#honestly it's quite stupid how much i pressure myself to draw Well every fucking time. but it is what it is

[feuxx]

the more days pass without drawing and pressuring myself to draw, the lighter and more eager to draw i find myself to be 🥹

[rhysismydaddy]

Inn Scene for Elriel

What would Elriel do if it was them on that one bed at the inn (where Feyre said she wanted 'fun') instead of Feysand? Would it be smut? Or sweet fluff? Can you please write this? I don't mind if it is steamy or fluffy! Thanks!!

Might I raise you and say both? HA. Wrote it this way because I came back to edit :)

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There’s nothing, absolutely no sign whatsoever, that indicates the man next to me is awake, but I know he is. 

His breathing is even and deep, but it’s like I can sense his attention on me. Even though his eyes are closed. His entire being seems tuned into mine, and it puts me on edge, even as I pretend to sleep. 

Honestly, I don’t think either one of us has relaxed ever since the owner of this horrible little inn told us there was only one room available. With one very small bed. 

It apparently wasn’t ideal, but we don’t have any other option. We’re making our way back to Velaris from a tense trip to the Illyrian camp Azriel had grown up in, and there’s nothing around for at least another days time. 

Cold and cranky, we’d climbed the stairs silently and changed into dry clothes, then gotten into bed and begun to dutifully ignore each other. 

At least, I am. 

He very well could be just trying to go to sleep. 

That’s the problem with Azriel, I’ve discovered. He never shows any reaction. I’m pretty sure I could stand in front of him and strip every last piece of clothing off and he wouldn’t blink an eye. Hell, he’d probably just give me that long-suffering sigh and ask what I was doing.

No reaction. Ever.

It makes being attracted to him extremely irritating. 

Flopping onto my side dramatically, I poke him in the shoulder and announce, “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re not trying.”

“Oh, come on. Wake up and talk to me.” He of course doesn’t, so I continue my list of demands. “Tell me about Hybern. Or your favorite thing to do. Or-”

“Go to sleep.”

I brood for a few minutes over his tone. Apparently he’s dead set on ignoring me tonight. 

Except I’m tired of being ignored. 

I’m ignored every single day of my life, and I think I’ve had enough of it. 

I sigh heavily and decide to test out my “no-reaction” theory. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, we could always just have sex.”

His eyes fly open so fast I laugh. “What?”

Is that interest in his voice, or incredulity? Or maybe both?

Trying to be casual, I say, “You heard me perfectly well, Azriel.”

“Yes, but I don’t know why you’d say something like that-”

“Because I’d like to have sex with you,” I declare, finding that now that I’ve actually said the words, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. He makes a strange, choking sound that lets me know I’ve really surprised him, and I laugh again. “You know, for someone 500 years old, you’re pretty stupid.”

Once he’s recovered enough to speak, he asks, “Why in the world would you want to have sex with me?”

He says it like he honestly doesn’t know. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve me or something. 

Bracing myself up on one arm, I look down at him. His hair’s an inky spill on the pillow, and it looks so soft I have trouble not reaching and running my fingers through it. “Because you’re loyal and noble and attractive. Because you’re the only one who treats me like a person, not some doll that needs to be protected. Because you see me as who I really am.”

“And who are you, Elain?”

That’s a good question. 

“I’m just a woman. One who wants you, and has since the moment we met.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t see why this has to be complicated. It wouldn’t be for anyone else.”

“Because you’re not just anyone, Elain.” His eyes narrow, the spy in him determined to get all the information possible out of me. “Is that all you want from me then? Just sex?”

I ask myself the same question, but the answer is that I don’t really know. All I know is that for the first time in twenty years, I’m attracted to someone and want to do something about it. 

For the first time, I want to stop caring and just live. 

I’ve never been with a man; the closest I ever came was when Grayson kissed me after proposing. It was quick and clean, and I didn’t feel half as excited as I do when when I even look at Azriel.

So I have to wonder... what would it be like to kiss Azriel? To feel his body against mine, to see a smile on his face and know it’s from something I’ve done?

“I want... fun.” He raises a dark eyebrow, but I see the flare in his eyes. “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted anyone, but I want you, and I know you want me to.”

For a moment, he just lays there, looking up at me. My confidence starts to waver, just enough for me to ask shakily, “Am I wrong?”

Have I really misread a dozen lingering glances and sly smiles? Or have I been reading into something nonexistent? Or-

He’s on me in an instant, lips meeting mine and shutting the uncertainty off easily. It’s a soft and sweet and simple kiss, similar to the one Grayson gave me, but unlike my first kiss, my entire body comes alive. 

“No, Elain. You’re not wrong.” Azriel pulls back, hazel eyes searching my face, and gives me a very male look. “How much fun, exactly, are you trying to have?”

My lips are pulled into a smile as I put them back against his, and his hands slip into my hair, fingers threading through it carefully. Mine find his shoulders to push him on his back, but he sits up instantly, a serous look on his face. “Wings.”

That’s all the explanation I get before his arms are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I shiver from the chill and lack of blankets around me, and his hands slide over my arms, then his wings are around us, creating a dark, warm cocoon. 

A calloused hand guides my leg around his waist, aligning our hips, and I can’t hardly breathe at the rush of heat that shoots through me. 

He hears my harsh intake of breath and pulls back to look at me. 

Moving so slowly I squirm, his hands slip under the hem of my sweater, palms flat against my back. He watches my face as they move up, and eyes locked onto mine even as it comes off. 

Then they drop to track the movement of his fingertips tracing over my skin and coming to the three faint freckles just below my collarbone. He smiles as he spots them, then leans in to press his mouth against my skin. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, the rough timber of his voice rattling through me. 

