the strange and peculiar, making him less outright afraid of them and putting him in position to potentially rise above them down the line.

[cripplecharacters]

hello! feel free to ignore me if this is slightly outside the boundaries of this account, but i'm a tabletop roleplaying game (ttrpg) designer looking for opinions on mechanics for disability in games.

my game specifically covers a lot of themes that, while not about disability, would make me feel remiss to not include some explicit mention of how physically/mentally disabled characters fit into the greater picture of the game. it has a specific focus on telling stories of diverse characters, for one, and on fighting the unfair capitalist systems that harm these marginalized groups.

my issue lies in how, exactly, to both treat this topic respectfully and make the characters not feel out of place or unbalanced. i've considered several options, and was curious to hear from a physically disabled perspective how to proceed (i am mentally ill & neurodivergent, but to my knowledge not physically disabled).

option one: mention that disabled characters of all kinds are encouraged, and talk about roleplaying them or provide resources for how to handle them respectfully, but don't apply any specific rules with hard mechanics or numbers to them. this option is least likely to be inadvertently misconstrued or written poorly on my part, but may make disability feel like a "flavour" side note.

option two: provide examples for some common disabilities on the mechanical effects (such as a low vision character rolling less dice on rolls to notice visual details) without any "counteracting" mechanics. this one gives mechanical weight to disability, so it feels less like an afterthought, but may discourage people from playing disabled characters as they would be more likely to fail than other characters.

option three: the above, but with mechanical incentives for roleplaying in a way that acknowledges the character's disability. a "benefit", but less "giving a blind character echolocation" and more "gain XP for showing your characters disability and any aids they use" (similar mechanics exist for following your character's goals/personality traits). this would make disabled characters be more on par mechanically with other characters, but i fear it may come across as... viewing disabled characters as not worth it without some sort of benefit, i suppose?

apologies for the long rambling message, but i'd love to hear which of these options (or another suggestion) you'd be happiest to see in a game written by someone who isn't physically disabled! this is far from the focus of my game, but it's still an important part of the greater theme that i'd love to be able to get right. thanks! (similarly, if there are any groups not covered in the "underrepresented but common disabilities" post from your FAQ that you'd want to see in a game, i'd also be happy to hear those!)

Hello!

First things first, thank you so much for thinking about this! This isn't something that most TTRGs consider and, as a massive nerd who plays DND, Pathfinder, and other tabletop games, this has always been a big pet peeve of mine since making a disabled character is always unnecessarily hard to do with the game mechanics and rarely works out well.

Most of the time, I have to talk to my GM about how to make it work in their game and, unfortunately, I'm often told they won't allow it because it's "too much trouble".

This is all just to say, I really love the idea here and the fact that you're actually thinking about these things and wanting to do well by them is great!

Now, taking a look at the options:

Option One

One of the unfortunate things that I see a lot is people that are too scared to get something wrong with representation (Or social justice on a broader scale) that they don't try to do it at all. With this current era of cancel culture and people's reactions to what they deem 'offensive', it's understandable to be a bit apprehensive but if you're approaching the subject from a place of respect and you're receptive to learning and improving, most people will appreciate the effort.

While this option does sidestep the main issue you've identified, I do think it sidesteps the attempt at making disability part of your game as well. You can encourage people to make disabled characters all you want but without any real content for them in the game, it won't do much.

If you do go with this option, I'd strongly suggest including some information on the culture of your world and how it relates to disability, both to provide more substance to the content and to give players a bit to go off of when making a disabled character.

Option Two

I like this option much more than the first one, though I do agree that it may discourage people from choosing to play a disabled character.

Within the game mechanics, I think it makes a lot of sense to have these kinds of effects but I would encourage you to include more variety with it. Disability isn't 'one size fits all' and two disabled people can have different needs, strengths, and experiences -- even if they have the exact same disability. Instead, I'd suggest going for a slightly different model that includes more choices.

For example, a character with low vision may:

- Roll lower on perception checks involving vision

or

- Have disadvantage with ranged weapons/attacks

or

- Have lower rolls/less success in dim lighting

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Having more options for how the character's disability affects them allows players to make a choice for how they want to play the character while also encouraging them to think more about how their character's disability might affect them and impact their life.

The examples given are all reflections of how blindness can affect somebody. Blind spots or blurry vision can make it more difficult to notice certain visual changes, severe nearsightedness can make it difficult to aim/focus on things that are far away, night blindness can make it difficult to see in the dark or in dim lighting, etc. That being said, there are dozens of other ways to go about this (Though I'd advise sticking to five options per disability at most to avoid overwhelming people).

Option Three

Personally, I like this one and the second option the most. Although I understand where your concerns are coming from, it feels less like it's implying that disabled characters have to be 'worth it' and more like it's just balancing it out.

Like with the second option, I'd suggest going for more of a choice model here where the player can pick what 'benefit' (For lack of better word) that their character has -- or even to choose no benefit at all.

Many physically disabled people develop our own skills or tools to compensate for where we struggle, whether this is an intentional decision or just something that happens.

For example, my boyfriend is paralyzed from the waist down and uses a wheelchair full time. As a result, he has kick-ass upper body strength from it.

Similarly, many deaf and hard of hearing people are more observant when it comes to visual cues and many blind people are more sensitive to other senses (Though, of course, the whole 'super senses' thing is a myth).

While this isn't true of all disabilities or all disabled people in general, it is something worth considering.

That being said, if you do decide to implement this option, make sure that the benefit makes sense for the disability or is related in some way and isn't just something random being tacked on -- that would make it seem more like a 'disabled characters need to be worthwhile' thing.

As a few extra notes:

If you go with the second or third option, I'd suggest separating the different stat effects into different types of disabilities. You don't need to go too into specifics with it but something like 'low vision/blindness/vision loss', 'deafness/hearing loss', 'limited mobility', and 'chronic illness' would work. While disabilities are more nuanced than this in real life, setting it up this way would keep it pretty simple and allow players to tweak the mechanics slightly for their own characters.

If you go with the first option, I'd probably avoid discussing how to roleplay disabled characters. Because roleplay and character development is much more open than stats and game mechanics are, showing one or two 'proper' ways to play a disabled character is more likely to reinforce stereotypes, dismiss certain experiences that disabled people have, or just come across as more of a 'lecture' than anything. The same goes for including information on what to avoid. I'd stick to providing information about your world and how disabilities are seen in them instead of giving instructions here.

I'd suggest including ways for players to bypass the mechanics of disability if they'd like to, even if their character is disabled. That would allow for a bit more freedom with how they portray their character and would also ensure that they aren't being 'penalized' (For lack of a better term) with their stats for playing a disabled character. As a bit of an example of what I mean: A character in DND could have been a criminal growing up without necessarily taking the Criminal/Spy background.

