#and the reason I brought it up in the first place was because I was having the shittiest day and I was complaining about it in the GC

[mindless-existence1]

Shadow x gn!Reader

Summery: Shadow likes to circle reader and he doesn't realize it's a hedgehogs form of flirting.

Authors note: So in this Shadow and reader are already dating and reader tease shadow about it. Also headcannon that Shadow is just super embarrassed whenever his feelings for you are brought up so that's evident here. For @luc1dw0rld

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Shadow had always been an enigma to you. A man—well, hedgehog—of few words, his quiet presence often spoke louder than anything he could say. That’s one of the reasons you liked spending time with him so much.

Whether it was taking long walks through the woods, hanging out at your place, or just sitting in comfortable silence, Shadow had become a fixture in your life. But lately, you’d noticed something odd.

Whenever he was around, Shadow would unconsciously circle you. It wasn’t obvious at first. He would pace behind the couch, stroll to the other side of the table, or subtly walk a ring around you when you were out together.

At first, you chalked it up to his restless nature. Shadow was always alert, always observing, so maybe it was just his way of keeping an eye on his surroundings. Yet it kept happening.

Today had been no different. He’d come over to your place for a casual hangout. After a few hours of light conversation and enjoying each other’s company, Shadow had stood to leave.

True to form, he had started that familiar little loop around you as he made his way to the door. “See you soon,” he had said in his usual even tone before heading out.

As the door clicked shut, you flopped onto the couch, a playful frown on your face. “Why does he keep doing that?” you mumbled to yourself.

Out of sheer curiosity, you pulled out your phone and typed in, Why do hedgehogs circle each other? What popped up made your face heat up.

“Circling is a common behavior among hedgehogs as a sign of interest or affection,” you read aloud. Your eyes widened, and a mischievous grin slowly spread across your face. “Oh my god… Shadow!”

The next time you saw him, you couldn’t resist testing your new theory. He had invited you to meet him at a quiet park, and as usual, he was punctual. When you arrived, his crimson eyes softened, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” you greeted, falling into step beside him as you started walking. As you strolled, you waited. And sure enough, after a few minutes, Shadow started his subtle circling.

He veered off the path slightly, coming around to your other side before falling back in step. Then he did it again, walking a slow arc behind you before casually rejoining your pace.You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Shadow,” you finally said, your voice teasing. “Hm?” You turned to him, crossing your arms with a playful grin. He froze mid-step, his ears twitching as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“What?” Shadows voice wavered slightly knowingly at the tone of your voice.

Stepping closer to him you say, "You li-ke me." You draw out the syllables teasingly. "You circle me because you have a crush on me.” His expression shifted from confusion to dawning horror.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he said stiffly, though the faintest blush dusted his cheeks.

“Oh, really?” You leaned in, your grin widening. “Because I looked it up. Hedgehogs do that when they’re flirting.” Shadow’s hands twitched at his sides, and his blush deepened. "I wasn’t—”

“You so were!” you teased, poking his chest lightly. “My goodness Shads, didnt know you were such a romantic.” He let out an over exaggerated sigh.

“I already told you I like you,” he shot back, his tone flustered yet defensive. You blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden outburst. He glanced away, his ears drooping slightly as he muttered, “We’re dating. That should’ve been obvious.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah, but this is different! You’re doing it unconsciously, which means you really like me."

Shadow groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop talking.” You laugh, “Ah but its my best feature.” He shot you a glare, though the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed his true feelings.

You take him by suprise when you take his hands in yours and spin the two of you around, it resembles a dance. Shadow looks at you with a mix of confusion and admiration that tugs at your heart strings.

“My secret is that i have a crush on you to so we're even,” you said, letting go of one hand but keeping the other so you could hold it while you were walking.

Shadowcouldnt help but match the glowing smile on your face, he lets out a light sigh but didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

[ihrthoney]

for us

pairings: namgyu x preg!reader

warnings: angst & fluff :p

an: i started my first big girl job but im motivated so ill try to post more :)! i haven’t posted in a minute and i hate pregnancy tropes but i make the exception for squid games lol. i will make a part two!

nam-gyu was many things, an addict, a partier, an idiot and a sweetheart. the sweetest ever, actually.

unfortunately for you you worked at club pentagon, which is how you met the physical embodiment of an acid trip.

who he was when he was sober was something you cherished and kept close to your heart. it wasn’t hard to weave your way into his rotten lungs, but soon enough you became his air, his new high.

after learning you never did substances, he switched positions at the club and asked you to get a safer job, not wanting you to inevitably cave to the horrible things that he tries.

you scold him of course, reprimand him and argue about hating how he acted when under the influence. for a while he managed to stop, wanting something serious and stable.

but then he met thanos, he came home obnoxiously intoxicated. nam-gyu was so star struck that he saw a famous rapper that he didn’t understand why you locked him out of the room, until he woke up the next morning with a headache he only got when he was on drugs.

apologies spewed out of his mouth, wishing for a second chance. his wish was granted, he found another outlet for “extra money” and promised you both a fresh start.

until the extra money vanished off the face of the earth and now he was in incredible debt.

the few months of bliss now gone, thoughts of continuing such an unstable relationship this far into life didn’t seem like a good idea. the arguments were bad, mostly on your end as you couldn’t get him to stop begging and spilling empty promises,

“i’ll make the money back and i’ll work harder to make more for you, please baby i’m so sorry.” the sight of him on his knees and holding your legs would’ve been kind of sweet if this wasn’t the millionth time he’s promised to be better.

to his disappointment, you walked out of his life that night, asking him to only find you when he grew up.

he was determined to make the money back, nam-gyu had no hesitation when calling the number on the card.

-

seeing thanos’ face on the big screen in the unfamiliar room brought a bitter taste in your mouth. you felt bad, seeing as he had the talent but like your ex he succumbed to the high instead.

your ex. that fucking moron. that piece of shit doesn’t even know you’re carrying his damn kid.

a week after you walked out of his life, you guys met up one time to exchange clothes and what not but one thing lead to another and here you were in hospital debt. finding a stable job was hard, especially when you worked as a bartender most of your adult life.

the stress was eating you alive, renting the nice place you had was not cheap and the nice landlord could only be nice for so long because you had to start paying more.

the past few months have been rough and you really wish you had the support of your ex even if he wasn’t the greatest, he was yours and that’s all that really mattered.

standing in line to sign the consent forms made you nauseous, afraid of what’s to come. as you’re walking back to your bed, you get stopped by a hand on your shoulder,

“yn?”

you feel your heartbeat quicken as you turn around and look at your ex boyfriend.

��why are you here?” his hand is still on your shoulder, slightly moving up and down your arm.

he always had a thing for keeping a hand on you, he said it grounded him.

“the same reason everyone is, debt.”

the expression on his face makes your chest ache, he looks so concerned that it makes you a wee bit mad, “what debt are you in? you’ve always been financially responsible!”

he was right, out of you two you made the smarter choices. it dawned on you that you had yet to tell him you’re pregnant with his kid.

“yn? what happened? did someone scam you? i know some people that could find them.” his tone deepening as he becomes more serious, “no! it’s not like that. it’s complicated..”

the worry in your voice makes his eyes fill with worry, “baby, you can tell me.” the name makes you push away from him but the distance is immediately gone as he closes it, pulling your hands into his own. you can’t look him in the eye, scared he’s going to be mad at you.

you’re going to keep it no matter what but the thought of him hating you and your kid makes your heart crack.

the swirled hormones make everything seem so much more intense, tears start to fill your eyes which makes his widen. his hands, ever so warm, hold your face and tilt it so you’re looking at him.

“what’s wrong, i’m here ba-“

“i’m pregnant, nam-gyu.” he pulls his hands off of your face like he was burned, an expression of hurt and anger swirls in his eyes,

“who’s the father?” you look at him like he’s stupid, which only makes him more upset. “why are you looking at me like that?”

does he seriously think i got with someone else?

nam-gyu is distraught, the thought of you no longer being in love with him makes him sick. the fact that you’re carrying someone else’s child makes any will to live disappear. suddenly he doesn’t care that he owes money to anyone, there’s no chance to get you back. “does he treat you well? are you happier?”

“i’m not seeing anyone new, nam-gyu.”

“you shouldn’t be playing games if you’re pregnant. you could hurt yourself or the baby.”

despite his own lack of rationality when making choices, he was always so careful with you.

you threw any rationality you had and spit out the truth,

“it’s yours.”

now he was looking at you like you were stupid, “what?”

“the baby. it’s yours. you’re the father. i’m carrying your child.” he blinks at you slowly, taking in the information you just dropped on him,

“it’s.. you’re carrying.. our baby?” nodding your head, you step forward and take his hand and guide it to your stomach.

“after we broke up, i started to feel sick so i took a test. i didn’t know what to do, i couldn’t find a good job near my place, moving is too expensive, i was afraid to reach out to you. i owe the hospital so much because i’m paying by month but i ran out of savings and then this guy came up to me and gave me a card to make money.”

by the end of your ramble, nam-gyu pulled you in for a tight hug, smoothing your back with his hand. softly, he coos into your hair, “i would’ve never denied you. had you called, we could’ve figured this shit out together.”

you argued back, “how was i supposed to know that? you promised me over and over again but nothing changed!”

despite missing the warmth, you again create a distance by pushing him away from you, although it’s no use given how he holds your arms but he still keeps the distance out of respect for you.

“i have changed! i’m here, i’m going to win that money and i’ll take care of you.” his eyes plead, the hands that hold you start to shake.

“you’ll win it? alone?” the logic hits him and he laughs at his own idiocy, “we’ll win, i’ll make sure we both get out of here. we can put the money together. it’ll be more than enough for us to start over!”

you’re skeptical, sure the chance of winning is there but.. is your trust in him still there?

“if we win-“

his hands move from your arms to your stomach, “when baby, when we win-“

your eyes roll at his optimism, “if and when we win, you need to quit drugs. cold turkey. no excuses, no more second chances. if you so much as look at a drug, i will kill you and raise this kid alone, do you understand me?”

he mocks a soldier, hand to his head and stance straight, “yes ma’am!” the pose barely lasts as he starts to giggle, following you to your bed while holding onto your hand.

there was more to come, you had a feeling that much money wouldn’t come so easy, but things felt just a tad easier with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[buecketsnbueckets]

face to face | P.B

summary: you and paige have been nonstop texting since that day she messaged you. a friendship is forming so what better thing for friendship than to invite her to stay with you for a weekend in LA?

pairing: actress!reader x paige bueckers

contains: tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of tension, THEYRE MEETING!!!

a/n: here’s part 2 of actress reader and paige. things are getting serious!! my inbox is open for more oneshot ideas <3 we’re gonna ignore how long this took me to write!

Interviews had died down now that you weren’t in any projects coming up. Yeah, you had a few more red carpets but there was nothing else for you to promote so you were pretty bored.

Your and Paige’s relationship was feverishly growing within the past two weeks. You were texting one another almost everyday and now that college was out for the summer, you brought up an idea to Rachel while you were relaxing as a little girls night with face masks and drinks.

“Do you think I should invite Paige to stay here for a few days?” You brought up as you took a sip of your homemade mixture of vodka and apple juice.

Rachel sat upright from your oh-so-soft comforter, her sheet mask nearly falling off of her face from the sudden rush.

“Like stay here at your apartment?” She questions, smoothing down the sheet back onto her face as she speaks.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want her to stay at some dingy hotel.”

Rachel hums in thought as she tries to think of a few reasons why it could be a bad idea but her mind blanked.

“You know what? Yeah. I say go for it. I want to meet this girl.” Rachel encourages as she motions to your phone that was charging on the bedside table.

As you scramble to text her, you pause your movements before turning to Rachel with a worried expression.

“Wait, what if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a weirdo because I’m inviting her to stay at my place after knowing her for almost 3 weeks?”

Rachel let out an exasperated sigh at your doubting thoughts.

“Don’t piss me off. Text that girl right now so you can plan it out.”