I run my hands through his hair and he tilts his head back to look me in the eyes again. I get a little lost in him, in the so-obvious reaction he isn’t bothering to hide anymore. “Say stop, and I will. No questions, no judgement. Okay?”

“I won’t.”

His lips twitch, but he insists, “Say okay anyway.”

“Okay,” I whisper back, barely getting the words out before his mouth is back on mine. 

His chin nudges mine to the side, then his lips are working their way down the column of my throat. A gasp escapes me as he sucks on the place my neck meets my shoulder, and his lips curve into a smile. 

But he doesn’t stop.

He moves down to my chest, hands coming up to guide my breasts towards his mouth. Another gasp, then a shocked moan, slips out of me as his tongue swirls around the peak of one. 

Everything I thought I knew goes out the window as he kisses his way to the other, but I don’t care enough to be bothered by my lack of experience. 

My hips seem to move on their own accord, churning sloppily against his, and his hands drop to guide them.  

His lips meet mine again, tongue teasing mine, and I know right now how much trouble I’m in. I’m practically trembling with need, and all he’s done is kiss me. 

But, gods above, I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. 

I release his name in a a sigh as his hand sneaks around my waist to toy with the hem of my leggings, my entire focus seeming to narrow to that spot. 

Azriel pulls back again right as his fingers slip between the fabric and brush against my skin. I try to kiss him again, but he evades and grins. “I want to watch.”

Oh, gods. 

His fingertips barely graze my center, giving me the lightest bit of contact, but my hips jerk anyway. He does it again, shifting slightly so he can see better, and the knowledge that he’s watching himself touch me is almost too much. 

Another soft moan escapes me as his thumb makes a small circle, and the caramel in his eyes seems to go molten. “Feel good?”

I nod immediately, and his grin grows. 

He slowly pushes a finger inside me, that thumb continuing to draw circles to keep me relaxed. He starts moving, somehow providing exactly the right amount of pressure to make me breathless.

And I think I’ve never felt so alive.

He leans to press a soft kiss to the column of my throat, whispering, “Are you having fun, Elain?”

A tremor works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Almost.”

My hips are moving faster now, and he moves his fingers in rhythm, murmuring something I can’t quite hear. Soon I’m clutching his shoulders and feeling a strange sort of tension settle in my legs. 

“Azriel.” He curls his finger, and my thighs squeeze his waist. “Azriel.”

“Come on, baby,” he encourages, pushing into me a little harder. “Come for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back, even though I listen to him anyway. My legs go tight around him, my back arches into his chest, and I release a loud groan I’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. 

But right now, I don’t care, because it feels like I have fucking lightening in my veins, and I’ve never felt anything so intense.

When I open my eyes, I see him watching me, and the realization that he saw all that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Wow.”

He grins. “Are you tired yet?”

I answer him by falling bac and grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him with me. Even though he could easily stop me, he gives in, landing on top of me softly and pressing me down into the lumpy mattress. His wings fall around us protectively, blanketing us in darkness. 

Blindly, I reach a hand toward them, hearing his sharp intake of breath as my finger meets down the sinewy material. 

“Elain.”

I ignore the pained way he says my name and do it again, then gasp as my hands are suddenly pinned above my head, his grip definitely firm but not painful.

For a minute, I’d forgotten who exactly I was in bed with. I’d forgotten that Azriel is nothing like any of the men I’ve met before. He’s old and powerful and... just more.  

It’s addictive.

His weight is making my mind spin, our chests roughly colliding with every gasping breath I manage to take. 

“Elain, you have to stop that,” he admonishes, pressing his hips to mine roughly so I can feel the affect of my teasing. “I’m not... I can’t-.”

“That’s a lie.”

He gives me a flat look, and my lips twitch. But an edge of seriousness grows into his gaze as he tells me, “I’m not taking your virginity in shithole. You deserve better.”

“I swear that between the two of us, you’re the only one who cares about that.”

He could take me in the middle of a snowstorm and I wouldn’t even care.

“I know, but... I don’t want you to regret me. I’ve seen what something like that does to a female, and I refuse to give you anything less than you deserve.” 

The words his a deep cord in me, and the sadness in his fierce eyes makes my chest hurt. “I could never regret you, Azriel. But I understand.”

He nods once, the gesture simple, and suddenly leans back up to lift me and put me back in my original spot on the bed. Curling behind me, Azriel wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

I’m not quite ready. “I don’t know if I can, with you stabbing me with your-”

“Sleep, Elain.”

Still not ready. “What happens when we go back to the House of Wind? Will that be a fancy and deserving enough of a place for you to deflower me?”

He chuckles, arms going tighter around me, and mumbles against my neck, “We’ll see.”

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TAGS: @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Five

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N: Any names or info about Henry’s family is completely made up and all the gifs I found on google (feel free to contact me for credit if they’re yours!). I would love to hear any feedback on the story so far! :)

______________

May. 5. 2020

"Mum!" I shouted from the kitchen as I admired my creation on the counter. "Where exactly do the Cavills live?"

I heard brief footsteps before my mother's head popped into the kitchen.

"Oh, wow, Brookie," She gasped. "That looks incredible!"

I grinned proudly at the beautiful cake on the counter. It was three tiered and designed to look like Superman. The top being his head, the middle being his torso and the bottom being his bottom half. Complete with cape, curl on his forehead and Superman logo all made out of fondant icing.

"Thank you. Do you think I could walk it over or would I need to take the car?"

"Hm, walking might be safest," She mused as she grabbed her phone off the counter to take a picture. "It's not far and I can come with you if you don't mind. I wouldn't mind saying hello to Marianne."

"That would be great. I'd feel better having someone else to help support it."

"Perfect!" She nodded. "Honestly, darling, this is magnificent. The detail is amazing."

"Thanks," I smiled. "I just need to change quickly and we can go."

