#i will inevitably add to this lmao

[lesbicosmos]

dead boy detectives characters as florence+the machine songs <33

crystal

shake it out

which witch

niko

what the water gave me

no choir

edwin

never let me go

seven devils

charles

bird song

heartlines

hardest of hearts

monty

cosmic love

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[finsmultiverse]

I’m about to crash out because I want to shift so badly and every morning for the past like week I do some form of divination about why I didn’t wake up in my DR and almost ever time the answer is I DID shift it was just really brief and I don’t remember it and the only advice I’m getting is to trust myself and keep trying

[scribz-ag24]

Stupid question but which one re-evolved first, Duskull/Dusknoir or Treecko/Grovyle?

First, don't say it's a stupid question, I would love to share ideas for the au and talk more about it, especially 'cause I personally am not very creative on my own, so interaction helps immensely.

Second, gonna be honest here, I actually have no idea. I haven't really put much thought into actual plot lmao. The AU doesn't even belong to me really, I just took jsab's one and came up with little interactions that I found funny and/or cute (in my defense, i was starving for actaeonshipping content xd). I didn't plan an actual timeline/story, and I feel that way anyone can come up with their own interpretation of it, which is fun. (and also less complicated cause the logistics of a swap au would be,,,,,,,,,,,,complicated i think).

However, since you asked, I am going to list some random ideas I had about how it could happen, which sort of mixes with possible story beats ig. Sorry beforehand for the length and change of subject lol.

tldr: imo it depends on what story you wanna come up with and whatever serves it better (i.e. you want it to happen post game, so you follow the game's plot; you want it to happen during the story, so sth weird happens, etc.)

So in PMD:EOS world, pokémon evolve through the Luminous Spring. The player can't evolve until the spring regains its light once the flow of time is fixed. So either we have Grovyle and Dusknoir re-evolving after Dialga is defeated, respecting canon, or we tweak it a bit to make it more interesting.

A way to alter the spring method would be by stealing a headcanon I saw someplace I can't remember (oops): that pokémon, while they usually rely on the Luminous Spring, on very rare occasions can evolve through high levels of stress to protect themselves. I personally like this theory because it explains why there are evolved pokémon in the future, like Grovyle and Dusknoir themselves. They were born in a paralysed world, with no magic skinnydipping, so what's up with that.

When I say this ties in with story beats is because I feel the choice here can make two different versions of the swap, 1. treecko and duskull literally take the hero and partner role to the very end (plus a face off against darkrai ig??), or 2. respect the game's kind-of-chosen one narrative by having partner keep their relic fragment, and making grovyle and dusknoir's main mission to help hero and partner work together again. The problem with this AU is that, if taken seriously, it would need a DEEP reconsideration of the game's events and characters. When does the swap occur? Why does it happen, is Darkrai involved again? If Hero and Partner are still there, does that mean the story of eos happened beforehand but had a bad ending? How do two characters whose actions are immensely influenced by their knowledge of the future act when stripped of their canon motivations? Do they keep behaviours and reflexes (perhaps theyre a bit more ambivalent with violence/more morally gray than hero and partner) or are they a blank slate? Do they feel compelled to evolve because they have a weird feeling that they're in a body strange to them? This is why I only draw the fun two panel interactions!

Leaving all that aside, here are some scenarios that could happen (...because we are just making shit up so anything can happen):

They evolve through struggle, like I presume they had to do in the future. Maybe Treecko evolves sooner, on account of being more reckless and referencing his status as a starter pokémon that evolves at level 16. Once Duskull evolves he prolly carries the team for a while, tho, since Dusclops was supposed to be a fully evolved pokémon in gen 3, and is iconically stronger than Dusknoir when it carries an eviolite. Then again, Grovyle and Dusknoir in game are way stronger than they would be in a mainline game, so perhaps they maintain some muscle memory that helps them in combat (funny how two amnesiac pokémons, who barely remember their own names, are somehow so accostumed to battle, huh, weird). I'd say the best place for an evolution would be the dark future, maybe they escape from prison without facing the sableye -cause a prison cell isnt that big of a deal for someone who knows dig and someone whose actual pokédex entry is "It can go through walls!"- and evolve in a fight against partner?