Before you knew it, you were driving home from the airport with Paige in your passenger's seat. You made small talk throughout the drive, warming up to each other’s personalities and presence.

“Here is my place. You can just set your stuff in my room.” You explain to Paige as you open the front door, allowing her to step in.

Her ponytail swung to the side as she looked around the space, whistling lowly at how large it was. You flush at her reaction and shake your head as you shut the door, locking it behind you.

“You got a nice place. Hollywood treats you nice,” the blonde teases your slight luxury apartment.

You motion to your bedroom with an eye roll. “Go and put your stuff down so we can get started on those pizza’s, Bueckets.”

She chuckled at your words as her tongue prods at her inner cheek and walks over to your bedroom, setting them by the closet door. You and Paige decided to make these flower margherita pizza for her first night. It was just three days you were getting her here in LA and you were saving sightseeing for tomorrow. Plus, you wanted to get to know her in person, not over the internet.

You don’t really know what you’re expecting from this weekend but you were more than excited. Once you have given Paige a mini tour of your apartment, you turn to her with a beaming grin, practically bouncing on the balls on your feet. It was evening now, a soft orange hue flowing through your tall windows as you played Spotify on the TV in your living room. Reluctantly, you allowed Paige to be in charge of that for the night.

She was the guest after all.

“So, I heard you like Shirley Temples so,” you motion for her to follow you to your kitchen, grabbing onto the cool handle of the refrigerator and tugging it open to peek into it. “I made you a pitcher of it.”

Paige’s jaw drops at the sight of the large glass of her favorite drink, running a hand over her mouth as she glances at you in shock.

“Nah, no way you did this,” she shakes her head in amusement as she reaches for it.

“I did, I did,” you nod with a proud grin, shrugging your shoulders. “I thought it would go well with our pizza’s.”

Paige thanks you with an absolutely giddy smile as she just drinks it straight out of the pitcher. You honestly didn't mind as you weren’t the biggest Shirley Temple fan. You giggle as you whip out your phone from your back pocket to take photos of her.

You had to pry it from her fingers as your hunger was taking over. To your surprise, the dynamic between the two of you was if you were childhood friends reconnecting after not seeing each other for ages. After you set down the pitcher, you pull out the dough from the freezer and the rest of the necessary ingredients needed; the sauce, cheese and basil leaves.

As you place the round pieces of mozzarella in the flower shape, you glance at Paige’s focused expression as she does the same. You purse your lips to hide how overwhelmingly ecstatic you were to have her here.

“So, how are you dealing with this,” you motion with a piece in your hand as you spoke, trying to find the right words, “attention you’re getting?”

Paige hums in thought as she looks to you as if it would help her explain it better.

“I mean, I don’t know. At first, it was so weird like people just know who I am and what I do. Most people are nice though. Respectful and considerate. I appreciate that,” she tells you slowly, her smile growing. “I mean, I definitely don’t think I would’ve met you without it so that’s a big plus.”

“Corny,” you tease as you shake your head. “But no, I get it. It can be overwhelming sometimes. I know how it feels. If you ever, you know, need someone to talk to about it, you have my number for a reason.”

Paige’s eyes round at your offer, nodding to herself as she takes your words in with consideration.

“Thank you,” she licks her lips before dusting off her hands as she finishes her side of the pizza. “I think we’re done, yeah?”

You nod in agreement, feeling a bit accomplished with the pizza. It looked almost exactly like the photo reference you had gotten from Pinterest.

“Wait, hold on,” you take a quick photo of the pizza and then motion for Paige to stand next to it.

She does so with glee, grinning and staring at you from behind your phone. You make it her profile picture with a shit-eating grin on your face and jerk your head to the preheated oven.

“Alright now we’re good. It says to leave it in for 10-15 so we’ll check on it then.” You instruct the blonde to place it in the middle.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige mutters to herself as she does as she’s told.

You stare at her bent down figure and shake your head as if it would be rid of the heat flooding your cheeks. She’s just being respectful and you were flustered like a schoolgirl with a crush.

You thought with your years of hiding these feelings you would succeed at some point.

Thankfully, Paige was too focused on not burning her arms to see your expression.

“So what do you have planned for me this weekend?” Paige questioned as she folded her arms and stood back up to face you.

“Well, I think we could visit all of the Walk of Fame, go to In and Out, maybe go to Santa Monica beach at sunset, very L.A things, you know?” You explain to the blonde with a giddy grin.

Paige nods along with your brief explanation of what you had mentally prepped with your new… friend? Yeah, she was a friend.

What else would she be?

“Damn, I was hoping to get a BBL or something,” she sighs in faux disappointment.

“Oh, next time, for sure,” you pat your shoulder to console her, chuckling at her words.

Paige whistles as she slightly leans closer to you. “Are you sugar-mommying me with your Hollywood money?”

You roll your eyes at her words but can’t help the smile itching at your lips as you point to her pitcher of Shirley temple and then to her pink lips.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Paige raises her hands up before taking the pitcher into her larger palms once again.

The two of you continue to talk all night as you feast on the rather delicious pizza. You wouldn’t dare utter the words yet but your crush was swelling on the blonde. Sure, yes, you had the two of you get along, which you did, but you were hoping that she would expose that she had a secret girlfriend or something.

Nope: free as a bird.

You pushed the creeping feelings back into the depths of your brain throughout the weekend as you didn’t want to center your feelings but her time here in L.A. With her, you weren’t really focused on whether or not you had to be insanely picture perfect every time you took a step outside or avoiding certain places due to paparazzi; you could enjoy every moment with her without second-guessing.

It was… peaceful. A breath of fresh air.

She even met Rachel when the girl had ‘coincidentally’ showed up at a coffee shop you two were at on Sunday. You knew she had your location so you weirdly weren’t shocked at all by this. The two thankfully got along. Rachel didn’t miss an opportunity to raise her brows at you, nodding in approval of the basketball player when she excused herself to the bathroom at some point.

“She’s hotter in person, dude. Good for you,” she whispers with a bubbly grin.

“I hate you,” you sigh but internally agree.

She was just irritatingly perfect in every way.

Fuck.

yourusername my weekend! 😝

tagged: @paigebueckers

view all comments

paigebueckers | I had fun I guess 🤣

↳ yourusername | never come back 💜

comment liked by paigebueckers

rachelzegler | i think i’m still blinded by the red lights 😵‍💫

↳ yourusername | shine some blue light to even it out 😇

randomuser | Not Paige hounding a whole pitcher of Shirley Temple😭😭

comment liked by author

↳ yourusername | JUST GREEDY🙄

↳ paigebueckers | You made it for me 💔

randomuser | this feels like a hard launch goodbye.

randomuser | NOBDOY MOVE?!&!-!&!1&2!

kamoreaarnold | Okay LA girl!!!😝😝

↳ yourusername | i fear she’s changed

↳ paigebuckers | Nah I’m still me 😎

↳ yourusername | alr cornball

comment liked by paigebueckers

randomuser | why is no one talking about how they literally had never interacted until almost a month ago and now they’re HANGING OUT??

randomuser | WE DID THIS GUYS!!!!

comment liked by rachelzegler

randomuser | RACHEL…..

williamskayla_ | Now i’m jealous! That pizza looks good 😔

↳ yourusername | i told paige to bring everyone next time 😩

TAG-LIST: @jnkbueckers @ch-3-rry @sayurireidotcom @numberonepartyanth3m @ddeonmixx @simp4women08

[lacyscabinet]

reader and ellie williams dating and reader meeting joel for the first time

A/N: HELLO THERE! This is not my best work but stilllllll I wanted to post something, not proofread<3 I'm a little late sorry😞 this was supposed to come out yesterday but I fell asleep on my desk and forgot to press post😭😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 begging on my knees for forgiveness, I hope you enjoy<3

NAVIGATION

VERY SHORT. MORE LIKE A BLURB.

TW: DAD JOKES.

MEETING JOEL

Joel. It's just Joel. Ellie talked about him so much it's almost like you know him already, come on, how hard could it possibly-

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, placing a hand on your shoulder while simultaneously cleaning it from the snow that had settled on your jacket as you two stood outside the porch. It's not like she wasn't at least a little nervous as well, she really wanted her two worlds to blend, and she wasn't completely sure about what Joel's reaction would be, after all, she has never brought someone like you around him before.

"Yes..." You look up at her and smile gently, trying to be brave about this "All good, should we...knock?"

Ellie nods as she keeps her arm around your waist as she walks up the porch, then her bruised and cold knuckles bump against the worn down wooden door, patiently waiting for someone to open it.

Soon enough, a bearded man cracked the door open, a smile plastered on his face as he welcomed you guys into his home. The house was warm, a record muffled by the sound of the crackling fireplace played on his old record player, the dinner table was all ready to sit down and eat whatever he had cooked, and considering the warm scent that floated through the house, it must've been something tasty. He hugs Ellie once he closes the door, and then turns back to you.

"Finally putting a face to the name!" He says, his voice doesn't sound judgmental at all and he introduces himself right after, extending his hand to shake yours.

All throughout, you can feel Ellie's eyes on you, she's probably smiling, watching you two interact and praying that everything will go the right way. Ellie knows he’s been through enough with the world falling apart, and letting someone new into his circle isn’t easy, but so far, everything was going amazingly.

Just as predicted, dinner was amazing: Ellie sat right next to you while Joel stood in front of you, asking questions about you, about your relationship with Ellie. She subtly checks in with you, just a glance, or a quick touch of your hand to reassure you that she’s there. Her thumb runs over your knuckles, soft and comforting, as if to say: “I’ve got this.” You’re still a little nervous meeting Joel, but the feeling of Ellie beside you is grounding, and he has been nothing but kid with you so far. Everything was flowing seamlessly, until...

"Hey girls, listen" he said all of a sudden as he stabbed a carrot with his fork. Ellie looked up at him curiously, her hand resting on your thigh under the table.

"Do you guys want to know my favorite animal?"

Both you and Ellie looked at each other, extremely confused. Lightly chuckling at your reaction, he continued "Before the outbreak, I remember really liking axolotls..."

At that, your and Ellie's confusion only grew wider, while on the other hand, he started grinning, and that's when Ellie realized.

A dad joke was on the way.

"I used to really like them because they were quiet animals, they didn't axolotl questions"

A moment of silence followed as you took in the joke, bursting out laughing a few seconds later, not really because the joke was funny, but more because of the proud smile on his face and Ellie's maroon flushed face.

“You’re gonna scare her off if you keep making jokes like that.” she mumbled as her hands came up to hide her face.

Maybe, in the end, this wasn't as intimidating as it seemed...

Tags!! @livvietalks (another person asked me to be tagged but for some reason it doesn't work 😭) + @autisticintr0vert :)!!! thank u for the support pookies! In case I post something else tonight I'll tag u over there too!!

I've never thought about starting a taglist but if anyone is interested let me know in the comment section! I also write for yellowjackets and (soon!! trust!!!) for arcane 🤍

[aperrywilliams]

Satellite Call. Part I: What You Kept Hiden from Me (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Words count for this part: 3.2k

Series summary: Your world crushes when Spencer is arrested. Between finding a way to get him out and keeping you afloat, there is something else you need to focus on, too. And even when you thought things couldn’t go worse, a tragedy makes you question if you can make it through.

Part I summary: One of Spencer's trips to Mexico ends badly, and you don't know how to react and what to do.

Series warnings: ANGST (with CAPS). 18+ (MDNI). Some heavy topics will be discussed and shown here. Prison arc, but mostly from Reader's perspective and Emily’s. More detailed under the cut.

Spencer lies to his wife. Drug consumption (against their will). Pregnancy symptoms. Spencer is in jail for more than three months. Hospital visits, doctor’s info dumping (not accurate). Alcohol consumption. Arguing. Strong language. A lot of crying. Emotional breakdowns. A car crash happens (as in the CM storyline). Character dies. More hospital things. Miscarriage. More angst. Depressing symptoms. Mourning. Self-doubt. Suicidal ideation, and almost consummated. Emily is everyone’s emotional support.