She didn't answer as she was so wrapped up in photographing my work so I scurried off up to my room, buzzing with excitement.

****

May was always a tricky time for choosing how to dress. It wasn't overly warm, only about fifteen degrees, but the cool weather we'd had the week before made it seem a lot warmer than it actually was. Carrying the cake would be tricky and I didn't want to show up to Henry's house all sweaty and gross, but I also didn't want to show up dressed for the middle of summer and have him think I was insane.

I groaned as I tossed another shirt disapprovingly onto my bed and heard a giggle from the door.

"Are you struggling?" Cassie teased as she moved into the room and sat on the bed. "It looks like a hurricane has been through here."

"I don't know what to wear," I whined. "I've not seen him in person since we've started talking, I want to make a good impression."

"You're just dropping off a cake, Brooke, you're not even going on a date."

Her statement was intended to calm me down and take the pressure off a bit, but it did the opposite. My cheeks heated up and I suddenly felt incredibly silly.

"I know," I bit my lip as nervous anxiety bubbled in my chest. "I'm blowing it out of proportion, aren't I?"

"A little bit," She nodded. "It's nothing to stress about, hun."

"Was I stupid for making the cake at all?" I asked, "Is it too much?"

"What?" Cassie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why on earth would it be too much? That wasn't what I meant at all. I just meant that you don't need to get yourself all worked up over something silly like what to wear."

"It's just weird," I groaned, dragging myself away from my closet to sit on the bed next to her. "We've been talking for almost a month now, but it's hard to figure out where we stand when we can't actually see each other in person. I don't want to overstep if maybe I've read the signals wrong."

"Okay, well, first of all, he asked you to make him a cake so even if he only asked you because he knows you're a baker and he wants a really nice birthday cake then you're still not overstepping," She reminded me. "And second of all, I've seen your conversations. He likes you. He'll be just as excited to see you again as you are to see him."

"Do you think so? I mean, I think we're flirting, but I'm notoriously bad at reading the signs and he's fucking Superman for god's sake, why would he want to flirt with me?"

"Because you, my darling sister, are hot," Cassie smirked. "And you're funny and sweet and thoughtful. You're a total catch and even if he is Superman, he's the lucky one in this equation."

I couldn't help, but smile at her kind words, knowing she meant every one of them.

"Thanks Cass," I said softly, feeling some of the nerves in my stomach dissipate slightly. "I just don't want to get ahead of myself. It's fun talking to him, but it's hard when you can't actually meet face to face."

"Well, from all the giggling that comes out of this room when you're talking to him on the phone, I would say that you have nothing to worry about," She assured me before standing from my bed and heading to my closet. "Now, let's find you something to wear."

By the time Cassie was done styling me I was wearing a long black sleeve shirt under short style overalls. It was a good mix of warm, but cool for a sunny spring day.

"Are you sure I don't look like I'm dressed up as a farm girl?"

Cassie giggled at my question, but shook her head.

"No, you look adorable," She insisted. "And it shows off your legs. You have great legs."

I looked down at them in the mirror and thought they looked pretty average, but I took her word for it, thanked her and headed back downstairs to meet my mum.

"I thought you said 'quickly'," She scoffed as I walked back into the room. "You've been gone almost half an hour."

"That is quick when you're getting ready to see the man you've fallen in love with."

I spun around to scowl at my dad who'd appeared by the kitchen door.

"I'm not in love with him," I argued. "We're just friends."

"Quite the extravagant cake to make for a friend," He teased. "You've never made me anything like this."

"I make things for you all the time," I mumbled, letting my hair fall in front of my face to hide my red cheeks. "Just because I'm living at home again doesn't mean you need to tease me like I'm fifteen."

"You just make it too easy, Sweetheart," He grinned. "But I'm sure your boyfriend will love his cake."

I groaned as my mom smiled and scolded her husband on my behalf.

"Alright, we should get going," She told me. "If we leave it much longer we'll catch them in the middle of their supper."

She was being dramatic, it hadn't taken me that long to get changed, but I nodded and slipped my phone into my back pocket before gently lifting the cake off the counter.

****

The walk over was slow going. It should have only taken maybe ten minutes to get to the Cavill's house, but I was so terrified of dropping the cake that it took almost twice as long. Focusing on that was a good distraction though and by the time I was placing the cake stand on their doormat I felt less nervous and more excited for him to see it.

Once it was safely placed on the ground, I knocked loudly on the door and scurried back to where my mom was waiting on the other side of the porch, six feet away.

"I hope he's the one who answers the door," I thought, voicing it out loud to my mother. "Or someone might end up very confused."

She laughed quietly beside me as the door swung open and Henry was standing there only a few feet away. They say that you tend to build things up in your mind when you go without it for a while so there was part of me that had thought there was no way Henry was as handsome in person as I remembered. But he was.

My breath caught in my throat for a minute as he glanced down at the cake and then up at me with an ear to ear grin on his face.

"Happy birthday!"

"Wow, thank you so much," He chuckled. "I didn't think you'd actually make me a cake."

I dropped my jaw in an exaggerated way before rolling my eyes.

"You absolutely did," I insisted. "I was worried if we didn't get it here soon you'd come looking for it. You've mentioned it almost every day."

"Alright, I did," Henry admitted with a smirk as he picked up the cake. "But, wow, this is next level. It's amazing!"

All the commotion had drawn a crowd to the door that came into view as Henry moved the cake to a little table on the porch and set it down.

"Sue! Hello!" A woman called as she made her way outside. She was around my mother's age so I assumed she was Henry's mum. "How lovely to see you!"

"Oh, it's lovely to see you too!" My mum smiled. "Brooke said she could use some help carrying this cake over so I jumped at the chance. Isn't it awful being cooped up at home all the time?"

"Gosh, it's just terrible."