In general, I think as long as you're approaching this respectfully (Which you are!) and reaching out to physically disabled people for their input (Which you are!), you don't have to worry too much about misrepresenting it.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[lillified]

Do you have any tips or guides on how to draw transformers (ur art is so good btw)

thank you so much!!

honestly I don’t put together a lot of tutorials or pointers or things like that because all things considered I genuinely don’t think I am /that/ good at drawing robots/mecha/etcetera (I’d love to be better!) but I can give you a few things I try to keep in mind:

unfortunately, one of the most valuable skills you can have is at least a rudimentary knowledge of robotics and the inner workings of machines. after an understanding of human anatomy, being able to recall and eventually even freehand mechanisms like joints and believable machine guts will take you a long way, both in the planning and execution of robot art!

if that sounds scary, a great place to start is just getting your hands on a model—transformer, gundam, whatever works! (honestly I tend to prefer model kits and other non-transformers because, while the functional transforming elements can be informative, most model kit figures are attempting to look more “believable” or “screen accurate.” besides, assembling them yourself means you know exactly what’s in there!). pay special attention to how the parts move and how the mobility is limited by the mechanisms. You can bend the rules, but it helps the verisimilitude if your figures are bending in a plausibly mechanical way.

You can stick very rigidly (literally) to rudimentary machine anatomy (I believe people call g1 style transformers “stacking boxes”) but what I like to do, counterintuitively, is find ways to work around the limits of machining to make my bots feel more organic. Instead of a straightforward hinge joint, I’ll try to replicate the interlocking shape of an elbow, and include physical adductor muscles and other more organic-looking elements (here’s an example of some robot guts from a scrapped comic:)

my point being: don’t forget to get creative with it! find some references of artistic renditions of machine innards and use your understanding of their function to inform your drawing. your robots will stand out if you’re constructing them with an idea of how they work in mind!

I know this was more conceptual than direct, but I hope this helps regardless!!

[glassbirdfeather]

Complaining about the final boss in Shadow of the Erdtree, both in terms of lore and mechanics. Spoilers for the end of Shadow of the Erdtree:

Part 1: The Lore

I think the ending is really good and foreshadowed well in it's own story. I think it is fitting and well told. But it isn't living in its own bubble. It exists in context to a previous story directly connected to it. In the context of the entirety of Elden Ring, it sucks.

If we were just dropped in the Shadow Realm and the main game didn't exist, it would be really, REALLY good. The problem arises when also having the context of who Miquella was in the base game. His motivations in the DLC retcon the motivations from the lore of the base game. And the retcon is worse. The thing that made him fascinating was that he was the only compassionate character among Marika's children, the only one who didn't care about petty power plays because he was focused on helping people and helping his sister. That it is revealed he is just as shallow and self-centered as the rest, so much as to be willing to endanger his sister in exchange for a consort after all the lore surrounding how he wanted to help her, takes away the facets that made him unique.

This may also contribute to why there are two general camps of people who like or don't like how Miquella is portrayed. There have been a couple of years between the original game and now. Memories of the original game's lore--if people even read those particular bits of item descriptions in the first place--have had time to fade.

However, I acknowledge that item descriptions in Elden Ring intentionally have author biases. It could be said that every Miquella-related item description was told from the perspective of someone bewitched. That would make a lot of sense.

So in the end, this also is a personal preference. I think that Miquella turning out to be a brat who will sacrifice his sister for his consort is much less interesting than him being motivated to do bad things for his sister.

This leads into the overlap between pure lore discussion and mechanics.

Part 2: I CAN'T FUCKING SEE

The last boss fight is shit. Part of what convinced people that the leaks were fake, not considering lore implications, is that many people looked at the attacks that were happening and judged them to be bad.

As someone with a passing understanding of editing animations and moves in a game, something that can be done with little modding skill to create a new enemy is to use existing animations and add new effects to them. People were convinced the fight was fake because of how many moves looked similar to ones from previous FromSoft bosses with lightning effects glued on. I cannot speak to the alleged copied animations in this fight, since I don't have experience with every FromSoft game, but I don't actually think reusing old bosses and animations is inherently a bad thing. The real complaint was that it looked to be both reused animations and extra effects.

Stretch new textures over existing enemies, increase the speed of their attacks, and then add events to those attacks that spawn a bunch of effects like explosions, or lightning bolts. These are all things I could do with my limited knowledge. These are the things that some mods have done, and have gotten ridiculed for. The ridicule is because doing that demonstrates a shallow understanding of what makes a fight not just hard, but fun.

I'm no master of boss design myself, but I can say with confidence that spamming incredibly long attack chains containing effects that blind the player and prevent them from seeing the next move in the chain is bad game design. Something that has been established as an unspoken but understood rule in souls-genre games is that you should be able to dodge an attack while standing point blank in front of the enemy. Whether this is by rolling, jumping, or running away, you know what's happening from seeing the start of the enemy's animation, and you should be able to escape being hit by the attack. I also argue that by this metric, Waterfowl Dance is a badly designed move, but I digress.

Waterfowl Dance is one move in an otherwise stellar boss fight.

In the DLC final fight, I. can't. see.

The screen is covered in lightning for at least 1/3rd of the battle, often making dodging a game of guess and hope. I 100% acknowledge that I was not good at that fight, and that many of the attacks that hit me were dodge-able if I'd learned them more. But some of them were chains of attacks that demanded I blindly learn a random rhythm of button presses. On account of all the lightning from the previous attack hiding the next swing.

One of the things I actually did like about the fight was the grab being a guaranteed 2HKO regardless of health values. It would have been a great gimmick on a better fight. Where I had a better probability of seeing it so I could dodge it.

I also liked the warp-in speed effects of the boss jumping in, although such warps felt very buggy.

Were the lightning effects transparent or otherwise did not obscure the battle so terribly, I wonder what kind of fight it would actually be. Maybe the attack chains only feel unreasonable to dodge to me because I cannot see what is happening in them. It is possible that the fight itself is just bad, and the lightning is, just like in a bad mod, being used as a crutch to hide a very boring, simple moveset.

But it is impossible for me, in the game's current state, to imagine how that fight might play.

Because I can't see shit.

Part 3: The Remembrance

Turning in the remembrance and a duplicate of it just to end up with a total of 3 Radahn swords I think really shows the lack of creativity under the lightning. That is what the essence of the DLC final boss distills down to: 2 variations of a sword we already have.

If the fight had been something COMPLETELY different, perhaps we would have gotten something interesting from Miquella's side of the pair. Something that bewitches a struck enemy? I don't know.

The last fight was a spectacle, but only due to all the fancy effects that it vomited everywhere. Remove them, and I suspect there exists an uninspired base.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 22

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 8125

Warnings: Dean's "memories" from the night at the bar when he saw her again after leaving after graduation. New Year's Eve in this one - 18+

A/N: Well, here it is everyone, what Dean was going through over the course of the story. I hope it was worth the wait. Things will pick back up on 10/24 with Chapter 25 and you'll still get next Friday's up on the 25th with Chapter 26. <3

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 22

Two weeks after her nightmares began, things were quiet but odd. The cameras would catch movement here and there, but no signs of life—human or animal—ever showed up. She’d rewatched them and hadn’t seen anything. Dean had his suspicions, but without being able to see anything, he didn’t want to say anything that might worry her further. The girl really had been through enough.

