#Sorry if the text is hard to read. I had to mostly draw it out because Krita started being stubborn when I tried typing.

[smokin-salmon]

Fuck it. *Makes the old woman cry*

[ohimsummer]

DARK RED ft. BULLY!SATOSUGU

— minors dni, angst w/comfort, mostly bully!satoru x reader, ft. bully! suguru, one implication of male masturbation, some fluff, also one (1) kiss

summary; bully! satoru manages to seriously upset you, and now he’s scrambling to give you a genuine apology

wc 2.8k

"I thought love was supposed to be easy."

Geto pauses mid-sip. "Oh, is that what you're calling this?"

Satoru leans further into his hand. His cheek smushes against his palm, muffling his grumbles. "Duh. What else would it be?"

"You being a dumbass."

Gleaming, white hair sways over Satoru's forehead, brushes his skin. "She wasn't supposed to react like that." You don't usually react like that, he thinks.

He toys with you all the time. The constant teasing and insults towards you is a regular occurrence, as much as you seem to hate it, but you always end up angrily leaving Gojo in the dust, and then the cycle repeats the next day. Only it was different last time; they’re your usual cries and shouts, but it’s a different type of outburst. Real tears in your eyes, your choked words of 'you suck!' and 'why can't you ever take anything seriously for once?' piercing through Gojo's heart and leaving a still-bleeding wound. They don't have your usual, pissed-off bite to them, but instead sound miserable. Heartbroken and disappointed, like the victim of a betrayal. Your expression shriveled any incoming words up in Satoru's throat, leaving him wide-eyed and dumbfounded as he watched you messily wipe away flowing tears and shove past him. That was last Wednesday, and he hasn't seen you since, not a glimpse or even a whiff of you on campus. It's like you never attended this college to begin with.

Satoru looks at his text messages with you, the last one being a dismal 'princess?' that you hadn't even read. He'd thought about threatening to leak one of the many sex tapes he had of you in his phone, but usually those coercions were bluffs, as Gojo nor Geto would dare leak their precious videos of you like that to anyone else. Besides, somehow forcing you into showing yourself made Satoru's stomach queasy. Like he'd vomit up his own heart.

"There."

He looks up at the sound of Geto's voice, following his pointed finger to the drink machine in the cafeteria. After loitering around for 2 hours, you'd finally shown up, alone and looking a little worse for wear. Even from a distance, Satoru can spot the dark circles under your eyes.

You stand idly in line, awaiting your turn to fill your cup. Eyes flitting from person to person, looking out for a fray of white strands or dark hair. It's hard to discern when the cafeteria is so busy at this hour, though you're not too concerned. Gojo and Geto don't usually frequent the cafe, not unless they're here to cause trouble. And you've been avoiding Satoru for about a week now with no complaints from either of them, so you're hoping you can get in and out without being spotted.

It’s an easy walk out of the cafeteria building, and you’re on your way back to your dorm when a familiar nickname stops you in your tracks. "Hey, princess!"

Fight or flight kicks in, and unfortunately your feet cement to the ground. His presence grows stronger as he draws near, until you can sense Gojo right behind you.

"Been avoiding me, Y/N?"

It feels off. He never really calls you by your actual name. "Why do you care?"

A few seconds of silence pass. Then, "Guess I missed my pretty girl is all."

Your heart aches for a second, before you scoff. "Sure you did. What, it's not the same making some other girl cry?"

Gojo doesn't answer, and you finally force your legs to pick up, heaving yourself towards your destination.

"Sorry."

Aaand, they're stuck again. Blinking, your head eases to the side, catching sight of Gojo in the corner of your vision. He looks awkward, staring at you with hands in his pockets and scuffing the ground as he kicks at the concrete. A knot forms in your stomach, hearing him utter an apology without his usual sarcasm or malice. It almost makes you want to talk things over, until the pain of your previous encounter comes flooding back, and you leave him standing there by himself. Rejected.

Day turns to darkness, and Satoru is stuck with another night of humping his fist like a desperate virgin. Suguru’s out, no telling where, leaving him alone with regretful thoughts to torment him. The next day passes. Then two. Then three. Satoru feels like he's going insane, and it's not just because he misses fucking you on the daily. He never realized just how much of a constant you were in his life until suddenly you weren't. Fuck. He groans into his pillow.

"Maybe give her a non-half-baked apology, like a normal person.," Geto complains. "And stop making so much noise, you're distracting."

"Fuck off."

"Fine, she can stay mad at you forever for all I care. You're the one who can't get in her pussy, not me."

Satoru jolts up, jaw falling slack as he glares at who was supposed to be his best friend. "Wha–, you're still fucking her? I just saw her for the first time again like three days ago!"

A smile stretches across Geto’s face. "Do you think our darling is stupid? Why would I get punished for your wrong-doings, she knows I’d fuck her up for that. "

Gojo flops face-down back onto the bed. "Not fair. We should be suffering together."

"Hell no, this is a personal problem between you and Y/N."

He groans again, legs kicking in the air. "Suguruuu, what do I do?"

"...Give her a genuine apology? I coulda sworn I just said that.”

"I already said sorry!"

"Genuine, I said. Not lazy. Give her something she likes."

Satoru turns slightly, brows furrowed. "What, like flowers? I don't know her favorites."

"Sunflowers."

Gojo pauses, directing a curious stink-eye towards Suguru. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I asked?"

Satoru rests a cheek against his arm, thoughts wandering off as he thinks of all the things he knows about you. Small things he's noticed. Like how you wear necklaces more often than any other jewelry, what certain colors catch your eye, things you've mentioned in passing when arguing with him. And now he does remember offering you a random weed he plucked from the ground as a joke, and you muttering 'what the fuck? for future reference, i like sunflowers’ before walking away from him.

"Suguru!," the mentioned man jolts at the sudden bellow of his name. "I'm making Y/N a bouquet!"

"Right." Geto rolls his eyes. "Do you even know how to do that?"

"Do you?"

"Not really–“

"Excellent, cancel your plans tomorrow, we're going out to get flowers!"

Suguru sighs. "Fine."

Both men, well Satoru, and a very grumpy Suguru after being shaken to consciousness, get up bright and early the next Saturday morning in search of a florist.

"Are these vibrant enough, ya think?" Satoru questions Geto, rubbing a hand over his own chin in contemplation. These flowers needed to be perfect, he wanted only the best for his ba–, you.

"These for someone special?," the lady behind the booth inquires. She smiles politely as she admires the golden petals. "A girlfriend, or wife, perhaps?"

"Uh–“

"Wife.," Satoru cuts Geto off. "So yes, very special, indeed."

He narrows his eyes at Suguru, who poorly muffles a chuckle behind his hand. "What?"

"Nothing. Didn't know you were married, is all."

Satoru shrugs, turning to examine the sunflowers again. "Hmph. That just shows you know nothing about me."

“I know you’re a jackass.”

“Anyway,” Gojo brushes him off. “I think these look terrific, perfect for my girl. I’ll take them all!”

Silence passes. The florist’s lids flutter in astonishment. “All of them?”

“Yep! This bouquet needs to be huge!”

Suguru places a hand on his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for several bouquets.”

Gojo’s grin widens. “Even better! Give ‘em to me.”

The looks both men get as they walk the streets with giant armfuls of sunflowers are…peculiar, but Satoru is too busy firing off his own praises on how he’s going to give you the best apology of your life to notice.

“I’m gonna make her cry!,” he beams, pauses, before adding, “Happy tears this time, though.”

Shoulders bounce as Suguru laughs, unable to stifle it with his hands full of shining yellow flowers. “She might just tell you to piss off.”

“Would it kill you to have some faith in me?”

“A little, yes.”

Geto curses under his breath. ‘Shit!’ as he goes stumbling forward right over Satoru’s foot, almost loosing his grip on the assortment in his arms.

“Hey, don’t you dare drop those.,” Gojo pouts. “These are for my wife, and they’re her favorite.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

It takes Satoru hours before he’s happy with the final product. Along with countless tutorials on how to organize a bouquet properly.

“Hold it this way.,” he commands Suguru, who rolls his tired eyes, ready to catch up on the sleep he missed this morning. “There, perfect! Wait, hold on, let me just redo this.”

“Can you hurry up?,” Geto frowns at him. “You’ve redone it like a million times already, damn.”

“Hey, my marriage is at stake here, excuse me for trying to make this look like the best bouquet she’ll ever see!”

“I’m letting go.”

“Nonowait! Okay, I’m done, promise.”

The bouquet comes out stunning, given the fact it was whipped up by two college boys who’d never created a bouquet in their lives, and especially when one of those college boys was Satoru Gojo. He boasts to Suguru, who’s yanking a blanket over his head, how it’s “his best work yet”.

“Maybe be a little more humble when you give it to her.,” Suguru grumbles as Satoru heads out, eager to present you with the display of his apologetic affections.

There’s a certain pep in his step, an excitement Gojo doesn’t often feel unless it’s to see your pretty face. Elated can’t even begin to describe it. The image of your soft lips curling into a smile, eyes sparkling as you see the large array of your favorite flowers, pushes Satoru closer and closer to your dorm building, which stands tall before him. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back. Heart swelling, Gojo can see it now, this surprise is going to make you ecstatic–

“Gojo?”

He halts mid-stride, foot hovering in the air, arms loosening around the bouquet. Satoru turns towards the sound and there you are, standing ten feet from him. Your mouth is open in a small ‘o’ as you notice the gift in his hand. Both of you stand there for a moment, eyeing each other, before you eventually break the silence.

“What’s that?”

Satoru snaps back to life, fumbling terribly to stuff the large bouquet behind his back, and he damns himself for making something so awkwardly huge. You watch, biting back a giggle, as he tries to hide what you’ve so obviously seen already. He stutters “u-uh, nothing!’ as a few petals flutter down from his hard work, and he curses ‘fuck!’.

It's easy to sneak up on Gojo when he's so busy floundering with the bunch of flowers. Your mouth threatens to grow into a smile, teeth sinking into your lips at the outlandish sight of him struggling to completely conceal the massive bouquet from your sight. The sharp pinch of your fingertips on his shoulder snatches Gojo from his frantic thoughts.

“Is this your way of apologizing again?”

“No!,” is his instant reply, startling you until Gojo averts his gaze to the concrete. “I mean...yeah. You ruined the surprise.”

This interaction feels more routine, less delicate. The way his lips jut out in a pout, his teasing banter. Crossing arms over your chest, you give Gojo an unamused look. “Ummm, it’s huge. How did you plan on hiding that from me?”

“…”

Satoru thinks his heart stutters as you hold out your arms, hands gesturing for the bouquet, and he slowly reveals the assortment of flowers behind his back. Through his panicked, rushed efforts to hide them, the paper has torn, some of the flowers are missing petals, and some aren’t in the exact position he and Suguru had so meticulously arranged them.

“Dumbass.,” you huff, wrapping fingers around the stems, which are adorned with a crinkly, cream colored paper and a dark green bow. “I’m still mad with you.”

Satoru’s breath hitches as your fingers brush his, as if it's the first time he's ever touched you. He relinquishes hold of the bouquet. “You like ‘em, though? Don’t lie, I can tell.”

“Just shut up.”

He flashes you a toothy, boyish grin, one that makes your heart beat a little faster. “It’s all for you, my pretty Y/N.”

Eyes rolling, you intently study the bouquet, raising it to hide your flustered expression. A warmth creeps over your body at the way Satoru utters your name, like if he says it too loudly, it will break apart into glass pieces. The paper creases under your restless fingers.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

The flowers are striking, but Gojo doesn’t think they compare at all to your beauty. Blue eyes admire you, at the way you marvel over the bunch of sunflowers, beaming at how fresh and vibrant and downright captivating they are. You glance up to meet Satoru’s eye, and he rubs at the back of his neck.

“So, uh,” he starts, avoiding your gaze. “I’m sorry about what I said. Really didn’t mean to upset you that much.”

Your eyes narrow. “That much?”

“Well, you know you’re really hot when you’re mad, but I didn’t mean to do that–“

“And did I look hot then?”

“No! Well, you weren’t ugly, but I didn’t like seeing you so upset–, usually it’s a turn on when you’re all angry but it felt different that time and Suguru didn’t tell me until later you were having a super rough day so I figured I might have hit a nerve–“

You cradle the bouquet to your chest, thoroughly enjoying the clumsy flow of his words, determined not to dig himself a deeper hole or upset you all over again. His lips pause, and then Gojo interrupts another sentence with a new one, before the downturn of his brows as he catches your gleaming eyes.

“My point is that I’m sorry.” He spots the twitch of your frown. “I know you wanna smile, let me see it.”

You can’t help but grin as your mouth opens. “No I don’t. And I guess you’re forgiven, now get away from me so I can enjoy my bouquet in peace.”

“Wait, that’s not it!” Before you turn away, Satoru reaches into his back pocket to pull out a small, white, silk bag with a white ribbon securing the opening. “I got this too. Here.”

You recognize the design of the tiny sack from a rather expensive jewelry store, one you could only dream of buying from. And now here you were, in possession of something from that same store, mouth gaping open as Satoru snickers.