"Mum," Henry called, interrupting the little reunion as he lifted up the dome I'd used to protect the cake. "Look how amazing this is."

There was a chorus of 'wows', impressed gasps and various other praise and I felt my cheeks go red from the attention.

"Did you make this all from scratch?" Henry asked as a curly mass of brown hair flew through the door and over to the table. "Whoa, careful Alfie, don't knock it down."

Henry grabbed the boy, who looked to be about eight, gently by the shoulders to stop him from getting too close as he stared at it wide-eyed.

"That's so cool," He whispered in awe. "It looks like Superman!"

"It looks like Uncle Henry!" Another, slightly younger, boy shouted as he scurried over as well. "When Uncle Henry's in the movies!"

"I'm glad you think so! I tried my best to make it look like him," I smiled, drawing their attention away from the cake and towards me. "And yes, I did make it all from scratch. But I did wear a mask and gloves the whole time and I thoroughly sanitized the kitchen before I started so it's completely germ free. Not that I have any germs to pass on, I promise."

"What a strange time we're living in that you have to provide such a disclaimer when giving your friend a cake."

That observation came from an amused woman standing in the doorway and, as if he read my mind, Henry spoke up.

"Sorry, I should do some introductions," He realized. "Brooke, this is my mother and Father. My brother, Simon, and his wife, Louise, and their three kids, Alfie, George, and Amelia. Everyone, this is Brooke and her mother."

My mother spoke up before I did, informing him that she'd met them all before at one time or another, but once she was done I offered an awkward wave.

"Hello, everyone! It's nice to meet you all."

"I can't believe that after my brother almost broke your ankle, you made him a birthday cake," Simon smirked as he balanced his daughter on his hip. "It's not poisoned, is it?”

I giggled as Henry rolled his eyes.

"It was just as much my fault as his," I insisted. "It's just unfortunate for me that he's as solid as a brick wall."

"Sometimes those muscles do more harm than good," His mum smiled fondly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Now, who wants cake? You'll stay for some, won't you?"

My mother leapt in before I could answer.

"Oh, that would be wonderful!”

There was a flurry of commotion as Marianne rushed off to get plates and the kids immediately started arguing over which piece of cake they wanted. I heard Henry softly clear his throat and, when he caught my eye, he nodded his head to the side. He didn't wait for me before sneaking off quietly down the stairs and I followed, but not before catching the knowing look my mother was throwing at me.

"Be careful," She warned quietly. "We're still in a pandemic and you're still vulnerable."

"I know," I assured her, biting back the urge to remind her that I wasn't a child and could look after myself. "I won't be long."

I rushed off after Henry before she could give me anymore advice or we caught anymore attention.

****

I found Henry just around the side of the house standing in quite a spectacular garden.

"Happy Birthday," I repeated with a smile, alerting him to my presence as I walked closer until I was the appropriate distance away. "Are you having a nice day?"

"I am, thank you," Henry returned my smile. "It's been as relaxing as can be expected in a house full of children, but it's been nice seeing them all try to make my day special. Until you came and upstaged everyone."

He playfully shook his head at me and I felt the nervousness fade away. He may be drop dead gorgeous, but he was the same Henry I'd been messaging.

"I didn't mean to," I insisted with a laugh. "You wouldn't shut up about the cake so I had to make it something special!"

Henry chuckled at that.

"Seriously though, I really appreciate it. Thank you very much," He grinned at me, making my cheeks heat up at his praise. "It must have taken you hours."

"It took all morning," I nodded with a smile, not admitting that I got up at just after six am to make sure I had enough time. "But it was really enjoyable actually. I haven't felt much motivation to bake fun things so it was nice having an excuse to get back into it."

"Oh, well then you're welcome."

His words were said with a smirk that made me roll my eyes, shaking my head, but just as I was about to tell him to be quiet a massive black and white ball of fur came bounding around the corner from the back of the house.

"Oh my gosh," I gasped. "Is this Cow?!"

Henry barked a laugh at that as the big dog ran around both of us in circles, his tail wagging at top speed.

"It's Kal," Henry corrected. "But yes, this is my dog. He's probably incredibly thrilled that he's getting to meet a new person for the first time in months."

I smiled and squatted down to wrap my arms around his neck.

"Awe, well, I know we're supposed to keep our distance from people's pets now too, but how could I resist you?" I cooed to the dog who danced in place while licking my face. "My goodness, you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen!"

"He is pretty great," Henry agreed, a hint of pride in his voice, but after a few more moments of me fussing over his companion he spoke again. "You know, I've always liked how Kal stole the attention away from me, but I think this might be the first time it's actually making me a tad bit jealous."

My head snapped up in his direction, worrying for just a moment that I'd actually upset him, but the soft smile on his face put me at ease. Nevertheless, I stood up, much to Kal's dismay.

"Wow, Henry, that's pretty self-centered," I teased. "I know it's your birthday, but that doesn't mean the attention needs to be on you every minute of the day."

"It doesn't? I was under the impression that was exactly what it meant."

"Nope," I shook my head. "It just means that you're one step closer to those senior discounts."

"Oh, please," Henry rolled his eyes. "Thirty-seven is really not that old."

"I was debating getting you a walking stick to go with the cake," I teased. "You know, because you might need it any day now."

Henry glared at me for a moment, but it quickly melted into a laugh.

"If I'm days away from needing a walking stick with these muscles," He paused briefly to flex his biceps which, despite making my breath catch in my throat at their size, earned an amused shake of my head. "You must already be a cripple with those weak ankles of yours."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you just did that," I laughed. "Trying to impress me again, are you?"

"I don't have to try," Henry smirked. "I can tell you're impressed."

I opened my mouth to protest, but resigned myself to a simple shrug as I crossed my arms.