Dean kept his thoughts to himself, especially when she’d glance at him, waiting for him to explain the unexplainable. He hated that he couldn’t tell her. It still weighed on him, just not as badly as before. The truth was slowly coming out, and she was a trooper, taking it in strides, mostly. 

When her nightmares kept coming, he began sleeping next to her. At least when he was there, she didn’t have them. It broke his heart to see her being pulled under, getting dragged into a darkness she couldn’t escape unless he was there to hold her. Most times, he’d slip into her bed after she would go to sleep, just to make sure the nightmares wouldn’t come. He relished in the feeling of holding her close, feeling the warmth of her petite frame against his chest. It was times like this that he let himself dream about a life with her and let himself feel the love he no longer denied was there, even if she was fighting against her feelings. She never seemed to mind the mornings she woke up in his arms, either sneaking out of bed before he woke, or giving him a sleepy smile if he’d lingered there too long, watching her sleep as he held her.

Then there was her mark. Feeling it burn her like it did was an odd sensation at first, but he quickly recognized the symptoms of when it would happen—anytime she fought what she was feeling for him. Every time she pushed things aside, he’d grab the cream and show up wherever she happened to be sitting. Dean couldn’t help but smirk when she gave him that annoyed look. It was the flicker in her eyes when he’d glance up at her as he applied the cream that made his pulse quicken. But neither of them spoke, each having their own reasoning.

Dean had gotten tired of the silence from the outside world. He desperately needed some sort of news. So, he’d retreat to another room, out of her earshot, so he could call his brother or Jodi. Sometimes, he’d call his father or even Ellen just to ask questions that he knew they didn’t have answers to. Truth be told, he missed them, just as much as Y/N did. The only thing he’d gotten that was helpful was that Sam had managed to find a judge who would at least take a look at the case.

He knew that wasn’t a guarantee that the judge would take it on. The Vaughts were dangerous, and people who went against them tended to disappear or have their lives ruined. Dean had looked at the paperwork. Even if he didn’t understand all of the legalities of it, Sam had reassured him that with what they had, they could get a judge to rule in Y/N’s favor.

He slipped out of bed early one morning. It was New Year’s Eve, and he wanted to do something special for her. They hadn’t celebrated any of the holidays, but that was mostly because he didn’t want her to miss her family any more than he knew she already did. Holidays were supposed to be spent with loved ones, and it was just the two of them.

Something Dean was good at was cooking and mechanic work. So, he found some rather interesting things in the pantry and began preparing breakfast for the two of them while enjoying some coffee. He loved seeing her faces when he made odd concoctions out of the things her parents had stocked the place with. Most of them made him chuckle. He knew this morning's concoction was going to do the same, make her wonder what the hell it was.

When he heard her yawn, he glanced over his shoulder, watching as she sleepily made her way to the coffee pot. “Morning, Sweetheart,” he said with a small smile.

She barely registered his words as she poured herself a cup and collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. “Morning,” she yawned out.

Dean chuckled as he plated up the odd concoction he’d put together. “Hungry?”

“I guess,” she mumbled, sipping her coffee with a content sigh.

He set the plate in front of her, watching her reaction as she stared down at it. It didn’t look like much, but at least it smelled halfway decent. “I swear, it won’t kill you if you eat it. Had to get creative,” he said, laughing at the skeptical look she gave him.

She took a bite, and the surprise on her face made him grin. “Honestly, it’s not bad,” she finally admitted.

“Glad you like it,” he replied, trying to stifle his laughter. He wasn’t going to tell her what was actually in it—no need to ruin the moment.

“I’m looking forward to tasting how you cook normal food,” she teased with a small smile.

“This is normal food,” he shot back with a playful chuckle, taking another bite himself.

They ate mostly in comfortable silence, only breaking it to talk about what little there was to do around the bunker. She washed the dishes while he finished his coffee, mentioning something about wanting to look around again.

Dean groaned from his spot at the table. “We’ve been over this place like a dozen times already.”“I know. I just want to look,” she replied absentmindedly, her focus more on the dishes than him.

He grumbled under his breath as he headed out to the living room. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off of her, of his want to just go hold her while she did something as simple as washing the dishes. A western seemed like a good way to pass the time, so he popped one in and let the familiar music fill the room.

Dean sat on the couch, the sounds of gunshots and the familiar twang of western music filled the room. He wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, though. His thoughts kept drifting back to her, the weight of her unspoken questions that he kept getting bits and pieces of in his head. He knew she wanted answers, and it hurt that he couldn’t just tell her everything. When he felt her sadness, a sigh left his lips. She was reading her parent’s letters again.

He shifted, feeling the pull in his chest again. She was sitting at the table, going through those damn files for what had to be the hundredth time. He knew she wasn’t making much headway, and the legal jargon was probably driving her nuts. Still, she kept trying, and he admired that about her. Hell, he admired a lot of things about her.

Dean closed his eyes for a second, letting out a breath. He could feel the confusion, the sadness, and the few words from the questions that always seemed to circle through her head: birthday, marriage, soulmate, don’t hope, sweet. He wanted so badly to go tell her everything, but he knew if he did, it could overwhelm her. Sam had explained just how bad it could be if that happened, and Dean couldn’t risk having to rush her to a hospital, not now.

He was just about to go get himself some more coffee when her voice cut through the bunker. “Dean!”

He bolted up from the couch faster than he meant to, heart hammering in his chest as he rushed into the security room to her side. “What? What’s wrong?” His voice came out more panicked than he intended, but she had sounded like something was seriously wrong. He also didn’t miss the way she glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to the monitors.

“A rock set this one off,” she said. Her confusion almost relieved him. At least she didn’t suspect anything, but he knew otherwise.

Dean leaned over her shoulder, his gaze following her pointed finger to the small, almost imperceptible shift on the camera feed. It was just a rock, but a deep sense of unease started creeping up his spine. “A rock?” he echoed, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. However, he couldn’t keep all the concern or worry out, knowing instantly that she’d picked up on it. That girl was too damn smart for her own good sometimes.

“Sweetheart, move,” he said, his tone firmer now, as he gently but quickly took her place in front of the monitor. He had been worried, ever since that first nightmare she had, that the Vaughts would try to find her. 

“It’s just a rock,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Dean didn’t respond. His mind was already running through every possibility, pulling up old footage to find a pattern, anything that could give away who was throwing the rocks and what they were attempting to do. He could feel her eyes on him, her curiosity mingling with a hint of frustration. But she didn’t push him. She never did. Instead, she busied herself with cleaning up the papers on the table before leaving the security room.

He could feel the subtle tug of her emotions, a dull throb of restless energy that was making his chest feel tight. But he couldn’t focus on that right now—he had to figure out who was setting off those damn cameras. He replayed the footage again, zooming in on the rock that had set it off. 

