#for some reason I have done a lot of the birthdays in three (three sketches) for ig this year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

threshasketch · 1 year ago

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Wow, so apparently today is the 8th anniversary of me starting this art blog. I started Threshasketch in the September of 2015, and my main blog the year before in June.

In that time, I've gone through drawing OCs, fanart for numerous fandoms, traditional style line work and pencil sketches, digital line work and coloring, painting photo-real style, and so, so many chibi art pieces. Art has been my rock through some really hard times in my life. Posting cute chibis to brighten somebody else's day helped brighten mine.

Since 2015, my country has gone through three different presidencies, the world has gone through (and is still quietly going through) a global pandemic, and I've gone through years of struggling. Most of that struggling has been in the past 5 years, but boy does 5 years sound like a lot of time to be struggling for basic living things like heat and food.

Things were really bad just a few years ago. At one point I only had electricity four hours per day, because I couldn't afford gas for the generator. I uploaded digital art because "scanning" (taking pics of on my phone) traditional line art was hard when the place I was living was so dark. Patreon and art commissions were the only reason I had money for food on many occasions.

I've had to move three different times in the past four years. I got rid of or lost a lot of my belongings to live in a small space. Had to deal with rats in my living space twice in as many years. Had to take my 23-year-old cat to the vet to pass peacefully AND help my parents take their little dog with heart failure to the vet to pass peacefully in the same year.

Did I mention I had major abdominal surgery this summer with months of recovery time? Yeah. That actually went really smoothly. I didn't realize how bad my health was getting for the past few years because it was a gradual problem, but I was exhausted all the time, unable to do much physical activity, and super anemic. Just passed the two month mark since surgery, and am feeling so much better it's shocking remembering how bad off I was before. Cripes, I should have done this years ago.

So why, if art has been a coping method for me, has this blog had barely any updates for years? Well, I overextended myself on art commissions, which made my art escapism into a pressure thing. It's nobody's fault but my own, but several of those commissions did not get finished, and that made art into a guilty thing, so I sort of...shut myself down on Tumblr, because drawing for fun seemed wrong when somebody was waiting on me to finish their art piece. So I stopped drawing at all for a long while. That helped nobody—it just made it so that I wasn't warmed up enough to draw the commissions, either.

I'm just now getting to where I'm financially able to reach out to the people who paid me for commissions and refund them. I've refunded several already. If you are one of my art commission customers, you'll be hearing from me, I promise. I haven't forgotten you, I have every commission I ever took in a list saved on my computer.

Speaking of financially able, I'm no longer supporting myself with art and Patreon alone. For most of The Pandemic Years I've been pouring all of my creative energy into becoming a full-time indie erotica author. I write my own stories, I paint my own covers, I do everything myself. It's the most fun job I've ever had, honestly, and it's paying my bills. ♥

I've managed to build it up into a monthly income somehow, and this winter is looking a lot less terrible than last winter. In general, my living situation is now stable, the roof doesn't leak, the lights all work, hell I even have a functioning shower and the ability to have running hot water.

Anyway, yeah. It's been a rough go of it, and this art blog has been around through it all. I got a new art tablet for my birthday, and drawing feels like being carefree again. Here's to many more years of art. ♥

#8 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #art blog birthday #threshasketch #threshie #I wrote this out on the actual anniversary on the 8th and then put it in the drafts because I feared it was a vent post #but on re-reading it's just me being honest about how lousy things have been LOL #I think most people have had a rough go of things so I'm certainly not alone #anyway yaaaay happy belated art blog anniversary to me #coming back to Tumblr was a great decision #I have a lot of nostalgia attached to it ♥

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ella-cooper · 2 years ago

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“I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.” ― Sylvia Plath

If there was a list of all the things Ella does instead of going to therapy, getting tattoos would be at the top of that list. In a lot of ways they’re armor, mostly random and some that are so intentional they’ll probably never tell you the reason behind all of them. A lot of them were done without reason, just an idea or a dare or a collaboration with one of their favorite artists. The majority of their body is covered in tattoos aside from their neck which they’ve recently made some appointments with Chase to cover.

Chest & Back

The first tattoo Ella got was on their 16th birthday and its on their back, on the back of their right shoulder to be exact. It’s of a hand holding the libra tarot card in honor of their September birthday. They used a fake ID to get it and hid it from their sisters successfully for only a week. It felt like a little taste of freedom and ever since the first taste they have just wanted more and more. All of their early tattoos are on their back and sometimes they joke that it’s like a sticker book of their past. Or things they can easily forget. Most of them are pretty random, some given by friends who just owned tattoo guns and were done on their floor of their living rooms.

Their chest is much of the same but with more refined and stencil like designs. The tattoo that goes partly between their breasts and onto their stomach was done by a friend of theirs from New York who they stayed with one summer. The three daggers represent Ella and their two sisters. Each of their initials are written in tiny letters in the handle of each dagger. They also have an outline of an anatomical heart placed right over their heart and a blue jay on the front of their right shoulder. Blue Jays were their grandmother’s favorite bird.

Legs

A lot of Ella’s favorite tattoos are on their legs. On their right thigh is a tattoo of Storm from X-Men. Their first crush and forever favorite superhero. The skateboard tattoo is on the back of their right calf and the frog with the pipe on top of a mushroom is on the side of their left thigh, That one they got on a trip to California with their younger sister. The rest of the tattoos around their legs are more floral and colorful including the two roses on their knees and vines that wrap around their ankles.

Arms & Hands

The color continues onto Ella’s arms, though the tattoos on their hands are all black and mostly sketches. Their right hand does have a large depiction of a crescent moon and there’s a skull on their left. On their right hand they have their birth year on their knuckles and they have finer stenciled flowers and planets on their wrists. Mostly they put stuff on their hands that they could stand staring at all the time and help them dissociate often.

Their forearms and biceps are more cohesive pieces including the woman smoking a skull on their right bicep. Their left arm is the most colorful, full of more nature and animal pieces. A lot of them were done close together and the ones that are more random, Ella has been thinking about covering to create a full and complete sleeve but they’ve been too lazy to do it. The tombstone tattoo is on the inside of their left forearm.

Ella is basically one big canvas.

#about ella #just for funsies!!

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heliodorwrites · 1 month ago

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So I heard "So Far Away" on a playlist recently and thought ooo Tapestry I wanna listen to it. I don't think I've ever listened to this album in its entirety before and damn there's a reason it spent five weeks number one when it first came out. It's got soft rock banger after banger like the first three songs are so fire.

Anyway how I plan to use it in a future fic sometime and more rambling under the cut because hyperfocus go brrr. Don't read it if you want to be surprised later.