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

Spencer thought you would be outside the correctional, just as Penelope is now, waiting for him. But you are not. He either didn't ask JJ why you weren't with her picking him up from inside in the first place. Spencer just assumed you didn't want to be in there, and he understood your reasons. You stopped visiting him because it was hard to see him locked up like that and not do anything about it. Or at least it was what you said to him in a letter Emily handed him during a visit time when you didn't show up. It was a month ago.

After a tight hug with Penelope, Spencer couldn't help but ask.

"Where is she?"

JJ, Luke, and Garcia exchange a troubled look, something Spencer sure does notice. When he sees Garcia's glassy eyes, his gaze settles on JJ and Luke for answers.

"Spence, she—" JJ doesn't know how to express a fact she knows will break her friend.

"Man, she - we should go to the hospital right now." Luke chooses to point out what to do instead of why.

"What?! Why? What happened?!" A frantic Spencer starts to question. What the hell had happened to you? Why are you in a hospital? There are too many questions in his brain right now.

With a hand on his shoulder, Luke gently propels him to start walking to the car.

"We are going to tell you everything, I swear. But let's go to the car, okay?" This time, it's JJ's turn to speak, trying to make Spencer move.

Spencer hasn't felt so confused and afraid even in the four months of being locked up in jail.

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Five months ago

Exhausted. It's the definition of how you feel after the draining case you just ended in Tampa. The jet is quiet enough to assume everyone is sleeping. But although the evident tiredness consumes your body and brain, you can't bring yourself to sleep. Instead, you look at your front, where your husband is reading a book. His eyes look heavy, but you know he can't sleep either, not before decompressing first. And for that, a good book tends to work most of the time.

It's amazing how you can love someone so much. After two years of marriage and a couple of years as coworkers and friends before that, it isn't easy to think of Spencer as anything less than your soulmate and the love of your life.

You are lost in your thoughts, and you don't notice Spencer's eyes on you, a lazy smile on his face.

"Where did that pretty little head go?"

You don't know if the blush on your cheeks is from being caught or from Spencer's loving tone. Maybe both.

"Nowhere in particular. Just wondering."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-mm."

"Care to share?" Spencer asks with curious eyes.

"Well," you start, smiling at him. "Since you brought it up and knowing we have two days off, what about a getaway out of the city, huh?"

It's not a sudden idea. You and Spencer have been thinking about doing something like that for a few weeks. After a chaotic couple of months at the BAU, you both need time for yourself.

Spencer's eyes softened—a little pout on his lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I promised my mom's doctor I would be in Houston tomorrow."

You don't remember Spencer telling you that. Could it be that you had forgotten?

"Oh. I didn't know. Something happened to Diana?"

Spencer shakes his head.

"No. Just the usual. The doctors are adjusting the treatment, and we're doing a follow-up, that's all."

Another source of stress for Spencer in the past months has been Diana's health. After an important decline, he got her mom into an experimental treatment in Houston. Spencer fought hard to get her admitted, and even if you weren't sure about it, you supported him in everything related to it. That's why you won't even protest losing another chance to spend time together.

"I'm sorry," Spencer apologizes when he sees you haven't said anything. Reaching for your hand, you hold it and squeeze it reassuringly.

"It's okay, Spence. You must be there. And maybe it's a good chance for me to have a long beauty sleep," you shrug. In all honesty, your body has been yelling for uninterrupted sleeping hours in the past weeks.

"I promise we'll make up for the lost time when I come back, okay?" Spencer offers, kissing your hand. You nod and give him a soothing smile.

Some weeks later, the loud ringing of your phone wakes you from your sleep. Not fully conscious of your surroundings, you pat to the right side of the bed, expecting to feel Spencer next to you, but it's empty. Then you remember you are alone because Spencer had to go to Houston again this week.

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?" A confused Emily asks at the other end of the call. You check your bedside clock, and it reads 11 AM. You have been sleeping for twelve hours now.

"Yeah," you rub your tired eyes. I think I caught something. My stomach feels funny, and I was so exhausted last night. What is it? Do we have a case?"

"No, but- Have you heard from Spencer?" Emily asks cautiously.

"He called last night and told me he would come back today." There is a tense silence between you both. "Emily, what's wrong?" you ask.

"You should come to the BAU." It's all she says, and you know something bad happened.

Everything has been a blur since Emily's call and your arrival at the BAU.

As you bolt into your boss's office, you see her, David, and Penelope there, a troubled expression on their faces.

Emily is who delivers the news. Spencer has been arrested in Mexico after a car chase and caught with drugs in the trunk.

It's like she is telling you a movie plot. There is no chance she is talking about Spencer, your husband. No, it can't be. Your husband left two days ago for Houston to check on his mom, as he has been doing in the past month.

But as much as you want to deny what you are hearing, Spencer's mugshot, appearing on Garcia's screen, is screaming the truth.

You think you might throw up. And you do. Quickly excusing yourself, you run to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach.

It's the same Emily Prentiss who enters the bathroom after you and holds your hair as you keep kneeling before the toilet.

"We are going to bring him back. I swear. Everything is going to be okay," Emily assures you, rubbing your back.

You want to believe her, but not knowing why this is happening makes it hard to think clearly.

You insist on going to Matamoros with Luke and Rossi, and no one dares to protest. You're visibly upset and confused, but staying in Quantico is not an option.

On the plane, Emily sits in front of you. You know why.

"I swear I didn't know anything, Em. I'm as confused as everyone," you confess. "And it's killing me. I know Spencer never would do what they say he did, but either I can explain why he was there."

"I know, but you must have caught something. Has Spencer seemed nervous or extremely quiet lately? Maybe a phone call or something that made him change his mood."

You think for a moment. Spencer has indeed been more pensive in recent weeks, particularly since Diana joined the new treatment. It's also true he's told you less and less about how things are going with her. But you assume it's because he's been worried about everything going well and not because something bad was happening.

A memory suddenly appears in your mind. One night after arriving from the BAU, you were making something to eat, and Spencer left his phone on the counter while he took a shower. You looked at the device, thinking it might be from work, but the name 'Dr. Medina' appeared on the screen. You didn't recognize the name because, according to what Spencer had told you, her mom's new doctor was Dr. Hammond.

"After he checked his phone, he quickly called back, but he went to the bedroom to make the call. I didn't pay enough attention. I should have done—" You trail off, and Emily rubs your arm to comfort you.

"Hey, don't. We don't know if that has to do with what's going on, so let's not get ahead of ourselves."

It's easy to say but almost impossible to achieve, especially when, upon arriving at the Matamoros police station, in one of the cells, you see your husband lying on a bench with his eyes lost in the ceiling.

"Spencer?" you mumble, but loud enough to catch Spencer's attention. He sits and looks at you with eyebrows furrowed as if trying to remember who you are. Some feet behind you, Emily, Luke, and Rossi stand, witnessing your interaction.

Without saying anything, Spencer gets up and walks over to where you are, only separated by his cell bars. With that closeness, you can see the several cuts all over your husband's face; his clothes are torn. But what shocks you are Spencer's red and lost eyes. He is visibly high.

"Do you know who I am?" you ask almost in a whisper, scared of his answer. Spencer nods slowly, his eyes shifting from lost to sad. He recognizes you.

"I'm sorry." It's not much, but you can't hold it against him right now, not when answers are required in the first place.

"Baby, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here, okay? But you need to talk to us. Can you do that?"

It's not until a couple of hours later Spencer fully returns to himself, the effects of the drugs leaving his body.

For the sake of the case, you stay out of it while Spencer tells the team what happened. You don’t want Spencer to feel uncomfortable admitting he has lied to you for weeks.

After Emily conducts a cognitive interview to get details that could help, Spencer returns to his cell. When Emily, Luke, and Rossi leave the police station to search for evidence, only you are left there with him.

Spencer looks embarrassed, and you can feel the gears in his head turning as he tries to find a way to talk to you. When he comes empty of words, he addresses you instead.

"Can you please say something?" His voice is tentative and pained.

"I don't know what you want me to say," you reply honestly.

Spencer sighs deeply. "Tell me whatever you're thinking now. Yell at me, tell me I'm a fucking liar, that I dragged you into this mess, tell me I'm a terrible husband."

You consider his words for a moment. Is it true everything Spencer says is what you're thinking? It probably is, but you don't feel like you have the energy to bring it out the way he wants. However, there is one underlying question that has been on your mind since all this started.

"Why? Why you kept it from me? You don't trust me enough to tell me those things?"

"No, don't say that. I do trust you," Spencer rushes to say, but he knows it's a weak defense considering the circumstances.

"Then I don't get it. Why, Spencer?" Your tone isn't accusatory but sad. You could have helped him if you had known. But he, for some reason, decided against it.

"I was trying to protect you," he says and shakes his head. "I know it sounds stupid now we are here, but it's true. I didn't want you to worry about my mom's situation. I'm so sorry."

Spencer is probably telling the truth, but it doesn't make you feel better. Not seeing him behind bars like this.

The helplessness of not having anticipated this situation and now being unable to do anything to solve it eats you up inside. Despite that, you know Spencer is having it worse. So you, as his partner and who loves him the way you never loved anyone, decide to put your feelings aside to be his support at this difficult moment.

"It's okay," you assure him, placing your hands between the bars to hold his. Spencer is quick to respond and grabs onto your hands as if you were a lifeline to him. "We'll figure it out."

Spencer's eyes fill with tears as he repeatedly murmurs, 'Thank you' and 'I love you.'

You have always considered yourself a strong and tenacious woman. Since you were a kid, you have been independent and able to overcome everything that came your way. But adult life has continued to test you, and this has been no exception. When you find out Nadie Ramos has been murdered and all the evidence points to Spencer, you're about to break down. Still, you can't because if you do, who's going to support your husband? You have to be strong. Some reprieve emerges when you learn Ramos is an American citizen and Spencer can be prosecuted on American soil.

Baby steps.

The jet is mostly silent, save for Emily's occasional page-turning or Luke's typing on his phone. Rossi seems to be sleeping. You and Spencer are in one of the back seats. Spencer's head is in your lap while you absentmindedly play with his hair, looking at the night sky out the window.

"You think Scratch is behind this?" Spencer asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. You consider your answer for a couple of seconds.

"I do. I mean, it's such a damn elaborate plan. I can't think of anyone but Scratch."

Spencer assumes a sitting position and examines your face. He knows you are upset. Cupping your cheeks, he looks directly at your eyes.

"I have no words to say how sorry I am. And I promise to make it up to you for the rest of my life when this is over."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. When you open them again, you are met with Spencer's expecting gaze.

"I know you will." And you really think that. "I love you, Spencer. I'm sure we are going to get through this." Your voice trembles with emotion, but your words seal a promise you mean to keep.

"And I love you. So so much. God, I'm so lucky to have you." Spencer's arms envelope you in a tight embrace. You melt into him, breathing his scent. It's the way you usually use to ground yourself. It's hard right now because, once the jet lands in Virginia, Spencer will get snatched from you, for God knows how much time it will take.

When the BAU elevator doors open, you find JJ, Penelope, and Tara waiting for you all. Spencer has his cuffed hands covered with your FBI jacket so as not to attract too much attention. Garcia is the first to rush forward and hug him.

You only have fifteen minutes. Then, the police officers will take him to the station to book him and leave him in a cell.

JJ and Tara hug him, too. You assume they are giving him reassuring words, something you know he needs right now. From your peripheral, you see Emily exchange glances with Stephen and retreating to Emily's office. You can't say what's going on, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you follow them. You know Tara, Penelope, and JJ will keep Spencer occupied for a couple more minutes.

"What? Is the bureau abandoning him?" You hear Emily ask, visibly upset.

"They said Reid traveled with his personal passport and didn't inform the office. That's enough for them to step aside," Stephen explains.

"So we don't have legal support," Emily confirms, and Stephen nods.

You can't help but interrupt the conversation.

"What? Spencer will not have a defense?" Both Emily and Stephen startle and turn to see you. While Stephen gives you an apologetic look, Emily is quick to speak.