"Well, yeah, okay, of course I'm impressed," I admitted with a smile. "You're sculpted like a Greek god."

"It really is mostly for practical reasons,"  He informed me, his usual humble side returning as he scratched Kal's head. "You can't wave swords around for hours without hurting yourself if you're not strong."

I cocked my head to the side suspiciously.

"I don't remember Superman using a sword."

"He didn't, but there was a lot of dangerous stunt work and did you see the suit they made me squeeze into? I had to be in top shape or it wouldn't have fit."

"Alright, that's fair," I nodded before a realization hit me. "Oh my gosh, do you even eat cake?"

Henry stared at me blankly for a moment before laughing.

"On my birthday? Of course I do!" He nodded. "I do try to keep a pretty healthy diet, but on holidays or special occasions I don't restrict myself too much."

"Thank goodness," I breathed a sigh of relief. "For a moment there I was panicking that I should have made you some kind of healthy protein cake creation instead."

He pulled a face at that suggestion, making me giggle at his over the top look of horror.

"If you're going to do cake, you have to do it right!"

"I'm glad you think so," I smiled. "Because there is a lot of sugar in that icing. It's probably about a thousand calories a slice."

I was being a bit dramatic, but it earned a full body laugh from Henry and I felt a warming in my chest at the sight. He was such a lovely person to be around. Lovely might seem like a boring description, but it fit him perfectly. He was genuine, funny, easy to tease and quick to tease back. He was constantly impressing me with how down to earth he was and he had a very calming presence that made all my anxiety melt away. He made me feel lighter.

He asked a few questions about how often I made such fancy cakes, about the different techniques involved and how I'd come up with the idea and for the first time in a few months it actually felt good to talk about my baking. I'd been really crushed by my failed attempt at opening a bakery. Sure, it wasn't really a sign of my skill or business management abilities, but opening a bakery just for it to be permanently closed a few months later was pretty defeating. It had left a bad taste in mouth in regards to baking anything that wasn't practical food.

We got lost in our conversation only pausing when a deep 'boof' came from the dog that had been circling us. He was staring in the direction of the gate so we followed his gaze and saw Henry's tiny little niece toddling towards us. A grin burst onto Henry's face, making my heart melt just a little bit.

"Hi, sweetheart," He cooed as she came over before lifting her arms to be picked up. Henry did so happily, resting her on his hip. "Did you enjoy the cake? It sure looks like you did!"

I laughed as he wiped some of the icing off of her cheek. It was all over her face as she smiled up at him and nodded. She shyly told him that it was yummy, eyeing me suspiciously the whole time.

"This is my friend, Brooke," Henry told her. "She made that cake for me. Can you say thank you?"

"Thank you..."

She still seemed wary, but I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

"You're very welcome!" I told her. "Now, I can't remember what your Uncle Henry said your name was, can you remind me?"

"Amelia."

"It's lovely to meet you, Amelia!"

As I spoke, her mother appeared at the gate, relaxing in obvious relief when she saw Amelia in Henry's arms. She shouted over asking if we were okay with her, but Henry waved her off before turning his attention back to the child.

"Can you tell Brooke how old you are?"

She held up two chubby little fingers and I held back an 'awwe' at the sight.

"Two? Wow. Uncle Henry must seem pretty old to you then," I teased him earning a roll of his eyes when she wasn't looking. "He's thirty-seven!"

"Well, she is almost three," Henry clarified. "So she's almost as old as me really."

"No!" Amelia protested, disgust written all over her face. "I'm little!"

"You're little?" Henry gasped in mock shock. "Weren't you just telling me the other day that you're a big girl now?"

She shook her head insistently and I laughed at the pair of them.

"Don't worry, Amelia. He keeps trying to say that I'm as old as him too and I'm six whole years younger."

She giggled at that and looked up at Henry before scrunching her nose.

"You're old."

"Thanks for that," Henry laughed, shaking his head in my direction. "I'm not old, Amelia. Don't listen to her."

He tickled her tummy making her squirm and giggle in his arms. It would have been almost impossible not to laugh along with her, but once she got herself under control her face got very serious as she leaned in to whisper something in her uncle's ear.

"Oh, I'm not sure that will be possible," Henry chuckled earning a very over the top, but heart-wrenching pout from his niece. "Your birthday is a long way off, we might not all be here together by then."

From what he said, I had a rough idea of her request, but I gave Henry a questioning look, prompting him to elaborate.

"She wants to know if you would make her a birthday cake on her birthday."

"Oh, honey, I would love to make you a cake if you're still here on your birthday," I smiled. "When is it?"

She mumbled something incoherent as she rested her head on Henry's shoulder so I turned to him again for clarification.

"July twenty-ninth."

"My birthday is on August fourth," I told her. "That's pretty close together, hey? Maybe I can make a giant cake for both of us!"

Her eyes lit up at that suggestion.

"A fairy princess one?"

"Is that what you would like?" I asked as she nodded frantically. "Then it's a deal. If we're still here on you birthday, I’ll make us a giant fairy princess cake to share."

She grinned at that information and wiggled to be put down before running off through the gate under Henry's watchful eye, presumably to tell her parents the exciting news.

"What a sweetheart," I smiled. "She's adorable."

"She is and she knows it," Henry chuckled. "But she's quite quiet and calm so she tends to get overshadowed by her brothers who have an endless amount of energy. It's been hard for them having to stay home so much so they end up with most of the attention because if they're left to their own devices someone usually gets hurt."

"It must be hard not being able to go to the park and burn off all that energy."

"Exactly," Henry nodded. "But luckily the garden is fairly big so there's a lot of football and playing chase with Kal, anything that lets them blow off some steam, but Amelia doesn't like those things so I've been trying to spend some time with her too. She loves reading so we've been doing a lot of that while the boys wreck havoc."