So like Mista already canonically likes at least some easy listening since The Carpenters are listed as his favorite band. You can't tell me he wouldn't adore THE HELL out of his album. Are you kidding me? Maybe one day I'll channel all of my being raised on old music energies into creating a playlist of stuff I think Mista would like. But anyway I think I figured out how to make the artist!Mista AU work.

So I feel in a au setting where his life isn't as dangerous it would be easy to extrapolate his slow living, enjoying smelling the roses kind of life philosophy as he just kind of organically develops art skills since he spends so much time observing that eventually he feels taking a photo to try to show his friends what he sees isn't enough, he needs to reproduce the image himself so he can overlay it with the proper emotions. Most of his art is like landscapes and plants and people doing mundane things all caught at moments when he thought they looked beautiful.

For a reason I'm not gonna spoil right now, in this au Fugo stopped hanging out with the friend group and only still talks to Giorno. Fugo's parents want to do a big celebration to mark Fugo's 25th birthday since it's a quarter of a century, a big year, but mostly they want to show off how successful he is to their friends while their kids his age are just barely out of college. Giorno suggests to them that they get a portrait of Fugo commissioned and offers to arrange for the artist who did the portrait of him hanging in his father's house to do it. Fugo, not realizing that Giorno means Mista agrees to everything, but when the artist comes to his house to do the work it's Mista and everything is hella awkward. Eventually Mista plays Tapestry on his phone to try to get Fugo to chill so he can get some sketches done and they start to talk about their past and why Fugo left. Possibly slow burn second chance at love shenanigans ensue.

I'll probably name the fic after a Carole King song since it would fit instead of calling it Figure Drawing or whatever the fuck when I was first thinking about the concept last year on my old wips post. I really need to update that.

Anyway I realized recently that my ao3 account hit its ten year anniversary in February. Really only recently embraced being a niche little weirdo who writes whatever I want to or I would have a lot more fic output than I do. Where does all the time go, huh? Would you believe I started my account and named it heliodor because I was gonna write LOTR fic with really specific headcanons I had about Erebor after the Hobbit Movies? I never wrote a single one of them lol

#heliodor listens to music #i continue to use my blog wrong and like an online diary because idk why #wtf am i supposed to do here anyway? this website is not easy to navigate i'm so stupid help me

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naneun-no · 2 years ago

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Forget touching grass, go kiss somebody.

Long rant ahead, you’ve been warned 😬

For a community that relies so much on reading peoples’ body language and tells, the majority of BTS shippers seem to have a concerning lack of understanding of how actual humans living a life work.

I swear. Y’all will sit and analyze the hell out of three seconds worth of slowed-down content, but ignore any and all context, extraneous factors (aka concerns that don’t have anything to do with romance and can make someone appear upset, closed off, or just plain tired) and everything that happens after those all-important three seconds.

Looking at you, anons who I’ve seen all pressed over the fact that in the We Photobook Sketch, Jimin was initiating most of the Jikook moments. Some of y’all are insecure jikookers, some are from another ship trying to have a gotcha moment, and some are probably just new to things, but… keep in mind:

1. Content isn’t always released in chronological order.

Yes, this photoshoot behind the scenes is the most recent content released, but that doesn’t mean it’s the most recent thing that happened. @kanmom51 had a great post about this whole photoshoot, and took a guess that it happened around Sep 2021. I think that’s probably right, based on haircuts/colors and piercings. Which would mean this “distance” between JK and JM that you all think you picked up on took place BEFORE: JK getting his attendance stamps in JM’s room all day every day in late 2021, the infamous and adorable “should I come see you?” birthday vlive, and the ass-grabbing, forehead-touching, finger heart-giving, bridal-carrying Jikookery Foolishness Fest that was PTD Las Vegas.

And just because late 2021 and 2022 was a gold mine, and because I know y’all try to dismiss concert behavior as fake fanservice, it was also before: “I’ll keep holding Jiminie ✋😛🤚”, “happy birthday BRO,” the attentive giddy love sesh that was aerial yoga, and this flirty ass conversation:

So… try to orient content on the timeline before making judgments based on it. It will save you a lot of anxiety.

2. Learn the difference between focus and coldness.

Not always, but in general, JK seems to (I’m gonna use an ADHD term because I have it and I strongly suspect he does too but obviously I don’t know for sure don’t come at me) hyperfocus on things, particularly when it’s something like a work photoshoot where there are likely a lot of staff around and there’s a job to get done. Yes, he can goof off at work with the best of them, but for stuff like this (which had a stricter, more professional vibe than say, filming a Run BTS ep), he’s almost always the more reserved one, while Jimin seems to have an easier time shifting between his silly, flirty side and his fierce professional model side. The man can turn it off and on like a light switch, while JK seems to have a harder time shifting his attention and coming in and out of “work mode” (also an ADHD thing, just saying). So yeah, we see JM making eyes at JK in between shots, we see him turning toward JK while JK keeps his gaze on the camera. To me, this does not read as JK being disinterested in JM. It reads as “I have a job to do and I need to stay in the zone or I’ll look dumb as hell in these photos and I’m too pretty for that.” Just my take 🤷‍♀️ Which brings me to…

3. Context is everything.

My spouse and I have been together for nearly 10 years. We still have moments where we are over-the-moon into each other, and we also have moments where work takes priority, where we aren’t as attentive as we should be, where one of us wants attention and the other is focusing on something else (not saying that’s necessarily what was going on during the photoshoot, but it’s possible and a much more reasonable conclusion than JK suddenly falling out of love and JM not noticing). If someone were to make a short video recording us on any given day, our interactions might vary. We might look super close; we might look a little distant. Because real humans in real relationships have normal fluctuations like that. If assorted, curated clips from a 7 minute video (think about that — that shoot probably lasted 4-5 hours at least, and they showed us 7 minutes) are your basis for deciding whether a couple is broken up or still together, you’re basing a whole lot on very little. Which is why I say…

Go Kiss Somebody

Like, not without their permission, but you know what I mean. Go experience falling in love, go connect with someone else and see how every little facial twitch you or they make is not evidence of the deterioration of your whole relationship. When shippers try to make a ship sink or sail based on the micro-expressions on someone’s face during a zoomed-in, slow-mo, three second clip, they reveal that most likely, they’ve only ever experienced romantic relationships in the context of novels, fanfic, tv shows and movies. In other words — stories. Because in a love story, every little detail truly IS about the romantic plot line, otherwise the editors would have cut that superfluous stuff out, because they’ve got a story to tell. But real relationships aren’t like that. Real relationships aren’t streamlined love stories with rising action and a climax and a resolution; they’re real people living meandering lives that happen to include immense love. And that’s the difference. Shit, that’s a whole other post…

#jikook #kookmin #I started off mad but I got philosophical #like damn #go kiss somebody already #bts #bts ships #touch grass #shipping culture

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cartoonsbyandie · 2 years ago

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I almost got scammed! How to avoid my mistakes.