"Not provided by the FBI, but it doesn't mean Spencer will be alone in this. We'll find a lawyer for him."

"They do want to bury this, don't they? It's bad publicity, and Spencer will fall for it," you start to complain, your breathing picking up speed.

"Hey! We won't let that happen, do you hear me?" your boss steadies you and makes you look at her with both hands on your shoulders. "But for now, Spencer can't know. Not until we get this figured out."

As in cue, you look through Emily's window and see Spencer still chatting with JJ and Penelope.

"This is a nightmare," you mumble. Emily squeezes your shoulder.

"We're going to solve it, I promise."

You see Spencer looking around with a frown. Penelope and JJ are still talking to him, but Spencer seems to be looking for something, better said, someone: you. Cautiously, you descend the stairs to join him. You know you don’t have much time, and you know you can’t tell him about the lack of a lawyer.

“Hey,” Spencer calls when he finally sees you.

“Sorry, I went to talk to Emily about something real quick while giving you time with the team.” You don’t want to delve into specifics and hope Spencer doesn't ask about it.

“Thank you. Can we talk more privately?”

“Sure.” You both move to a corner with fewer people around. Spencer’s eyes trail every part of your face as he wants to engrave you in his memory. At the lack of words, you frown. “Spencer?”

“I know this isn’t going to be easy. I’m terrified, and not just for me. I’m scared about how this will affect you and us. I just want to say that I love you with all my heart, but I will understand if this becomes too much. You don't owe me anything. Don’t feel obligated-”

“Stop! Stop right there. Don’t even try to finish that sentence,” you rush to cut him off.

“But-”

“No. You are my husband. You are the love of my life. You are the person I chose to share my life with. In thick and thin, remember?” You cup his face so he can look directly at your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Physically, we’ll be apart, but I won’t rest until I get you out, and we'll be together again, okay?”

Spencer’s eyes fill with tears, and so do yours. He leans down to catch your lips with his. He can’t hold you - he’s cuffed - but for now, you can do that work. Lacing your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss, and you can feel your tears mixing.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” Spencer mumbles on your lips.

“I know you will,” you mumble back before kissing him again.

Emily clearing her throat takes you both out of your bubble.

“I’m sorry, guys, but it’s time. Police are here,” she apologetically announces. You look at Spencer, and he nods. It's time. With a last lingering kiss and an ‘I love you,’ he turns and follows Emily down the hall. Spencer doesn't turn around because he knows if he does and looks at you, he won’t be able to leave you there.

You watch him walk away and wonder if this nightmare will end soon. You don't know if you'll have the strength to hold on to him and yourself and if the love you share will be enough to keep the hope of a better tomorrow alive.

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Next part

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[talenlee]

4e: The Pinball Wizard

Back in the heydays of the 4th edition community being a community that all met on a single forum and shared a common lexicon and all that, there were phrases, truisms, slang and tropes we recognised and used to speed our way through conversations. This was true of 3rd edition too, since the community was actually, broadly speaking, the same thing, but that community kind of uprooted itself and moved on to other places, while the 4th edition remnant seems to have not really coalesced in a subsequent form. We don’t really have a 1d4chan or Brilliant Gameologists or deeply intimidating Pathfinder Subreddit as places to scare people off, and instead it’s stuff like…

Well, this blog post might get shared on the subreddit. Hi reddit! I like you even if we don’t agree about Blackguards!

Anyway, thing is, there are things that now have no meaning except their place in 4th edition conversations, and are functionally un-googleable because they’re very generic ways of just using words, or maybe, were named after something else. Back in City of Heroes there was a powerful supergroup known as the Green Machine, that was entirely team-buffing healers that refused to heal, and that’s not a term you can search for meaningfully. Another group that existed and that shares its title with today’s subject was a group of kinetics, where everyone could use powers to make everyone else fire off at super speed, showing you don’t need good powers if you can fire off your best powers every second.

They called themselves the Pinball Wizards, and now, if you go look for what that means in 4th edition D&D you kinda find nothing.

Here’s the story of one of the more distinct power level errata of D&D 4th edition, where in 2011, a single sweeping change to the way the rules worked destroyed a strategy and in the process brought something ridiculous down to merely really good.

This build was a combination of two basic parts, which were well and strictly defined under 4th edition rules. The first is zones. A zone is an effect, made by a power with the ‘zone’ keyword so you knew where to look for it, that looks at that area for some reason. Some zones are used for things like a healing aura, or a space that a character can move around in freely, but very commonly, a zone is used to represent an effect that’s bad that lasts. This can be a bunch of falling shards of glass, a cloud of toxic venom that hovers in a space, or a ground teeming with sharp, jagged vines on thorns.

Zones are extremely cool, make no mistake, and they tend to fall into the toolkit of the Controller. Controllers want to deprive enemies of actions, and zones are a great way to give enemies a bad choice: Stay in an area to do something they want to do, or spend actions getting out of it. Since zones do a good job of representing effects like rings of fire, or clouds of poison, or raining ice, it’s stuff that hits the wizardy feeling of editions past.

The other part of this is forced movement. 4th edition had a family of these effects known by their more specific names of push pull slide, but these are ways to change where enemies are positioned and everyone who complains about fighters in 4th edition is usually complaining about these and they are cowards. These effects show up everywhere, but undeniably, if you’re looking at the people who will do the most of them, you want controllers.

The build that worked out of this was known as the Pinball Wizard. You played a Wizard who used one of a number of long-lasting powers that created a zone that did something dangerous when someone entered it. Then you used your other powers to slide something in and out of that zone over and over again. Wizards got more than a few powers that did slides, and they got access to items and feats that improved their slides. You could use a slide effect to turn two squares of slide movement (and we’re talking like, 4-8 squares for builds that are trying) into like, 40 damage.

At level 2, when tanks are happy to have 40 hit points.

Anyway, you might be thinking the sensible solution is to make it so that these zone powers are limited in how often they can have their effect – and it kinda makes sense, narratively, in the context of the world, right? Like, an enemy or person isn’t going to breathe more if they run back and forth through a poison cloud.

In 2011, Wizards released an update to the compendium that added that rules information to every single damaging zone power in the game, with a note of the when, and an article explaining why they did it. It was a perfectly reasonable rules update made through a digital system they had and realistically speaking, the only thing to mourn is that there’s now no good reason to ever let a player get away with this use of these powers together, because it’s pretty silly.

The system that was left after this change was obviously a better system. It had a clear, specific template that it could use thereafter and while it did lose some edge cases, it was implemented thoroughly and comprehensively in a way 3rd edition almost never managed to execute. This was because of a central control system, the compendium, but it also spoke to a problem that a game normally about disconnecting and engaging with a very material play space was going to have to confront head-on.

Basically: This kind of errata existed in the rules, sure, and if you download a rules compendium, every power that can be changed mentions the 2011 change. But the books don’t. The books still have the rules change and to learn how the game works, you have to know it. Or you have to use a digital compendium, which presents a new problem for a game that is meant to work with paper and dice.

These were inevitable evolutions of technology and they interest me because they kinda present problems and solutions at scale. The actual problem of a wizard stacking a bunch of redundant effects together to kick an enemy through the boundary of their zones as a single incident was not a meaningful problem to a table. If it’s a problem, it’s a problem that has an administrative option to work with – the Dungeonmaster can look at it, and decide it’s too good and talk to the players about it. That problem is solvable almost instantly if everyone in the group and game has a good relationship and respects the DM.

But if you made the game, you don’t have a problem that can be solved on the spot. You have a problem of all the players, in a communal space, who bring it up and ask if it makes sense and consult with one another and now you have the problem that looks like at scale your product has a flaw and you need to address it to make that flaw not look like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, what makes a good game is important here, it isn’t not important.

It is neither a good thing nor a bad thing.

It is a thing that few games get, not really, unless they’re very big, and trying to do a lot. It’s barely something that even the next tier down of games need to care about. Errata happens, people care about making the books better. But most people don’t have a comprehensive central database where they can update all the powers that use a particular wording.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[starwarskawaii]

Annoyance and Empanadas

A Miguel O'Hara fic

Alright, here's that Miguel fic. Dedicated to Lan ( @chaithetics ) for always believing in and encouraging me. Proofread by my husband, @kitsunot . So if I made a mistake, blame him.

A/N: This is self-serving, reader is HEAVILY based on me. No word count because I am lazy.

Edit: possible part 2 if you guys like this one. So make sure to let me know!

CW: disabled reader, possible slightly ooc Miguel, mentions of Miguel's *gestures at his life*, no use of Y/N, second person voice, mentions of mobility aids, disability is not specified but is highly based on my experiences with fibromyalgia, female reader, mentions of brain fog, mentions of safe foods, reader is slightly implied to be autistic, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING

You were annoying. Not annoying like Peter B, who always had a quip and lacked boundaries. Not annoying like Miles, who questioned Miguel constantly. Not even annoying like Hobie, although you were a bit of an anarchist. The first thing you had ever said to Miguel was, "I support women's rights and women's wrongs. I do not, however, support men's rights OR men's wrongs, so I hope you've improved." No, you weren't annoying like any of them. You were annoying like Lyla. You were annoying because you knew him. You knew him entirely too well. Which was quite possibly the worst kind of annoying you could be.

You sauntered in on your purple forearm crutches, thinking of what you could say to piss Miguel off. As much as you'd like to pretend you were a quick thinker, the brain fog made it near impossible to come up with anything on the fly. So as you sauntered in, you thought of what you could do to make those veins pop on his neck and forehead. You liked those veins.

Miguel heard you coming. How could he not? Mobility aids are not stealthy. Not in the least. Miguel knew what was coming, and he braced himself for whatever quip you had up your sleeve. Your quips were worse than a Peter Parker's; you had studied him. You came from a universe Miguel stumbled on accidentally. A world where he and all the other Spiders were just characters in comics and movies. And you happened to be Miguel O'Hara's number one fan (and biggest hater, somehow simultaneously). You had made tons of posts analyzing him on some site, tumbling, maybe? He couldn't remember. He brought you on for a few reasons, but mainly to help the algorithms predict events in the Spider's lives.

"Ohhh, Miiiiiggy!" Came your voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What? I'm a bit busy, you know, " came his reply.

"Too busy for me, Migs?" You pouted and batted your lashes. You knew he couldn't resist that.

Miguel was surprised. No quips yet. That's a first.

"Too busy brooding to listen to your favorite right-hand woman?" There it was. There was the jibe at him. You loved doing that. You were probably worse than Lyla.

Lyla popped up and snickered "He was just brooding, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Migs, my love, would you care to tell me why the caf has no empanadas?"

"Aye, you came here to interrupt my ensuring the fate of the Arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse over an empanda?"

"They're your recipe, we all know they're the best in the multiverse" you reasoned with him.

"They're my mother's recipe, technically, and I'll make you some when I take you home." Miguel always took you home. You had a lot of issues with the stupid 2099 high-tech stuff, and it also required use of at least one hand, something you rarely had the luxury of, unless it was a no mobility aid or a wheelchair day. So Miguel made sure you were safe.

"Fine, fine. When are you taking me home, speaking of? Should I just wait here, or should I try to navigate the awful upside down maze you created while I wait for your self-imposed penance for the day to end?" Man you were annoying. Man you knew him well.

"I'll finish up soon. Wait here," his face softened as he looked over at you. You were making yourself comfortable on a chair, placing your aids to the side and getting into that position you liked to sit in. The one that seemed uncomfortable, but you swore was best for your hypermobile joints.

You reminded him a lot of Lyla. Lyla, who Xina had programmed to heckle him. Lyla, who he never had the heart to reprogram. You knew all his buttons. Just like Lyla. Just like Xina... You were also like Gwen. He had initially seen you as much more like Gwen. You had a baby face, so he had assumed you were younger. You had half-shaved hair, which you had actually gotten done because of some singer in your dimension, the year before Spiderverse came out. You had always loved Gwen Stacy, though. It wasn't hard to see why. You were smart, you liked nerds, you were incredibly confident, you were kind of punk, but also hilariously materialistic, not in a fancy clothes way but in a "I have to have this figure or I will cry" way. You were a lot like the Gwen of 120703. You loved that Gwen.