“You just gonna stare, baby, or…?”

The fabric of the bag is soft in your hands, smooth and easy on your fingers. Hugging the bouquet to your side, the ribbon loosens to reveal a dainty, silver necklace inside, adorned with a small, heart charm engraved with your initials.

“Oh, wow . .” You’re awestruck at how delicate and pretty it looks. Turning it over, you find a “G.S” on the other side of the heart. “And Suguru’s initials on the back? How sweet.”

“Don’t play.”

“Whatever.,” you giggle at his downturned lips. “It’s very nice, I like it.”

Satoru can’t help pat himself on the back. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Cost a hefty chunk of change, especially since I wanted it so quick and on such short notice–“

“Uh huh.” This big dummy. Your smile grows at the thought.

“–and you know I just had to get the best for my pretty girl, plus I got kinda hard at the thought of my initials on your chest–“

Gojo’s words catch in his throat at the soft press of your lips to his cheek. Blood shoots to his face, instantly, and you can’t help bursting into a round of giggles, barely gasping out ‘you look like a strawberry!’. He’s so embarrassed that the realization that you willingly kissed him of your own accord doesn’t even register. All Satoru feels is a burning heat on his cheeks and a tightness in his chest, desire squeezing a fist around his heart as you smirk up at him through a fit of laughter.

“You are really somethin’ else. Bye, Satoru, also learn to stop talking sometimes.”

All Gojo can do is wave as you depart, leaving you with a ‘see ya, princess’ as you disappear into the building, sparing him one last glance. His phone vibrates as you leave his line of sight, announcing a text from Suguru.

asshole🤮: you give it to her yet?

s: i thought the sleeping beauty was getting a nap in?

asshole🤮: she told you to fuck off, didn’t she?

s: stfu

[jobean12-blog]

That's the Way Love Grows

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Beefy!Plant dad!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,687

Summary: You and Bucky have your first official date this weekend but he can't wait to see you so he shows up at your apartment on his bike...a dream come true.

Author's Note: Missed him so I wanted to write a little something with plant!dad Bucky again! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰 You can see the shirt he is wearing HERE.

This is part of my plant!dad Bucky AU. It can be read alone but here are the first two stories for him:

Rooted in Love

Love in Bloom

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff and plant talk

‘Hey doll face. What are you doin’ right now?’

The moment you see his name your whole face lights up just like the screen of your phone.

‘Just being lazy.’  You reply and send him silly emoji’s to go along with your text.

‘Well….’

The next message comes through and you wait, staring at the text bubbles for what feels like an eternity.

‘I’m outside your building.’

You drop your phone and run to the window, pushing the curtain aside and looking through the glass.

He’s leaning against his motorcycle, long legs crossed over the ankle and his leather jacket pulled tightly around his biceps.

His fingers twinkle with a wave.

You open the window.

“You wanna go for a ride?” he yells up.

You stare at him for a beat, trying to sear the image into your brain and then answer back with, “yeah I do!”

You don’t even have to think twice about it.  

He whoops and throws a fist in the air.

“Make sure you wear jeans and a jacket doll.”

A few minutes later you appear at the double doors of your apartment building. Bucky rushes over and pulls one open, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you.

“You look gorgeous.”

Your thank you is lost when he steps into your space and drags you into his chest, kissing you hard and fast.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he pulls away.

“For what,” you whisper, leaning into him.

You toy with the zipper of his leather jacket and then slowly pull it down, spreading the sides open to look at his shirt.

“I had to see if you had another funny plant shirt on,” you giggle.

You smooth your hands over his chest, mostly just so you can feel the hard muscle beneath, but also so you can read the print on the fabric better.

“Things I do in my spare time…” you start. “Water plants,” and you press your finger to the first picture of a potted plant on his shirt. “Repot plants, propagate plants, buy plants, rearrange plants…” Each time you read it’s with a press of your finger and as you get closer to his abs he starts to laugh.

“I’m kinda ticklish,” he admits.

You pay him no mind and take extra care to wiggle your finger over the last picture and it’s text.  

“Talk with plants,” you finish with a smile. “That one is my favorite.”

He smirks and slides his arm across your shoulders, walking you toward his bike.

“Speaking of plants…” he hums. “There’s something I…”

As you get closer to the motorcycle you press a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Wait.”

Your words make him swallow hard.

“Our date isn’t until Saturday,” you say quietly. “Are we still on…or?”

His brows draw together and he crushes you against him. “Doll…”

He kisses you again, slow and sweet this time but it steals your breath just the same.

“I know we have our date this weekend, but the moment I left your apartment the other day, all I wanted was to see you again. I couldn’t wait any more. So I thought we could go for a ride.”

His confession makes you melt further into him.

“Ok,” you breathe out. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

He takes your hand and pulls you the rest of the way to his bike, holding up a finger as he turns to his saddle bag and opens it.

“I have something for you,” he says.

He takes out a small bag and reaches inside it. When his hand reemerges he’s holding a small potted plant.

Your smile grows as he begins to explain what it is.

“It’s from my jasmine plant. I repotted this piece in one of the cat planters I got from Etsy…thought you would like it.”

He starts to look slightly shy, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as his eyes fall to the plant.

“Bucky,” you squeal. “It’s amazing! And so cute! I love him!”

“Phew,” he laughs. “And don’t worry I can help you take care of him.”

“Ok good, because I know jasmine smells beautiful and I’d love to have one in my apartment.”

With one more quick kiss he places the plant back in the secure bag.

“Should I bring him up?” you ask. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I always carry my smaller plants on my bike. As long as you position and secure them right, it’s fine.”

With a lopsided grin he kisses your cheek then grabs his helmet.

Lifting it up he carefully places it on your head and buckles the chin strap.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “I won’t go too fast.”

With that he grabs the zipper of your jacket and pulls it up to your chin then throws one leg over his bike with an easy swing.

He holds his hand out to help you on the back and you immediately wrap your arms around his chest and press yourself into his back.

“Hang on,” he says, “and if anything is wrong just give me two squeezes.”

You nod into the soft leather of his jacket and hang on tight.

He revs the engine and pulls away from the curb, being mindful about his speed and remembering that you’re putting full trust in him to keep you safe.

He’s in complete control and the ride is smooth as he traverses the curves of the streets until the Brooklyn Bridge lights up the night sky as it comes into view.

The smell of salty air hits your face as you get nearer to the ocean and when he slows down and rolls into a darkened spot under the bridge you can hear the water break against the rocks.

He shuts the engine and plants his feet on either side of the bike and then reaches down to tap your leg, signaling you to get off.

With careful movements you put one foot on the ground and do an awkward hop to get your other leg up and over the seat without hitting him in the back.

You manage not to hit him but your legs are slightly wobbly, still vibrating from the ride and your knee buckles.

“Eeeek,” you screech, the sound echoing under the bridge and causing some hidden pigeons to squawk and flap away to a safer spot.

Your fists grab handfuls of air but Bucky somehow manages to dive and catch you around the waist with his metal arm.

“You okay?” he asks, his grip tight.

He waits, staring at you with concern in his eyes.

“I’m good,” you say on an exhale.

He relaxes slightly and releases you to adjust the handlebars and put down the kickstand. Once the bike is secured he gets off gracefully and helps you out of his helmet.

You look around and smile. “This is an amazing spot.”

“Isn’t it,” he echoes. “Just lemme get a blanket.”

He opens the saddle bag and sifts through it.

“Can you please check if my plant is ok?” you ask, smiling sweetly when he winks at you.

“Just fine doll,” he tells you after he shines his phone light into the bag. “Now come ‘ere.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to a clearing closer to edge of the water.

“Careful here, watch your step.”

He assures your footing with a firm hand at your back and once you’re settled on the blanket he follows and makes himself comfortable.

“Thank you for comin’ with me tonight doll.”

“Thank you for asking me. It’s beautiful here.”

You look out over the water, the city lights shining like diamonds across the vast blackness and dancing along the small waves.

“Yeah it really is,” he murmurs.

You can feel his eyes on you and realize that he’s complimenting you instead of the stellar view.

A small laugh bubbles up in your chest. “Have you used that move before?”

He drops his chin to his chest and chuckles. “Aw man. I haven’t but it’s that bad huh?”

You run your fingers along a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his face before tucking it behind his ear.

“Not bad at all. In fact I think you’re really sweet.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I think you’re perfect.”

His hand reaches out to trace your lips, the pad of his thumb rough against their softness and once he’s relished in their flawlessness he slides his hand along your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

The small space between you disappears and you press your lips to his. Your hands weave into his hair and you gasp out his name, the sound igniting him. His tongue slips past your lips but he takes his time, teasing and nipping even as he tastes you.

He pulls you closer, sliding you into his lap and smoothing his free hand up your back.

The shock of bright lights shines through your closed eyelids and you jump in surprise, breaking the kiss. You lay your hand over your squinting eyes as Bucky looks over his shoulder, hissing at the brightness.

The car stops for a moment, the headlights boring into your small hidden space, and then thankfully it turns back to the street and drives off, returning you once again to the quiet of the night and the sounds of the ocean.

Bucky turns back to you, your eyes meeting.

“Hey,” he whispers as he traces the curve of your jaw.

“Hi,” you answer before peppering his scruffy cheek with kisses.

When your gaze finds his again he asks, “will you watch the sunrise with me?”

You nod and then wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling against his shoulder and breathing him in. A breeze blows over the water, carrying the chill of night and you shiver in his arms. He tucks you closer and grabs the blanket to wrap it around you both.

“I promise I’ll keep you warm,” he whispers as his head dips and he brushes his lips to yours.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814

[sequinsmile-x]

Flourish

/flur-ish/ verb

to develop rapidly and successfully.

Emily and Aaron have twins.

A one shot in my series of unrelated kissing prompt fics

-x-

Hi besties,

Hope you are all okay <3

This is...just very soft. Like these idiots love each other so much, and I thought we all deserved some softness on this Sunday night!

If you want to submit one of these prompts, the list is linked in the first chapter of the 'Tattoo Kiss' fic.

This fic is the 'belly kisses' prompt.

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 3.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was freaking out. 

She didn’t freak out, not normally. Usually, she could hold it together, could compartmentalise her feelings and work through them but this time she couldn’t, all of her anxiety and fear and joy swirling in her gut as she looks at the ultrasound in her hand. Twin A and Twin B marked out with small, life-changing, text that the ultrasound technician had added for them so they knew what they were looking at. 

Twins. She was pregnant with twins. 

They’d been trying for a while, just long enough that the shine had been taken off it. Sex had started to feel a little regimented and every negative test broke her heart a little more. When she finally found herself staring at a positive pregnancy test it was a type of happiness she had never felt before. Overwhelming and all encompassing as she literally burst into tears in their ensuite, the sound of her sobs drawing her husband in from where he was standing on the other side of the door, his arms open and eyes soft as he prepared to comfort her just like he had for months. She’d had to hand him the test, the words I’m pregnant stuck in her throat, held in place by emotions she couldn’t name, and she’d collapsed against him, safe and warm in his embrace as he held her tight and told her how much he loved her. 

They had an early scan, something to soothe the anxiety that had almost immediately replaced the joy she’d felt the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, everything that could go wrong suddenly heavy on her chest, making it hard to breathe. A feeling that hadn’t been helped when the ultrasound tech had a momentary reaction, a flash of something across her face that Aaron had caught too, making him squeeze her hand a little tighter. She’d smiled at them immediately afterwards as she turned the screen to face them, pointing at two separate black dots as she announced they were having twins. 

Emily blows out a shaky breath and looks at Aaron asleep on his side of the bed, entirely unsure how he could be sleeping when they’d had such life-changing news. She knows the irritation she feels is unfounded, that he doesn’t deserve it, but it burns through her veins anyway, pushing her to shake his shoulder and wake him up before she can stop herself. 

“Wha-” he chokes out, his voice rough as he blinks and looks at her, “Is everything okay?” 

“How can you ask me that?” She seethes, her words forced through her teeth, “We’re having twins. There are two babies inside of me.” 

He groans, still mostly asleep, his face still pressed into his pillow, “You’re freaking out.” 

“I’m not freaking out,” she replies, even though she knew she was, “I just can’t stop thinking about it. We’re having twins Aaron. We’ll have two newborns at once. I want to exclusively breastfeed, how am I supposed to do that when there are two babies crying at the same time.” 

“You have two breasts,” he says without thinking, his mind still cloudy with sleep and the nice dream he’d been having. 

“What?” 

The warning tone in her voice, the fire flicking in her expression when he looks up at her through half-open eyes finally wakes him up. He sits up, shaking his head and clearing his throat, “Sorry,” he says, reaching out for her hand, “I’m awake,” he adds, more for himself than her, and he leans in to kiss her cheek, “What can I do to help?” He tucks some of her hair behind her ear, letting his touch linger on her cheekbone, “It’s not like you to freak out, sweetheart.” 

She almost says she’s not freaking out again but the denial dies on her tongue, and she sighs, shaking her head at herself as she feels tears she knows she has to get used to burning at the back of her eyes, “I…I don’t know,” she swallows thickly, “I’m so happy, I love them both already,” she says, placing her hand on her still flat belly, “It’s like I have everything I ever wanted and more but…now I don’t know what to do.” 