I’ve been pretty quiet on my social medias for a bit for a lot of reasons, and one of them being that I very nearly fell for a scam that would’ve cost me $2000. Several calls to my bank later, it’s finally all been sorted out, which means I can finally talk about the whole thing. Even though I didn’t end up losing much of anything (certainly nowhere near $2000), I don’t want any other commissions artist to go through this for the crime of giving someone the benefit of the doubt that doesn’t deserve it.

I do commissions online. I got a message on Instagram from someone wanting me to do a picture for their daughter’s birthday this month, offering to pay me way above my commission rates ($200) for what I assumed was a rush job. They provided pictures and lots of details about what their daughter liked and what would be good to include in the picture, and I even drew up a sketch for them. The way my commissions work, I take the full payment once the sketch had been approved, and so far, everything was looking normal.

That is, until, they revealed they were going to pay by check. And really I’m just going to give you the biggest TL;DR piece of advice: Just don’t take checks. It’s not worth it. The reason is that they’re prone to scams because when you deposit a check, the funds will show up in your account. That doesn’t mean the check has cleared, and won’t bounce. This is incredibly annoying to research because so many google results will tell you that a check ‘clears’ within 1 to 2 days, but that’s because the law requires the funds to be made available that quickly. If they find out the check is forged or bad-- WHICH CAN TAKE A MONTH OR LONGER-- you not only get hit with a returned item fee, but the money vanishes from your account.

So say, if the person you’re assuming is trustworthy has told you they “accidentally” wrote a check for $2000 instead of $200, and gave some excuse why they couldn’t simply write a new check, and came up with the brilliant suggestion of just having you deposit it and then Zelle them the remaining $1800-- If you do all that, suddenly you’re out $2000.

I came dangerously close to falling for it. When the person wanted to email me a scan of the check (so I could use mobile deposit, which I did because I figured it’s a rush job and they didn’t want to wait to mail the physical check, look I’m not smart okay--) AND THEN suddenly demanded I use Zelle to instantly give them the money, that’s when I got suspicious. I literally googled “Scams that use Zelle” and found my exact situation. But I figured it’d be fine if I waited until the check fully cleared and kept my bank in the loop, which is why I risked depositing it. I figured I was at no risk until I actually sent them the money, and I still wanted to believe this was a legitimate customer, and I really liked the idea of making $200. Which definitely blinded me to better things I could’ve done. Like, you know, not depositing the check and demanding a different method of payment.

It’s been about a forty days since I deposited the check. Three calls to my bank’s fraud department + one physical visit (two of which told me they might find me culpable for depositing the check and burn my account, which was scary) is what it took to get this mess sorted out. ONE OF THOSE CALLS TOLD ME THE CHECK HAD 100% CLEARED AND HAD A 0% CHANCE OF BOUNCING. I almost Zelled this person the money that night.

Seriously. If you get a bad feeling, trust that. That’s the only thing that saved me here. So did getting lots of advice from family and friends about how this stuff works.

TL;DR Here’s a quick and dirty list of red flags I learned just from this single experience:

Insisting on paying with a check is a red flag by itself if I’m honest, but especially if they just mail you an image of it and expect you to mobile deposit it. Seriously just don’t do this I don’t know what I was thinking

Especially especially if they insist on paying with a check and then want you to give them money with some instant form of payment, like Zelle.

If all their accounts have different names. (This one was Jessie something, their email was Shawn, they wanted me to Zelle to another account with a different name.)

If their account is a generic name + number thing. (Like jessie.10 or something.) I know a few legitimate people with accounts like that but it’s just one of many boxes to tick.

If they seem way too trusting to give a stranger on the internet a crazy amount of money with the expectation that you’ll pay them back. I’d never met this person and they were saying they trusted me with the $2000, I just had to give them my word that I’d give it back.

If they’re offering you well above your commissions prices. They want to blind you with the idea of a big payday when they’re paying with imaginary money.

If they put a ton of pressure on you to respond quickly. This person kept spamming me with Instagram audio calls early in the morning or while I was at work.

If they say stuff like this, which honestly was the biggest gift they could’ve given me because it just removed all doubt:

#not art #I don't even know how to tag this #There's a lot I'm leaving out like. A lot #Like I'm aware I'm an idiot but there's gotta be a million idiots like me out there and I don't want anyone else to learn the hard way #Or the REALLY hard way of the scam actually succeeding #I don't want to think about what would've happened if I gave them the money #The account's name right now is andrea_34vo though #And I'm sure these accounts are a dime a dozen #But I might as well share since apparently they're targeting people like me

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thewildwilds · 3 years ago

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The Big Ol’ Spawn Name Write-Up

In which I discuss my thought process and things you might've missed

I get asked a lot why I called her The Spawn. I really have no meaningful reason for this other than it's just something I've always done when referring to fankids/fictional children. Maybe my subconscious keeps thinking about the one spawn episode from The Angry Beavers.

Mie was not always Mie. Other working names for her included Usagi, Haruhi, and Natsuki. Usagi because, y’know, Sailor Moon, Haruhi to harken back to the seasons pattern for the Kuzuryuu siblings (“Fuyu” for winter, “Natsu” for summer, and “Haru” for spring), and Natsuki because I liked the play-on-words of “Natsuki suki” (roughly “I love Natsuki”).

At the moment I made this particular sketch/answered this ask, I was still calling her Haruhi. You can kiiiinda make out the "H" being covered here:

Eventually I ditched the idea of choosing a name based on preconceived patterns and tried to think of how Fuyuhiko and Peko would name their child; that is to say, a child who is her own person, unburdened by the echoes of other people.

That said, Mie’s name does tie into Natsumi’s name slightly. The “Mi” in her name uses the same “Mi” kanji from the name Natsumi.

Speaking of kanji, Mie’s name is made up of the kanji “美/Mi” meaning beauty, and “恵/E” meaning blessing/favor/gift. If you were here from the very start of Mie’s appearances on this blog, you may remember me saying this. (At the time, I got a lot of people guessing Emi and Mieko.)

A baby named “beautiful gift” seemed fitting for a couple who’s had to fight all their lives just to be together to finally start a family.

For all the hints I gave explicitly (name meaning, three letters, starts with M, etc) I did not get a lot of correct guesses! I think I can probably count on one hand (maybe two) the number of correct guesses I got, either in my inbox or in the replies, at least.