"That's very sweet," I smiled as my heart fluttered at the thought of the giant, muscled man in front of me sitting with his tiny niece curled up in his lap as he read to her. "She must love that."

"She does and really, I do too," Henry admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I love running around with the boys, but it's nice to have those quiet moments too. It's one positive thing that's come out of this whole mess, getting to really bond with them all."

"I've felt the same with my niece," I nodded. "She's probably about the same age as Alfie and I always made an effort to see her as much as possible, but it's nice to have an excuse to be around all the time and really get to know her little personality."

"It is and honestly, I can't wait to have a family of my own," He confessed with a sheepish smile. "So it's nice to get some practice in."

A smirk slid onto my face.

"Well, after seeing you with Amelia, I'm sure you'll be a super dad."

Henry shook his head at me and sighed dramatically, but despite his incredible acting skills, he couldn't help, but laugh.

"You're hilarious," He told me, his words dripping with sarcasm as I grinned proudly at my joke. "Always have a pun ready to go, don't you?"

"They just come to me," I giggled. "It's a gift."

"If you weren't such a good baker, I'd suggest you do stand up comedy."

His words were once again laced with sarcasm, but I just smirked.

"Maybe I'll do both," I shrugged. "Maybe that was part of my downfall, there wasn't enough comedy to go along with the pastries. I should have set up an open mic."

"Ah, yes, because it's well-known that the British just love the awkwardness of amateur comedians."

"True, that might be a bit too cringey," I admitted with a wrinkle of my nose. "But I could have at least come up with some clever, play-on-word names for everything. What a missed opportunity."

"It was, especially for someone as clearly multi-talented as you."

I couldn't help, but laugh at his flat delivery, but quickly forced it into a glare.

"Alright, that's enough sarcasm out of you," I playfully scolded him. "We both know that I'm at least funnier than you and really, that's all that counts."

"I think we both actually know that it's the other way around," Henry raised an eyebrow. "Or was that another one of your jokes?"

I shook my head at his teasing, but before I could argue, Henry's brother shouted over to us.

"Henry! Brooke! If you want some cake, come get it now before George eats it all!"

A tiny voice shouted his protests at being blamed as Henry and I laughed.

"Well, it sounds like we should get back before I don't even get to try my own cake," Henry chuckled. "But thank you, Brooke. All jokes aside, I really appreciate that you put so much effort in to making me that cake."

"Don't worry about it," I assured him, feeling my stomach flutter at the genuine kindness in his eyes. "Just because we're all in lockdown, doesn't mean that you can't have a nice day. I'm glad I got to help make that happen."

Henry smiled and nodded understandingly before walking past me towards the gate. We'd stayed pretty much six feet apart the whole time we'd been talking, but he broke the rule as he walked by, brushing his hand just briefly against mine. It was subtle and fleeting, but his pinky wrapped around mine and squeezed gently.

He didn't even stop walking so as fast as it happened, it was over. Perhaps I was just feeling rather touch starved from not being near anyone but my family since our last meeting, but the brief connection left me buzzing. I'd always assumed the novels and movies that describe the electric sensation when two people touch were being dramatic, but it suddenly seemed very real. My skin felt like it was on fire and it was suddenly like my mind had gone completely blank of anything that wasn't how soft his skin felt.

Kal broke me out of my trance with a lick to my hand and I took a deep breath to get myself back down to earth. I thought to myself how embarrassing it would have been for Henry to see what an effect his simple action had on me, but when I looked up and saw him standing by the gate with a smirk on his face I was pretty sure that he was very much aware.

[scottfuckingreed]

Truth or Dare - Part Five

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VERY REQUESTED (i’m sorry for the long ass wait)

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Warnings!: Includes swearing and detailed sexual images (female masturbation)

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Oh wow okay. His? I hate the fact that I heard ‘back to mine’ and internally started worrying about the fact that I haven’t shaved, I’m not mentally prepared at all, and I’m an absolute sucker for anything this boy does. It must be hypnotics or something. But I haven’t shaved. I’m not like a monster - I’m not that hairy - but I ain’t smooth. But he is. His words are too smooth. He must do this often. I mean, look at him. Imagine a guy looking like THAT and being unsmooth. It just wouldn’t happen. We get to his, and it’s this nicely done up house which is cosy and cute. It’s somehow exactly what I imagined. Not that I’ve imagined it too often... The fingers on my right hand rub against the top of a unit. They stop at a picture frame, which I pick up. “Is this you and your mum?” I ask, totally in awe at the adorable photo. Monty’s probably 13/14 in it. Both of their faces are smushed together with the biggest grins on their faces. “So cute,” I smirk towards him. I wish I could say I see a slight bit of awkwardness in his face, but he plays it off so cool. “I’ll get you a drink, you can make your way up to my room if you want,” he smiles. 1. That’s so cute. 2. Okayyyyyy. Photo frames line up the side of the stairs. They’re all so happy, and Monty continues to be so fucking cute as a child! There’s no shock there either I guess.

No part of me feels nosey, which it should, as I look around Monty’s room. It’s pretty basic. Baseball shit on the wall, trophy’s placed proudly on shelves. It’s quite tidy though. There may be a few clothes on the floor and some shit shattered, but it’s honestly probably tidier than my room. He hands me a glass, which is very clear. His eyes lock on me as I sniff the contents of the glass. He lets out a laugh. “It’s just water.” After confirming that for me, I take a sip. “Yours is water too?” I ask. I’ve never seen this guy drink anything other than alcohol. “I have practise later so.” And then there’s silence. Fuuuuuuuuck.