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her against his side. He kisses the top of her head when she tucks it under his chin, seeking out the comfort she always found somewhere between his heart and his collarbone, “Em, we have plenty of time to figure everything out, okay?” he says, placing his hand over hers on her belly, “You’re only 6 weeks along, the doctor said it’s very likely we’ll get you to at least 36 weeks before you deliver,” he kisses the side of her head again, “We have time to figure everything out,” he repeats, pulling back to look at her, “And you know what else?” 

She sighs, vaguely annoyed that he’d already calmed her down a little, the hold he had over her something no one else had ever had, “What?” 

“I’ll be here every step of the way,” he says, shifting so there is more space between them, half laying down so his head is level with her stomach. He presses a kiss on her belly, smiling when she presses her lips together to try to contain her smile, “I’ll be here to help whilst you’re pregnant, I’ll go get whatever random food you’re craving in the middle of the night, I’ll rub your feet,” he smiles up at her, “And then when they are here I’ll be here too, holding one of them whilst you feed the other,” he kisses her palm when she cups his cheek, “We’ll figure it all out together, sweetheart. Every bit of it.” 

She smiles at him and runs her fingers through his hair, impossibly more in love with him than she ever had been, “That sounds perfect,” she says, her smile getting wider, “There’s just one thing.” 

He furrows his brow, “What?” 

“You only gave one of them a kiss,” she says, nodding down towards her stomach. He smiles and leans in to kiss her belly again, making a point of kissing the other side. She holds him in place for a moment, allowing herself to sink into the joy of it all, a feeling that is chased by guilt for waking him up in the first place, “Sorry I woke you up.” 

He looks up at her and shakes his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. I’ll always wake up for you.” 

___

She grumbles as she tries to get comfortable, the cushion Aaron had placed behind her back doing little to relieve the ache in it. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks, breaking his conversation with Dave the moment he realises she’s uncomfortable, all of his focus immediately on her. She smiles, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment because she knows the team is looking at them, the separate conversations that they’d split into in Dave’s living room quietening down as they pretend not to listen in. She wondered when they’d stop treating them like a sideshow at a circus, when whatever it was about their relationship they found so fascinating would fade.

She knew on some level it was their fault. They were both fiercely private people independently, so they’d naturally fallen into keeping their relationship private. They both treasured it, and wanted to keep it as much for them and their family as possible, because they had so little that was just theirs. The team, their friends, only got snapshots of them as a couple. Surface level insights into their relationship with the odd rare deeper moments like on their wedding day,  everything they felt for each other so big and all encompassing they couldn’t have hidden it if they’d wanted to. Usually, all their friends would get to see were the small moments. They’d see Aaron’s arm around her shoulders when they all spent time together like this, or a kiss she’d idly press to his cheek. The almost constant touches they exchanged outside of Quantico were all they had access to, everything else - the way they looked after each other, the way they loved each other - was just theirs. 

“I’m okay,” she says, pretending she can’t feel her friend’s gazes burning into her side, “Just uncomfortable.” 

“Want to go home?” 

She shakes her head at him, her smile soft, “I’m not going to be any less pregnant there, honey,” she says, resting her hand on her bump, her smile getting wider when one of the babies shifts beneath her palm, “Plus, Dave hasn’t brought out dessert yet.” 

Dave chuckles, “Subtle, Bella.”

She looks at him and raises her eyebrow, “I wasn’t trying to be subtle, I think it’s illegal to withhold dessert from a pregnant woman.” 

“It is,” JJ says, smiling when Emily looks over at her, “How was your appointment today?” 

“It was good,” she replies, linking her hand through Aaron’s, “Both of them are looking great,” she smiles as she thinks of the scan she’d had earlier that day. She’d been nervous, anxious in a way she hadn’t felt in weeks because it was her 20 week appointment. She’d spent the entire time entirely too full of baby and the water she’d had to drink beforehand, holding her breath just in case they were told something was wrong. She’d focused on the images of her babies on the screen, how one of them was sucking their thumb and the other kept kicking Emily’s ribs, something that had made Aaron joke that their personalities were already showing. 

He’d been her rock throughout the appointment, just like he had been ever since that first night when she’d woken him up in what she refused to call a panic. Any anxieties he may have about how much they were growing their family in one go pushed away as he helped her through hers, his love and assurances providing a solid ground when her own foundations felt shaky beneath her feet. He kissed her belly whenever he could, always making sure to do it twice - once for each baby - and she loved it. Loved when he’d bend down to press his lips against her bare skin in the morning, any frustration she felt as she stood in their closet looking for something to wear that would fit melting away as soon as he did it. She’d wake up to him doing it sometimes, his lips against her forehead and then her bump as he wished them all goodnight, slipping into bed behind her afterwards, unaware he’d woken her up at all. 

She knew she’d miss it when the babies were here, a type of intimacy that would fade away when their children were in their arms. Kisses shifting from stretched out skin to plump cheeks and sweet-smelling foreheads.  She couldn’t wait, an ache to know her children, to see their faces, already deep in her bones, but she’d miss this. How pregnancy had changed her relationship with her husband for the better - his reverence for her as she carried his children something she could never have imagined. 

“Actually,” she says, looking up at Aaron, smiling when he nods subtly, confirming that he was happy for her to share their news, “We found out what we’re having.” 

Penelope gasps, her hand over her heart, “You did? I thought you said you’d wanted the surprise when you gave birth?” 

Emily chuckles at the memory of a conversation they’d had at her bachelorette. When she was four margaritas deep and the idea of having children with Aaron was nothing more than hope that fizzed under her skin, “Finding out I’m having more than one was surprise enough for this pregnancy.” 

“Well tell us then, Princess,” Derek says, trying to hide that he wasn’t excited, his practised attempt at being aloof not fooling anyone.

She feels Aaron squeeze her hand and she squeezes back, their joy passing from palm to palm, “We’re having a boy and a girl.” 

“One of each?” Penelope asks, practically vibrating with excitement. She squeals when Emily nods, “Oh my god I am going to buy the cutest outfits.” 

“Boy-girl twins are actually the most common type of fraternal twins, with as many as 50% of twin pregnancies having that combination,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowing as everyone looks at him, amused smiles painted across their faces. He jumps when Derek pats his shoulder, squeezing it as he laughs. 

“I think that’s boy genius’s way of saying he’s happy for you guys.” 

Conversation slips into discussions about names, something that Aaron and Emily purposely stay tight-lipped about, the decisions they’d already made a secret until the babies were born. Eventually, she turns to Aaron, smiling when she catches his eye. 

“Do you think you could get me some of that dessert?” She says, purposely loud enough for Dave to hear. 

“Okay, Bella,” Dave says as he stands up, “Let’s make sure you, Mini Prentiss and Mini Hotch get a cannoli-”

“Cannolis,” she corrects, raising her eyebrow at him, “I’m eating for three.” 

Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead before he stands up too, “I’ll help you, Dave,” he winks at his wife, “Make sure everyone gets the right amount.” 

“My hero,” she quips, and he smiles at her and stamps a kiss against his fingertips before he presses them to her bump twice, each time in a place where they knew each of the babies were safely tucked up inside of her. It makes her beam at him, and she’s once again overwhelmed by how much he loves her, how much he loves them. A moment they could share in front of their friends, a brief touch of home. She smiles as Aaron and Dave leave the room, and she catches Derek’s smirk from the corner of her eye, the same teasing look on his face he’d always get if he saw a more tender moment between them than usual. She narrows her eyes at him, “Shut up, Derek.” 

He scoffs, his hand pressed against his chest in mock shock, “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

___

She can’t stop staring at them. 

She’s sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, one hand on each of the twins, Lucas and Mae, who were both fast asleep in their bassinets, worn out from the stress of being born. She was almost desperate for them to wake up, to hold them again as she had for hours since they’d been born. Any fear she’d had dissipated by the feel of one twin tucked up in each arm, Aaron sat behind her to provide support. 

“We did it, babies,” she whispers, reaching out to stroke Mae’s cheek and readjust the hat on Lucas’s head, “We did it.” 

She’d made it to 37 weeks before her doctor decided it was time for her to be induced. She’d wanted to try to give birth without a c-section, more than aware there was a chance it could end up being a necessity. She’d done it though, with no small amount of drama after the doctor had to help turn Mae after Lucas was born just a few minutes before his sister. It had hurt, her jaw clenched as she buried her face in Aaron’s neck as her body was manipulated to allow their daughter to be born safely. He’d held her tightly, tears she’s sure he thought she’d missed at seeing her in so much pain slipping down his cheeks into her hair. 

She’d do it all again though. Every second of anxiety and pain and discomfort she’d felt over the last few months. It was all worth it for them. 

She looks up when she hears the door open and smiles when her eyes meet her husband’s, “Did Jack get off okay?” 

He nods as he closes the door quietly behind him to make sure he doesn’t wake up the babies, “He was talking Jess’s ear off about his new brother and sister. He asked if he could come see them again tomorrow.” 

She smiles at that, resting her head against Aaron’s shoulder when he joins her on the bed, careful to make sure he doesn’t jostle her, “Of course, he can,” she says, her eyes fixed on Lucas and Mae, “I miss him. Hopefully, we’ll get to go home the day after that.” 

Aaron kisses her forehead, “I can’t wait to take them home.” 

“Me neither,” she says, turning her head to look at him, their smiles soft and exhausted, “Is it insane that I miss them?” She asks, turning to look at the babies again, both fast asleep and content, “They’re right here but…it’s the furthest I’ve ever been from them.” 

“Not at all,” he assures her, “You’re their mom,” he smiles when she beams at that, the title mom still something that brought her joy even though Jack had called her that for months, “Are you okay?” He asks, skimming his hand up and down her back, “Do you need help with anything?” 

“I actually need help to the bathroom if that’s okay,” she says, “I’m not sure I could walk that far without help.” She’s sure she would have once been embarrassed by the request, but she no longer felt like that around him about anything. He was an extension of her just like she was one of him. They were part of each other and always would be. 

“Of course,” he says, standing up and offering her a hand, squeezing it when she winces as she stands up. He loops his arm around her shoulders and lets her set the pace as they walk the short distance to the bathroom, “You just had two of my children. You get everything you want forever.” 

She laughs and squeezes his hand, “You’re sweet,” she turns her head and kisses his jaw, not letting go of his hand as they walk into the bathroom, the door left wide open in case one of the babies cries. She smiles gratefully when she doesn’t even have to ask him to help pull down the diaper she is in and lower her down onto the toilet, “Remember when you used to help me onto the kitchen counter so we could have sex?” 

He chuckles at the joke and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I think this is better.” 

She smiles and shakes her head at him, “I think it is too.” 

When she’s done, he helps her back up and towards the bed. He stops her just a few paces from it, stamping a kiss against her furrowed brow before he crouches and stamps two kisses against her belly, his smile wide and eyes shining as he looks up at her. She runs her fingers through his hair, her head tilted in curiosity as love fills her lungs and makes it hard to breathe. 

“They aren’t even in there anymore,” she says, sniffing as she tries to hold back tears, squeezing his hand when he stands up straight again, his hands on her waist as he holds her steady. 

“It was never just about them, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her cheek before he continues to help her towards the bed, “It’s about you too. And everything you’ve done for our family.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches on a sob and she shakes her head at him, “I love you so much.” It feels like everything she wants to say but also not enough, everything she felt for him, for their family, trapped in her chest and she just hopes he knows how much he means to her. 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her as he helps her sit on the bed, his arm around her as he arranges the starchy sheets around her, “So much.” 

Any other conversation is cut off as Mae cries, shortly followed by Lucas, and Aaron smiles at Emily as he picks up their daughter and hands her over before he settles their son against his chest. “Duty calls.” 

She smiles and lifts Mae to kiss her forehead, breathing in the smell of her as she looks up at Aaron, her smile turning into a smirk, “I can’t believe you ever thought we wouldn’t be able to do this.”

He laughs as he thinks of the day they found out they were having twins, how she’d woken him up in the middle of the night freaking out over what their life would look like with two tiny babies. He shakes his head at her and leans in to kiss her, his response pressed against her lips. 

“Yeah,” he says, kissing her again, “Silly me.” 

[koiifiishy]

back with more eris doodlings :-) ! and more under the cut

i've decided that if he had a title like the named npcs, he'd be Eris The Defiant. also decided that if he were a npc LI with a toggable gender changer, he'd look pretty much the same as a girl just with a few cups up in the chest dept. lol - he's also still be trans, so you either get transmasc or transfemme eris, there is no cis option.

going off of this post for heights! (too lazy to draw an entirely new img - just scribbled over the height comparison models -w-) a full line up + eris amongst the taller LI's (...of whom he's already met / has interacted with in game thus far!). he's just one inch smaller than kylar haha, which im sure kylar would love. avery with eris though is LOL (stares at the other three on that height list......... that height diff... hes getting FOLDED. . .)

this chart is very messy so bear with me & the yellow i used is hard to read so ill type it out too!