A rock. His gut told him this wasn’t some random occurrence. “No such thing as coincidence,” he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as he switched to a different angle, hoping it might give him a better view. The footage flickered, pixelating for a second, and his stomach dropped. Something wasn’t right.

He thought about the conversations they’d had about this place. She was so sure they were missing something, and hell, maybe she was right. A hidden room or some passage they hadn’t found. His eyes drifted to the door of the security room that was in her closet. Part of him wanted to be with her, feel her warmth close by, maybe even try to convince her to watch a movie with him and just cuddle like they typically did in the evenings. 

Dean shook his head, turning back to the monitors. He clenched his jaw and leaned forward, scrolling back through older footage. He had to stay focused. Whoever was out there wasn’t going to get the jump on them. The Vaughts were clever bastards and had been manipulating her family since before she’d even been conceived. 

His fingers hovered over the mouse as he paused on an older clip. Another rock on another day, triggering another camera at another angle. These weren’t just random. His pulse quickened, his eyes scanning for any other camera to have picked something up outside the area it monitored. But, there was nothing. The frustration of it all gnawed at him. He pulled his burner phone out of his pocket and called Jodi.After two rings, she picked up. “Jodi, I need you to get someone or several cops to watch the house. Someone is trying to find a way past the cameras.” Dean quickly explained, managing to keep his tone mostly calm, but there was a hint of worry, and Jodi instantly picked up on it.

“I’ll do what I can, Dean. With everyone believing that the two of you went on the run, it’s gonna be hard to guard an empty house,” she sighed as she sat at home, sipping a cup of coffee. She’d been worried about this, too, and there was only so much she could do.

Dean thought as one of the videos played on a loop. Now that he’d seen the rock, he couldn’t just unsee it. “I’ll send you the recordings. Get them to Sam. He might be able to push for something when he gets her case in front of a judge.”

“I can do that. How are the two of you?” she asked with that softness he’d come to appreciate from her. She was family, and she was worried about the two of them.

He sighed as he leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Good, mostly. She had a nightmare. I’m worried she’s getting premonitions, Jodi. Alastair was in her nightmare. She described him to a t.”There was silence on the other end of the phone, and the seconds felt as though they stretched for hours before she spoke. “I’ll do everything I can to keep them off your trail, Dean. They’re not going to get to her. Not if I can help it.” With that, she hung up to go share the information with Bobby and then everyone else.

He slid the phone back into his pocket and sighed as he leaned forward, going through the tedious process of sending all the videos to Jodi. “Like hell anyone from that family’s getting to her,” he muttered, jaw tightening. It wasn’t just a promise anymore—it was the one thing keeping him from tearing apart every lead until he got to the bottom of this, and Y/N was safe. 

Something in him tugged at the bond between them again, that almost-connection where he could feel her emotions, hear the faint echo of her thoughts, but never quite all of it. Sometimes, it frustrated him, as much as it reassured him that she was nearby, safe… for now. Even as he sent the recordings to Jodi, that nagging feeling of wanting to just take Y/N and go on the run pulled at him. Running would be easier, but it’s exactly what they wanted. Out in the open, exposed. Hell, he wasn’t going to make it that easy for them. The thought was almost unsettling, but he knew that family all too well. They were safe in the bunker.

Once he finished sending the recordings to Jodi, he ran a hand down his face. He wanted a beer, something to settle his nerves, but it wasn’t like he could just go take a trip to the corner store for some. He also wasn’t about to get into the whiskey. He was saving that. Dean finally got up and headed out to the kitchen, but the bunker suddenly felt oddly empty, like she was gone, and he felt his chest tighten with worry.“Y/N?” he called out, his voice tinged with concern. He could still feel her, but she felt far away, faint, distant.

Just as he entered the living room, she emerged from behind the bookshelf. He looked at her, his confusion giving way to a flicker of relief. “What’d you find?” he asked, now confused as to where she’d been.

Her excitement was palpable. “You’re gonna love it,” she said, her enthusiasm distracting him from the tension of earlier.

She grabbed his hand and let her lead him down a flight of stairs. He knew she had no idea how she affected him. The way her smile soothed his soul and brought a smile to his lips. Or how her touch helped him relax, even with everything else going on in the outside world. Dean was so focused on her, on letting her emotions of joy wash over and through him, that he barely noticed where she’d brought him until the cold air hit him when she opened another door.

It was a walk-in freezer, and his surprise was genuine. The room was a treasure trove of meat, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, we’re having steak tonight,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation. He picked out a couple of steaks, the joy of the discovery easing more of the stress he had been feeling.

They moved back out into the game room, and he finally looked around. If only they’d found this a month ago. There were board games, books, more movies, and right there, in the center of the room, was a beautiful pool table. Dean let his eyes linger on the pool table. “Might have to test out that pool table later,” he said with a grin, letting his thoughts of her play through his mind. Some of them having to do with far more than just playing pool. 

Her curiosity brought him back to reality, thankfully. “Do you even know how to play pool?” she asked.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, yes. I know how to play pool.” It was a small, normal moment, but it was quickly overshadowed by a small red light blinking near the doorway.

The red light was a harsh reminder of their predicament. Dean’s smile faded as he saw the look of alarm on her face. Without a word, they rushed back upstairs, both of them forgetting to turn off the lights. He followed her into the security room, steaks still in hand. No matter what it was, he had decided he would still go through with what he’d wanted to do with her that night. 

Dean set the steaks on the table as he stood behind her, seeing that the cameras had been set off by yet another rock. He knew he had to give her something. “They’re trying to figure out where the cameras are and how far they can see,” he said, attempting to explain without revealing too much of his own unease.

She looked up at him, confusion evident in her eyes. “What do you mean?”He leaned against the table, crossing his arms, the weight of his concern evident despite his attempt to remain composed. “Sam’s at least got your case in the system, and the first court date is next week, but that’s just to hear it out. Vaught’s men are trying to find you before your birthday and before things get too far in the courts.”As he spoke, Dean’s gaze was fixed on the monitor. The red flash reappeared, and the rocks they were using were nearly impossible to detect. Her quiet question about their safety hit him hard. “But they can’t find us here, can they?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“So far, I don’t think they can,” he replied, trying to maintain an even tone. “Jodi even called in some outside help to keep an eye on the house, but these guys are good. At least your parents hid the cameras well. We won’t have to worry unless these people find them and take them out.”

Dean’s ability to mask his emotions was something he knew she’d noticed. He kept his expressions controlled, but the little things—his rigid posture, the way he rubbed the back of his neck—spoke volumes. Her question about why he seemed to be hiding something was a painful reminder of the fine line he was walking.