The evolution doesn't follow game rules at all, instead it's a physical manifestation of their old memories. Hero never remembers their past (sorry grovyle), but this is pure self indulgence so maybe the other two do, or at least are more encouraged to do so or get more information (celebi for grovyle, and dialga for dusknoir).

Following that last point, Celebi and Dialga, two time travelling pokémon, actively interfere to help them get their memories back/get them up to speed with the situation, each to their own interest. Perhaps this involve a separation arc between Treecko and Duskull, à la Gates to Infinity. This would serve to make them less dependent of each other, and mature on their own for a while, differenciating them from hero and partner.

They don't re-evolve, they save the world/help save the world like hero and partner would do.

My favourite option is Dialga helps them somehow with time magic after the battle is over and time is fixed. The sole point of it is getting Dusknoir and Grovyle -with their memories back- to awkardly leave together on a slow stoneship that shoots rainbow, for the sole reason that it would be hilarious.

[rivilu]

I have scientifically created the most mutually uncomfortable dynamic in my fucked up little lab that the world has ever seen. I'm being arrested for unsound character keeping practices

[ladyseidr]

Small headcanon dump since she has my heart.

wants to be the center of attention so bad, all in the hopes of proving himself.

lowkey jealous that the others get more attention (particularly baby as the namesake of the pizzeria & then rental service), but still views them as family.

not aware at creation of his real purpose. truly just wants to be an entertainer. the showman & the diva, and all that!

the first kill does not go over well. although foxy has been imbued with remnant via the scooper's injector and is sentient, she still doesn't truly have the capacity to understand what's going on. being programmed to both perform/interact with the children positively and kill quickly makes foxy begin to go a little haywire.

loves william as both father & creator in the beginning, although the killing stunts this. even as foxy becomes more dangerous to his intended victims, she also becomes more volatile toward him.

inevitably comes to loathe humankind, namely adults. but no matter how much foxy loves the kids, he cannot escape his purpose until after william is gone. even so, he is still volatile and potentially dangerous to anyone.

as implied in SL, foxy's actions are initially caused by believing michael is william. once realizing, foxy's feelings are more complex ( after all, she was made for mike in a way ) but will not prevent her from trying to kill him.

[stcries]

incoming muses,  spoilers for astv,  tags will be available to block below !

midna,  twilight princess.

hobie brown,  atsv.

miguel o’hara,  atsv.

[todayisafridaynight]

Goofy as hell about your ID bro I guess everyone's a little faceblind now and then

Maybe she was thrown off bout my coconut-headass haircut in the pic LMAOOO my hair is hopefully a little better looking now compared to then

in any case…. Heh.. case.. i get to keep it in this bad boy now 😏 and hopefully not lose it again LOL

[vi-steponmeplease]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie

synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.

notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing

tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)

✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.

✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.

✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.

✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.

✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.

✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)

✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.

✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.

✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.

✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.

✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.

✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!

✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.

"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.

she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."

✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.

✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.

✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.

✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.

✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.

✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.

✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.

ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”

✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

I'm gonna add another self aware ask to your box lol- based on what I'm doing rn lolol

How do you think the self aware cookies (I specifically have beasts/ancients in mind but do whoever you want lol) would react to a player who's literally nodding off while doing daily missions/tasks before bed? Or if they just straight up fall asleep with the game open.

I've done this like at least once when I was doing alliance lmao, fell asleep and woke up to my cookies cheering because it was the end, god they must've waited for so long cheering and waiting for me, poor guys </3

Pure Vanilla He notices it quickly, he tries his best to subtly urge you to sleep, changing his voicelines a bit to try and encourage you but it doesn't work...well mainly because you're too drowsy to sleep, it's no wonder you didn't realise his voicelines weren't correct.

When he does see you finally falling asleep, he's thankful. Finally...though he is a bit stuck until you notice, don't worry. He doesn't mind keeping an eye on you as you sleep.