You were very different from all of them, though. He remembered stumbling upon your dimension by accident. A dimension where there were no heroes. A dimension where there were somehow still supervillains. A dimension where, even when faced with a lack of heroes, some people still had hope. You were one of them. He had initially infantalized you. Your mobility aids, your interests, the baby face, the fact that you clearly needed a caregiver, but stubbornly lived on your own all made him see you as younger than you were. You had had many arguments before he finally realized how capable you are. That you're tougher than most Spiders are, save for Sun Spider, who has EDS (you LOVED Sun Spider). That you deal with 24/7 full body pain, work a full-time job, and somehow manage to take care of yourself.

You had shown him so much. Like punk versions of him that you thought were hot. He hated them. He hated that you found that attractive. It made him question for a moment if his appearance was alright. Of course, you would like piercings and tattoos. You had multiple of each. He never really thought much of it before. You had shown him art of him pregnant. You both hated that one. He had learned so much about you. In a way, he had become the caregiver you needed. He made sure you ate, he popped into your dimension to help with your laundry, he helped you on low mobility days, he cooked for you, he helped you set up appointments and refill meds when your brain just wouldn't cooperate. He admired you. He thought you were incredibly strong. He made you empanadas because they're a safe food for you. He secretly loved the way you loved his cooking.

You cared for him. Really, truly, deeply cared. You had listened to his pain and felt it like it was your own. You were so empathetic. He realized that your disabilities and baby face and your being a few years younger didn't matter at all. You were more mature than he was. You knew pain, you lived with pain, you had lost so much and had dealt with it a long time ago. You helped him pick apart his mind, healing what had been broken by grief. He had spent so many nights sitting on the floor of your apartment, next to your couch, pouring his heart out to you. The girl who had fan art of him up on her walls. He was pretty sure he loved you, but too worried he was confusing gratefulness for that painful emotion he hadn't felt in so long that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. You were in love. How could you not be? He let you see him so vulnerable. He was also 6'9, built like a tank, perfect dark skin and hair, newly emotionally open, and had clearly come to genuinely respect you, in a way you struggled to find as a disabled woman. You were much less subtle about your feelings than he was. You flirted constantly. But he was as dense as his muscles.

"Alright, I'm done, cariño," Miguel said. "Time to go back to your dimension, and get you some food. Did you actually eat today?"

"Uhhhh, what answer do you want to that?" You said, only half joking, with a nervous laugh.

"You'll be the death of me, hermosa"

He was used to the quips. He was used to the forgetting to eat. He was used to it all, and he hoped it could stay that way. Miguel O'Hara loved how you annoyed him. And he hoped you would continue to, for at least as long as Lyla has.

[pita-vegeta]

What if the entire time Olrox and Alucard were working together?

Sorry if this sounds like a jumbled mess I wrote this at 4am😅

Even though the first time we see Olrox at the beginning of the series it is as a villain for his fight with Julia Belmont it is later that consensus changes, we understand his reasonings for killing Julia just as we understand Dracula's reaction after his wife Lisa was killed the only difference is Dracula brought war on humankind and eventually had to be stopped.

Olrox just dealt with the one who killed his lover; if he was truly a villain he would have killed Richter that same day but because his problem wasn't with this child he didn't, just told him if he wanted revenge Olrox would understand and still even throughout the series Olrox has no issue with Richter, he's not even on his radar.

But here's the reasons why I believe Olrox and Alucard were working together.

Alucard couldn't just show up in Machecoul, he's still well known enough amongst vampires that his very presence would be a threat to Erzsebet and Drolta's plans, but Olrox though a vampire of standing is it not well enough known to know his connections.

With his ability to become a shadow he is able infiltrate places Alucard couldn't.

Olrox is always watching, keeping behind the scenes, gathering information on what Erzsebet, Drolta and the Abbott are planning. This may not just be for his benefit but for a bigger plan. His first question to Mizrak is about the night creatures.

He even assists the Belmont crew with giving them information (the book and tells them about the machine) they need. Then when things hit there peak, (Erzsebet transforming and Drolta going after the Belmont crew) Alucard shows up already in the know of what has transpired.

Alucard also knows about Olrox and Mizrak, something that is hidden from everyone else and I believe he would have learned from Olrox, Alucard understands the only reason Olrox showed up in that fight was for Mizrak.

This line in the series we see that Olrox and Alucard knew each other before and it wasn't a negative interaction.

So Alucard may have asked Olrox to help him.

[rouge-fauna]

Some ironic/idiotic points I’ve seen way too many people say:

Tommy and Dream should have worked things out privately

How? Did you miss the part that Tommy literally blocked Dream on everything and refused to talk to Dream? How is he meant to handle it privately? Besides I’m pretty sure Tubbo in his first stream is the one that brought up things like the messages to Tommy’s mom in the first place, so if anything Tubbo is the one who brought up things to the public and made things bigger than they needed to be. Remember, his hour long stream about the meme and reasons why he dislikes Dream and how this is Dream’s “death by a thousand cuts” came first before Dream’s first stream where he reacted to parts of Tubbo’s stream.

Dream takes no accountability

He apologized for something he’s not even done, he literally took down the meme, admitted it was a bad thing to do, apologized multiple times for it, apologized for not doing a proper apology the first time and explained his reasoning. That’s literally the definition of taking accountability. Like what more do you want? Want him to beg on his knees for the internet (who called him every slur in the book) to forgive him? He made a mistake, we all do, he apologized, let’s move on, because there are parties in this drama who haven’t taken accountability or apologized so maybe we should be focused on that.

Dream and Dream Team are sexist and misogynists

Says the people who formed a nation on a role play server called L’MANberg because it didn’t allow woman (or non-Europeans). Says the guy who I get frustrated to watch because of all his sexists and inappropriate jokes (I still don’t understand how the majority of his fans are woman like heh?). Says the people who when asked why they think this only bring up recent public examples, despite a - they have always been sexists behind the scenes implication, all but one of which are bogus anyways.

Well they didn’t handle the Caiti situation properly.

What do you mean? They all responded, I’m pretty sure apologized and owned up and took Caiti’s side and made sure to tell their fandom to not go after her. Meanwhile, you think Dream should have brought her up, when she has specifically asked to not be talked about anymore. Pretty sure if he never responded he’d be bashed for not taking accountability and if he did mention her in the recent video then he’d be bashed for not respecting her wishes.

Dream’s neurodivergence (Autism and ADHD) is not important here why is it being used as an excuse.

It ain’t. I don’t think I’ve seen a single person excuse his behavior or whatever, in fact the same people pointing out the autism piece are also mostly the same neurodivergent people who are the ones upset by the use of the word. But this all blew up with the r word which Dream was told by people using it against him that it can be used by someone who’s autistic. So from the get go it’s kinda important. Then you look at the pieces, at the comments people make about Dream being weird or doing things that are socially unacceptable, is inappropriate, ridiculous…etc and then you get to a 3 hour stream of talking in circles as they can’t seem to understand eachother or at least Tubbo not understanding Dream, which afterwards Tubbo labels his Audhd way of communicating as manipulative. So yea I’d say autism, adhd and neurodivergence are pretty damn relevant and important.

Just ahhhhhsbhfnnabdnnand… I still see people condemning him for the damn r word and it’s like bruh… move on. We are way past that damn meme he apologized multiple times for at this point. Especially from the moment Tommy posted his video and weaponized his fandom against Dream. And good god, and if you didn’t watch the streams then don’t be acting like you have this hot take and posting essays and shit because damn, maybe the reason no one’s said that is because it isn’t true, something you’d known if you watched all of the streams!………….. sorry just had to get that off my chest…

[pigeonwhumps]

Bruises

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Whumpuary day 21: bruises | "who are you?" | immortality

After being isolated and treated as a punching bag for far too long, Whumpee runs to the only place they hope they might be able to find safety.

1.7k

CWs: bruises, isolation, team whump, arguments, used as a punching bag, abuse, touch-starved

Whumpee knocks on the small metal door weakly, hand dropping to their side after three small knocks. They stand as upright as possible, hand on the wall to help, arm trembling under the weight, and hope it's enough.

The door opens after what feels like both a minute and an eternity, and Caretaker's there, seemingly unchanged after all this time in her ink-covered dungarees, hair braided and pulled back. She blinks at them, at their bruises and blood, at the patched drawstring bag over one shoulder and their scruffy, dirty clothes and shoes. They blink back, almost too tired to be embarrassed. Almost. How much of a mess must they look in her eyes?

"Whumpee?"

"You said once," they croak, "that if I needed someplace to crash then I could, no questions asked. Does that offer still stand?"

A million emotions flash through Caretaker's eyes at once, and Whumpee can't hope to make out what they are. Then she nods and steps aside.

"Honestly I was more thinking at home, it's more comfortable there, but sure. I have an armchair and snacks. Come on in."

Whumpee ducks their head and limps inside. They'd be happy naked on a cold metal floor so long as Whumper's not there. And she's not, would never be, because the whole reason Caretaker made the offer in the first place was because she didn't trust Whumper, didn't like her. It was why they fought.

She has every reason to say 'I told you so' and probably just as many ways to realise that, but she's not.

Caretaker's studio is nice. The old warehouse it's a part of isn't disguised entirely, old pipes and brickwork visible. Her rented space contains a sewing machine, cutting mat, screen printing press, inks and fabrics and threads of all colours and types, everything Whumpee would expect to see here, had they ever bothered to visit. They clutch the corded handle of their bag tightly. It's their most treasured possession, and this is where it's from.

Caretaker waves a hand in the direction of the armchair. "Get comfy. There's the sink if you need it, and the toilet's at the end of the hall. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Whumpee nods gratefully, waiting until Caretaker's left again before cleaning their hands and face, changing into fleecy pyjamas and curling up on the armchair, Teddy in hand. They avoid looking at themself while they do all of this, their appearance not something they want to dwell on. They must be making the furniture dirty, surely, but Caretaker told them to sit so she can't mind too much.

That makes a change. A change from being somewhere where they apparently matter less than everyone else, everything else, where they're so easy to dismiss that–

They swallow a sob, swallow it right down, keeping their emotions clenched tight inside. Caretaker doesn't need to see this, especially not when it's all their own stupid, naïve fault. Can't see what's right in front of their face sometimes, she said, and she was right. The bruises and cuts all down one side of their body from the last time they were dragged across the floor are proof of that. Fucking hell.

They close their eyes.

Next thing they know, someone's shaking their shoulder, setting their body throbbing. They snap their eyes open as Caretaker's hand withdraws.

Ow.

"Sorry. You still sleep like the dead. You also look like hell, so I've brought you a cup of tea, a pot noodle and some biscuits. Relax. You don't have to tell me what happened, I meant that, but I have some plasters and stuff if you need them?" Whumpee shakes their head. They're not going to use everything of Caretaker's when they can't even replace it, this is already way too much. "Okay. Well, drink, eat, sleep, whatever you need to do. I'll– I'll be here. This time. Okay?"

"It wasn't your fault last time," Whumpee whispers. They'd walked out on Caretaker, not the other way round.

Caretaker hums non-committally, in that way that means she disagrees but doesn't want to risk starting an argument, and Whumpee sighs, sipping at their tea with shaking hands. Chamomile, their favourite. They don't want an argument either. Everything has already hurt more than enough recently.

They eat half of the pot noodle without taking a breath. Then they force themself to put it down and look up at Caretaker, who has a concerned frown on her face as she works, sketching in her book.

"You were right. She was awful."

Caretaker looks up. "Whumper?"

Whumpee nods. All those awful things they'd yelled at Caretaker, because they were stupid and starstruck and couldn't see what was right in front of them. And they can't even excuse any of it, because she was right, entirely right, and she's just let them right back in like the last thing they saw wasn't her looking so completely crestfallen.

"I'm sorry, Caretaker. I was horrible to you and you just... you're too good." Too good for them, too good for this world.