One of the latest teaser to Mie’s name was Peko’s birthday comic of this year. Lots of people were able to make out the “Mi”, but what everyone missed was the little drawing of a present covering her name, which alludes back to the “gift” kanji mentioned previously.

By the way, yes, I did actually write “Mie” behind the drawing.

As some people were able to guess, I did tease Mie’s name in the comic where trans Peko chooses her name.

There were a couple instances where I labeled her as “Me.” This was deliberate, albeit vague. Just add in an “I” and you’d have her name. I had thought of very faintly adding in the "I" in these drawings, but eventually chickened out.

As frustrating as the big secret was for probably a lot of you, I hope y'all had fun! Mie really was the perfect name for her, and I haven't wavered on that since I first decided on it years ago!

#anh's ramblings #mie kuzuryuu #the spawn #so many thoughts #so much i kept hidden for so long #it's been a fun ride regardless #thank you guys so much for all the interest in my silly little fankid #i couldn't have imagined it!#it means the world to me!

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years ago

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Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please reblog #nsfk #ish

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ducklooney · 3 years ago

Photo

And now something about comics, I mean Duck comics. Since I haven't drawn Scrooge McDuck (Donald's uncle) for a long time, this time I wanted to draw something about his honor, that is, in honor of one of the best Duck artists and writers ever, of course after Carl Barks, since Barks is still king when it comes to Donald Duck comics and in general. Of course, it's Don Rosa, who turned 70 at the end of June this year, and I wanted to draw in that part regarding his best collection of comics, and it's The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. I wanted to draw this in July, related to Scrooge's birthday, which he celebrates in July (Scrooge, like Donald, has two birthdays, one is on December 26, and the other is on July 8). For some reason I finished the sketch myself that month and suddenly I paused yes so I didn’t do that recently. I’m done now, although it turned out a little bad and I apologize for that.

In this drawing is Scrooge McDuck in three stages of his life, when Scrooge was ten, when Scrooge was in the Klondike when he was digging for gold, and third, when Scrooge was in his old age, or as we know him. He is surrounded by his relatives and rivals with whom Scrooge was in contact during his life. I wanted to put more characters, but unfortunately I don't care and I apologize for that. There are around Scrooge McDuck, his parents (Fergus McDuck and Downy O'Drake), his sisters (Matilda and Hortense McDuck (later Hortense married Quackmore Duck and takes his last name)), Sir Quackly McDuck (Scrooge's ancestor and the spirit in the castle McDuck who was also his guide through the past of the Scottish clan McDuck), Blackheart Beagle (grandfather of the Beagle Boys and Scrooge's greatest rival during his life), Soapy Slick (Scrooge's opponent while Scrooge was in the Klondike), Goldie O'Gilt (Scrooge's rights) love), Flintheart Glomgold (the second richest duck in the world), Magica de Spell, Gyro Gearloose with Little Helper and Scrooge’s nephew Donald Duck with Donald’s nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck.

I posted this in three photos of my drawing, two colored and one unpainted. Sorry for some mistakes, I'm still practicing drawing and drawing motor skills. Also, I drew this as a redraw and blend of two Don Rosa’ artworks. Pictures related:

And last but not least, thank you Don Rosa for The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck and although it's been a long time since I wish him a lot of good years and good health, and for Scrooge (one of my favorite ducks) too. Also this is my gift for @pick-and-shovel-laborer.

Of course, I drew in the style of Don Rosa, with most of these characters having their backs colored because I prefer when they have blue eyes with black pupils than white eyes behind black pupils, I mean the background of the eyes, for sure. Sorry once again that this turned out a little bad and thank you all. I hope that in the coming days, I will draw a little more about Duck comics.

Finally, the music related to that drawing and in that part:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWwSVOo5K_k

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTykcFxIESs

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melkstudio · 3 years ago

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February Update (Sort of?) and plans for March

Hello everyone! This month I'm turning 25, what a milestone! Unfortunately, last week I had to get a medical procedure done (had to get a thrombosed hemorrhoid removed) and the recovery period has been painful, uncomfortable and will most likely last three more weeks.

Like I told you all before, writing has not been possible lately, but my semester ends on the 4th and I'm hoping that by the 6th I can return to writing regularly (within reason and depending on the amount of pain I feel).

My goal before I got sick was to have a similar event to last year, where I reveal the new designs for the characters, but unfortunately only Hazuki has some of the outline done. Some of the sketches I had done originally I do not like (K's, Miwa's), some clothes have given me trouble (Hazuki's, Masa's) and it has to be done with pencil then I have to spend hours tracing over it with a mouse. It's uncomfortable, especially in my state, but who know maybe somehow I'll manage to do it again.

My main focus now is to get through these scenes in chapter 2 (the lake segment and the hiding in Hazuki's house segment) and hopefully I'll be super inspired and go way beyond that part. I could have sworn it did not take me nearly this long to write this chapter the first time around. But oh well, now it's going to be longer so that may be why.

For my birthday, if everything goes according to plan, I might be able to release the twine demo. That is a big MIGHT. I still have lots to get done before then (not counting the portraits which will probably take a few more months), I have to do edits, to polish the demo, to draw some cutesy things, some chibis I don't know, something to catch reader's eyes. I also have to edit the patreon posts that are outdated (again), write some new posts to organize things, redo the masterpost, edit the character pages, prepare the discord server (do I even want to manage a discord server?).

Listen, I know it doesn't have to be perfect, it's fine if it just is, and I also know my resources are more limited than those of others, but I want to be prepared. I want to know that I did everything I could to put my story out there and have it be read and felt, like it was meant to.

Gaining traction would also mean that I could help my family more, which is something that I want as well. As you may or may not know, I live in Venezuela and the extra income helps a lot, even if it might not be much right now. So, whenever the twine demo actually comes out, be sure to share it around okay? That would be nice.

Anyway, I think that's all I can write for today. I'll keep you updated on the birthday thing. Hopefully I do manage to get everything done so that you all can enjoy the new prologue and chapter 1!

#update #interactive fiction

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chrwrites · 3 years ago

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Bad Ideas - Chapter 2: “The first round is free for a lovely couple like you!”

For @astronavigatrix. Sorry I’m so late with the update, hope you like it!

Ch 1

read on ao3

Luka sighed a breath of relief as he found his seat on the train, and smile settled on his face as he watched the city fade into the distance. He closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax.

He was going home.

Exam season was over, and now that he was done with the first year of university, Luka felt like he could breathe again. He still had to wait to get the results, but he could let the nightmare the last weeks had been behind and focus on the familiar warmth that being back in Paris brought instead.