White Lily She looks at you as you seem to stiffen in a yawn, needing her and a few others to fight a few cookies in arena, however after a while after beating the opponent she realised...you fell asleep. She wonders how tired you were during the day, my she's worried, especially if it's not even in bed you fell asleep.

She could hardly care less if she's stuck "celebrating" their win as she looks at your sleeping form. Wondering when you'll wake up, she knows you will but she's just worried what happened during the day when you were off. You may just be tired which she hopes is the case, she doesn't want you overworking yourself.

Dark Cacao He knows a look of tiredness when he sees it, he knows when someone overworks themselves to the very bone as well. He's willing to break the code in the game, to go against what most cookies have been doing and "break" the 4th just to make sure you get ample rest.

He can't have one of his favourite people working endlessly now can he? He knows you enjoy playing and perhaps want to play daily, and while he also enjoys just seeing your face everytime, he needs you to rest as well. No need to come see them if your body is telling you to rest.

Golden Cheese Similar to Dark Cacao, she isn't scared to break the 4th wall to tell you to sleep, besides. Perhaps you're too tired to realise your cookie "game" is talking to you. She cares a lot for your health, and while, sure sleeping when you're tired is fine.

Seeing you seemingly push yourself awake before inevitability falling asleep worries her. She doesn't mind if she's stuck wandering aimlessly around your kingdom, stuck being in her defeated or celebrating animation. Her main concern is you, oh she wishes she could tuck you into bed and put your phone away. She's heard from others that it seems to burn up your phone a lot...she'd rather you not wake up to a scorching phone.

Hollyberry doesn't release it quickly, she's continuing to celebrate, she thinks perhaps you went to quickly do something but when she looks at you she sees your peaceful sleeping face. Awe you look so cute, but didn't know know it wasn't a good idea to sleep next to your phone? Especially with it charging (let's hope it isn't)

She finds it sweet, thinking about how tired you must've been before falling into a slumber but still tapping on the game to finish up some things. You didn't need to do that, most cookies are fine without seeing you. You should've went to bed as soon as you yawned she thinks. She won't lecture you though, even if she could/wanted too. She may advise you to head to bed earlier though if you can. The more sleep you have, the more energy you'll have so this won't happen again.

Shadow Milk At first he doesn't notice, trying every trick in the book to get you to look and pay attention to him. Thankfully for him, he's one of the few cookies you "expect" to break the 4th wall, his attempts stop as he hears you snore.

Finally realising you fell asleep. At first he was a teeny bit offended, thinking you fell asleep during his shows until he remembered you don't even know they're real...wait how long ago did you sleep? Don't tell him he's been trying to get the attention of a sleeping person.

Gods now he looks like an insane person...at least that's what you seem to like about him. He continues watching you sleep for a bit, up till either the phone battery runs out or the phone naturally closes due to inactivity.

Or if it lets him continue watching he will, he finds you rather pretty when you sleep

Mystic Flour she notices the moment you fall asleep, the moment your eyes shut innocently to capture those Zs. She stares motionless at your sleeping form. Enjoying the sight, that does sound creepy but she claims it's to ensure you have a peaceful nap.

And if anyone nearby tries to make a loud sound, whether intentionally or not, she isn't afraid to stare daggers at them until they stop. You need your beauty rest after all, though if you ask her. She thinks any more would be overkill, she finds you rather ethereal afterall.

Burning Spice probably nearly woke you up, it isn't until the other beasts shush more. Mystic Flour glaring at him and Shadow Milk covering his mouth while pointing does he shut up about how boring it's been without activity and where you went.

Well at least he got his answer, now I feel he'd love to wake you up, he'll definetly find your shock rather entertaining (and shadow milk would be lying if he said he wasn't curious) but...damn you look peaceful as hell...maybe he'll be quiet.

Sure he's still bored as well waiting till you wake up, but if it's for you to get some much needed rest so you could cause more destruction in arena? So be it, he'd prefer not to do it again but...He supposes he wouldn't mind seeing your sleeping form again

[clever-feathers-clan]

Received it! It's too freaking cute, omg?!

Perfection! 🏳️‍⚧️🦇

-Aito Ardent Martin

Want to do some early christmas shopping? Been holding out for a good sale?