Robin

mutual besties. they're basically brothers! except that robin left his confession note for eris and eris is uh.. willfully ignoring it,,, sorry robin he's not gonna take you up on that (yet lol)

img text: "if anything happens to robin (again) i'll kill everyone in this town and then myself"

Sydney

what is it about this unassuming churchboy that calls to eris... he doesnt know,, but sydney makes him happy 🥺!!

unintentionally uuuh reduing sydney's purity by being horny at him. theyre promised ok?! its fine right?!? especially bc of the fucking SLOW BURN they went through omg...

img text: "he makes this shit town bearable. BF" sydnet img text: "really adores and admires him. BF"

Kylar

um. well. your honor, he's just misunderstood..! eris kinda feeds into kylar's IssuesTM by not dissuading him. he just feels kinda sorry for him,,! this opinion Will change if/when kylar finally gets his greasy little paws on eris

he 100% realizes kylar is unhinged and the plushie gift was probs bugged somehow. still accepted it but like... he's hardly home anyway so w/e. still holds onto hope kylar can change(???)

img text: "haha. i'm in danger :^)" kylar's img text: "HAVE MY FUCKING BABIES" lol

Whitney

literally beat the shit out of each other every time they were in close proximity for like a month, until whitney's dominance meter dropped a lot. he confuses eris... does he like. have a crush and is acting like an elementary kid about it??? use your words damnit!

despite it all... doesnt hate him. eris feels like theyre probably a lot more similar than whitney's letting him (or anyone) see. sydney's mention of whitney having things going on to make him act like a little shit stuck with eris. . .

img text: "stop giving mixed messages whitney!"

Avery

the most cut and dry of them: it's just a transactional sugar relationship. except the part about the elk/fox bullshit? hello?? mr avery??? WHAT WAS THAT AVERY--?????

eris really doesnt trust avery,,, but he pays him a LOT & eris has two whole debts to pay off;; avery is only allowed to hit it from the back. . . (thanks temple for not counting that as sex ig lol!)

im iffy on the designs ive drawn for them too, i mostly have been going off of what i see the general fandom draws! theres a lot of really nice designs :> im being mindful not to fully copy anyone tho.

i also went insane and made eris a playlist - it has a lot of metal/loud songs jsyk! remains of us was specifically put on the playlist for sydney 🥹 just recently had my first run in with the ivory wraith too =D AH. TRAUMAS OBTAINED!!! very much eris' top trauma event so far!! he's resilient... so he's on the road to recovery but boy was that RUFF. robin and sydney came in super clutch with comforting him tho :")

one last thing for you all:

eris core lol

[arcadekitten]

Hello Arcadekitten!!! I read the Stellamb wedding post(s) and it got me wondering about how Stella’s wedding dress would look like… I absolutely love Sweet No Death, so I knew I had to make some artwork of it!! And, because I absolutely suck at explaining things through text, here is my interpretation of Stella’s wedding outfit in traditional art! ✨💫🌟

Materials Used: Mixed Media Paper, Ink Fineliner Pens, Alcohol Markers Gel Pens, Paint Pens, Highlighter and Mechanical Pencil

Time Took: 1 week

I don’t know if you’re okay with people sending fanarts and stuff to you, but I absolutely love your work and well, I’m quite proud of this piece (even if I probably shouldn’t be lol) as I worked extremely hard on this and wanted to share it with you! I hope that’s okay ❤️

A little artist “#Deep Dive tm” because I put WAY too much effort into the tiniest details and I am NOT gonna let them get overlooked 😤 /jk

-Stella’s dress is made with her signature colors rather than white, because I felt that with her being a Star Witch and all, a species that mostly has extravagantly colorful clothes (in my humble opinion) she felt that just going with plain white on what is possibly the most important day of her life would feel… well, a bit redundant, so she opted for a more ‘colored’ ballgown, with lacy gloves and a pearled veil and all. The local tailor and dressmaker is a bit confused, but Lambchop is definitely not complaining! ;) 💕💓

-(Well, that, and I also felt that the color blended WAY too much with her skin tone and changed it, but that’s my little secret hehe 👀😉)

-In my mind, Stella can make her hair look like it has a small galaxy within it! With actual moving stars and little twinkling lights. ✨💫✨⭐️🌟I think that she usually saves it for special, grandiose occasions, buuut since she’s not the kind of person who would THROW a grand, special occasion, she never unveiled it before her wedding day! (Poor Lambchop’s heart nearly gave out on the spot right then and there! 😭❤️)

-I didn’t add her usual Star hair clip because she already has like… 10 stars in her design already lmao /lh ⭐️

-As you can see, her bouquet’s… cloth? Fabric? I’m not sure what to call it… thing? The stuff that her flowers are wrapped in are Lambchop’s colors! Thought that it would be a neat visual detail… also, I can totally imagine Stella requesting that specific color scheme from the local florist! 💐🌷🌸

-Speaking of flowers… I decided to color in one of the moon daisies a little bit… differently hehe ;) It’s a small reference to the beginning of the game, where we see Stella change the color of the one rebellious moon daisy, from orange to lavender, except this time… she keeps it and uses it in her bouquet! 💖💗

-I like to think that it symbolizes Lambchop versus the rest of the townspeople… and Stella’s way of acknowledging him as a “real person”, at least compared to the others… one who is different, one who is unique… the one that she’s going to marry 💍🩷

-(it’s so absolutely sappy when she tells him so that he just couldn’t resist kissing her right then and there)

-And finally… (this is the last one I promise) I cut out the entire drawing to make it look like a potion bottle, partially because Stella is a witch, and partially because I had this cute lil idea that she stores all of her happiest memories into a magical bottle and takes it out whenever she feels sad, so that she can ‘experience’ it again and feel happier. Of course, with Lambchop by her side, she never really has to use it!💞🩷💗

-And yes, I also made the bottle have Lambchop colors as well 🐏 Just a nice little thing tying em together more visually… ❤️

…And I am SO SORRY for ranting!!! I worked incredibly hard on this piece (traditional art is NOT my strong suit, lol) but I wanted to make something special for one of my favorite games and one of my favorite game devs! So here it is, and I hope that you like it! 🤞❤️😁

(P.S: Any ideas for Lambchop’s wedding design?)

Oh my goodness this is BEAUTIFUL!! The artwork itself is just stunning!! You took so much time on it and it really shows, especially with all your attention to detail in it(and I LOVE hearing your explanations for some of the choices you made!! They're just so darling!) Everything about this is stellar and I'm in love with it, thank you so much!! ♡ ♡ ♡

Also I TOTALLY AGREE Stella would not wear white for her wedding!! Color all the way!! ♡

As for Lambchop's outfit...I think I've got it envisioned in my head but I haven't quite drawn anything for it yet! Top hat, definitely. I think his suit isn't black. Probably brown! Bowtie on the neck. His pants are more like shorts and are cut juuuuust above the knee! Still wearing long socks with garters. He looks incredibly dapper--as he should!! It's his wedding!

Hopefully he at least looks good for the photos before he decides to get any mysterious red stains on his outfit. (It's fine. Stella could clean them with the snap of her fingers, but still!)

[rin-and-jade]

Im so happy to see you taking a break and I hope the break is very nice!

I understand there might be a delay in responses but thats okay, please take your time your health is more important !!

Be prepared for a huge wall of text so sorry in advance-

But, i have a few things im just itching to ask gahhh

Firstly, we originally believed we had little to no amnesia (believing osdd-1b) BUT since then we realised the amnesia is so much heavier than we realised, we figured bc we could recall general events and it was calm in a sense (we saw majority of the time when people experience amnesia its distressing and the loss of all memory) but, the memories are not memorying, so now we are assuming just DID, and that brings me to the second part...

fragments and subsystems, so, idk how valid this is (mostly bc my assumptions are based off vibes/gut instinct) but im fairly sure a subsystem occurred a few months back from a split where that alter just disappeared, which is unusual from what we have documented from the past 1.5 years (most splits the alter detaches from the stressor and those stressors mould a new alter to deal with it in a sense-) so from the recent odd split i believe a subsys was created as such? i have no clue except the vibes, in which it feels like a bunch of fragments in a sense? like i believe ive been fronting for months on my own for now, but there are some parts of my days where i just blank anything that happened, so im curious if there is-

and its not the only time as such where we have had this dreaded gut feeling there were more parts that might be dormant or even very separate, or even parts we dont even notice due to the nature of disorder being a whole lot of forgetting and the disorder pretending to not be the disorder and stuff ;-;

im so sorry for the huge rambles, if you have any advice or explanations or even resources i can read through to draw my own conclusions that would be so cool, bc as of right now im so scared to say this as i feel like im actually faking it for attention and theres no way i was traumatised enough for this and yadayada

tldr: should i trust my 'gut instincts' about system related information, or is my brain being silly?

I don't see the point on invalidating instincts, they're subconscious pattern detectors, so if you feel off, you bet it IS off. Though it's healthy to back it up with evidence preferably, and if there's no evidence yet, then you prowl like a predator in attempt to search for the truth scroll... cough--with a help from me whenever you need it, i mean im not going anywhere.

Also, you can check wether you have did or osdd by jotting down logs or patterns wether: you're memorying more or memorying less, the things you forgot, how often do you find yourself black/greying out, how distinct your personalities are, and wether you can easily remember other part's memories or able to grasp another facet of yourself (if you do not, or is really hard too, im sure this is 'did' from first impression)

--

Right, and for the advices, further explanations, or even resources are all answered by my previous edu posts where its compiled in the #jeducates tag,, i'd love you to just swim in it and process all my information like a sponge.. and come back the second time with more specific questions if you still need confirmation or assurances.

Let me know how it went, i'll be waiting for ya's update!

- c

[dyouevendraw]

About me

So, I thought I’d probably be best to just make a pinned post with some info so I’m not just a void who throws art a a wall. (I’m probably gonna edit as things change) But here we go:

My tiktok is dyoueven

My instagram is dyouevendraw

My name is D, sometimes people still call me Fay, I don’t mind that either

I’m 22 years old

I use they/them pronouns, I’m fine with he/him too. I’d call myself nonbinary or even agender, leaning towards the masc side. It’s a struggle

Additionally to that, I am ace and my romantic attraction is 🤷🏼. I like androgyny and femininity if that says anything lmao

I have a hypermobilty condition, thus, my physical health is very inconsistent. Sometimes I feel fine for weeks, sometimes I can barely move my arms. Luckily, I don’t dislocate easily, I mostly get joint pain, pinched nerves, random bruises and badly healing wounds. Additionally, I seem to have a mild variant of long covid, which is making my lungs weak, so sometimes physical activities winds me badly even though it’s not hard work.

I am autistic and only found out around 2 years ago, thus, school burned me out! I was bullied by my teachers and they ignored all the signs of a struggling student, so I developed bad social anxiety (added by other events with former friends and general genetics probably). I took a year off of art to focus on getting a better mindset, and I guess I’ve been back since this year.

I am a clumsy and unlucky person, that’s why I say I am like Xie Lian a lot (send me a Hua Cheng)

I like k-pop. Currently, I like BTS, TXT, SKZ, LE SSERAFIM, New Jeans, Red Velvet and SHINee.

Other artists I like are: Tatsuya Kitani, Eve, The Oral Cigarettes, Vaundy, King Gnu, Queen Bee and MCR (what a mix)

Fandoms I’m in include(I’m sure I’ll add more danmei when I’m done reading them):

TGCF (I have beef with it but I’m deeply in love)

MDZS

SVSSS (still reading, on volume 2)

JJK

AOT

Sometimes I like Marvel. I only care about Spider-Man and Loki

TLOZ

Pokémon

(Always open to suggestions for more things, especially when they’re queer🤠👍🏻)

I write my own stories and am working on an AU that includes many fantastical being, though I am not entirely sure if that’s ever gonna see the light of day bc I don’t see anyone caring about my writing lol (it already has 137.000 words I’m not even joking it’s not funny, why am I writing this)

I’m sure I’ll post more of my OC’s when I find the time. My favorite is Harumi, he’s the main character in the fantastic beings AU, as a werewolf

I am so sorry my humor is super trauma based, bare with me it’s okay to laugh at my pain, it’s how I process, I swear

My favorite food is anything indian (especially aloo mutter, I bathe in that), pizza (only the one I make), and (red) thai curry.

That’s the only thing that sets me apart from Xie Lian, I eventually did learn how to cook and apparently people like my food!! (I add cinnamon and chili to everything, maybe that’s the key?)

I love building lego and organizing things by category (why I didn’t get diagnosed with asd is beyond me, I’ve always been like that)

I mostly draw on an Ipad with procreate, but I wanna get into watercolor and copics too, I just feel like I’m wasting the suff when things don’t turn out how I wanted them to be

I am horrible at texting and get anxious over it

I had another account here I was running for years, but I was in a pretty icky fandom and didn’t want to associate with the reputation that came with it, thus, I left. I am not the stupid, hurt and depressed teenager I was anymore, and that’s great!