It quickly becomes less awkward. Me and Monty hardly talked 2 days ago, and now we’re laughing around in his room. It doesn’t just happen. But it did. “I didn’t know you were this good,” I say, not in a rude way, as I admire one of the trophy’s. “I’m no ‘Bryce Walker’, but I’m alright I guess,” humble? This is NOT the Monty I know. “Didn’t you used to be a cheerleader?” Oh god. Bring up the old memories why don’t you. I let out a small laugh. “I’m surprised you would remember such an insignificant thing like that, but yeah I guess. I was shit at it though.” “Well the main part of being a cheerleader is to be sexy and distract the players right?” A smile spreads across my face, shaking my head slowly at the words flowing out of his mouth. “It is, and I have to say I’m definitely distracted,” as he spoke his words, he started making his way towards me. He so irresistible. Ffs. He just there, right in front of me, smiling because HE KNOWS he has me right where he wants me. “You’re such a flirt Cruz,” I go to push his head softly and playfully, but my hand just stays placed on his cheek. “You’re so distracting Y/L/N.” Move Y/N. Say something! But I can’t say something. I can’t say anything. The Monty I knew- thought I knew- is not the guy sat in front of me. Where’s the guy who pushed Tyler Down into the lockers on multiple occasions. He’s always been the bad boy you’re not meant to like, but they’re always the attractive ones so you do anyway. This is too tempting. My words are stuck in my throat, not that I even know what to say. He knows what he’s doing. And it’s working! He moves his head slowly closer to mine, and I just wanted to pull it closer faster. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine. Hovering lips almost touch then... my phone rings. His body throws itself back on his bed. Defeated. “Shit, it’s my mum.” I let out in a whisper. Every inch of my being wants to just ignore it, but my mum with never forgive me. EVER! “Hey mum!” I answer as enthusiastically as I can. She mumbles on about how she’s cooking tea before she’s goes out. And my little sister will need me. Blah blah blah. Way to kill a mood mum. “I have to go,” I break to him slowly. “I figured, I guess we’ll just have to continue another time,” I raise my eyebrows. Grabbing my bag, I go to show myself out. Something about leaving makes words I couldn’t find earlier come spiralling out. Words I didn’t intend on saying. “You can call me though, if you’d like,” I shrug. Confidence? Who is she? I don’t recognise me.

A strong, slightly chilly breeze guides me home. It’s nice to actually clear my head. To think so much has happened over the past few days, ever since that stupid party and an even sillier game. I’d like to believe that it’s for the best that my mum rang me when she did. Although I doubt it, maybe I’d regret flirting with Monty more. Who am I kidding, I’m pissed. But at least the sky is clear, even if my head isn’t. It’s muddled and tangled and, well, fucked. The best thing for me to do is push Monty, and all the other boys, out. I don’t care; It’s just a little game: As fun as it is, it’s a no.

“Where were you after school?” My 7 year old sister Y/S/N asks. I know all children are annoying, but she actually not too bad. Sure she smells and screams and just pretends to be angelic for mum, but I’ve seen worse. Oh and she’s nosey. Sometimes I think mum puts her up to this. “I was at a friend’s, why?” I smile. Purely out of happiness, not because I was hanging out with Monty. We sit at the dining table. Y/S/N has not moved from her seat since I’ve got home, so neither have I. Shes rather artistic. We draw and colour and doodle. It’s actually extremely relaxing. “Mummy thinks you have a boyfriend,” her tone is ‘know-it-all’ if that makes sense. At least I’m not lying. “Well I’ll tell mummy that I don’t. I wish!” I gasp, making her giggle. “Yeah, you’re lonely!” “Hey! I shout jokingly. “You just continue doing your colouring missy,” i reach my hands towards her, tickling her all over her body until she’s red in the face.

Do you ever just close your eyes and make up scenarios in your head? It’s sounds crazy I know! But I just lay down and visualize things that are just unrealistic sometimes. I did say that I was going to push Monty out, but I meant out of my life. Thinking about him is nothing. He won’t even know. The clock reads 11:57, and my head remains on hyperspeed. I can’t get the thoughts of Monty out. Images of him smirking. The sound of him being smug. The feeling of him underneath me as I ground on him. I squeeze my eyes shut, already regretting the movement of my hand. I could search for some willpower. If I did, I’m sure I’d find some. But I have no willpower to search for willpower right now. My hand reaches my vagina, shooting immediate pleasure through my body. I hold it still for a second, wondering if this will push me too far towards Monty. I don’t want anything, like this, to do with Monty. But he’s so fucking hot.

I let my fingers move. Flashes of Monty shoot through my head. It weird how you can imagine things that you haven’t seen happen. Like it’s weird how, laid here right now, I have the ability to imagine Montgomery in any way I’d like. As I rub soft circles against my clit, I visualise myself laid in sexy lingerie on Monty’s bed. It’s the same blue sheets with white lines all over them. I can feel the mattress beneath me. I can see Monty in nothing but white boxers crawling on top of me. My breath heightens at the thought of feeling his breath against my face once again. I change the rhythm of my fingers, slowly sinking a single digit into my core. A slight moan escapes my mouth. In my head, Monty kisses down between my breasts, his right hand squeezing one as he trails down my body: all the way down to the top of my panties. One finger turns to two. I can’t help but get wetter and wetter at my own vivid imagination. That’s all it is. I’m only imagining Monty’s slightly rough fingertips against my skin as he pulls my things down and throws them across the room. But it feels so good! Our eyes lock, and he’d say something like ‘are you ready baby’. The deepness of his voice would send me to a different dimension. He’d hook his arms around my thighs, pulling me down closer to him. I wiggle to get into a comfier position. The toes at the very end of my body begin to curl quite violently. His head would be buried into my pussy, which makes my top half of my body raise only slightly. My moans are mostly internalised, but the pleasure is all real. I pick up the pace of my fingers as juices begin to flood down my own hand. I should stop, but it feels incredible. Imagine what it would feel like from him? His hands, which remain latched around my thighs, would keep my core close to his tongue lapsing around my clit. I wouldn’t be able to help my right hand pushing him as deep into my vagina as possible, probably catching him a few times with my nails. I begin to focus more on my clit, as I imagine he would too, pulling my fingers out. The circular motion becomes quite vigorous. “Shit,” I whisper to myself as I feel my stomach start to knot. My thighs would attempt to close around his face, but he would pull them open and hold them with quite a bit of pressure. Both his forehead and his arms would bulge with a vein. I roll my eyes back into my head. The knot tightens more and more until I feel the need to release. My scream would be as simple as ‘Monty I’m cumming!’. Right now, I cover my mouth with the inner elbow of my left arm. My eyes squeeze tighter shut. I wanna scream out as I ride out my high. I know for a fact that Monty would lick up all my juices. He’d make a slightly dick comment about how he’s ‘just cleaning up’, but I’d feel him him against me, vibrating an incredible sensation up through my entire body. My arm collapses onto my bed, having that feeling of almost cramping. The racing of my heart follows my heavy breaths.