She smiles bitterly. "I wasn't entirely innocent in that fight. You always act like I'm either one or the other. That fight was awful, on both sides, but we're here now. Water under the bridge. Okay?"

"Okay."

"For the record, I did hope I was wrong."

Whumpee nods and dives into the remainder of their pot noodle. Better eat now, while they can. Caretaker goes back to drawing at her standing desk.

After a while, they take a sip of their tea. "It was okay at first. Good, even. She was my mentor. I did what she said, I learned, I got to socialise with her and the rest of her team. I helped. It felt good. But then she... I don't know when it started but..."

They trail off. They don't know when Whumper started using her as a punching bag. It wasn't immediately, but then the tasks got harder and the punishments got harsher and Whumper got angrier and they were isolated and then there they were, a convenient punching bag and... other things. Worse things.

"I couldn't tell. Who would I tell? How would I tell? She threatened me. Threatened you. But I– I– it hurt so much, Caretaker."

"She's the one who left you like this?"

Whumpee nods. It's not the worst they've been, but they don't say that, not trying to garner unmerited sympathy from Caretaker. It's their own fault.

"I'm glad you got out of there."

"She's not the reason it hurt so much."

Caretaker cocks her head in concern. "Her team?"

Whumpee nods. Stops to take a long drink and sinks into their seat, wrapping their arms around themself. This is a lot to think about.

They don't know why they're talking, but they are, and that means thinking about it. About what happened, about everything. And that hurts. It's embarrassing, too, they should've guessed. Caretaker did.

They thought the team was just oblivious. Now they're not so sure.

"My first complaint... it didn't... I made everything worse even when I chickened out. Whumper knew I was going to, even though I didn't. And then I tried again through proper channels and it... Team Leader... he already knew. He asked me to... I showed him! And I got suspended when I wouldn't withdraw it. And Whumper... she... I was stupid, I stayed, I thought I could survive it, I thought I'd be fine but she... and now I'm just a coward. What if she hurts someone else? Or if she makes good on her threat against you? I thought she couldn't but..."

Caretaker stares for a moment and then grins cockily. "Come on Whumpee, you know what I used to do for a living, I'll be fine."

"Don't. Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Stop acting like it's all fine. It's not, and you don't know that it'll be okay! This isn't an assassination and even if it was you remember how we met! Stop trying to– to– stop lying to me!"

Whumpee takes a deep breath, trying to calm themself. They're not being fair, they know that. She's trying to help. They just– how can she pretend it's all okay when it's so very not?

"Sorry."

Caretaker shakes her head. "I'm sorry. Maybe I'm being a bit flippant. But I will be okay. I'll make sure of it, I promise."

"You'd better."

Whumpee shifts, wincing. Curling up so tight hurts, tugging and pushing at the bruises and burns and cuts, but it's safer. No way to kick your chest in if they can't get to it.

"Are you sure you don't at least want painkillers?"

They shake their head. No drugs. No forced weakness and compliance. No weird hallucinations. No... god knows what. Not today.

"Okay. Try to sleep. If I'm not here when you wake don't panic, I just need to sort some things."

Despite the matter-of-fact soothing layered on top, Whumpee knows that tone of voice, all impending action. And they know what she's planning to do. They look Caretaker directly in the eyes.

"Don't do something you'll regret, Caretaker."

She looks taken aback for a moment at their sudden fierceness but then gives a toothy grin, like a predator that's scented blood.

"Oh, who says I'd regret it?"

"I mean just don't– don't get yourself hurt. She's dangerous."

"I know that. So am I." She must see something in Whumpee's bruised and battered face because she softens, tucking her pencil behind her ear and crossing the room to crouch in front of them. Broadcasting her every move, she presses a soft kiss to their forehead. "It was my job for thirty years. It's just a relief to find someone that I'm happy to use my skills on."

Caretaker rests her hands on their upper arms and they lean into the touch, despite the pain at the pressure. Tears prick at their eyes. This warm closeness without malicious intent... it's been too long.

"If you get yourself captured or killed I will bring you back from the depths of Hell and skin you alive for doing that to me. So don't. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Whumpee glares half-heartedly. "I promise."

[k3nz1ekorn]

Never be Easy

This was beta read by my AMAZING friend @/kalei__co over on Ao3 and I'm thrilled about how it turned out!! Character cheat sheet: Viktor-Vladimir/Vlad, Jayce-Joel, Vi-Viola, Cait-Cathrin/Cat, Mel-Miah, Savannah- Sevika, Sky- Skyler, Powder/Jinx-Piper/Hexa, Ekko-Elijah

Summary: After weeks of avoiding each other, Vlad and Joel are forced to confront their own idiocy. With intervention of course.

Part 5 in the actor au, part 1 below and masterlist pinned on profile!

Vlad hadn’t looked up from his script since he sat down. 

The last few weeks had been tense on set, and that was putting it lightly. Ever since that stupid night at the karaoke bar, Joel had been avoiding him like the plague. It was as if the last months had never happened in the first place. Hell, it was as if they’d never met before. It felt as if he were a stranger in his own body when Joel was around; there were no more fleeting glances, no brushing hands at the snack tables. It was as if he had been yanked out of his existence and thrown into some alternate timeline where he and Joel were strangers.  

He could have cried if he wasn’t so intensely and irrevocably angry about it all. 

It wasn’t as if Vlad hadn’t been trying to get Joel to talk to him. He felt like he’d tried everything under the sun at this point! 

Well, within reason of course. 

He’d asked to run lines. Joel was ‘too busy’. 

He asked to chat over lunch. Joel ‘wasn’t hungry’. 

The worst had been when he’d flat out tried to get Joel’s attention on set last week. The man had not only not spoken to him, but when he’d touched his shoulder he flinched. Flinched! And not a small one, either; it had been one of those full body flinches. As if the mere thought of being touched by Vlad was somehow unthinkable, as if he’d been burnt. And his eyes?

Vlad’s shoulders tensed just a bit more as he thought about the way Joel’s eyes had looked at him that day. 

There was so much behind them that Vlad wasn’t sure he could name all the emotions. He probably couldn’t have even if he tried! He’d seen some the night at the bar; the pain, confusion, and fear. But there was something unfamiliar, something he’d never seen from the other, and gods he wished to never see it again. 

That catches us up pretty well. 

He’d resigned himself to letting it all go. To not try and touch him again, not speak to him, not even look at him if he could help it. He’d give everything and anything to never have to see that look in those beautiful golden eyes again. So he had to give up on his stupid little crush, on this infatuation.

On his love. Because of course Vlad was in love with him.

A gentle chime brought him out of his troubled thoughts, and he shifted to reach for his phone in the side pocket of his chair. He was careful not to jostle anything lest he knock over his carefully balanced cane. 

On his screen was a simple text from Miah. 

‘come by my trailer before you leave, I need advice on a date with Savannah.’ 

It brought a small smile onto Vlad’s otherwise sad face. 

At least his friends’ romantic lives all seemed to be going well. Viola and Cat were about to move in together, Miah and Savannah appeared to be so infatuated with each other that he’d bet they’d end up married a few years from now. He’d even heard the magazines reporting about Piper (Hexa to the media, stage names and all that) and Elijah, two of the show's most promising rising stars, being spotted here and there in neighboring cities. 

They all seemed so happy, so content. 

How he wished for that with Joel. 

He sent a quick reply to Miah, confirming he would come by, but he may not be the best person to ask for advice on the matter. He’d fucked up his own love life enough without even knowing how; he wasn’t going to fuck hers up too by letting her take his half thought out advice.

The bell was heard from the nearby set and his eyes glanced to the familiar setting of ‘Zaun,’ more specifically to the two actors occupying the corners of it. They had just finished filming a fight scene; Joel’s character kills a child and has some major revelations about morality and mortality. A pivotal moment for Jayce, he thought. 

Vlad had been asked to stay behind for the last few scenes, just in case they decided to reshoot a big scene where his character accidentally kills their assistant. He doubts they would reshoot it now, with the sun setting overhead and time ticking far past when filming should have stopped for the day. If they were to redo it, it would have to wait until tomorrow. 

As he looked over the set, gold met Vlad’s vision. He froze, unable to look away as his brain was screaming at him to, unable to even breathe properly. It felt like an eternity, time seeming to stop all together and leave just them. 

It didn’t last, of course; why would it? 

After what was probably not even a full four seconds, the eyes were ripped away from his, and he came back to reality. To the reality that Joel did not care for him, that his affections were not reciprocated, that, in fact, he was seemingly despised by the other man. 

Vlad’s shoulders dropped. Letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, he let his hand wander to grip his cane. He had to go get cleaned up and change before meeting Miah; he was covered in makeup at the moment and had barely any clothing on. 

He slid off his chair and pulled his blanket tighter around him, letting it hang around his shoulders for a minute as he gathered his belongings into his bag. Phone, script, water. Then he was set to go. 

Vlad stopped himself from looking back at the set as he turned to depart, not wanting to see those eyes anymore. His gaze was kept low towards the ground while he walked to the makeup and prosthetics tent. He was dying to get all the rigid collodion and paint off, but most importantly, he was ready to get these god awful contacts out. 

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Vlad approached the area where Miah’s trailer was located; the skies had grown nearly dark by the time he had gotten all his makeup off. His body was stiff and tired, and he just wanted to get this over with so he could go home to his new cat, Rio. 

He’d gotten her pretty recently, although it was more like she’d decided Vlad was her new human. Since the decision was finalized, he found himself a bit more eager to get home again after a long day. Especially recently, and most certainly when his leg and back were acting up as they seemed to be today.

When the trailer came into view, he wasn’t shocked to see his dear friend standing outside of it. However, he was a bit curious as to why she seemed to be waiting so impatiently. Her foot was anxiously tapping on asphalt below them, arms crossed and a tense expression on her usually serene face. 

It was obvious Miah had been waiting for him; why she seemed so worked up about it was a mystery to him, though. 

He brought his hand up in greeting, and as he was about to open his mouth to call out, she seemed to spot him. She all but charged him, taking unusually large steps to get over as fast as she could.

“Vlad, thank god,” Miah started, out of breath, ”I lost my phone like an hour ago. I need to call Savannah! She’s at my apartment, and I need to tell her I’ll be late getting home.” 

A hand was placed on his shoulder as she reached him. She seemed… frantic, dishevelled even. That was even curiouser. Miah was overly meticulous; he couldn’t seem to remember a time she’d lost something even remotely important, least of all lost her cool over misplacing something like this. First time for everything, he guessed, but it did make sense why she was so irate about it. People do tend to be frantic in unfamiliar situations.

“Ah, I suppose you can use mine, then.” Vlad switched his cane to his other hand and shifted to grab his phone from his front pocket, handing it over to her. She took it with her unoccupied hand and mumbled a thanks before sidestepping to gesture over to her trailer.

“I already brought out the ramp before you got here, I have some coffee inside you can sip on while you wait for me, yeah?” 

Vlad gave a smile and let her lead him; with how overstimulating the day had been, it would be heaven to sit down and enjoy some coffee. Miah always seemed to know what he needed before he could ask for it. She was observant, after all, and on the harder days, it was appreciated to a degree he hadn’t yet been able to articulate.

“Coffee at nearly dark? Music to my ears, my dear. Though if you plan to have any, you better make the call quick,” Vlad teased. 

Miah opened the door with a light laugh and gave him an inquisitive smile he couldn’t quite decipher. He held the railing as he made his way up the slope and into the vehicle. He had been facing her as he passed by her, and he only turned to the interior once he was fully inside. 

“After the day I’ve had, I could drink a whole pot--”

All the air left Vlad’s lungs, his shoes turning to lead when golden orbs made contact with a matching pair on the far side of the trailer. The shock of it cut off his words before he could finish his sentence. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. A strangled noise left his mouth before he was able to snap it closed, hand tightening around his cane. He was just barely able to steady himself before he could process the door closing behind him. 

The sound brought him out of his trance, and he made an almost squawk as he tried the knob in vain. He unlocked it from the inside, going to try again but was met with an immovable force on the other side of the door. 