I am german, though, I speak English so much I might as well be a native speaker

That’s it for now, you can always feel free to ask my questions, my (anonymous) asks, submissions and reblogs are always open, I just won’t answer if you’re rude🤠✌🏻

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hey did you get my pms? Hope you're well today

Hey there! So…I've been told by several of you lovely readers that you really appreciate how I'm always really kind to all of you and really understanding. And I try really hard to be kind, to make this a happy, peaceful, fun blog for you guys. And I'm really sorry for anyone I'm going to disappoint here because I'm not going to be as nice as I normally am.

I have received your direct messages. I was sleeping because it was late at night when they came in Thursday night. So I wasn't able to read them until Friday morning before work. I then worked a full shift, as I do have a job that takes up quite a bit of my time, so I wasn't able to answer right away and honestly, I needed to take some time and think about how I wanted to reply to them because of things I'll cover later on. This came into my account around the time I was eating an early-ish supper on Saturday, so the messages hadn't even been sitting unanswered for very long, to be honest. As said, I work a job, volunteer with Mental Health, have to sleep and eat, have regular therapy appointments, have friends in real life I try to see in person or reply to their texts with some regularity (even though sometimes it can take me days or even a week to even answer friends texts) so I don't have as much online time available and what time I have online is largely spent lately writing the actual requests and posts for the blog (mostly in advance, and then finding the time to proof and then post them), clearing my inbox and draft folders. I've been honest and upfront always on this blog that I'm very much trash on replying to private messages and that it does take me a while to find the extra time, and social battery as I am an introvert and sometimes just can't find it in me to want to talk to people directly, to want to message back. On top of that, I had five other people waiting for replies to their direct messages to me that I hadn't replied to either at that point, now four of them, and some of their messages have honestly been sitting there for over a week. I am working on answering people back, but please respect the fact that it can take time and, maybe because of my neurodivergence, but reminders that the direct messages are there and hey, answer them because someone is waiting make me feel really pressured and stressed and definitely not eager to reply or talk to a person.

Now, since you brought this into a publicly answerable space by coming into the inbox, and because honestly, I've been really struggling with how to respond to your messages, I'm going to respond publicly, because most of it I would like to share with everyone who reads this blog. I mean no active disrespect to you by doing so, and will apologize in advance if you take it that way. Below is the private messages sent to me.

First, I do want to say, I do see the compliments in the message. I really appreciate them, they're very kind words, I appreciate the time you took to write them and the fact that reading my posts inspires you to write as well. Thank you very much for every compliment written.

Now, we'll tackle the answers, and things I did want to say, not only to this person but to everyone, step by step. I'm really glad that this person, and many of the others who read my stuff, do see the amount of effort I put into each and every one of my posts. Especially with the AU's, for most of them I really do take at least a day or two, sometimes longer, to really think them out, build up the worlds, figure out how the characters would really translate to this newly built up world, how they'd interact with each other in it, how their relationships in canon can be translated over. For some AU's, I do go and do research to build the actual world…going to use the most recently posted AU here, the mall AU with Eyeshield 21. As mentioned in that post, I went and actually pulled up maps of a mall to consider all the potential stores and since Deimon was really the focus and I set them working at a Cabela's like store, I was like…I know I've been in a Cabela's but how are the stores laid out again, what are all the different sections in a Cabela's and not only did I go look on their website but I phoned a friend I'd been meaning to hang out with anyway and was like 'shopping date? Only thing I ask for stores is that we stop by a Cabela's and you don't make fun of the fact that I'm not going to buy anything, just want to walk the store haha'. With the AU's, the match-up's, the headcanon requests, I'll sometimes even get stuck on whether an idea in my head really matches up with the character and does truly feel right, so I either go watch clips of the character or research, see what trivia I can dig up to either double-check what I already know, or see if I missed anything. So you are right in that, yeah, there is a lot of effort put into my posts and my writing. And I am so, so, SO happy and not at all bothered by putting in that amount of effort. Writing these posts, coming up with the ideas, spinning everything out, it is fun for me, it is something I enjoy, so please don't think that I am complaining about that, just wanting to explain why I'm going to go the direction I am in this reply.

Plain out blanket rule on this blog - if you see something on here you love and you come up with story ideas, with additional headcanons, with something you want to write, draw, do anything creative with? Please, please feel free to do so and to share those things publicly if you are comfortable. I do ask that you give me or my post credit for inspiration, because that would be the polite thing to do and tagging me in it so I can see what you did and geek out and love up on it would make me very happy, but I will be able to shrug it off if you don't, with the only exception to this being The Ever Young, where I do demand credit at the very least because that is at least a year, if not more, of solid world building and character building on my side.

Honestly, even though the AU's and even some of the headcanon posts have given me serious story ideas and I would love to, and plan on, finding the time and creative energy to properly write them out, the fact of the matter is that as writers, based on that one idea, both me and someone else can write it as a story and our stories are honestly probably going to be drastically different, because we'll have different ideas, different views of characters and relationships, different styles and tones to our writing. And I get being inspired by others - I've never made it a secret that the delinquent!Shouhei fic I write and post on here is inspired by some absolutely brilliant and inspiring headcanons shoheiakagi (if you're a fan of K and not following them, please click the link and check them out because they are wonderful and I personally really love their blog and how they help keep the K fandom so alive and active) wrote on their blog and that without those, the fic wouldn't exist.

This particular person though? I'm not sure I love the idea of you taking my ideas and running with them for one very important reason, and maybe it's really mean and petty of me, but it's the reason text on that screengrab of the messages is highlighted. Please make no mistake - what I do on this blog, the headcanons, the AU's, the match-up…everything, really. This is all very, very VERY much writing, just as much so as writing fic. I've written, in my storied fandom career (which started on Quizilla, way back in 2002 guys, yes I am the cryptkeeper), short fic, long fic, roleplaying posts - both as an original character and as canon characters, comfort letters to people from their favourite characters, quizzes, choose your own adventure stories, and what you see posted on this blog and my former one polycanons. And I can absolutely guarantee you that they are all forms of writing, that they all can be extremely time-consuming and hard to write in their own ways, that they all take effort and creativity. To reduce what I do on this blog into 'not exactly writing'…to be honest, I struggled with whether to even answer the messages and how to do so because I do accept my neurodivergence means I might overreact to things at times and I wanted to give my brain time and space to really think on what you sent to see if I was potentially overreacting. But honestly, it's now Sunday, three days after the messages were sent and while I would have liked a little more time to process and think about this, this person seems to want a more immediate answer so… I might be overreacting and I might be being petty, but I am also stating my truth when I say that the way that was worded came off to me as so incredibly dismissive of my hard work on my posts and a little disrespectful of me as an actual writer, to the point where it really invalidated any compliments you did give.

Honestly, while I love each and every single one of you, my constant, lovely readers, and will terribly miss you (my heart will, honestly, ache a little over the loss and I will carry you lovelies in my heart and wish you well) I will ask, as I'm asking this person, that if you really honestly and truly hold the opinion that what I do here on the blog is 'not exactly writing', if you can't even give me that baseline of respect, then please unfollow me and please do not use the ideas that I, as a writer, come up with.

[thompsborn]

!! the return of harley “daddy issues” keener (or is it mostly new angst? or mostly, like, physical?)

okay i love all these anons but also i am trying So Hard to not spoil things omg. please send more but also if i lowkey spoil something eventuallly it’s not my fault !! it actually definitely is entirely my fault but shhh

but anyways, kind of and also kind of not?

so like, in to build a family harley and peter are teenagers, but not like homeward bound. they’re high schoolers still, yk? they’re younger and haven’t gone through all the things that homeward bound harley and peter have gone through. i only bring up tbaf because obviously harley has Daddy Issues™ in tbaf. even before the second fic when his dad dies and he has to deal with that—in the first fic there’s a part where harley reminds his sister of their dad bc of how he left to go to new york and it’s this whole moment, yk? but he’s younger in tbaf and since tbaf is like not at all canon compliant to the mcu, they’ve gone through a lot less in comparison to hb, yk?

i say all that because while daddy issues are an ongoing lifelong thing for homeward bound harley, they aren’t as detrimental or as Big as they are in tbaf or other fics i’ve written where that comes up. hb harley is still effected by his daddy issues but he’s 18, he’s in college, he died for 5 years and came back to find out tony died, he has some family stuff that will be further explored and explained in the sequel with his mom and sister, and now also he has peter and the knowledge that peter is spider-man and the heaviness that comes with peter’s tragedies and past as well.

it’s a heaviness he’s okay with, don’t get me wrong, he’s more than happy to be there for peter and to learn these things and has been curious about peter since the first time peter walked into late night (again, will be explained more in the sequel!) but it’s heavy nonetheless, you know?

essentially, in the grand scheme of things, while he’s still impacted by his daddy issues, he also just… doesnt care anymore? like not caring doesn’t erase the impact but also he barely thinks of his dad and when he does he doesnt feel angry or upset or any of the things he felt in the past about his dad leaving, he just… doesnt care. he’s been through so much at this point that it’s just Another Thing. he’s desensitized to it to the point that like, why does it matter? it doesn’t.

there’s a part in hb, i can’t remember which chapter but it’s a small texting segment in one of the chapters where harry talks about him harley and peter making a no dad’s club for funsies and in that text convo harley mentions that he has a dad he just doesnt know where he is and doesn’t care enough to find out.

also, to answer that last part—it’s new angst that includes physical stuff! there’s gonna be… a lot lmao. i have a lot of things planned for this series, a lot of ideas taken from various comics, from the movies, from the games, etc. i’m even planning to read through plotlines for some of the animated series to see if there’s any additional ideas to draw from there.

but like, think of it this way, i guess: harley cares. a LOT. like some of his remaining daddy issues have developed in the form of being a bit slow to trust new people, but like he’s mentioned in the fic, once he chooses to care about someone, he is ALL IN. he is COMMITTED. and now that he knows about peter being spidey and is actively choosing to be involved in that, his instincts and his heart are going to want to do anything and everything he can to help.

okay actually sorry this answer is SO long BUT i remembered something i had harley say and i went back and looked and in chapter three he tells peter “my Mama says I have the heart of a protector” and THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IM TRYING TO CONVEY HERE LMAO so THAT is who he is at heart yk?

and peter is gonna be in a lot of dangerous situations as spidey, and as the series goes on people connected to him are going to be in danger because of spidey, and essentially like…. a lot of emotions and a lot of angst and a lot of potential for getting hurt, yk?

i need to stop here because i keep almost saying fuck it and giving an example that is definitely a spoiler but yeah. take that as you will (:

[dibbs-n-scribbs]

Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your three best and/or favorite fanarts/fanfics/moodboards/whatever that you've made, then pass on to others. No self-deprecation allowed! Let's get this self-love going ON!

Sorry for the late response, but oh boy get ready for a lot of text! (Also thx for sending this Babs!)

My TF2 oc Darnell! I mostly post about her on my tf2 alt acc (haha plug moment @general-marzipan). I made her fairly recently (about 1-2 months ago), but he just gives me so much joy. Although originally made to be a self-insert character, they became their own character who has helped me learn more about myself as a person, & even find things that I actually like about myself. I love how her design is simple but still enough to differ from the engineer class, I love the little scenarios I think of with him in it cause they range from silly to serious & she also gives me so many creative ideas, something I haven't had in a while. So to sum this up, I love her I love her I love her I love her I love her!

My artfight attack for @/gearbroth's oc Star Gordon! I was super excited to see that one of my favorite artists was on Artfight this year, so I worked extra hard on the pose & overall expression of this piece so that the viewer can feel the intensity that the character is feeling in that harsh moment. I definitely experimented with different settings & textures, & I think I did pretty well considering the fact that I used a new drawing program for the piece! Overall I'm very proud of this piece & definitely want to try some harsh expressions some time again in the future!

My TF2 Scout x Reader Oneshot Fanfic! For years I've loved reading fanfics of my favorite characters, so after years of consideration, I had finally decided to write my own oneshot! I knew when writing this I wanted to write in the perspective of me being in that situation, cause I want something to be realistic yet a level of silliness that I would enjoy (I also like fictional men a lot haha). I may be a beginner at writing, but I'm pretty proud of this piece! I haven't read it in a while, but I remember staying up late to figure out how the scenes would be described, which teammates would cheer for who, what challenges would commence, how the romance would play out while also keeping the characters as close to canon as possible without making them too ooc. I tried to reference my favorite writing styles as much as possible, & I spent days thinking of different dialogue options & how the fanfic would eventually end. I could go on & on about this piece I love it so much. I'm even working on some other oneshots, so I'm glad I could start my fanfic writing off on a good note!

I haven't made a lot of stuff recently, since artblock's been kicking my butt for a while, but overall I'm quite happy with my creations & hope to bring more content in the future!

[renee-writer]

The Contractor Chapter 33 Protection

AO3

 

She rocks him to sleep that night. Several parenting books she read suggests sleep training. They say to rock a baby to sleep is spoiling them.

 

“Pish Posh,” She says, “you can’t spoil a baby with care and love.” Besides, with her back to work, she crazes this time with her son cuddling into her as his body grows heavier succumbing to sleep.