Etsy has a site wide sale on until October the 11th 2023! All orders of 40$ USD before shipping qualify for 10$ off, which means all my bats qualify for this sale!

So go shop at your favorite artist's shops for some handmade gifts this year!

You can find mine here!

[gremnda]

You betrayed me. And I hate you.

I brought some toxic yuri to add to the soup :] Very heavily inspired by @bucket-of-amethyst's fic Inevitable. Genuinely the best gempearl fic i have ever read, i went insane over it and this art appeared lmao give it a read everyone <3

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

��You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

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[pricegouge]

an increase of interest and sweet, encouraging asks and also these posts (i, ii) have led me to do the unthinkable: write a little extracurricular for haul, can you even believe it?

went in a bit of a different direction here. i've gotten a lot of asks about past victims and while i don't really wanna get too bogged down in the specifics of their time with the boys, i thought it might be fun to see how different price is from simon when he's hunting so. here's a different doll not knowing what's good for her.

cw: prostitution, coercion, kidnapping. implied murder. unedited cause i'm freaking out to be touching this again lmao. MDNI

You know something's wrong with him. Beyond the pale, beyond the knowledge you could never introduce him to your mother. That you're used to, well-versed at. It's something worse, something unsettling. something that clings to you long after he leaves, the very cells he sheds infecting, spreading.

Within and without.

You'll be like on of his soon if you're not careful - that pack of rabid dogs that follow him. It disturbs you, how easily you can see yourself among them sometimes, glinting eyes and too-sharp teeth. One more desert predator, runt of the pack and yet a par of it.

Better never to know. Better to leave it like this - small doses. Better to let him fuck you in a truck stop shower so you can scrub yourself clean after, pretend you remain unchanged by him. Ignore all the evidence suggesting otherwise, the undeniable ache and the trail of come he always leaves to trickle down your thigh.

You should know better, but it's hard to remember when his thick cock is driving up into you in one slow drag, splitting you open cruelly just to hear you cry about it.

He like them, your tears. Too much, probably, but you like the drag of his tongue on your cheek too, hot even in the tepid spray of hard water. You feel the rough scrape of his beard at your temple and wonder - is he actually infectious, or were you always predisposed? Was this something you were always capable of? Letting a customer add your services to their tab? Take you out back with their to-go bags and their travel-sized toiletries? You like to think nit, like to blame John and that strange quality of his, the way he can somehow manage to make you feel less-than and wanted for it all at once, sells you some unspoken promise of betterment if you just play along.

You sweat you know better, but you've said that before. It's how you wind up back here, always back here, his bulging bicep wrapped around your throat as he grunts in your ear.

He's pressed against your back as closely as he can be, so tight you imagine the runoff can't even slip between you. But that can't be right because he's slick against you, streams of soap finding their way down your spine through the follicles of his thick chest hair, coating your skin to let him work against you in slick, slow grinds. You can feel his belly settled against the small of your back, forcing you to arch your spine just so, let him fuck in deep to the very end of you, cock head leaking against your cervix.

He'd asked you if you were on some sort of contraceptive once, much too late for it to have mattered. You'd told yourself you wouldn't take his money again when you'd caught the look of disappointment on his face, but you'd told yourself a lot of things.

It's hard to feel shame, in the moment, at least. And maybe that's the worst part - the fact that you ache for him when he's away. Empty, hungry. But if there's something wrong with him that means there's something wrong with you, right? That means the long nights spent with your fingers stuffed in your cunt just wishing for something thicker are just as bad as this: bellied up against a dirty shower stall with a strange man's cock buried so deep inside you you're sure it'll take this time, that seed of doubt that makes you want to climb in his truck when he inevitable offers. Why settle for lot lizard when you could just be his?

Of course, he never phrases it like that, never admits he'll keep you. And maybe he won't but he'd take you Arkansas, maybe, where his plates are from. North, where he's headed tonight perhaps. Usually you see him returning form out West and you wonder… He doesn't have to keep you. You don't need to hear him say it. Cause whatever's wrong with him, it's catching.