He had been looking forward to staying in the city for more than two days and finally see his friends in a better setting than a rushed meeting, especially Marinette. They did keep in touch while he was away, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person and hanging out like they used to do, not to mention that they barely managed to meet during the short periods of time Luka was back because of Marinette’s busy schedule.

It was rare for them to spend a whole afternoon together, still, Marinette always made sure to be at the train station to say goodbye to him in person. Even when he had to leave early in the morning, she would be there to send him off with a tight hug and fresh out of the oven croissants, “In case you get hungry,” she’d say.

He knew he wouldn't find Marinette welcoming him at Gare de Lyon when he arrived, but he would see her the next day. For now, he was content with seeing his Ma and Juleka waiting for him when he stepped off the train. How long had it been since he last was home? Two months? Juleka didn’t even grumble as he hugged her.

The first thing Luka heard as he got off the car with his sister and Rose was a familiar, happy gasp whose owner he'd have recognised everywhere. He couldn’t hold back the smile curling his lips as he turned to the source of the sound, Marinette’s figure was running towards him in the half empty parking lot and he opened his arms to welcome her.

"I missed you so much!" Marinette’s cheery tone was muffled on his chest, and in answer Luka held her tighter, "I missed you, too," he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he didn't dare to define.

After Marinette let go of his embrace, Luka tried his best to ignore the sudden cold lingering on his skin and greeted the rest of his and Juleka’s friends before they all headed inside the Jardins de Tuileries.

It didn't take long for the group to split up, everyone eager to try different attractions of the carnival fair first, and Luka and Marinette ended up wandering around the park by themselves.

He listened intently to Marinette rambling about this new fashion course she was taking during the summer, smiling at the enthusiasm clear in her voice and indulging in staring at her for longer than he should have. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to her sweet features despite knowing he shouldn’t have thought about her that way. That was part of the reason he decided to leave Paris after all, to clear his mind and come back not thinking about wanting his friend (and his sister’s friend, for goodness sake) to be something more than that.

"I don't understand why you didn't stay in Paris," Marinette said suddenly, interrupting Luka’s stream of thoughts. He sighed, taking some time to think about the answer.

"I figured it was time for Jules to have the room to herself," he shrugged, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans.

Marinette let out a quiet giggle, "Right, but Montpellier is pretty far!" she pouted.

"It takes only three hours to get there with a TGV. Plus, it's unbelievably quiet for a city, and it's only one train stop away from the seaside," Luka said.

Marinette frowned, "Wait— are you telling me that you picked Montpellier because it's close to the sea?”

"... maybe?" Luka shrugged, "I mean, there's also a pretty good university, but you're right. That definitely comes second."

Marinette laughed and shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t even know why I’m surprised, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you!”

There was a moment of silence after that, and Luka's unashamed smile faded as they walked further into the park.

“Do you like it there?” Marinette’s question was unexpected, and Luka hesitated for a second. You're not there.

He shook the thought out of his mind and let out a deep breath before speaking, "Yes, I really like it there. You should come visit me sometime,” he said.

"I’d love to, but I’ll have to find the time for that.”

When Luka nodded in understanding, Marinette added, “See, that’s why you should’ve picked somewhere closer. We could see each other more often!” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. Luka sighed and before he could answer, Marinette spoke again, suddenly looking serious.

"You know…”, she paused and started fiddling with her bracelet. Only then Luka noticed that she was playing with a small cherry blossom charm, the one he’d gotten for her birthday. He had it delivered since he couldn’t be in Paris that day and he had never seen her wearing it until now. Marinette let go of the bracelet, her arm stilling by her side as she turned to face him.

“It's weird not seeing you on board of the Liberty when I come over," she admitted.

Luka looked down at his feet, one hand going to rub the back of his neck in an attempt to ease the sudden change of pace of his heart, and offered Marinette a bashful smile only when he was sure that his heart wasn't going to jump out of his chest because of the way she was looking at him.

What was happening to him? It's not like he didn't know that Marinette missed him. He knew that, and he missed her too, as much as he missed the blissful afternoons she stayed at the Liberty after band practice, when he would provide a soundtrack to her sketching and she’d end up spending more time talking to him than actually getting her work done. That was probably what he missed the most. But how was he supposed to tell her that when his stomach had started twisting and his hands were sweating?

Maybe he just wasn't used to seeing her that often anymore, things would get back to normal for him now that they could see each other without longing for the next time they would meet again. It’s not like Marinette saying that she was his girlfriend that one time still lingered on him sometimes and he couldn't shake that off.

He took a deep breath, finally facing Marinette and ready to tell her how cute it was that she missed him and how he wished to–

“Do you want to have a go with the Balloon Pop game?” a woman was waving in their direction, a happy welcoming smile on her face as she gestured at the small balloons behind her.

Luka let out a sigh of relief and felt his shoulders relax, thankful for that woman saving him from saying stuff he would have probably regretted.

“The first round is free for a lovely couple like you!” the woman continued.

Actually, forget that.

Marinette giggled at the comment and wrapped her hand around his wrist to pull him towards the stand, and Luka’s feet shuffled against his will, “Marinette…” he protested weakly when he found himself in front of the stand.

“You have to pop at least four balloons to get one prize for your girlfriend”, the woman said.

Luka felt his throat go dry, his brain struggled to get his mouth to move, “I–I'm not– She's–”

“Aw, Lu, come on! We haven’t tried anything yet!” Marinette said cheerfully, her hand wrapping around his arm as she looked at the exposed prizes. She pointed at a teal stuffed snake with huge pink eyes that was standing on the top shelf, “I want that one!”

Luka’s mouth twisted, and Marinette blinked at the confused frown forming on his face. She raised her index to smooth the crease between his eyebrows before pouting, "Please?"

Luka sighed, shaking his head before giving in, "Alright," he said, leaning to the counter.

The woman handed him five darts and winked at him. Luka focused on the target and held his breath until he heard the sound of the first balloon popping and Marinette's happy cheer. He couldn't help the grin spreading on his face, his stomach twisting in an unusually pleasant way. He was happy that she was cheering on him, and that made him only more determined.

He threw the other two darts without much effort and, incredibly enough, both times he managed to make the balloons pop. But when Marinette brushed his arm to soothe his tense muscles, he got distracted and the dart landed right next to the balloon it was supposed to hit.

"Not fair, you've distracted me", he teased, making Marinette roll her eyes and take a step away from him, raising her hands in defeat.