 

She is loath to put him down and always holds him a bit longer before eventually laying him in his cot. Then she watches him for a few minutes, the soft raise and fall of his chest, the way his curls lay around his face. Deep love fills her heart. Adopting him was the best thing she has yet done in her life. Marrying Jamie will be the next best thing.

 

She cannot wait until Geillis returns from her honeymoon so they can talk. Oh, she is happy that she found love and tamed the hard heart of Angus, but she misses her. Desperately.

 

A shower is next on her list. Gathering her robe, she heads into the bathroom, loosening her hair on the way.  A full scrub, hair washing, and shaving, is in the menu for tonight. After, she has some continuing education to go over.

 

Exiting the shower, robe on and hair wrapped in a towel, she goes to check on Fergus before dressing. She almost screams at seeing a shadow of a man by his cot.

 

“Don’t, it is me Claire.” Her legs give out and she slumps against the door frame at hearing his voice.

 

“Christ Alive, you scared me!” one hand is on her pounding heart.

 

“I’m sorry. I texted I was on the way over.” He comes up to her, kneeling to wrap his arms about her.

 

“My mobile is in the bedroom charging. I was in the shower.” She finds breath to explain, as her heartbeat slows.

 

“I love to watch him sleep. Pure innocence. It is calming.”

 

She smiles unseen in the mostly dark room. A small nightlight allows him to be checked on without disturbing his sleep.

 

“Me too.”

 

“Again, I am sorry my love.” He lifts them both up and he leads them back over to the cot. He still sleeps peacefully on his back. They slip out.

 

“It is alright, just seeing someone by his cot…”

 

“As long as I draw breath, I will do my best to see no harm comes to him.” He vows.

 

“I know you will.” They enter her room and she takes her hair down. Picking up her brush, she starts to sort it. He takes a seat beside her and takes the brush,” What?”

 

“May I?” Her frown of confusion turns to a smile.

 

“That would be lovely.” He is gentle, working the brush through her wet hair. “I am sorry that you weren’t mentioned at Fergus’ dedication.”

 

“I had no role, no official role.” He says.

 

“Hmm,” He is relaxing her. “That will have to be changed.”

 

He stops, and moves to find her eyes, “Are you saying?”

 

“You will be his stepdad but, I have no problem with you adopting him, if you wish.”

 

He smiles, laughs, and then kisses her. It soon turns serious at his discovering her nudity under her robe.

 

Later, when he returns to her hair, now partially dry and tangled, he say, “Yes, I would love to.”

 

She laughs. “I assumed as much.”

[ciaran]

Yoo ask writing meme? Hope you don't mind taking more, 13... 17? 18 if you're okay with that, 33, 35, 36? And 38, sorry if that's a lot. Btw seeing you update your layouts is fun, where do you find all the ethereal looking images you use for your icons? I too am a sun hater.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

i find writing kink really easy, but also really hard. it's always in my head, but there's so much of it that pulling it into a manageable size is really tough. i think most of the things i love writing are at least a little hard, but the stuff that should count as "hardest" is also the most satisfying. i love writing characters having breakdowns. i find it easy to write dialogue and atmosphere and emotion; i find it difficult to write action. i feel like i'm walking around the answer without hitting it.

the rest are under the cut for length!

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

i don't know if i'm good at doing this but let me try. i generally keep all the details in my head so i feel excited about putting them down? but this WIP is set in a world where the land and king are intrinsically connected, and nick was adopted because he was recognized. the mechanism of recognition is irrelevant. there's a scene where vash says he was drowned by a rusalka; what happened was that the rusalka was hurt by a human man, and in retaliation kidnapped and drowned a couple of children. vash jumped in to save the kids, and the river froze over, so he was in there for a time that would have killed a human but he's not human, so... he managed to talk the rusalka down, then climbed out and dispersed a crowd of villagers with pitchforks and torches, made them all really mad at him, and ended up freezing to death between the water and the snow. there's another scene where vash says his cloak is made of phoenix feathers. his brother deals primarily with the supernatural creatures of the land, and does not truck with humans. vash himself brought this phoenix to knives, because she was dying and he was hoping his brother could save her, but his brother couldn't do anything by then. she died in knives's arms after vash left. when he came back, knives had made her feathers into a cloak for his brother. though phoenixes never fully die, they do fade out - their heat does not dissipate, but the consciousness leaves. since vash is a dragon with (story spoilers) no fire, he needs the warmth when he travels... and stuff like the thing with the rusalka happens anyway.

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

i paint and draw, but it's all very abstract and way less emotionally charged for me than writing. i also want to get back into singing. i don't think it ties into my writing, unless i want to talk about the process of Creation, one of my pet themes :)

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

all of them. show me a rule and i'll show you a way to break it. but mostly i think i hate the idea that every scene needs to be relevant in an immediate way. pacing, you guys. let the emotions breathe!!!

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

i know almost nothing... well, i know gender, and trauma, and mental illness. i know loneliness. everything else - well, who can say? i'm curious what people think i know, after reading my stuff.

as for the icons - pinterest >_< my guilty pleasure i never grew out of. i am sort of obsessed w maintaining a very specific aesthetic across my accounts. sun haters UNITE

[gnusnoteunuchs]

also sage, ivy, mahonia for the ask game

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

I'd probably have to say fiction, but I'll admit that's colored by the way I interact with art in general. I read a lot of books, just because I spend about two hours commuting a day. I go through books really fast.

But I really do appreciate the way that a good novel creates an immersive world and characters, and really draws you into its logic and stakes. prose fiction is probably the strongest way to get me to engage with stories, and i think most of the stories that really fucked me up were in fact novels. I'll give you a few examples:

Simon Jimenez, The Vanished Birds This book is like, what if you had the "found family space opera pursued by demons of their pasts" thing that Firefly did, but without the Whedonesque "we all hate each other" thing? That's the basic emotional premise. This book is about love, mostly, but it's also extremely about grief. It's also about loving someone even when you know you've lost them and you'll never see them again, not even at the end of all things, when your small slice of eternity has run its course. This book fucking hurts, deeply. I love it.

Ursula Le Guin, Tehanu This book takes the basic premises of Earthsea, a very cool setting, and rips them wide open, using Earthsea as a stand-in for [insert sword and sorcery setting of your choice]. This book is Le Guin holding you by the head, looking straight into your eyes, and forcing you to ask yourself what happens in a world of might and magic where all the might and magic is done by men. What happens when all the men think they're doing might and magic, but they're just hurting people? This was the most upsetting text I've ever interacted with, straight up. I've watched movies that were more viscerally unpleasant, but nothing made me mad the way this book did. This book made me wonder whether Le Guin loves fantasy or hates it, and it made me wonder whether I hate it too. Fucking excellent, everyone should read this. Just pace yourself, it's agonizing.

Megan Giddings, The Women Could Fly I kind of burnt myself out emotionally thinking about Tehanu, but this is a very fun urban fantasy story about witches, love, and reactionary thought. They say this is set in a dystopian alternate universe United States, but I'm not gonna lie, most of the dystopian stuff didn't even surprise me. It just feels like how the US is gonna be in about 30 years if the water wars don't kill us all first. Good book, with a very fun take on magic.

Scott Westerfeld, Succession (duology) People say they don't like science fiction, or that they don't like hard science fiction. They are wrong, and this duology (The Risen Empire and The Killing of Worlds) is why. Read it.

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

Not sure how to answer this one, sorry! Ask my wife, I think she knows better than me

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

This varies widely, actually! There are quite a few places that have inspired my art and writing in the past...a few big examples are:

The redwood forests of northern California (particularly in Humboldt)

The United States Botanic Garden, in Washington DC. It's this massive, ornate conservatory, and it's absolutely beautiful. It felt magical to me as a kid

The sea. The delicate yet massive interplay between wind and waves, between water and hull, air and sail, stunning in its desolation yet overwhelming in its richness. I need to go to sea. I need to go to sea.

Also some fucked up horror movies really get me, also. After I watched Event Horizon and Videodrome I started thinking and could not stop thinking

[femmmie]

Danthony 2023

This is a sequel to Danthony 2013 I wrote yes, ten years ago lmao. You will be disappointed to learn I have not become a better writer lmaooo but I do still enjoy it so here ya go. I will add the original one so its a nice long read.

Also I'm very drunk so sorry in advance

2013

Dan felt Anthony’s arm loosely around his neck, as his own hand was searching for a spot on Anthony’s back that was as low as possible while still being acceptable to passers-by.

“It’s actually happening. It’s actually happening,” Dan kept on repeating in his mind. He might have blurted it out once or twice under his breath, while he and Phil were supporting the gorgeous young man and walked towards their hotel.

The last few months had been like a dream. At first there had been a lot of twitter messages, then texts, then Skype conversations. Dan had (easily) convinced Anthony to do an interview for Dan and Phil’s radio show. And Dan had bought a Wii U especially so he could play Mario Kart online with Anthony. Not that he would ever admit that. And now they had been partying, hard, together.

Dan heard Anthony breathe heavily. “Are you alright?” he stammered , still walking.

“Yeah” was all Anthony could manage.

“Shh, it’s OK”, Phil, who had his harm around Anthony’s shoulders and was his main support, said reassuringly. “We’ll be there soon”.

“Mmmmm”, said Anthony.

Anthony Padilla! The guy of Dan’s dreams. Maybe that sounded weird, but it was true. He had practically been pulled into YouTube by Anthony and Smosh. He liked that he looked somewhat similar to Anthony, and he was thrilled that Anthony’s first name was Daniel too (Anthony was his second name). How he wanted to be as cool as him! So outgoing, with an infectious laugh and beaming eyes. All Dan could manage was a proper and somewhat up-tight British thing, or whatever it was that he did. He genuinely didn’t like himself at all. Dan was unsociable and lazy. Anthony was approachable, even for Dan, and he was so hard-working. Dan had been crying, watching Anthony’s ‘draw my life’ video. He had started with nothing and made Smosh as big as it was now, by sheer work ethic and, of course, his charming personality.

“There, let me just get my keys”, Phil said, carefully placing Anthony’s right arm on Dan so that the two guys were practically hugging. They had arrived at the hotel and somehow got Anthony in and out the elevator to their room. Dan couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. Anthony let his head rest on Dan’s shoulder, though, and Dan felt his hot breath in his neck. It made his hair stand up.

Dan had felt butterflies violently fluttering in his stomach all the way during their flight to Orlando. Phil was mostly excited about going to Sea World, though. Dan couldn’t help but feel warm and affectionate towards Phil, his cuter than cute best friend. He also felt very protective over him and wouldn’t leave his side. He had panicked internally when he and Cat had lost him for a few minutes in a restaurant the other day, although he would never show it. So right now, he was with the two persons in the whole world he wanted to be with most: Anthony and Phil.

Phil opened the door and said “Shall I call Kalel to tell her you’re here?”

“Hmmm”, was the agreeing noise Anthony made from Dan’s shoulder. Dan was still standing next to the door, not trying to move but not wanting to move either. Their body heat had merged and it felt incredibly comfortable.

“..yes, he’s pretty drunk, but we got him to the hotel safely. Yeah, that’s alright, have a nice night, see you tomorrow!” came Phil’s voice from the hallway. His innocent face appeared through the door and he said “Kalel will pick him up tomorrow morning. She’s still partying with her friends”. Dan and Phil slowly but steadily moved Anthony into their hotel room, and placed him on Dan’s bed.

“Thank you”, Anthony murmured, and he was gone. Sleeping like an angel, Dan thought. Phil smiled onesidedly and said “Americans just aren’t used to British drinking!” and he laughed, still a bit intoxicated himself. Dan beamed at him and ruffled his hair. Phil made a purring sound and went into the shower.

Dan stayed by Anthony’s side. He could watch him forever. So beautiful, his hair was perfect. Way more luscious than Dan’s hair would ever be. So shiny… Dan kneeled at Anthony’s bedside and slowly traced one lock of Anthony’s hair down his jawline. Dan sighed. “Thank you”, he whispered, to nobody in particular. He was just thankful that Anthony Padilla lay on his bed right now. A sudden jolt of adrenaline hit him. Did he dare? He bit his lip and slowly released it, then traced his upper lip with his tongue. He inched closer to Anthony’s face. Anthony’s perfect, angelic sleeping face.

Dan looked at Anthony’s mouth. It was curled in a peaceful sleepy half-smile. His cheeks were still red. Dan just did it. Really quick. He kissed Anthony’s cheek. If he felt adrenaline before, it was nothing to what he was feeling now. Things seemed to move in slow motion. He bent over Anthony again and placed a kiss on his lips. He let go, but then he kissed him again, longer now and softer. Anthony moaned softly in his sleep and Dan was horrified for a moment, and just froze in position, but then Anthony kissed him back - kissed him back - and moaned some more. Dan couldn’t believe himself but he was beyond glad that Anthony was still asleep. He was starting to realize what he was doing though and sat up fast, face flushing scarlet, touching his own lips incredulously.

“Wha-, what did I just do?”, he whispered.

After a while, Phil returned from the shower, shirtless, and still drying his hair with a towel. “The shower is yours”, he said sweetly. Dan had been frozen in place with his finger still on his lips. He mechanically got up and went into the shower.