But he doesn't ask, not when he's still panting like a bellows in your ear, rocking his hips against you aimlessly as he works you both through it. He doesn't ask when he slips free and immediately cups his callused palm against your cunt, groaning when he feels his own spend leaking onto his hand. He certainly doesn't ask when he makes you lick it clean, salt and the heavy tang of grease which Irish Springs will never fully cut through. You think maybe he'll ask when he goes to shove the money in your hand, as is his usual. But he doesn't, so you do, your own stomach acid boiling up your esophagus as you try (and fail) to keep the desperate edge out of your voice.

And John, well. You did know there was something wrong with him.

"What's is to you?" he grunts, hand snapping back out of your reach when you go to take the proffered money.

"But… you said -?"

"Know what I said. Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he soothes, a balm for the fear you hadn't even been able to voice. "Just… maybe it'll look different now?"

"How do you mean?" you hedge, and John steps closer, blots out the flickering overhead light. Behind him, the door to the shower room opens and rapidly closes, the soft pad of boots treading back down the hall confirming your would-be voyeur had wanted nothing to do with this scene.

At least your reputation remained undamaged.

"I mean. I'll keep you fed. Clothed. Keep you out of the elements. You really gonna make me pay on top of all that?"

"Oh," you wilt. "I guess not."

John's eyes crinkle when he grins at you encouragingly, that same deceptively endearing quality that had first drawn you to him all those months ago. He pulls you against himself, lets you bask in the warmth of his soft, furry chest as he continues to soothe your fears. "But don't worry, not gonna let you put yourself in a bind, hm? You still got something saved from my last visit, yeah? And if you ever need some more, we'll find you some work." He swats you on the ass before you can protest, leaning away to collect his flannel. "Now get dressed. Running behind schedule and I'm already gonna have to skip a stop in Oakley."

"That why you didn't take the time to stretch me open properly?" you ask, cheeky - testing your boundaries. You're pleasantly surprised when he just huffs a laugh, leans close to grown in your ear about how he'll never have to stretch you open again.

It's surreal following him out, ducking behind his broad frame to let him weather the stare of the would-be voyeur. John doesn't flinch so neither do you, head back to your post behind the till with the same confidence you've seen among his boys. A runt still maybe, but part of the pack now.

"Where're you off to?" John asks when he sees you slinking off in the wrong direction. You wait until the other driver disappears down the hall to unlock the register, grinning at your partner as you lift a few hundred from it.

"I know what 'some work' means," you say by way of explanation, and frown when it fails to earn any sign of chastisement.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, love," John warns instead, eyes rolling warily to the overhead security camera.

You wave him off, a loose fiver fluttering free of your fist. "Take this," you order, shoving the hills into his chest. More spill free but the ducks to collect them as you pull up the feed on the laptop behind the counter. "Retired truckers don't know much about security," you impart wisely.

"That so?" he drawls, voice rich with a humor you don't quite understand.

"Yeah, word to the wise - always have a live feed backed up to a separate, private location." to illustrate the importance of this, you cut the feed and then proceed to delete all evidence of the night's recording. It won't stop Roy, the owner, from knowing who's shift if was but it would keep John safe from all but that other driver who apparently already knew enough to keep his head down any way.

When you peel yourself away from the screen, John's eyeing you with a sort of appreciation that makes your tummy flip, a low simmer of excitement building just there, just where you feel him most when he's inside you. Infecting. Spreading. "Clever doll, you are," he praises as you step back around the counter. He hands you your loot back, now properly shuffled into a neat stack. "I'll have to remember that. Now go on out to your car and get what you need. I'll just be a minute, he says, nodding to a display of beef jerky like there's nothing of more value to him in the whole store.

It seems to take him forever deciding, but when he comes back the other trucker still hasn't left.

[eulaliasims]

so, uhhhh, new hood just dropped.

Welcome to Veridia!

I'm going to make some posts showing off the lots and Veridia's inhabitants. If you're not into historical-flavored games, go ahead and add 'Eulalia: Veridia' to your blocklist and I'll see you when I inevitably bounce back into Middleground!