Luka steadied himself, he couldn’t miss his target now. Not when he was almost there, not when that would make Marinette happy. He threw the dart, and heard the last balloon popping instead of watching it. Marinette gasped, but soon enough she was squealing by his side, "I know you could do it!"

The woman at the stand applauded, surprise clear on her face, "Congratulations!" she said, handing the small snake to Marinette, who squeezed it closer to her as she leaned on her tiptoes to give Luka a quick kiss on the cheek, “Thank you!”

That had him smiling like a fool for the rest of the day. Soon after they left the stand and walked further into the park, Marinette sighed, “I can't believe that woman thought we were dating.”

Luka shook his head, “I can't believe that you went on with that anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette asked, raising her head to better look at him, “She said it was free for couples, and this – she proudly held the snake up to his face – was too cute to be left there.”

“I’m just impressed that you can’t lie to save your life but apparently you don’t have any problem when it comes to cute stuffed animals."

“Well, cute animals are worth it," Marinette said, "Besides, these stands are overpriced and rigged. I’m surprised you actually managed to win this without needing a second chance."

Luka giggled, "What can I say, I'm a man of many talents."

They basked in the sun, casually strolling around the park and trying the different attractions. When they got tired of wandering around, they stopped to get some ice cream and rested in the shade of a tree.

The sun flickered on Marinette's midnight hair as she gesticulated about something that had happened at the bakery the previous morning, and Luka tried really hard to focus on what she was saying instead of the way her lips moved or how her hands floated in the air, but no matter how hard he tried, he ended up getting lost in her sweet features, her voice was dimmed down by the sound his heart thundering in his chest.

Stupid, Luka.

Wasn’t that the reason he decided to get away from Paris? That way, he would be able to keep her friendship and not be tempted to blurt out his feelings or worse, tell her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend for real. He tried so hard to stop thinking about that time she came to his rescue the month before lycée was over, but that exact moment flooded his mind when he was around her and there was nothing he could do about it.

He still cared too much for her to let his stupid feelings ruin their friendship, so he did what he could and took the first chance to step back before he could do something he could regret. It was working, kind of.

The sun was low in the sky when Luka and Marinette met with the rest of their friends, the carnival attractions lit up the place in an explosion of colours and the group went on the different rides together. For the first time in a while, Luka’s mind felt light.

When Ivan suggested to go on the bumper cars and split in teams, Marinette and Luka ended up together again.

The perks of being the only singles in the group.

Marinette insisted on driving her and Luka's vehicle. She put her stuffed snake in her bag before giving it to him so he could keep it safe, its head peeking out. “Take care of it,” she said before the ride began and she steered the wheel in the direction of their friends.

She laughed when she hit Ivan and Mylene's car, and Luka felt drawn by the sound ringing in his left ear. Turning to look at her was a mistake, for the surprised gasps and the silly faces she made when someone hit their car unexpectedly made her look even cuter.

It was beautiful, seeing her happy and relaxed like that. His hands twitched on his knees, but when he found himself under the stern glare of his sister after another hit from the bumper car she was sharing with Rose, Luka gathered himself and tried his best not to focus that much on Marinette or on the way the lights of the games flickered on her pretty face.

“Ah, that was fun!” Marinette sighed happily when she sat on the passenger seat of Luka’s car, and she smiled when he asked her to pick the music as they left the parking lot. Luka ignored Juleka's inquisitive gaze coming from the backseat, engaging in a conversation with Rose about Jagged Stone’s newest single to distract himself instead.

He gave Marinette a small smile when they reached her house, and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before saying goodnight to him, Juleka and Rose and closing the door behind her. Luka's hand tightened on the steering wheel in an useless attempt to recompose himself.

He started the car again, his eyes on the road as he steered away from the bakery, and Rose called for his attention, “Sooo… what’s going on between you and Marinette?” she asked, he could see her eyebrows rising from the rearview mirror.

“There’s nothing going on,” Luka said absently.

Juleka huffed, and Rose leaned as much as the seat belt allowed her to look at him, “I wouldn't call that nothing,” she tutted.

“What do you mean?”

“Aw, come on Lu, don’t play dumb with me! Are you two dating? Or maybe you’re just testing the waters since you can’t see each other that much and that’s fine, too. I mean, you two would be so cute together and…

“Rose…” Luka said a little breathlessly, pondering the idea of stopping the car in the middle of the road to interrupt Rose’s excited rambling, “We’ve already been through this. No.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, “… you were so cute today, I’m sure she likes you a lot, just as much as you do. Who wouldn’t like you? You’re such a gentleman, and Marinette is incredible, isn’t she? You guys are the perfect m—

“Rose!” Luka’s voice came out louder than he intended, but at least it stopped Rose from finishing the sentence. The girl blinked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat, “I don’t like her. Not in that way, at least.” Luka lied, hoping to sound as convinced as he wished to be.

“But… you won a stuffed animal for her!” Rose protested, “It's like one of the most romantic things ever! You don’t have to hide this from us, Lu.”

“It's not what it looks like…” Luka warned, but, again, Rose didn't seem to be interested in what he had to say, “... and then we could have double dates and we'd have so much fun!!!”

“Rose, please…” Luka sighed, but it wasn't until Juleka called her attention that the girl stopped babbling about him and Marinette together with dreamy eyes.

“Am I wrong, Jule?” Rose whined, and Juleka shook her head, “He’s just being stupid as always.”

Great, Juleka. Thank you.

“Guys,” he groaned, “I'll tell you again, Marinette and I are just friends. It's not what it looks like.”

Except he kind of wished it was.

#lukanette #endgme lukanette #pro lukamari #lbsc exchange 2021 #fic: bad ideas

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spencerreidslove · 4 years ago

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Let’s Be Bad

A/N: I was rewatching season 6 episode 13 “The Thirteenth Step” when it hit me. What if Spencer and Y/N were a crime duo being hunted by the BAU? So this idea was born. This fic is my baby and probably one of the longest things I have ever written. There is mentions of aclchol, a couple sexual themes, and normal Criminal Minds case stuff, so be aware. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 with their interrogation and stuff.

————-

“Buckle up crime fighters, because this one is bad.” Garcia said, standing up at the board. She clicked the remote to show a murder scene, four bodies in total, in a totally destroyed gas station.

“Not only did our bad guy murder four people last night in Chandler, Arizona, the police believe that he also did this.”

Gracia clicked her remote and the picture changed to another scene, six bodies this time, in a drugstore.

“A massacre just outside of Las Vegas, three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks is a long cooling off period.” Rossi said.

“M.O’s the same, though. All shot in the head and then all dragged into a line, store totally destroyed.” Prentiss said.

“With last night’s murder bringing the body count up to 10, the police need our help now. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch said, standing up from the table.