Dan didn’t sleep all night. His body was surging with emotions and went from manically rejoicing to horrified despair. He couldn’t even lie down. He just rocked back and forth on the floor. After what he had done, he physically couldn’t get into the same bed as Anthony, but he couldn’t join Phil either because he would notice that he was tense. “It actually happened. This actually happened”, Dan whispered to himself.

“Hiiii sweety!!” Kalel said to her boyfriend as she came into the room. The three guys were just having breakfast but Phil had got up to let her in.

“Baby!” Anthony said with his mock sweet voice and he fluttered his eye lashes. Dan laughed but then stopped and looked mortified of guilt. Nobody noticed though.

“How was your night with the English folk? A bit too much for you, eh?” Kalel teased.

“It certainly was fun!” Anthony said, smiling.

“Let’s do that again sometime, Dan and Phil! Maybe we will come visit you guys in London on our next holiday!”

“That would be awesome!” Phil replied.

“Thanks guys, for keeping my boy safe and sound” said Kalel and she kissed them both on the cheek. Dan’s face flushed again.

“Aww, isn’t he cute!” Kalel laughed.

“He’s adorable. They both are”, said Anthony. “I could just kiss them!” he jokingly added, and Dan thought he couldn’t be more horrified but he could, because suddenly Anthony looked at him funny, like he remembered something, and his face went red too, but he then shook his head and he and Kalel left, promising to play some more Mario Kart online in a few days.

Phil saw Dan sitting with a vacant expression and he was worried. He felt so protective over his best friend. He knew Dan secretly liked Anthony and seeing him go again must have made him sad. So Phil sat down next to him and put his arm around him. Dan’s chest heaved and he began to cry. He buried himself into Phil’s warm embrace and Phil held him close.

“You’re the best friend in the world”, Dan sobbed.

“So are you”, Phil said. Dan couldn’t believe he was crying, when he had the best person in the world sitting next to him, comforting him after he yet again had made a fool of himself. He loved Phil more than ever. Dan felt Phil’s arms around his waist, as his own hands were placed around Phil’s back. It felt right. They sat there, embracing, for a long time.

2023

Anthony was in Prague. The ancient city intrigued him, enticed him to explore and feel nostalgic. Who lived here hundreds or even thousands of years ago? Had they led nice lives? Were they fulfilled, and did they reach their full potential?

Anthony always worried about living up to his potential. Growing up poor had done that to him. Even though he would never have money problems again, he always felt an innate need to work hard, harder, and never stop... To remind himself of what really mattered, the intangible things, the humanity of life, he had set some very personal and meaningful tattoos. They reminded him every day. Yes, he was still a workaholic. But it wasn't toxic anymore. He was happy to get out of bed each morning and loved his life and his job. It wasn't even a real job, he just showed up and enjoyed himself. What a life!

Of course, in the back of Anthony's mind there still loomed some darkness. It had taken him years to get to this place of wellbeing. He still faced the ghost of his past sometimes when he had flardes of memory flashing before his eyes, of the time when his emotions were all wrapped up and he had truly been mentally unwell.

Do I deserve this happiness?

Anthony didn't know. After his tattoos had been updated and expanded, he took the flight back to LA, a place so familiar but also a mixed bag for Anthony when it came to where he really wanted to live. Prague seemed so much more peaceful. Yet LA was the place he could do his job and where all his friends and family lived.

He sighed as he got on the plane, dressed in a tracksuit and with only a weekend bag of his clothes and some protein bars.

The weather was awful. Rain streamed against the plane window, and Anthony was suddenly overcome with the most random of feelings: two soft, warm lips on his, an alcohol filled night, and those lips they had rejuvenated him, lit a fire under him that had sustained him for years. Whose were they? He involuntarily blushed and shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought. Was it a memory? A fantasy?

"We are making an emergency landing at London Heathrow Airport," the pilot said after a few hours of stressful turbulence.

"Ugh, just my luck... well, I shouldn't complain. I'm healthy, I have a roof over my head, I'm well fed, I have many loved ones... focus, Anthony. You didn't want to leave Europe just yet anyway." Anthony hyped himself up and made a plan.

When he got out of the plane, he immediately called his old friend Dan.

"Hi, yeah, it's me. So yeah, my plane made an emergency landing! Yeah, it sure was scary! Would it be okay if I crashed at your guys' place? Oh, Phil isn't there? Well then, I could have his bed? Hahahahha just kidding. I will gladly sleep in your guest room. Thanks so much, Dan. See you in a bit then."

Anthony smiled to himself. Of all his youtuber friends, Dan was a special one. For one, Anthony knew Dan had a major crush on him. He had made that know very plainly last year. Anthony didn't mind, Dan was hardly the only guy lusting after him. But Dan also had something else. He had a delicate quality to him that Anthony could not quite pinpoint. Maybe it was his eyes. They looked feminine somehow and very pretty... Anthony shook his head again.

"Chill out, Anthony, those days are behind you..."

The cab arrived at Dan and Phil's house and Dan greeted Anthony at the port.

"Anthony!"

"So nice to see you, Dan!"

They hugged. Dan smelled sweet, like flowers.

"I guess this is a sleepover! Just kidding, unless... hahaha I am actually kidding, of course you just want a place to stay until your plane leaves for America. Oh no, I've made it weird..."

"You're so cute when you're flustered."

Anthony was pushing his luck, but he knew how hot he was and how he made both women and men squirm under his gaze.

"Shut up. Shut.. hahaha, you're kidding, haa. I know what you're doing, Anthony. You need to stop. Hahaha, or continue..."

"Just show me my bedroom, and I will not bother you until tomorrow morning." Anthony winked at Dan, who winked back and then looked mortified. Anthony couldn't help but laugh.

Dan lived in a very nice new neighborhood with white houses, young trees, and a lot of posh cats, lurking in the twilight outside. It was very different than the old city of Prague. But Anthony felt himself wonder the same things. Do people here feel fulfilled, are they living up to their potential? Are they happy?

Dan showed Anthony his room and Anthony dropped his stuff there. He actually didn't feel like sleeping just yet, however tired he may be.

"Are you in for a Smash Brothers rematch for old times sake?" Anthony asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I thought you would never ask," Dan said grinning and he led Anthony to the gaming room which had a mini fridge stocked with hard liquor, from which they drank, negatively influencing their game performances. But it felt good, comfortable to goof around with Dan. Anthony started to feel sleepy. Then that vision or rather feeling hit him again: warm, soft lips, a sweet smell...

Anthony froze.

"What's the matter, Anthony?"

"Was it you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever kissed me?"

Silence. Anthony looked at Dan, who looked pale, like a deer in headlights.

"So you HAVE kissed me. But when, where, how? It's driving me crazy."

"I... I..." Dan was having a breakdown, Anthony could tell, and he secretly reveled once again in making the other guy sweat and blush. But also, all his memories now fell into place. It had been at a night during Vidcon, he'd spent the night at Dan's hotel room. It was Dan. Dan had kissed him with those exquisite lips. Anthony's world was spinning. Was this missing from my own life? Will I finally be truly happy?

"Hey," Anthony said softly, laying a hand on Dan's shoulder. He had just won, so he didn't mind letting go of the controllers. "It's okay, I'm not mad or anything. It's just that I have this memory. God, it's so long ago, we were both still babies. I remember the feeling of warm lips against mine, and it felt very nice, actually."

Dan had overcome his episode apparently but now he looked very serious.

"Please Anthony, don't play with my heart like this. You're straight I get it. I didn't know at the time, I didn't. And still it's inexcusable, it wasn't consensual, it was a foolish thing to do. I'll accept whatever you decide to be my punishment."

"Hey..."

Anthony had to tell him.

"You know, you triggered something there. A feeling I had to explore. I hooked up with guys a couple of times, but it just wasn't the same, you know? So I figured I must be straight. But it was you. Do you mind if I tried this one more time?"

And he leaned in to Dan who sat next to him on the couch. Dan was searing hot and radiating his heat in all directions. He was very cute.

"Please, Dan. I just want to feel your lips once more..."

Trembling, Dan leaned in as well, and it was fireworks. Nothing Anthony had ever experienced with a girl or with a guy. This was heaven. He tugged on Dan's shirt to get him closer. He breathed in that sweet scent. He pushed his tongue inside Dan's mouth, Dan moaning in confused pleasure. He would fuck Dan Howell tonight.

Anthony broke their kiss and took his shirt off in front of Dan, who looked like he saw God himself.

"Dan, please undress."

Dan unbuttoned his black shirt, revealing a smooth olive skin, feminine just like his eyes. Anthony twitched in his pants so he undid his lid.

"Can you take my pants off?"

"Sure, I'll get right to-"

"No, not with your hands. With your mouth."

Anthony was having way too much fun, delighting in Dan actually obliging and taking his pants off with his mouth.

He undid his boxers himself and sat back down on the couch.

"Can you put that cute mouth to good use, Dan?" He asked, gesturing to his dick. Dan immediately sat down on his knees between Anthony's legs and began to suck on his cock. Anthony let his head rest back against the couch as he felt Dan work for him, tongue spiraling as he sucked, panting for breath now and again. It felt delicious.

"WELL, I guess I'm not straight then!" Anthony smiled. This had been the missing puzzle piece. Getting sucked off by random guys had felt gross, but Dan doing it, with those lips he knew from a blissful fever dream, felt absolutely right. More forceful than a girl would do, but still gentle enough not to hurt him.

"Dan, I'm getting there.."

Not much longer, he came into Dan's mouth.

"Swallow. Good boy," Anthony commanded. After his plane adventure and these new revelations, he felt sleep overcome him.

He woke up and realized he was tied up, face down to his bed and gagged.

"You wanted this, right?"

Dan awkwardly held a whip and looked terrified, but determined.

"I will train you."

Dan got on the bed and proceeded to stir something that was apparently already inside Anthony's ass.

"Now, relax and I will enter you."

"Hggg"

"Don't talk, Anthony, let me do everything for you."

The stirring continued, and then something exited, and Dan entered. That much Anthony was certain off even though he couldn't see. Dan was big. Anthony's ass felt like it was on fire. He moaned into his gag and fantasized he had another very specific cock in his mouth. It made him crazy and he thrusted his ass against Dan's crotch. Dan quickly came and bit Anthony neck softly, breathing heavily and relaxing against him. He undid the ties and gag.

"You bad boy," Anthony teased.

"You liked it, don't lie," Dan joked nervously.

"I did, I'm ready for another round."

Anthony was a lot stronger than Dan, especially when he was actually awake. He pushed Dan face down into the mattress and stuck two fingers in his ass. Dan screamed in pleasure.

"You look so hot when you're asleep," Dan confessed.

"And you look hot when you're defenseless and pathetic against my strength. He pushed Dan further into the bed. He took out his fingers and penetrated Dan deep into his rectum. Dan screamed.

"Tsk tsk. What will the neighbors say?"

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, Anthony. Please, please come inside me.

Anthony lasted for quite some time. Maybe because he was spacing out while fucking Dan. He realized how fulfilled he was, how he could apply this new mental peace to the rest of his life, to become a better and greater version of himself. OH god that felt good, Dan moaned just a little louder, maybe he felt Anthony disengaging. But he was back, back inside, back on task. Yes, this was amazing. 

Anthony exploded once more and let Dan lay there on his bed, cum dripping out of him.

[peyton-warren]

Blinded by the Fog Part 4

Characters: Captain Syverson and Reader. Mention of Jake Jensen and Cougar Pairings: Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3061 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Loss of spouse and found family. drinking, swearing. Therapy/ emotional baggage type language. Vague mention of shitty childhood for reader.

Summary: Aaran Syverson effortlessly just became a regular part of your life. AKA Sy completely becomes reader's emotional support bear.

Author's Note: Therapeutic terms, emotional baggage, reluctance to ask for help and hesitancy to accept it in this chapter are straight out of my own mental health journey. Write what you know, right? Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support, especially when I want to chuck this whole thing in the trash and never look at it again.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Part 3

Aaran Syverson effortlessly just became a regular part of your life, same as Jolene and Madre and Aubrey. He checked in on you each day over the next few weeks, always by text and usually also in person most days.  You slid easily into a friendship with him, enjoying his company. And you didn’t find yourself unexpectedly at the bottom of a bottle again.  Although you both skirted the issue of why you drank so heavily that day, Sy managed to keep you held together.  

You even allowed him to help care for you, though some days you were more reluctant than others. As if he read your mind about your struggle with the overwhelming sense of dread at the thought of a lonely evening meal, you had dinner together at least once every couple days, depending on work schedules.   Some days you cooked, some days he either brought food he then cooked in your kitchen or take-out, and more than once you shared food from Cougar’s mom after one of you checked in on her. 

It had been mostly clear sailing for about a month after meeting Sy until you hit a rough patch at the end of a hard week of work. Things went sideways on a huge project, and you were left to pick up the pieces.  You managed to keep your shit together until Friday, trying hard to neither crack at work nor in front of your new best friend. To make it worse, your brain repeatedly reminded you that Jake would have known something was wrong and how best to help you without you even needing to ask.  This stirred up a huge uncomfortable knot of dread in your belly at the thought of going to your empty home.  Your brain and heart swirled with that and so many other thoughts and memories of Your Forever.  