He sighed, the heaviness of the situation settling over him. “Sam found a loophole in the paperwork. If he can’t get a judge to take on your case and have the paperwork in a judge's hands before your birthday, Cole has the legal right to marry you, and no one can stop it. He could even make the case last for years in the system, and you’d have to stay married to him.”The gravity of his words wasn’t what hurt. It was her fear that knotted in his gut. He hadn’t wanted to have to tell her that, but she deserved the truth and not more lies. The one word that echoed through her mind, echoed in his. It only made him more determined to make the rest of today less stressful for her. He wanted to see her smile again and help her relax.

Dean eventually retreated to the kitchen, setting things up so he could cook for her later. He still wanted to give her something that would bring back her smile, her laughter. He missed it. Those things had a way of making their time feel more comfortable, even slightly normal. Like they were living together like normal people, and there wasn’t anything horrible going on in either of their lives.

He went and inspected the game room a little more afterward. If things were different, he could see her having Jo and the guys from the garage over, drinking, listening to music, playing pool, and having a good time. Dean let his mind wander to better times, dreams that, perhaps one day, might be possible. Her getting to have a normal life, hopefully with him by her side. The thoughts brought a warmth to his heart. Somehow, he’d give her that, even if she didn’t choose him.

Hours later, and after a movie he’d found in the game room, he stood in her doorway, cream in hand. Her mark had been bothering her for almost a half hour, and she was again ignoring it. He watched her, though, seeing her leaning against her headboard, book in her lap, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. It was moments like this that she looked beautiful to him.

Dean finally knocked on her doorframe, trying to push away what the sight of her stirred in him, but it was getting far harder to do. With the cream in hand, he offered a playful smirk, knowing how she was going to respond to what he was about to say. “You know, Sweetheart, I think you’re far more stubborn than I am.”Her response was as predictable as ever, rolling her eyes when he held up the cream. He had allowed himself to feel her emotions, so hearing her thoughts was getting far easier as well. Dean nearly chuckled at her thoughts as he applied the cream to her mark. His fingers worked with the familiarity of someone who had done this countless times, but today, with her thoughts, his mind wandered. He felt her eyes on him, and he wondered if her frustration of it all might bring her out from behind the walls she had built so high.

Without looking up to meet her gaze, he asked, “What’s got you so frustrated?” Dean focused just on her mark and the cream he was applying. He had to. Being this close to her always brought back how soft her lips had felt against his own.

“How are you doing that?” she asked, and he nearly chuckled at her frustration, knowing exactly what she was asking about.

“Why can’t you just answer my question?” he mused, glancing up at her through his lashes, knowing he was getting to her in a way she had never let him before, and he liked it.

When she explained what was bothering her, he listened, wishing she could go outside but also wishing she’d just tell him the things she kept to herself. The things he would get whispers of in his mind. He finished up with her mark and capped the cream before risking looking into her eyes. He could easily get lost in them, so he had to keep reminding himself that she had to let him in and not to push.Dean cupped her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin and seeing how she held her breath, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to go through this alone.” His words came out softly, a wish he hadn’t let go of, then gently pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for a second longer than intended, feeling the soft warmth of her skin against his, before pulling away and leaving her room. 

God, he had to leave her room. The wave of feelings that had hit him when he looked into her eyes made his entire body hum. She wanted to be closer to him, and she was fighting against it. He couldn’t push it though, he knew that. Hell, he was barely holding it together himself, trying to keep his emotions in check. He wanted to love her, but she wasn’t ready to let him in. Dean found himself back on the couch, half-watching a movie to try to keep his thoughts from drifting back to her. But, it was no use. The image of her from earlier was etched clearly in his mind.

Later, he made his way to the kitchen to start dinner to put his plan for the evening into motion. He remembered how excited she’d been when she showed him the freezer and the meat it held. Standing at the stove, cooking the steaks, Dean’s mind wandered again. He kept thinking back to her expression, the desire and vulnerability in her eyes. She wanted comfort, and it was far more than just wanting to be held. The only thing that was keeping him from making the first move were Sam’s words.

The scent of the searing meat made Dean lick his lips. He’d missed steak just as much as she had, and even though he hadn’t skipped any meals, his stomach was growling, and his mouth was watering. A smile found his lips when he felt her hunger. “You really need to stop skipping lunch,” he chuckled, not daring to look over at her. He found her too adorable when she would get like this. She’d done it before, in the first month when they were down there, but back then, the connection he felt to her wasn’t as strong as it was now. 

“I wasn’t hungry,” she told him absentmindedly; her only focus was the steak, and he knew that.

Seeing her lean over his arm as he tended to the steaks not only warmed his heart but made him smile. God, if only she knew how utterly adorable she was. “If I knew all it took was some cooking meat to make you drool, I would have gone looking for some months ago,” he teased her playfully, enjoying that she was in a far better mood at the moment. “Shut up,” she mumbled, swallowing again as her mouth watered.

Dean couldn’t hold back his amusement, “Have a seat, it’s almost done,” he chuckled.

“But, I can’t look away,” she mumbled, and it was at this moment that he wished he hadn’t been looking down at how adorable she looked, so mesmerized by the steaks.

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes glued to the skillet, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. Dean’s stomach tightened. The sound that slipped from him was involuntary, a low groan that he didn’t catch in time. The way she’d licked her lips, then how her teeth held her bottom lip for a moment. He mentally cursed at himself. 

He was utterly thankful when she straightened herself up and sat at the table, even though he knew her eyes were on him. Well, they were on the steaks that were in front of him. Dean took the few minutes as the steaks finished to take some deep breaths, forcing his body to calm down and his mind to think of something else. He knew that she had no clue how she affected him.

Dean plated up dinner, then set one in front of her. The way her eyes were locked onto the steak the entire time pulled a smirk from him as he sat across from her with his own plate. He did miss steak, but at the moment, he was getting hungry for something he knew he couldn’t have, her. “Hope you like it, Sweetheart,” he told her with a smirk of utter amusement.

He wanted to focus on his food but didn’t get the chance. She licked her lips again before she began savoring that first bite of steak, her eyes closed, and the moans of enjoyment had his complete attention. He knew those sounds were for the steak, but they were sinful nonetheless. His breathing had become slightly heavy, his body had warmed, and his cock was twitching, all because she was enjoying the steak he had cooked. Dean shifted in his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable despite the pressing need for release growing.

When she opened her eyes, utterly happy, it took everything in him to keep his wandering thoughts hidden. “You okay?” she asked, a little puzzled, and he knew she suspected something.

Dean coughed in an attempt to clear his throat, looking down at his plate, “Glad you like it,” he told her, his tone heavier due to the desire rising in his body. God, she has no idea, does she? He didn’t trust himself to look at her, afraid she’d see everything he was fighting to hide. Then, when she repeated her question, he mentally cursed at himself for not actually answering it the first time. “Yeah, I’m good.” The words had come out quickly, and then he heard her thought, “Then why won’t you look at me?”