“Seriously? You want to go somewhere cold?” Spencer asked as you made your way into a small sandwich shop, just over the Utah border.

“Yes! Imagine waking up on Christmas Day to a white Christmas.” You said, wrapping your arms around one of Spencer’s.

“Where would we go that’s like that?” He asked, looking up at the menu, printed on a board.

“Wyoming. Up in the mountains. It’s nice there. We’ll get a cabin, live up there, together.”

“Alright,” Spencer said, smiling. “We’ll go to Wyoming. After.” He put one of his arms around your shoulders.

“After.” You agreed.

The two of you made your way to the counter, where a man, no older than 20 or so was waiting.

“What can I get you?” He asked, cleaning a spot on the counter.

He looked up and immediately his eyes latched onto yours.

Spencer said his sandwich order, but the boy didn’t seem to hear him. He was too busy staring at you, making you very uncomfortable.

“Hey.” Spencer said, slamming his hand on the counter. This seemed to knock the boy out of his trance.

“Sorry.” The boy said, still not taking his eyes off you.

“Take your eyes off my girlfriend and take our orders.” Spencer said, getting angrier.

“Sorry, she’s just like really pretty.” The boy said. Under his breath he mumbled, “I don’t see how she ended up with you.”

“That’s it.” Spencer said. He reached into his waistband and pulled out his pistol. Spencer quickly shot the boy in the head, and then turned to the other two patrons in the store. He quickly shot them, and then started moving to put them in a line.

This wasn’t the plan. You had only killed 2 days ago, the police would be quick to link you to this murder. But, Spencer sometimes had a temper and when it took over, there was no going back.

You pulled out your own pistol, and shot the remaining store worker who had come out from the back room.

“I’ll line them up.” You said to Spencer. “Go clear the security cameras.”

Spencer nodded and went into the back room. You spent the next few minutes lining the bodies up in a row. When you went into the back room, you saw Spencer toying with the panel that controlled the cameras.

The cameras quickly went blank, and only showed dark screens.

“I’m so glad you’re smart enough to know how to do that.” You said.

“IQ of 187 sweetheart.” Spencer said. “C’mon, let’s get going before the cops show up.”

“Hotch!” Emily called putting across the parking lot. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

Hotch turned his attention from the local police officer to Emily.

“A witness was next door at the craft store and saw a man and woman leave the sandwich shop together a couple of minutes after the gunfire.” Emily said.

“We’re looking for a man and woman killing team?” Hotch asked.

Emily shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Another witness said he saw the back of the liscine plate from across the street.” Morgan said, coming up to the group. “He didn’t get any numbers but he saw it was from Nevada.”

“Makes sense of their first murder was in Vegas.” Emily said.

“Prentiss, make sure the witness who saw the man and woman gets to a sketch artist. Morgan, see if the man remembers what type of car they were driving, then see if Garcia can find anybody from Nevada who drives that model.” Hotch said, directing out tasks.

“Going from three weeks to a 2 day cooling period is a massive deescalation.” Rossi said. “Something in that shop must’ve set them off.”

“You said the security cameras were wiped?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, you can’t even access them now.” Rossi said.

“Get then to Garcia, she’s the only person who might be able to get them back and working”.

“They’ve found out that we’re a man and a woman team.” You said, calling out to Spencer, who was in the bathroom. You were laying on the bed in a random hotel, watching the news, where a blonde woman was talking about your most recent murder.

“Doesn’t matter. They haven’t linked us to the others, have they?” Spencer asked, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“They don’t have a clue.” You said.

“Good. For all they know we just shoot random people. They have no clue about the others.” He said.

You smiled as he came over beside you and started kissing your neck. “They’re never gonna get us.” He said.

You laughed a little as Spencer nicked lower on your neck.

“They’re too stupid to know what we’ve done.” You said. You could feel Spencer smile as he continued his kisses lower.

“What have you got Garcia?” Hotch asked to the laptop that was sitting on a table in the local police precinct.

“Not a lot, sir. Whoever wiped these cameras is some kind of genius. It’s nearly impossible to get the footage. And I am a cyber genius.” Garcia said.

“So you can’t get any footage off them?”

“Sir, I said it was nearly impossible. I will have this footage recovered wether it kills me. Au revoir!” Garcia said, signing off.

“These sketches aren’t helpful in the slightest.” Prentiss said dropping the pictures on the table. “The witness said she only saw the side profile of the woman and the man had sunglasses on and was faced away from her for most of the time.”

Hotch sighed. “We don’t have enough.”

“Ok, why these people? Why these places? They’re clearly going somewhere, but where is that?” Morgan asked.

“We have too many questions and not enough answers.” JJ said.

You were laying across the backseat of the car, your head in Spencer’s lap. You were drinking some kind of random alcohol Spencer had picked up straight out of the bottle.

“I can’t believe we’re here.” Spencer said, stroking your hair and looking out of the window.

“I could’ve waited.” You said.

Your car was parked down the street from your childhood home. It was your brother’s birthday and you knew he would be home. It was finally time to exact your revenge, just had Spencer did.

“Y/N, c’mon. It’ll be good for him to be gone.” Spencer said. “Plus, I get to see your childhood room in all its glory.”

You laughed a little and shoved him lightly. “You got it?” You asked.

Spencer moved as he reachedfor his bag in the front seat. He pulled out a small vile of poison. “Wouldn’t forget it.”

You slowly sat up. “We have a birthday party to attend.”

“Oh!” Garcia cried, looking at her computer screen.

She quickly reached over and dialed for Hotch’s phone number. “What have you got, Garcia?”

“I got the footage back! It took a lot of work and a lot of trouble but I got it! It’s already sent to your tablets.”

Hotch picked up the tablet and clicked play on the video Garcia sent him. In the video, a young man and woman were walking into a sandwich shop, talking and holding hands.

“Keep an eye on those customers that just walked in.” Garcia said.

They reached the counter and engaged in a heated discussion with a worker.

“There’s no sound on the original video, so I don’t know what they’re saying.” Garcia said.

The man took a pistol out of his waistband and shot the worker, and then turned and shop the other customers. The woman reached and grabbed a pistol and shop the other employee that had come running out.

The woman began lining the bodies up while the man disappeared into the back room. The woman joined him, and then the cameras went dark.

“Garcia, run their faces, see if anything comes up.” Hotch said.

“Already on it. If they have ever been photographed, I will find their entire life.”

Hotch let out a sigh of relief.

They finally had a break in the case.

“I’m nervous.” You said. You and Spencer were standing on the front porch of your childhood house, waiting to ring the bell.