The sun was setting on Friday as you sat in the parking lot at work with your head resting on the steering wheel of your car long after everyone else left for the day, your head pounding and your heart racing with the anxiety of going home to your empty house, having to face another night without Jake.  The unexpected ring of your cell startled you, making you jump, and gasp, hand landing on your chest to keep your heart in your rib cage.  You tried to catch your breath as the phone silenced only to have it ring again.  You grabbed for your bag, pulling the piece of technology out to see Sy’s name on the screen.   

Drawing in a calming breath, you answered.  "Hey,” your voice was tiny, barely keeping tears at bay.  

“Hey, you ok?" Sy sounded immediately concerned.  “Where are you?"  

You gulped back a soft sob.  "At work." You kept it short and sweet, leaving out all the other details.  

"Oh,”  There was a beat of silence. “They need you this late on a Friday night?" 

It was your turn to be quiet.  Then you remembered. 

“Oh shit!” you gasped, your hand cupping your leaking eyes. “We were supposed to….fuck are you at my house?” 

“Maybe,” he confessed.

Tears flowed quicker as you realized you were a horrible person. Your self involved thoughts kept you from keeping your plans of pizza and a dumb ass movie.  Sy didn’t deserve that from you, no one deserved that from you. “I’m sorry,” you barely squeaked out.  “So sor-"

“Oh hey hey hey, sweets," Sy shushed you. “I get work needing you."

You sobbed louder into the phone. “No," you mutter, unable to catch your breath.  “No. I’m sorry.  I’m just sitting here.  I can’t… I just can’t go home…not.."

“Baby, it’s ok.” You heard the unmistakable sound of his truck door closing in the background.  “Really,” he continued as the engine rumbled to life.  “Stay there and I’ll come get you, and we will figure out everything after that.”

Your head shook even though Sy could not see you.  “No no,” you started to protest.  

“Whut??” Sy yelled into the phone.  “I can’t hear you.”  He made static noises with his mouth.  “I’ll be there soon.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the connection went dead.  Tossing your phone into the passenger seat, you flipped down the sun visor and opened the vanity mirror, looking to see how bad you looked after crying for nearly 2 hours. As you patted your cheeks with a spare napkin, you tried to make the red around your eyes disappear.  You suddenly felt guilty for caring what you looked like before Sy got to you.  You tried to reason with yourself that you would be as concerned if Madre or Jolene were coming to get you.  You didn’t want to look like a mess in front of anyone.

A tiny voice in the back of your mind reminded you that Sy was an attractive man.  You told that voice to fuck off, that attractive men had women friends.  You needed a friend, and Sy wanted to help.  You and Sy were friends.  You were allowed to be friends with a man.  You were allowed to develop a new friendship with someone your deceased husband never knew.  There was zero wrong with it.  The end.

Thy doth protest too much, the voice insisted. 

The rumble of Sy’s truck silenced your inner debate for the moment.  Glancing quickly at the giant behemoth entering the parking lot, you gave yourself one more once over in the mirror before flipping the sunshade back into place just in time as he pulled up next to you despite having the whole lot to park.  You gave him a small smile as you rolled your window down, figuring he was going to do the same.  Instead he turned off the truck and got out, taking one long legged stride over to you.  You ignored your belly flip flop as he set his forearm on the roof of your car and leaned down, instead blaming it on the unmistakable scent emanating from him-pizza.  

“You save me at least one slice?” you asked, teasingly, hoping to distract him from your panic attack and red tinged cheeks at the inner debate that happened moments earlier.  

Sy smirked.  “Only one.”   He reached for the handle of your door.  “C’mon, let’s go to my house, and we can eat pizza and watch a movie there as well as we can at yours,” he suggested, opening it.  You had never been to his place in the time you had spent together, him always coming to your home.  And you had to admit you were curious what it looked like.  

You rolled the windows up in your car, and grabbed your bag and phone, stepping out.  Sy shut the door as soon as you were clear and you hit the lock on your key fob.  With a contagious smile, Sy stepped towards you, his arms open, looking to swallow you into his embrace. The panic suddenly swirled back through your veins with a vengeance.  “Don’t.” Your hand wedged between your bodies, heart rate spiking, your breathing shallow.  You didn’t miss the look of hurt that flashed across Sy’s eyes at your denial as he looked from your hand to your face.  “I’m sorry,” you tried, your voice suddenly so weary. “I just… my shit is barely contained. If you touch me, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop crying.” You take a deep breath as you see understanding replace pain, your stance breaks, your body relaxing, your hand dropping.  “And then the world will flood and it’ll be all your fault.”

“Seeings as my name isn’t Noah and all,” he teased you, redirecting his body to shepherd you around the truck. Opening the passenger door, he offered you a hand up into the truck that was bigger than all the vehicles you ever owned all rolled into one.  

The ride to Sy’s home was mostly filled with comfortable silence.  You could tell he wanted to ask what happened but he luckily did not.  You were very thankful he was as he was, not pushing you to talk about whatever was going on in your head .  You leaned on the window, allowing the cool of the glass to soothe you some.  Your vision softened and you really didn’t pay attention to where you were going as you forced yourself to settle into the reassurance of Sy’s presence.  He had you.  

The pitter patter of rain against the windshield drew your mind back to the present.  It was about then the truck pulled into what you guessed was a driveway, and you realized you had no idea where you were, even though it didn't seem like you had been in the truck all that long. Through the smattering of rain on the window, you were greeted by the cutest classic 1900s farmhouse.  

“Oh my god,” you gasped at the home.  You weren’t sure what you were expecting Sy to live in but now that you were here you had no doubt this was perfectly him. Clapboard siding painted white, simple porch with black wooden columns, black gingerbread accents, and black rocking chairs adorning it.  With a beautiful lawn filled with trees and a smattering of well placed flowers and plants, it seemed like it was a picture ripped out of a textbook of American historical architecture.     

“You like it?” he asked, not hiding his pleasure in your delight.  

Forgetting about the rain, you opened the door to the truck to get a closer look only to be halted by the droplets hitting your face. “Like it?  I love it!” you gushed, pulling the door shut, glancing at the man who seemed pleased as punch at your approval.  “This is amazing!”

“You should have seen it when I bought it,” he joked. “Absolute train wreck, unlivable. Uninhabitable.”

“You did all this?” you asked.

Giving you a half smile that allowed a hint of dimple to appear at the edge of his beard, Sy seemed to dip his head in brief shyness, or at least humbleness.  “Yeah.  When I’m not deployed.  It's like my form of therapy,” he admitted.  “Making something old look new again.  I like working with my hands.  I did all of it but the electrical, that I called a professional in to do.”

“Aaran, this is amazing.”  All of your troubles of the past week disappeared from your shoulders as the two of you got out of the truck and ran for the front porch, well ran as fast as your work shoes would allow you.  Sy held the pizza above your head trying to keep as much of the rain off of you as possible.  

Once safely inside, your amazement and awe continued.  The interior was a mix of historic and modern, the perfect mix if you were honest.  Toeing off his boots, Sy hung his keys by the door, and carried the pizza past you as you kicked off your shoes to place them next to his wet boots on a mat by the door.  “Make yourself at home,” he announced as he wandered into the next room.  

You glanced at the pictures on the wall, mostly family you assumed by the similar features of the folks you were looking at. You were staring at a photo of Sy and Cougar’s basic training class trying to pick the two men out of the crowd when Aaran reappeared next to you.  “Any luck?” he laughed beside you, knowing what you were doing.  

“No!” you gasped over exasperatedly. Admittedly it has been over 10 years and a lifetime ago.  “Help me?” you ask, eyes never leaving the photo.  

Sy’s finger quickly picked out Cougar, and you cursed yourself for not seeing the resemblance.  “Maybe it's cuz he’s missing his hat,” you surmised out loud, making you both laugh softly.  The laughter caught in your throat the following second as you realized your friend was gone, the levity getting wrapped up in the lump of guilt that suddenly appeared in your throat at the realization that you were having a pleasant moment when you lost your husband and your family so so so recently.  

“They’d want us to be ok, they’d laugh with us,” Sy sagely told you with a soft voice, his fingers brushing against your wrist.  “Hell they are laughing with us if you believe in heaven.”

You know his words were meant to soothe you, you know he had all the best intentions, but his sentiment instead made the tears reappear in your eyes, that knot of pain filling your stomach again.  “Oh, baby,” he said softly, his hands wrapping around your upper arms, pulling you into his embrace.  “I am sorry,” he muttered into the top of your head as you sobbed into his chest.  “I am so sorry for your pain.  I wish I could take it from you.”  

The two of you stood like that for what seemed like an eternity until your replenished tears dried up.  With an unladylike hiccup, you stepped back, wiping at your eyes.  “God, I am sorry, Aaran,” you started, looking at yet another wet spot you had left on his chest.  

“For what?” he asked.  “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”  You looked up at him, and saw the wet lashes framing his eyes.  

“Yes I do!” you insisted, pulling back further from him.  “My silliness is making you sad.”  You try to move away from him suddenly feeling very suffocating and embarrassed by your lack of decorum, ducking your head to hide further.  

His face came into your peripheral view.  “Hey,” Sy reached out and cupped the back of your arms, keeping you in place.  “Look at me,” he quietly commanded when you refused to meet his eyes.  When you did so, you saw his eyes swirl with emotion, several different ones spinning by in the sea of his beautiful irises.  Irises that suddenly reminded you some of your husband, but yet different all the same.  

Aaran gave you a small smile.  “I lost someone I loved in that crash, remember?”  Tears filled your vision, and you saw the same eddying in his eyes.  “And your emotions are not silly,” he carefully insisted. “Never apologize for having emotions, especially around me. Never temper your emotions to make someone else more comfortable.”

You almost winced as he hit on a shockingly exposed nerve.  “You sound like a shrink,” you teased, sarcasm your automatic response to vulnerability.  All you had ever done in your life was push your emotions to the side, help others with theirs, but never address your own.  You were never taught to properly express them and literally no one had ever given you permission to feel them either.  Jake never forced you to hide them, but you realized now you never truly allowed yourself to be completely honest and open with him about them, the trauma of your own upbringing keeping you from showing any emotion at all, simply shoveling it deeper inside, hiding it from the world like a horrible dark secret

“I've seen enough of them over the years I should,” Sy joked, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes.  “Here,” he abruptly changed the topic, holding out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You glanced up at his face before accepting the soft clothing.  “Thought you’d prefer to get out of your stuffy work stuff and be comfortable.”

With a nod, you tucked the clothes under an arm and reached for your bag.  “Bathroom?” 

Sy pointed you in the right direction. “You care what movie we watch?”

“Something mindless,” you said over your shoulder as you head down the hallway.   

You reemerged from the bathroom about ten minutes later, dressed in your borrowed clothes, face cleaned of all traces of make up and tears.   Hanging your clothes and bag on a coat hook, you meandered into the living room.  Sy smiled softly at you from the couch, his eyes taking you in from head to toe.  The clothes were too big for you, you were lucky the sweats had elastic in the ankles so you didn’t trip over them, and the shirt, it hung well past your hips.  

“Feel better,” he asked as you sat on the end opposite him.  He held out an open beer to you.  Taking it, you nodded.  “A little bit,” you admitted before taking a sip.  “So, what are we watching?” 

Grabbing a remote from beside the pizza box, Sy grinned.  “Figured I’d go with a classic.  Big Trouble in Little China.”   

“I haven’t seen that in ages,” you admitted, grabbing for a napkin and a slice of pizza as he pressed play.  You had to admit it was a good choice.  You were both able to relax into a comfortable silence as you ate.  Every once in a while Sy muttered along with one of Jack Burton’s lines of wisdom- “Yes sir, the check is in the mail” - making you snort softly, reminding you a bit of Jake and his own movie quoting habit.  Soon you found yourself with a full belly, a relaxed mind and curling into the arm of the couch, your cold toes tucked under the edge of Sy’s thigh, his hand on your ankle, a blanket thrown over your always cold legs. It wasn’t long after Jack Burton (and Sy) announced that “If we aren’t back by dawn, call the President” that your eyes drifted shut. The week finally caught up with you, and you were quick to drop into a deep sleep, something you hadn’t been able to do since Jake left on the mission all those months ago. 

You slept through the rest of the movie, hardly stirring a little.  You missed Sy turning off the video when it finished.  You also didn’t register him picking you up, carrying you down the hall and through the darkened doorway of a bedroom.  You didn’t realize you had curled your fingers into his shirt when he tried to stand after putting you on the comfortable bed, nor did you notice your soft mutters of “Ni-night, Jakey” and “I love you.”  

But Sy didn’t miss any of it as his heart broke just a little more for you as you happily hummed at his whisper of a kiss your temple to distract you as he gently removed your fingers from his shirt before pulling a warm blanket over you.  

“Ni-night, baby.” 

Part 5

General Tag List: littleone65

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzenenbelzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice

BBTF Tag List: Mis-lil-red