He almost chuckled when he heard her thought. At least she didn’t know. He snuck glances at her through the meal, her soft moans of delight sending a jolt of desire straight through him. He tried to focus on the food in front of him, but every sound she made was like gasoline on the fire burning inside him. He shifted again, but it didn’t help. Dean could barely enjoy the meal, the sounds she made constantly distracting him. He was barely holding on, biting back the thoughts that threatened to consume him. So, he ate a little quicker, then excused himself, practically bolting for the bathroom. He had to take care of himself, or there was no way he was going to get through the rest of the night with her. It was New Year’s Eve, and he had plans. Plans that didn’t include ravishing her.

Neither of them had locked any of the doors, but Dean locked the bathroom door once he was inside, quickly stripping out of his clothes. As he crouched to turn on the water, his cock throbbed, the sounds of her moans still fresh in his mind. He knew he had time; she’d do the dishes like she always did after he cooked. It was her way of saying thank you. With the water the temperature he wanted, he climbed in, letting the hot stream hit his tense muscles, closing his eyes for a moment. He pictured her standing at the sink, washing the dishes in those pajama pants and tank top of hers. It wasn’t that they were tight against her body. It was how they flowed over her curves in all the right ways. His hard cock twitched at the image, and a low groan slipped past his lips. 

Dean pictured himself coming up behind her, his hands finding her hips as he kissed the side of her neck. Her body shivered at the sudden contact, but she didn’t pull away. He nipped gently in the crook of her neck, letting his fingers slip just under her top, her skin softer than he thought it would be. Her grip tightened on the sponge as she bit her lip, and he pressed his body against hers. “I want you,” he whispered before gently nipping her earlobe, causing a quiet moan to escape her lips.As the thought played out in his mind, his hand found his aching cock, hard and leaking precum. He stroked himself, slowly, wanting to drag it out longer, wanting to enjoy the daydream that filled his mind. He knew he had time; the bunker had plenty of hot water, and she would be busy in the kitchen. However, Dean always forgot how he lost track of time when he let himself think of her in these ways, as it wasn’t the first time. He slid one hand up, gently cupping her breast and teasing her nipple with his fingers. His other hand slid under the waistband of her pants, slowly teasing her skin, enjoying how her body quivered against his. Dean felt her grip the countertop to keep herself steady as his fingers found her bundle of nerves. He pulled her flush against him, holding her there, and the moan that left her lips made him moan, deeply. Dean hadn’t realized that moan had actually come out of his mouth as he continued stroking himself, teasing the tip before rubbing up and down his length. But then he felt her, so close. She was there, on the other side of the door, listening to him. He opened his eyes and stared at the shower curtain, his hand still moving. 

The desire that flooded her system only amplified his own as his head tilted back, another groan of need echoing off the bathroom walls. He had wanted to draw it out, enjoy the thoughts that played through his mind, but her presence, her desire, and her own thoughts were making that difficult. He saw what was going through her mind, could practically feel her breath get heavier, and almost smell her desire. Thoughts of what she wanted to do, pleasure herself before he could finish in the shower, made his cock twitch in his hand as he sped up his movements. The desire, the wish that he was buried deep inside her, fueling the fire she’d lit within him during dinner. A guttural moan he knew she’d hear escaped him as his hand hit the wall in an attempt to steady himself as his orgasm crashed over and through him. Dean was panting afterward. He’d never had an orgasm that intense before, and for a moment, all he could do was attempt to catch his breath while his heart pounded. She’d been listening, thinking of him, and she was utterly turned on. He wondered if she’d let him love her, let him into her sacred bubble where she’d hidden her heart. 

He took a shaky breath as the water helped him relax again, cleaning up before getting out, drying off, and getting dressed. There was still his plan for the night, something to help her smile and relax, so that was what he would focus on. He did, however, plan to tease her, very indirectly, so she couldn’t accuse him of doing it on purpose. 

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, feeling more relaxed than he had in days. His mind was clearer now, even if the edge of desire still lingered beneath the surface. The bond he felt with her was undeniable, and no matter how much he tried to keep things light, it was there, burning beneath his skin.

He found her in the living room, sitting on the couch, trying her best to look relaxed, but he knew better. It had been one thing to feel her desire from the shower but another to see it on her. She shifted uncomfortably; her cheeks were flushed, and he could see the desire in her eyes, making him smirk inwardly. The sight of her only added to his determination to tease her tonight, but in a way that wouldn’t make her pull back. He had to walk that fine line—keep it playful, subtle.

“Why don’t we go play some pool?” he suggested, his voice coming out casual as he ran his hand through his wet hair.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Oh. I thought you’d just want to watch another movie and call it an early night,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. But Dean noticed the quick dart of her eyes, the way her body seemed a little too tense, and the whispered curse words that drifted through his mind. She was flustered, and it was adorable.

“Not tonight, Sweetheart. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I saved a bottle of whiskey to celebrate,” he replied, adding that smirk that he knew would get under her skin.

Her expression softened, and he could see her wrestling with herself. It was more than attraction, and he knew it. He knew it was going to be difficult not to chuckle at her thoughts that kept whispering in his mind.

“Sure, why not,” she agreed, and Dean noted how she gave him a neutral smile. Her way of attempting to mask what was truly going through her mind. She couldn’t hide the slight flicker of heat in her eyes as she glanced away. She was far easier to read when her emotions slipped past her walls, and right now, her walls were paper thin.

“I’ll meet you down there. Don’t need you finding my hiding spot,” he teased, throwing in a smirk that had her rolling her eyes as she got up. Dean watched as she headed down to the game room, enjoying the natural sway of her hips.

He licked his lips before grabbing the bottle of whiskey from his bag and two glasses out of the kitchen, relishing in how he hoped the night would go. His original intention had only been to give her an evening to relax, forget about the troubles that weighed them both down. But now, he would see if he could get her to let her guard down, perhaps let him into her heart. He wanted to be close to her, to see that spark of joy in her eyes that had been missing for too long.

When he joined her in the game room, he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips as she set up the pool table. She’s trying so hard not to look at me. He poured their drinks, handing her the glass, his fingers brushing hers for a second longer than necessary.

“Happy New Year’s, Sweetheart,” he said, clinking his glass against hers. 

“Happy New Year’s, Dean,” she replied, her voice soft, her eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than usual. He watched as she took a sip, then tried not to laugh when she winced from the burn. It’d been a while since either of them had drank, due to being in the bunker for as long as they had. 

Dean couldn’t keep that cocky smirk off his lips, the one that always got to her. She was so easy to tease, and he’d been careful before, not to do it on purpose. But tonight was a little different. He loved watching her do simple tasks, like now, how she rested the pool cue against her shoulder, the hair tie held between her teeth as she put her hair up. Such a simple task, but he found it almost mesmerizing.

He let her go first, enjoying watching as she bent over the table. It only fueled his own thoughts of coming up behind her and pinning her there, teasing her body in the most delectable ways just to hear her moans and whimpers of pleasure. He could see the way she was trying to focus on the game, but her emotions, thoughts, and body language gave her away. Her thoughts were elsewhere. They were on him.