“It’ll be fine. We get in, act all friendly, and then we put it into their drinks, and then we get out.” Spencer said, coming over and rubbing your back.

“Alright.” You said, ringing the doorbell.

There was a moment before somebody came to the door. “Y/N?” A woman asked on the other side of the door.

“Hi, Mom.” You said.

“I thought you said you’d never wanted to come back here again?” Your mom asked.

“Yeah, well things change.” You said. “This is Spencer, he’s coming in too.”

You and Spencer made your way past your mom into the living room where your brother and his wife were sitting.

“Y/N?” You brother asked.

“Max.” You said, addressing him. “Happy Birthday.” It took everything in your power not to slap him. He was the reason for all your suffering.

“It’s nice to see you.” He said, standing up and going to hug you. You flinched slightly, but still managed to hug him back. He squeezed you just a little too tightly.

“And who’s this?” Max asked, looking at Spencer.

“Spencer.” You said.

Max sighed and shook his head. “Never one to elaborate.” He stuck out his hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer kindly shook it back, giving Max just the slightest smile.

“Happy Birthday.” Spencer said.

You caught Spencer’s eye as Max moved to sit back down. It would be a happy birthday, just not for Max.

“We are looking for a man and woman killing team, they are most likely in a relationship and are on a mission.” Hotch said, standing in front of the local PD.

“At this time we do not know what their mission is, but we believe they are on a trip to reach that point. They started in Nevada, and were last seen in Utah. They could be headed for any of the surrounding states, including back to Nevada or Arizona.” Prentiss said.

“They are rapidly devolving, as they went from having a three week cooling off period, to two days. We don’t know when they’ll strike again and have to catch them sooner rather than later.” Rossi said.

“All of their attacks have been in small stores; a drug store, a gas station, a sandwich shop. We believe they choose these places due to personal connection to one. Whoever they are going after probably owns a small store.” Morgan said.

“With that in mind, we suggest all owners of small stores who know somebody who looks like this, to keep an eye out. Do not try to approach them, they are armed and dangerous.” JJ said, from her place outside, briefing the news.

“Everybody keep an eye out and be vigilant.” Hotch said.

The crowd dispersed. Morgan’s phone began to ring.

“Talk to me Babygirl.” He said, answering.

“Well, tall dark and handsome I have some great news for you. I got a hit off the faces from the security feed.” Garcia said.

Morgan put her on speakerphone and the team gathered around to listen.

“Your man is Spencer Reid. Child prodigy from Las Vegas, he graduated high school at age 12 and his IQ tests 187. He dropped out of college at age 16 due to the fact that his mother’s schizophrenia was getting worse. Reid became her full time caregiver until around age 25, when he sighned her up for a new drug test that involved her living in a new campus.

“It seemed to be working, until a year ago when the main Doctor administered a new drug cocktail that was not FDA approved, and ended up killing Reid’s mother and several other patients.” Garcia said.

“Garcia, where’s that doctor now? They might be going to kill him if they both lost a parent.” Rossi said.

“I would say yes, but it seems like they already have. Four weeks ago the doctor, his wife, and son were found dead in their apartment from cyanide poisoning.” Garcia said.

“What about the girl?” Prentiss asked.

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is from Silverton, Colorado. She was working in a casino in Vegas until around a month ago.”

“Must be how they met.” Morgan said.

“She filed several cases against her older brother Max Y/L/N for physical abuse, but the charges were dropped everytime. From the looks of her hospital records it was bad.”

“They’ve exacted their revenge on Reid’s nemesis, now they want revenge for Y/N. Garcia what’s Max’s address?” Hotch said.

“He won’t be there. On his wife’s Instagram it says they’re going home for his birthday. I’ve sent you that address.” Garcia said.

“We need to get there, and fast.” Rossi said.

Talking and laughing with your family for several hours was painful, and Spencer could tell. They had watched you suffer for years at the hands of your brother, and did nothing.

“Why don’t I refill everybody’s drinks?” You asked, standing up.

“I’ll help you.” Spencer said.

After you had collected everybody’s cups, you made your way to the kitchen where you filled everybody’s cups with what they had asked for.

Spencer pulled the cyanide vial out of his pocket, and put a little bit in each cup. When you returned to the living room, you handed everybody their cups and watched as they took drinks.

It would be a few minutes before the poison started to kick in, but you couldn’t wait.

After a few moments, your mom started to choke.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Your dad asked. Then he started to choke. After just a few seconds, everybody was on the floor, choking in pain.

You and Spencer quickly came around, grabbing phones and smashing them with your heels, making sure no one could call 911.

When you reached Max, you kicked his face. “That’s what you get you son of a bitch!”

You kicked him again, and again. Before you could do some more damage, Spencer grabbed your arm.

“We better get out of here, darling. We have a lot of ground to cover.” He said. You nodded and followed him out of the house, with one last slam of the door.

“Dammit!” Morgan said, entering the house and seeing that all members of the Y/L/N family were dead in the living room floor.

“They’ve already been here.”

“Hotch, these bodies are still warm, they can’t be far away.” Prentiss said. “We probably just missed them.”

“Hey! We just got a hit from APB, their car was seen headed twoards a hotel a few miles from here.” The local sheriff said.

“Dave stay here and figure out what happened, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, with me.” Hotch said.

You and Spencer we laying on your bed in your hotel room, drinking the same alcohol from earlier.

“You were right.” You said.

“I am about most things. Be more specific.” Spencer said, taking the bottle from you.

“That it would feel good to have him gone.” You said. “I already feel twenty times freer.”

“I knew you would.” Spencer said. He placed the bottle on the bed side table and rolled ove on top of you. “I know lots of things that would make you feel good.”

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.

“Spencer Reid! Y/N Y/L/N! This is the FBI open the door!” A male voice called from the outside.

You and Spencer both looked at each other in terror.

Could they maybe have found us? Your eyes asked.

The door was suddenly knocked open and FBI agents were flooding into your room.

Spencer and you were being pulled apart and cuffed.

“Spencer Reid, Y/N Y/L/N, you are being charged with the murders of 21 people.” A serious looking man said.

“What?” You said. “You have the wrong people!”

“No we’re pretty sure we don’t.” A brunette woman said.

“You have to have the wrong people! We haven’t done anything!” Spencer said.

You were both being hauled up by the agents behind you.

“Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” The agent behind you said, reading off your Miranda rights.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s as you were pulled to separate police cars.

Could this really be it? You thought. It looked like it just might be.

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @just-damn-bored @andreasworlsboring101

#aaron hotchner #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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immacaria · 3 years ago

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Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

_____________________________________________________________

It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

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