Miah had blocked them in.

“Miah, open the door, this isn’t funny!” 

Vlad’s hand formed a fist as he brought it up from the knob and began to knock from his side of the door. He chanced a look over at Joel, who seemed to be in a similar state of distress further inside the room. The blinds had been pulled up from the bottom and he was leaning over the back of the couch to find the woman in question out the window. 

Joel seemed to find her, judging by the anger that overtook his face, and instantly he was fumbling with the switch on the frame to pull open the slider.

“Ha ha, joke’s over, dude. Move that fucking thing away from the door!” Joel yelled out. “Miah, I'm serious! What even is this? What are you trying to do right now?” 

The frustration was evident in Joel’s voice, and oh boy, could Vlad relate right now. This was ridiculous. He said as much to himself as he also began to move towards the window, grumbling under his breath as he limped over to get a look at the culprit of their current predicament. Another set of eyes stole glances as he made his way over, but he was too distracted to notice this, of course.

As Miah came into his view through the thin screen, Vlad noticed her holding up two phones, one in either hand. He immediately recognized them both; one was his own, the one he’d just given his friend before she locked them in here. The other belonged to the second occupant of the RV. They couldn’t even call for someone to come let them out!

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Vlad leaned his good leg onto the couch to slam his palm over the wall of the trailer, letting out a little grunt at the force of it. Joel’s question from a moment ago rung out in his head then. What exactly was Miah’s end goal here? What was she trying to do, besides absolutely and totally humiliate him in front of the one person on this planet he was totally head over heels for.

“You two need to get it the fuck together.”

What did she just say? 

“It’s been weeks of this absolute bullshit you two have been on, and I cannot keep doing this! None of us can!” Miah continued on with her tirade, arms flying around to accentuate her words. “I’ll be back in a few hours. You have plenty of food and water, and I brought some of your stuff from my place in case you have any kind of pain flare ups, Vlad.” 

She slid both phones into her bag. 

“If there’s an emergency, just bust out the front window; otherwise, please leave my trailer intact.” 

Miah made a move to walk away; however, there was a pause in her movements, and they were all met with a moment of tense silence before she looked back up at them, eyes flicking between the two men. 

“Just talk,” she finally said, her tone exhausted. “Talk about anything, but please figure out where things went wrong, and where they’re going from here, for everyone else’s sake if not your own.”

With that she walked away, actively ignoring the distressed pleas coming from the trailer now behind her. 

Vlad continued to try and call out for a few moments after she disappeared from view, but they both knew it was no use. She was a woman of her word after all, and they would absolutely be stuck here for however many more hours until she decided it was time to free them.

Vlad heard a gruff sigh from beside him, and he let his eyes wander over to the other man, who had sat back against the couch now. 

Joel’s head was leant back against the window with his arm thrown over top of his eyes. With the way his sweater was hugging his arms and chest, Vlad was nearly brought right back to that night. The before of it all, when he had been able to touch and joke with the other freely, when there was no possibility of the other lashing out at him. 

The thought of it now only made Vlad angry, because why exactly was he being punished for this? Why was he being locked up like this after such a tiring day, when he wasn’t even the one with the problem? Why was he being blamed for having his heart ripped out of his chest every waking second of the last two fucking weeks?

Vlad was sure his face betrayed his emotions by now, and he quickly turned to face the opposite direction. Getting off the couch, he moved into the small kitchen across from them to get some coffee. He could feel eyes on his back as he moved, but he actively avoided the little part of his brain telling him to turn around and face the other. He had spent weeks trying to get a word out of this man; he wasn’t about to be the first one to talk between the two of them today. 

He bent down a bit to gather the coffee grounds and filters from where he knew they were stored and felt a twinge in his back. With a pained groan, he gripped onto the counter for extra stability with his free hand, head falling forward and eyes squeezing shut for a moment to collect himself before working up the motivation to try again. 

A hand on his lower back then made him still, feeling his whole body freeze. It made his eyes shoot open, still doubled over, and he felt his breathing stutter ever so slightly.

“You should sit. I’ll get the coffee started.”

Oh…

Oh how he’d missed that voice.

Vlad straightened up just a bit and turned towards the voice, swatting away the arm that had been placed on him. That same anger that he had been trying to quell shot back through him with a terrifying new force, and venom laced his voice as he spoke.

“I do not need your help. I can make a damn pot of coffee on my own.” 

“I know you can,” Joel said, holding his hands up almost in surrender, “but for how much coffee you drink you can never seem to make a decent drip. Let me.” 

The words held an air of familiarity to them, one Vlad would have probably found amusing just a month ago. Now they just left a bitter feeling in his chest, even if he was right. Vlad was horrible at making drip coffee; he always messed it up in one way or another despite how simple the task was. Unfortunately for him, the only person in the world that seemed to know this was the man standing next to him.

Vlad sucked his teeth and let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes, but he turned back to the couch in a silent show of defeat. It was only a short distance to move before he was able to sit down on the semi-comfortable fabric, but he felt those same eyes on him the whole time. He kept his eyes to the floor even as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

“The first words you willingly speak to me in weeks and you insult me? Really?” 

He spoke with a venom he was sure the other had never heard from him before. But you couldn’t blame him here, not really, at least. 

“Well it’s true. You can’t. I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“No, you’ll just completely avoid me, right? Cut yourself off from me in any way you can?” Vlad felt his anger bubbling over, letting his words spew out without an ounce of forethought, but he was hurt. He should be allowed to speak his mind once in a while. “I can’t make a fucking pot of coffee, and all of a sudden, you’re at my side ready to breathe down my neck about it? When you couldn’t even be bothered to return my texts? My calls? I don’t fucking understand you, you know that?”

At that, Joel spun around, that same anger in his eyes that Vlad had been trying to avoid all week he now reveled in. 

“You don’t understand me?” Joel asked in an almost mocking tone.

“NO, Joel, I do not!”

The man in question brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. He was still hiding it. 

Whatever Vlad had done to upset him was still tucked away behind walls and emotions that under any other circumstance, Vlad would have run from. But being here? Being stuck together like this? It all made Vlad realize just how much he genuinely missed every aspect of the other. Even now, when he’s angry and on the brink of yelling, he missed him. That was probably why he allowed himself to keep talking.

“I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much!” Vlad moved to stand up again, but he stumbled. Immediately Joel was there, helping him up. This made him pause, anger diffusing for a moment to let confusion take its place.

Vlad let the other help him to a standing position, keeping his eyes to the floor as he tried to process the change in tone, in position, and got just a bit lost in the second physical contact he’d had with the other in far too long. 

When he was finally at a stable standing position, he took note of how Joel’s hands lingered on him longer than necessary. He cleared his throat a bit, observing the way Joel seemed to jump back, retreating to the other side of the room and the still empty coffee pot, head hung low and gaze locked on the floor.

Now this was curious. Two touches in the span of maybe a few minutes, when he’d previously been ever so eager to avoid anything and everything to do with being near Vlad.

“I don’t hate you.”

Oh?

“I just…what happened at the karaoke bar was embarrassing. I shouldn’t have confessed in such a public place…”

Huh?

“I was drunk, and it was stupid, and I wish I could just go back to normal. But I really just needed time to process your rejection.”

His what?

Vlad was truly confused now, shock and uncertainty crawling across his face.

“I figured when we came back to work, you’d give me some space? But you kept trying to talk to me, and the anger just kept coming back, because it was just so…suffocating, you know?” Joel leaned back against the counter, gripping the edges until his knuckles turned white. “Being open like that, working up the courage to confess and being shot down, especially in front of so many people-”

Before Joel could keep babbling, Vlad interrupted by saying, “Confess what?” He had barely registered moving across the small space, but here he was, face to face with Joel, and very quickly putting pieces together about their current situation.

“What do you mean ‘confess what’, V?” The annoyance in Joel’s voice was back now, lined with what could only be sadness and a hint of confusion even as the nickname left him with startling ease. “Please don’t play dumb with me here… My song? The one I sang to you at the bar?” 

They stared at each other for a moment. Brows furrowed, Vlad lips opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The fucking song? The song he hadn’t fucking translated in the last two weeks because he didn’t think it would matter? The one Viola and Miah had been trying to talk about with him for-

Fucking Gods above, he was an idiot.

Vlad ran a hand through his unruly hair and let out a sharp sarcastic laugh. Then another, and another, until he was almost painfully doubled over in a full fit of laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. He really couldn’t believe this.

“You don’t need to laugh at me, I know it was stupid! There’s no need to be cruel about it.”

“No no, Joel, you misunderstand-” He could barely get out his words through the laughter.

“I understand perfectly. This is exactly why I didn’t want to have this conversation before I was over you, fuck!”

“Joel-”

“You can be so mean sometimes, you know that?” Joel’s hand was pinching his nose again, a habit Vlad had come to adore.

“Would you please just-”

“I put my heart on the line like that, like this and-”

Vlad took another step to close the distance between the two, the hand not holding his cane coming up to cup Joel’s cheek. His 5 o’clock shadow left pinpricks against Vlad’s palm when his jaw clamped shut under it. Their eyes found each other, and Vlad couldn’t help the watery smile that spread across his face.

“I do not speak Spanish, Joel.”

He could see so many distinct emotions across the other’s face as Joel processed what had been said. The confused look he’d previously been sporting grew exponentially, staying for only a few seconds before being replaced with a look of pure wonder, of hope.

“Oh…”

“I had absolutely no idea what you were saying on that stage, just that you sounded lovely.” His eyes were soft as he spoke. “Why did you think I spoke Spanish?”

“I asked Viola months ago about it! She told me very clearly that you spoke Spanish.”

Vlad pulls back a few centimeters, and his face drops into a completely blank stare.

“You asked Viola.”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t double check with anyone else? Not my assistant, not Miah?”

“I didn’t think I needed to!” 

At that, Vlad pulled back all the way with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll, finding his way back to the couch for the second time. He should have expected Joel would shadow him as he made his way back with how touchy he was, especially now after weeks of no contact.

“Did you ask her this before or after you both missed call time for an arm wrestling contest? Because if it was the latter, I fear the lesson you need to learn cannot be taught.”

“Not the point! You didn’t know I liked you?” 

Vlad was finally seated as he looked back up at the other with the same unimpressed face.

“I thought I’d made that quite obvious, no? Had I known I would have said something very different when you had gotten off that stage.” 

Of course he would have, and now the reaction he’d received after complimenting Joel’s singing made all the more sense to him. ‘That’s it?’ he’d said, and while Vlad may not have understood then, he did now. Because no, that was not it; there was so much more he could have said.

“Well…” Joel cut himself off to look at Vlad with that same look of wonder he’d given earlier. “...What would you have said?”

“That I reciprocate.” 

They held eye contact, and Joel let out a breath the other hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. 

“I would have asked you out on a date, which we would have already gone on by now, and I would have kissed you.” 

Joel seemed to melt at his words, shoulders drooping, eyelids coming down to partially cover the beautiful gold Vlad was finally able to enjoy again. 

“I would have told you that was a stupid way to confess, as I am now.” Vlad held his gaze and Joel knelt before him. He could practically feel his heart beating in his throat when a hand was placed over his good knee. “I would have-” 

Vlad’s next words were cut off as a pair of lips softly met his own. They were chapped, he noted, no doubt from how often the man seemed to bite them, a habit he’d noticed days into their friendship. They broke apart for a moment, just to look at one another, eyes filled with all the emotions that were still left unspoken. 

Vlad let his eyes travel down to Joel’s mouth and then dove back in for more. The other let out a surprised noise, but it only took him a moment to find his bearings before he reciprocated the kiss, allowing all his pent up thoughts and desires to bleed into it. Vlad sighed happily, tilting his head to the side in an effort to get closer, to deepen the kiss, to show exactly how much he’d been wanting this too, waiting for it. 