So, he used all the little moments he could to tease her without teasing her. With his eyes only leaving her long enough to figure out his next move in the game, it was fairly easy. Anytime he took a sip of his whiskey, he deliberately licked his lips suggestively, holding back a chuckle as he felt the desire flooding her system. His favorite was when he’d line up to take his shot, bent over the table, letting the pool cue slide between his finger and thumb. Dean would look up at her through his thick lashes, that cocky smirk still on his lips before taking his shot. Watching her practically shiver with the thoughts that played through her mind were worth it.

Dean looked over the pool table, noting where the balls were. There were a couple different shots he could easily make, but the one he went for required him to bend over directly in front of her, so that was the one he chose. It was more to fluster her further, and, it worked. He heard her deep inhale of breath, which nearly made him miss his target. Moving to take another shot, “You alright, Sweetheart?” he asked, seeing her drink empty, keeping his tone casual.

“Fine. Why do you ask?” she shot back, her tone trying to sound unaffected, but he knew the truth. Her attempt to brush it off was quite amusing.

“You seem… distracted,” he said, letting his voice drop just enough to hint at what she was trying to fight against, the thoughts running through her mind and the feelings coursing through her body. He nearly lost it laughing when her thought whispered through his mind; “It has to be a sin for anyone to look that fucking hot playing pool.”

“I’m just out of practice,” she replied, waving her hand and again trying to play it off. If only she knew how miserably she was failing at that.

He couldn’t fight his amusement and chuckled at her statement. Dean was enjoying seeing her like this. She hadn’t gotten like this around him before, and he kept hoping that if he teased her just enough, without being direct, she might just give in and let him love her in a way he knew she’d never had. He deliberately missed his shot, noticing her empty glass.

He filled her glass as she lined up for her shot, before she could protest. Not only was her attempt at a serious glare adorable, it made him chuckle. Her stubbornness was something he loved about her, but here, now, stuck in the bunker with an impending deadline, it was frustrating him. Dean could feel the emotions she kept denying, hear the whispered thoughts of worry that tried to tease at her mind, and see the flicker of hope that would flash in her eyes so briefly that one would miss it if they hadn’t been paying attention. 

Dean really tried to let her win. He wanted to, just to see that triumphant smirk on her lips like back at the garage. Sadly, she was so distracted by him that there was just no way. He took note of her watching him, taking those opportunities to enjoy the connection he felt with her while also attempting to keep his own thoughts in check. If only she knew how beautiful she was.

When the game ended, with him winning, he suggested another, wanting to spend more time with her in hopes of getting past those damned walls she hid her heart behind. It took stooping to the level of using a method he wasn’t overly fond of but knew it worked. He pouted at her, giving her those puppy dog eyes she couldn’t resist with the excuse of the meal he’d cooked earlier. Hearing her whine and groan after giving in had all been worth it, though.

Seeing the thoughts that played through her mind were beginning to get to him. God, did she have quite the imagination. A lot of her thoughts were of kissing him, of how his lips would feel against hers. They would only get increasingly sinful after that. But they always seemed to end up the same way: her either lying on or bent over the pool table while he teased every inch of her body. 

If only she’d let me.

The second game was even more torturous. He knew she was barely focused on the game now, and it was obvious in how she moved, how her eyes followed him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Dean kept his cool, though, making sure to keep the teasing subtle, using things from her thoughts to push just gently enough. Dean couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips as he watched her try—and fail—to focus on the game. She was so cute when she got all flustered like that, especially when she tried glaring at him. The frustration rolling off her wasn’t just from losing at pool. It was deeper than that, and he felt it as a constant thrum beneath his own skin.

“You really are out of practice,” Dean teased, falling in step behind her, watching the natural sway of her hips as she ascended the stairs. 

“I told you,” she huffed, her voice edged with the faintest trace of annoyance, but Dean knew she wasn’t mad at him. She was completely sexually frustrated, and he hadn’t made that any easier on her.

Dean grinned, keeping his tone light, although still quite amused at her as he replied, “Looks like we’ll have to play more often. Get you back into practice.”

Her retort was sharp, but playful. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure the whiskey didn’t help my chances any.”

He chuckled again, watching the way she moved toward her room. Dean knew she wouldn’t let him get closer, but at least he’d tried. Before she reached the door, she turned to face him, eyes narrowing in suspicion.“Why are you following me?”Dean tilted his head, offering that smirk that always got to her, hoping she’d change her mind. “Just wanted to give you a hug, since I know you won’t be staying up with me to watch a movie, and I don’t get my cuddles.”He said it casually, teasingly, but there was a part of him that really wanted to hold her close. Her scent, her warmth—she grounded him in a way that no one else did. She truly was his soulmate, and no one could convince him otherwise. And though she tried to brush it off, rolling her eyes, he knew she wanted it too. He could feel it.

Her arms wrapped around his back, and Dean felt his chest tighten as he pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. The familiar scent of her hair and the feel of her body against his had begun to feel like home. The pull he’d felt toward her had only gotten stronger being down in that bunker with her, but he had to hold back, let her make the choice.

As her head leaned against his chest, Dean closed his eyes, letting the moment linger a little longer than usual. He felt the way her body relaxed against him, but there was something else, too—an emotion that hit him like a sudden rush of warmth. It wasn’t just desire anymore. There was a deeper ache behind it, a kind of longing that he couldn’t quite place. Her emotions washed over him like waves in the ocean. She didn’t want to let go of him, and God, did he want to stay right there, just holding her.

It took all his willpower not to let it go further, to not hold on too long. He knew the weight she carried, the way her mind always circled back to the soulmate mark that hadn’t fully formed yet. He felt her hesitation, the worry that held her back from giving in. Her worry that it wasn’t him. The fear was there, too, lingering in the air between them. It was the reason she kept her walls so high.

Reluctantly, Dean started to pull away. It was her doubts that kept him at arm's length, and he couldn’t seem to get past them, to reach her. He could have stayed like that forever, but he knew better. If he pushed too hard, she’d retreat further. When she stepped back, offering him a small, soft smile, he returned it, but inside, he was kicking himself for not doing more.

“See you in the morning,” she said gently, her voice carrying the faintest tremor of emotion. “Try to get some sleep.”“You too, Sweetheart,” he replied, his voice low and soft, wanting to say more but knowing it wasn’t the right time. He watched as she disappeared behind her door, leaving him standing there in the hallway, staring after her.

Dean exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He could feel her emotions, the way they swirled in confusion and longing, and it was enough to make him linger outside her door for a second longer than he should have. He knew she was lying in bed now, thinking about him—he could even hear some of her thoughts.

She was putting those walls up, reinforcing them against the way he’d gently nudged at them, slowly chipping away. With a sigh, he turned toward the living room. “I love you too,” he whispered, finally walking away, his heart heavy.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 23

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[communistkenobi]

I think when people describe dark hallways or all-grey office cubicles as “liminal,” they’re using it as a synonym for creepy, which is not really accurate. What’s being reached for is a sense of dislocation, of being in a place that is not meant for you or is otherwise hostile to you in some way. “Liminal” is limited in its ability to describe those feelings, because the word is typically meant to refer to a place that exists only to get you somewhere else (like an airport, for example, or an interstate highway). “Liminal” isn’t synonymous with “a place of horror,” but I think it’s become that in the tumblr lexicon.