Ages ago I was messing around with my medieval CC folder and was like, 'what if I make an iron age neighborhood?', and then it morphed into being inspired by Iron Age Britain specifically. Heavy emphasis on the inspired. (Also, I hate building roundhouses in this game.) So I'm pretty sure at this point it's just 'generic medieval'. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ oh well.

Anyway, this is actually pretty different from how I normally play. I'm actually having to balance taking care of sims' needs and their wants. There's a lot of Sun & Moon sets I'm learning to use, but we'll see how in depth the trade economy gets, lmao. Veridia also is a lot smaller than Middleground—just seven households, plus four townies in each age group.

[monarchberrysblog]

𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍

part 2 — take me out to the ballgame 🧢

an inspired baby daddy au from @yougavemeyourheartyouknow as I wanted to add my own spin to it

🍼 baby daddy! miguel o’hara x fem! reader 🍼

“I think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else.”

⚾ synopsis — your paths keep colliding! and what do you do? go out on a date… maybe?

⚾ content warning/tags — miguel talks about baseball (lmao), mentions of baseball positions and innings, first–date shenanigans (?), there really isn't a date but there is (idk how to explain), subtle sexual tension, silly playful teasing

⚾ word count: +1.4k words (ik its short. Don't come for me pls)

⚾ author’s note — here we are! this was honestly a fic waiting to be continued as I have gotten busy with university and rarely have the time to write for funsies. Life got too real for a moment but here we are! I hope you guys enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day!!

🍟 not proofread! 🍟

The chime from your phone snapped you out of your daze, directing your attention away from your laptop. The notification bar appeared on your lock screen, showing a message from Miguel. The screen slowly faded to black before the phone screen flicked back on with a new notification—double texting. You tap on your phone screen, allowing the device to open the unread notification. “I got two tickets to the Dodgers and Yankees, and my brother can’t come, wanna join? I’ll pay for your snacks if you'd like to join.”

“A Dodgers game…” You mumble to yourself. The laptop that was once on your lap was now moved to your couch’s cushion instead. The excitement churned your lower stomach, waking up the butterflies in your gut. Your eyes dart onto Bella, her small body curled up on one of your cushions. Her soft breathing is evident, her sides rising and falling into a steady tempo. “Should I go to the ballgame, Bella?” You ask the canine as if she were your parent.

The soft pets against her back slowly snapped her away as she slowly stretched, her tail wagging happily. She lets out a happy yip before pawing her way to your lap immediately. Her dark eyes looked up at you with a glisten, encouraging you to attend the date, if you can even call it that.

A date… A first date? Is it even a date? It’s just a hangout, right? He just has an extra ticket and he didn’t want it to go to waste…

You think for a moment, rather you take ten minutes to think, despite your gut pleading with you to go.

“Should I go, Bella?” You ask her again, picking her up, holding her up like your infant. She quietly yawns before licking your face and glasses, leaving a smudgy trail behind on the dirty lens. “I take that as a yes…” You mumbled, her soft puppy licks slowly coming to an end. “But I don't know! I like being around him; he makes me laugh, and I don't know if he even feels the same way with me…” You sigh, gently placing the happy, yapping puppy on the couch. She tilts her head to the side before putting her two front paws on your thigh and kneads, pleading for you to go to the “date.”

“I know it’s too soon to say it, but I feel it.” You cover your face in frustration, reclining back onto the couch. You hold back for a moment, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. The simple question is enough to drive you into madness, but leaving the message unread is a dirty feeling. You move your thumbs quickly, swiping to the notes app, letting your thumbs throw up incoherent sentences that make no sense until your brain eases down.

It felt childish enough that you waited another ten minutes to respond, but having to open your notes app to type a laid-back response is terrible enough as it is. You didn't want to look desperate.

“Sure, what day and time?”

The lively crowd in the stadium filled the ambiance as you munched on your cheese fries, the same fries that would inevitably give you stomach cramps at the end of the night. But the cheesy bacon concoction only had you return for seconds as you nibbled on the seasoned fry. Your eyes are glued on the green field before you as his arm is wrapped around your shoulder. “Hey, I'm gonna get us something to drink. Do you have a drink preference?”