He leaned his cane against the couch and brought both hands up to the sides of Joel’s face, to pull him in just a bit, before one slid to cup the back of his neck. The other slipped into his product filled hair. He felt a hand on his own cheek then, a thumb brushing along the mole under his eye, and the hand that had previously been on his knee slid up to his waist. He felt Joel shift to stand and chased after his lips as they parted, making a displeased noise and letting his hands tighten to keep their hold on the other to stop him from going too far.

“I was not done,” he said with a playful lilt in his voice, putting on a slight pout. 

Joel let out an airy laugh and sat beside him on the couch, their hands staying on each other’s faces.

“I know.”

They leant back in.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

They had spent the last hour just talking, and kissing a bit of course, just setting things straight and making sure they finally, finally were on the same page as one another. Joel had fallen asleep with his head in Vlad’s lap not too long ago, and he stroked his fingers through his hair as he reminisced over their last conversation.

“I speak Swedish Joel; Swedish, Czech, French, and English.”

“So you mean to tell me everyone I knew in that room except for you spoke Spanish? I told every person in the room ALL THAT except for the one person it was meant for?”

“Yes, I believe you did.”

Vlad let out a soft chuckle to himself at the recent memory. They’d agreed on a date tomorrow night; Joel would cook dinner for them at Vlad’s apartment so he could recover from today at home while also not having to wait for their first date. Vlad also had a few more plans for the evening that he would bring up later on, of course, but until then he was content with the notion that, yes, Joel did still care for him.

“You didn’t even google the song? Like at all?”

“I was going through a lot, what can I say? At least I attempted to have a conversation about it. You practically fell off the edge of that one bridge set to get away when you saw me last week.”

“Have you seen yourself in that uniform, V?? I couldn’t handle seeing you in that any more than absolutely necessary until I could get my emotions under control.”

“Are they under control now, then?”

“Absolutely not, my heart’s been beating out of my chest since I kissed you.”

“Hm…I make you that nervous, then?” He had leaned his face in until they were almost touching again.

“You’re a menace, Vladimir…a very beautiful hot menace.”

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the trailer finally opened up. His eyes drifted to the entrance as a head of pinned up butterfly locs came into view and familiar eyes peeked in.

“Oh good, you made up! Please tell me you didn’t fuck in my trailer.” 

He let out a bark of laughter at her as Miah came fully into view and leaned back onto the kitchen counter.

“You’re in luck, we did not.” A sigh of relief. “However, if you ever do something like this again, the odds may tilt out of your favor.”

Miah let out a slight laugh and nodded at him, her eyes falling to the head on his lap.

“I promise you, if I’d seen any other option I wouldn’t have gone this route,” she assured him. “You two are just so stubborn! We’ve all been trying to tell you to get together, since… literally since the first day on set actually, and you both just kept dancing in circles.” 

Miah looked like she wanted to throw her hands up in exasperation. 

“I told you to look up the song.” 

Oh god, he thought, she was about to start making another list. 

Vlad groaned and threw his head back against the window as he watched her lift a singular finger in the air from the corner of his vision.

“I also told you to ask him out several times over the last two months alone.” A second finger. “And I also told him-” All three fingers now waved down at Joel, still calmly asleep in his lap, “-to talk to you! We all tried our best to get the ball rolling here, but ya’ll just can’t make things easy, can you?”

Vlad glanced down at his partner with a smile. 

No. They couldn’t, could they?

[uncanny-tranny]

The most infuriating form of sanism is this idea that mentally ill people/people with mental disorders are just too stupid or too unenlightened to know how to be a proper, well-adjusted person

So many therapists have ignored signs of my unwellness simply because they assumed I was just... being stupid, and I just needed educating about why I'm acting disordered (apparently, mental disorders stop disordering you once you are condescendingly told why you're just disordered and dumb, who knew (sarcasm)).

Like, I could tell them that I knew my behaviour wasn't "rational," wasn't "reasonable" to do or believe and I'd still be treated like I was so dumb I needed hand-holding and scolding about why I'm acting disordered.

I truly wish that people would be able to take the idea of guidance and stop twisting it into "I am superior and enlightened and the people I am trying to help are stupid and wrong and beneath me!"

[akindredskillet]

Making a Home 🌻

I’ve been thinking about this ever since I put this caption together, so why not! Omori queer analysis time.

Now, most analysis of Omori subtext comes from the Headspace sections, and understandably so! Since it takes place in Sunny’s mind, nearly anything can be read into, because everything must serve some function within the world. Within Faraway Town — not so much! Sunny doesn’t seem to have much agency.

Except… That’s not exactly true, is it? There are over twenty sidequests, and therefore at least twenty ways Sunny makes a difference in Faraway Town before moving away, to lesser or greater extents. This can be seen most readily in Universally Loved runs, when he wakes up in his hospital room brimming with flowers from those he’s helped along the way:

Today I want to talk about the Picking Paint and Cooking sidequests. The detail that first brought this to my attention was the wallpaper selection.

It begins on 3 Days Left in Fix-It, where a newly-wed couple is struggling to choose a paint color for their new house, insisting the other one choose. It’s very cutesy and over-the-top, with custom animations showing them blowing kisses to each other.

Eventually, Sean & Karen ask Sunny to choose a paint swatch randomly, and he does so with his eyes closed, but ends up accidentally choosing a floral wallpaper sample instead.

When you visit them later, they actually have the wallpaper up throughout the entirety of the house, which is in the pink swatch, one of two on showcase in Fix-it. The other is… you guessed it! The wallpaper from Basil’s house.

If you go outside into the garden area directly after this, you’ll also be able to see Basil as a memory vision, as well as the flower Sean & Karen gift to Sunny should we finish this sidequest.

(Note: Despite my best efforts, I couldn't determine exactly what kind of flower this was meant to depict, if anything specific).

As you may guess, my proposal here is that even with his eyes closed, Sunny has an instinctual draw to Basil, and things Basil likes. I don’t mean this in a literal psychic sense, but in more of a symbolic way — perhaps even implying that Sunny understands his feelings better on a subconscious level, when he’s not actively looking at them.

Now this is somewhat shoddy evidence on its own, so let’s keep digging.

The reason this stuck out to me is because flowers are usually mentioned in Omori in tandem with Basil. So much so Basil & Flowers might as well be synonymous (and according to the names of the beta characters, once were!)

Obviously, Basil is associated with his flower garden in Headspace, and particularly Stranger's line comparing Sunny to white tulips on the path to Basil's house is often interpreted as having romantic undertones. There's even other official art based off of this line, where if you look very closely at the base of the tulip, it reads: "143. I love you, I love you, I love you".

But even within the main cast's dialogue, flowers are mentioned about 50 times, with 65% of these mentions being spoken by or related to Basil in some way. Many of Mari’s are about the flower puzzle sidequest – which is arguably also related to Basil, as it is initiated by a character named Daisy, and the only Headspace sidequest you can activate while Basil is in your party (not my original observation: read more about that here!)

The majority of Hero’s mentions are about buying flowers for his mother in the main plot. Disregarding these exceptions, it brings the Basil-flower correlation up to 95%!

Sean & Karen then invite us to their housewarming party. They explain they have recently moved in together, but that both of them are from Faraway Town.

We know this to be true, because this pair actually has Headspace counterparts, implying Sunny would have known them from years before.

Enter: Shawn & Ren!

Similar to Daisy, you can find these two at the playground, and they’re some of the only Headspace NPCs you can interact with while Basil is still in your party.

Throughout the game, they are always found next to each other, and they are even some of the only characters in the game to have a shared dialogue box. It’s not just Shawn and Ren, it’s Shawn and Ren.

Clearly, these two have always been close enough in real life for Sunny to make this observation and consider them a matching pair, even though they’re only now moving in together nearly four years later. In my interpretation, I consider them childhood sweethearts.

Coincidentally, they also give Omori the Observe skill. This skill is granted after laying down to stargaze with them. Recently, an acquaintance of mine mentioned they thought these two had similarities to the legend of Tanabata, or Star Festival. The story of Tanabata is about a pair of star-crossed lovers — a Weaver Princess and a Cow Herder.

Ren doesn’t seem to have much in common physically with the Weaver Princess, other than wearing a Japanese-inspired outfit similar to Mari’s, but Shawn distinctly has horns and ears attached to the sides of his head. While the wiki lists these as goat features, I think they’re much more reminiscent of a cow, with horns that grow out in a crescent shape rather than curving straight up and back.

There’s not much else to go off of, but considering Omori notably uses other Japanese folklore as inspiration for Headspace characters, it’s also not an impossible stretch. We don’t know why Shawn and Ren might have been considered star-crossed (or perhaps that’s a romantic daydream Sunny came up with himself!), but there are very notable reasons Sunny & Basil might be, including being the same sex in a small town in the 1990’s, and the complexities of their history together.

Shawn & Ren can also be found in the lobby area of the Last Resort. They’re noticeably on screen during the sequence in which Aubrey and Kel create the Bad Drawing of Basil in an attempt to continue the search for him.

That’s the last of Shawn & Ren’s appearances in the final release of Omori, but it’s also worth noting that these characters existed even in the early concept art of Headspace:

This shows to me that they have significance beyond the "random NPC made to fill out Headspace". In the 2018 Demo, there also existed sprites of Shawn & Ren that didn’t make it into the final game:

Notably, they’re depicted holding a jump rope between them. Presumably, this was removed to censor certain allusions to The Truth too early, similar to the Noose Room being removed, or the first half of Basil’s VHS tape, etc. The jump rope here is purple, like all of the jump ropes in the final game, probably to not stick out against the Headspace landscape. However, the jump rope in early Omori art was bright red:

We know that Sunny & Basil are described as being “tied together by a string of fate”. Of course, the true “string”, or I should say “rope”, that ties them together is The Truth, as they are the only two who know, and are irreparably changed because of it.

The “red string of fate” comes from Chinese mythology and typically describes soulmates. I’m certainly not the first to make the connection between the jump rope and the red string of fate, as lots of popular fanart can attest to.

But wait — are they star-crossed lovers then, or are they soulmates? Aren’t these two concepts opposites? One describes a couple who is destined to be true to each other for eternity, and one describes a couple whose future together has been impeded by the stars themselves.

Well, I submit my theory: Sunny & Basil are star-crossed soulmates. They can’t exist without each other, because they’re the only two in the world who truly understand each other, but they can’t exist together, because of the traumatic and delicate nature of their history.

Finally, we come back to Faraway Town and the second sidequest involving Sean & Karen. We show up to their homecoming party a little earlier than invited on One Day Left, and now we have Hero and Aubrey tagging along. (I definitely recommend this sidequest if you haven’t done it yourself already, as it is very heartfelt!)

In the cooking portion, the four of them all divvy up tasks like they presumably used to when they were friends — except one of the group is missing. Well… two actually. And seeing them all back together like this, Basil’s absence is even more apparent:

Later in the evening, we return for the party, and Karen welcomes us in:

It’s a housewarming party, so her dialogue requesting we “make ourselves at home” only makes sense here… but there’s someone else who has said this to us before...

In fact, there's someone else who is repeatedly associated with the word “home” in Omori...

The last one even explicitly refers to Basil’s “flowers back at home”, bringing us full circle.

Sean & Karen bought a house together, but until they added the final, floral touch (with Sunny’s help!), it wasn’t a home.

Sunny’s home is wherever Basil is.

In conclusion: Sunny choosing floral wallpaper is an intentional thematic choice, and Sean & Karen’s relationship not only embodies the typical childhood sweethearts love story to contrast Sunny & Basil’s more complex relationship, but also represents the overwhelming affection for Basil that Sunny doesn’t know how to express or even acknowledge.

And also they definitely move in together post-canon.

( visuals from the omori wiki, dialogue dump, & the omori let's play by reallyqueerchristmas )

Hey, you! Could you help us out for a second? Please come here and pick a color sample...

You picked up a floral wallpaper sample 🌸🌻

[persephoneflouwers]

🫀.

[the-physicality]

.

[eatyourdamnpears]

“elevated ANA levels are usually markers for an autoimmune health condition!”

well, not when the rheumatologist you see is completely invalidating about it and your rheumatology blood panel comes back negative for anything!