I think a much more robust term for what people are trying to describe is ontological (in)security. Ontological security in geographic scholarship means “a confidence that the world exists as it appears to be.” To give a very basic example, there are handles on doors because the function of a door is to act as a gateway to another space, and the handle is there to open that gateway. You trust that doors with handles are meant to be open and stepped through, and you also trust that door handles will always be placed at a standing person’s waist height - if you’ve ever seen a character try to open a door that leads nowhere in a story, it’s playing with your ontological security. Likewise, you see a flight of stairs and understand implicitly that it exists to facilitate pedestrian traffic to and from a specific place. It’s not a place to have a party with your friends, and you wouldn’t think to go to a stairwell to socialise.

To be ontologically insecure, on the other hand, is to exist in a place that is built for purposes that are not available to you. This is most commonly used in disability scholarship to refer to inaccessible entrances or stairwells - these things exist for able-bodied people only, and the structure of the built environment is now acting as a mechanism to divide people into groups who can use the space and groups who cannot. This is part of the way that ableism essentialises disability, which is then reproduced in the built environment - urban structures are taken as neutral, and if you can’t navigate them effectively, something is wrong with you individually (which of course is not true).

But this idea can be deployed for a variety of contexts - suburbs once built for the wealthy car-driving middle class typically do not have sidewalks in them. And now in many places in North America, suburbs are being inhabited by much poorer families (who are much less likely to own a vehicle), who are being driven out of the city core because now that same wealthy middle class has decided a condo is more fashionable than a detached house. This leaves people to live in places that aren’t built “for them,” to walk in the middle of roads or on lawns because there’s no space for them to walk, forcing them into hostile situations to either be hit by cars or yelled at by neighbours for walking on their grass. These spaces produce ontological insecurity, a sense that you are inhabiting a place that is not meant for you, and because of this you are frequently made less safe as a result.

This is where the critique that cities are structurally ableist, or racist, or misogynistic comes from. Urban environments are usually built by the ruling class, whose interests and aesthetic sensibilities get reproduced in the roads they build and houses they erect, and if you don’t happen to fit the profile of the ruling class (ie most people), some parts of a city are always going to be less safe for you. This is why in extremely spread-out, low density cities (LA for example), public transit is difficult to implement on a structural level (on top of all the political pushback), because these spaces are structured in such a way to be hostile to certain modes of travel or behaviour (eg any mode of transit that isn’t a car). They are built for a specific ideal archetype of person, and if you don’t fit into that, you’re much less safe and much less secure.

So if you want to use this in fantasy settings or horror or whatever, you need to approach the built environment as a historical process the same way that a government or law is. Office spaces are not “liminal,” but they can be sites of horror because their physical structure compels certain modes of social behaviour, and trying to work against that grain can make you feel “out of place” - i.e., ontologically insecure.

[rathayibacter]

been thinking about the parallels between ttrpgs and poetry lately, synthesizing some stuff i've been sitting on with both. i don't remember where i heard this from, but i really like the idea of defining poetry as writing that can't be edited down any more; if you made even one cut, one word replacement, you'd lose something. even the repetitions and redundancies are there to communicate something, because if they weren't they'd be removed. 

its not true, of course, but i don't think it has to be. as a lens to examine poetry i think it's fun, and as a goal when writing poetry it's helped me on more than one occasion. any claim to Fundamental Truth beyond that line doesn't matter much in my opinion. what i like about this isn't that it makes for poetry where you have to read a certain meaning out of every single line to "get it", its actually kinda the opposite! by assuming there's meaning baked into every detail, you can get meaning out of any detail you decide to focus on, and can narrow your focus as much or as little as you like. my favorite poetry is messy, colorful, and dense; you're not gonna get a single clean reading out of it because doing that requires ignoring all the fun little twists and turns, all the intersecting ideas that led it to this point.

and so that brings us to ttrpgs! role-playing games are a fascinating thing because they can really only get us halfway; even the most strict and detailed game has an innate fuzziness that comes from the peculiarities of how we play tabletop games. your mechanics are only airtight if everyone knows, understands, and remembers them, and those are three tall orders for any game, no matter how simple or intuitive it may present as. and that's not even a bad thing! interpretation isn't just "what percentage of the rules are the players getting wrong", its an adaptation of the rules as written to the game as played. even forgotten rules are part of this, cuz anything that's able to be forgotten (and again, that's potentially anything) probably was forgotten cuz it wasn't terribly relevant to the table forgetting it. 

so, as we write games and cast them into the world, fully aware that the thing that'll arrive at people's tables will never match what we had in our heads, what should we do? obviously some of this is just practical; don't bog players down with unnecessary busywork or minute exceptions to memorize, don't build a house of cards that stops working if any one part is missing or changed, you can use stuff like cheat sheets, examples of play, indexes, and asides to make it easier to learn, reference, and remember how to play.

but i promised you poetry, and poetry we shall have! so here's my big guiding principle for writing ttrpgs: only include it if it sings. every part of the game should be special, so that no matter what part or parts of the game a particular table winds up using, the game still shines through. by tangling the spirit of the game up in every line, every rule, every tiny little piece, everyone who engages with it can get tangled up in it too, and can fill in the spaces between in whatever way resonates most with them.

in more practical terms, this is "don't write anything that's less interesting than what the players will make up at the table", ie assume players will fill any missing spaces to the table's preferences, so only close those gaps if you've got something fun to say. don't fill space out of obligation, don't bog yourself down in the stuff that doesn't matter. this doesn't mean never add a polearms list because there's a million polearms lists out there already, but it does mean don't add a polearms list unless you're burning with passion to add it, and excited for people to share in that passion. if you don't, don't worry about it. they can figure it out. the table can always replace your good ideas with ones they like more, and they can always fill in the gaps when they come up, but it's not always easy to recover from a wall of bland filler or an ocean of lifeless cliches.

i wont tell you that if you follow this One Weird Trick then your game will be good. i don't know what a good game is. or rather, i know exactly what i think a good game is, and have no idea what you think it is, and have less than no faith that anyone could ever determine what a Truly Good Game is. but just like the quippy little definition of poetry at the top, universal truth isn't really what i'm after when i employ this. i'm trying to make something that satisfies the little itch in my brain, that sings to me as i make it and keeps singing even after i let it go. moreover, i'm trying to make something that doesn't waste my time as a writer, and doesn't waste yours as a reader or player or fellow designer. 

will this make sure players remember all the rules when they're playing? no, absolutely not. i wouldn't want them to, even if i could force it! but maybe, hopefully, what this does do is lodge one of those little razor-sharp slivers of text in their brains, and it'll sing to them just like it sang to me. not the same song, not the same tune, but just as beautifully.