You momentarily ponder as a small glob of nacho cheese stuck on your cheek. “A margarita, please.” You beg, looking up at him from where he stood. He chuckles before licking at the pad of his thumb, wiping away the nacho cheese and tasting the salty yet creamy sauce. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He chuckles as he awkwardly moves down the aisle, trying not to step on anyone’s shoe. You giggle when he stumbles up the steps. He whistles at you and gives you a playful wink before tripping over his feet.

You giggle before he leaves you at your seat, and you continue to enjoy the game as the pitcher pitches a perfect strike. The crowd roars in mixed reactions, some cheering while others protest.

Your teeth nibble at the plastic prongs of the fork, sitting with anticipation of the next pitch. Everyone in your row seemed to have the same nerves rattling their core, seeing the pitcher raise their arm, ready for another serve.

“Did I miss anything?” His voice brings you back as he sits, holding the two beverages in one hand. “No, just a couple of fowls and strikes.” You keep your eyes on the field before Miguel steals a couple of french fries from your tray without your knowledge. “Hmm, this pitcher, Sato, definitely knows what he’s doing,” Miguel mumbles, popping a fry into his mouth. “I think a little too well…” You state, watching the batter hit the pitch and witnessing the baseball hit the fowl post.

“And there they go, time for the Dodgers to bat,” Miguel claps his hands together, seeing the players run to gather their needed items. He chuckles before taking a sip of his Dos X and wraps his arms around you once more. “Look at that!” He tilts his chin towards the large screen, which will show entertainment for the next five minutes. “Kiss cam.” He chuckles, seeing a couple fall victim to their fifteen seconds of fame. The couple shook their heads before the crowd booed at them, encouraging them for a smooch.

“Do you think that is gonna land on us?” He asks, watching the next couple fall victim. “Nah,” you dismiss, taking another bite of fries.

A series of different couples shared the same thing: a small, innocent kiss. But then the crowd cheers fill your section as the camera is now on the both of you, catching the both of you at your worst moment: you eating filthy stadium food and Miguel drinking the mediocre beer. You choke on a small chunk of fries as Miguel spits his drink into the glass bottle. The section booed at the two of you, bringing you back to the humiliation you felt as a preteen when you didn't do a dare.

Miguel shakes his head and makes a sawing gesture at his neck, telling them to move on to the next pair. “It's our first date!” He yells, but his voice is barely audible through the books from your section. When the camera did so, you sighed in relief, reaching for a napkin to wipe your lips.

“Watch, they're gonna put the camera on us after them.” You quip, quickly swig your cocktail, and place it into the stand’s cup holder. It seemed God wasn't on your side as the camera panned back to the two of you. The crowd only cheered loudly and demanded a kiss.

“Spoke too soon, mamas.” He chuckles, gently tugging you close to him without your knowledge. You groan, frustration coursing in your veins. “Let's give them what they want.” His voice drops when he whispers the six-worded sentence to you. “With what I was eating? Hell no—”

His lips coaxed the harsh words out of you, silencing you immediately after. The gesture is soft but silences the voices inside your mind. An aloe gel on a scolding, hot burn. He slowly pulled away as the crowd cheered, but the color on your cheeks only proved it.

“Now was that so hard?” You sat on your seat with an open mouth, enough space for your soul and dignity to creep out of your lips and land on the concrete floors of the stand, floating away from you. “No, not at all…”

/

The wind from the spring breeze swept your contorting mind, whispering your messy words to be straightened up. But the simple whisper of the breeze made your brain into mush. The walk back to your car felt more protracted than expected, mainly because you parked closer to the stadium. “Can I be honest?” His voice cuts the silence between the two of you. You swallow dryly at his words—nervousness creeps into your gut.

“…yeah.” You choke up, clearing your throat after. “About the tickets…” You held onto the non-existent hope that he enjoyed being around you.

“I lied when I said my brother couldn't make it. I wanted you to go with me.”

A white noise filled your ears before you can conjure up an answer. But your words finally come back at bay, a single sentence comes out. “Why?”

A single worded question with endless answers. But there was only one answer that can ease your storm of a brain.

“Because I wanted you to come with me. I like being around you.”

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