I’m sure the guilt will take over in the morning.

[izzy-b-hands]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @sunshinerami thank you!!!

Also apologies to all these got long because I’ve been feeling talkative lately.

Are you named after anyone?

My grandfather's middle name and my aunt’s middle name is Lee, and I chose it, so I named myself after them technically. Part of why I wanted Lee in particular as my name-my history with my family is complicated, but I like having the connection nonetheless. Also Lee Pace is a wonderful actor, and liking him and his work was part of what made me consider Lee as my new first name. 

When was the last time you cried?

Sunday night. Had a breakdown about life, the state of things, various other issues, and then just crying because...idk. Sometimes the depression just goes Crying Time! and I am useless to do much other than obey.

Do you have kids?

No, and as of the last year I've become absolutely certain I don't want them. Pregnancy terrifies me, I'm still working to unlearn the abusive shit my mother continues to heap on me, and what sort of world would I be bringing a child into right now? At my core, I don't think I'd be a good parent, so my goal is not to have kids. Let the folks who want them and are capable of raising them do that. If my friends with kids want me to take them for the afternoon, be the babysitter/fun uncle who buys them a toy and ice cream, become the person they can call to pick them up when they do stupid shit as a teen that makes them too scared to call their parents for help (though the parents are gonna find out, I’ll just get them out of the bad situation first), that all I can and will happily do. But I don’t think I could ever have kids of my own. 

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Despite my ASD, sarcasm  and humor in general are something I don’t struggle with too much and use quite a bit. To be honest, it’s definitely in part a defense mechanism along with making jokes about the rough shit in my life. But it works, and sometimes I even make people laugh, which is nice. 

What's the first thing you notice about people?

I had to think about this during work because I hadn’t really considered it, and when I focused I found that the thing I tend to notice first, weirdly enough is gait. I think it’s because I’m used to watching my mum after her major ankle injury, and knowing to help her out more and be extra nice on days she’s limping. It makes me wonder what I noticed about people before this point in time though, because for some reason I just never thought about it lol.

Scary movie or happy ending?

I like both; it varies by day as to which I want. I also think you can have a happy ending to a scary movie, and that a happy ending can be the most horrific thing if it comes at the expense of others, or hurts others. 

Any special talents?

I don’t know if this counts because my psychologist and I figure this has to do with my ASD, but I’m really good at memorizing lyrics. Like, I can have my own little radio station playing all day in my head, and if you ask me to I can sing a song in full with no mistakes, or can write out the full lyrics easy as anything. As to how well I can sing it depends on the song (I can sing soprano if I have to because my high school choir teacher did give me a bit of operatic training since he’d thought I sounded good doing it, but my diaphragm really prefers me to stay in alto or tenor ranges lol) but like...they just stick in my head. I can hate the song, but if I’ve heard it once then It Is In There, and if I want to forget it I have to focus on doing that really hard. Makes me wish I sang better, honestly. Might even be a useful talent then. 

Where were you born?

Somewhere near Oceanside, CA, outside of the Marine Corps base there. Per my mum, we lived on-base, but the base hospital was shit so she insisted on being taken to the nearest city. I think Oceanside is what’s on my birth certificate at least. 

What are your hobbies?

Writing is also my job, but I think it technically also counts as a hobby. Reading and drawing are on the list too, though I’m not great at drawing. I’d like writing lyrics and composing to be a job at some point, but right now they’re still just a hobby too I think. 

Do you have any pets?

My cat, Nisha. She rules over me with an iron paw, and I love her dearly. 

What sports do you play/have you played?

I played volleyball as a kid for a bit, was good at it and liked it (and still do tbh) but got made fun of for being the chubby one on the team, so I quit. Really liked softball and was told I had a good pitching arm, but again got made fun of constantly for not ‘looking athletic’ so never pursued it. I love badminton and tennis, but no one else I know does so I never get a chance to play it. I will destroy a motherfucker in badminton if they let me. 

How tall are you?

Probably more like 5′2 nearing 5′3, but I put 5′3 on my state ID so let’s say that lol.

Favorite subject in school?

I was a Certified Nerd and Academic Freak during school, so I had a bunch rather than just one. Loved English class, of course. Creative Writing I got to do in high school, loved that. Any and all History classes were great, but the year they finally introduced a Native American History class was the best. We got to learn about the local tribes and had folks associated with the tribe come in every now and again, and along with being some of the nicest people I’ve ever met, they were also wonderful to learn from. I wish they’d offered it again each year of school. Languages like French, Spanish, and German were another favorite. Band class was fun until the entire class started making fun of me. Criminal Law I took in high school and my god did I love it. I still even remember the teacher’s name. Mrs. Forde, if you’re out there somehow reading this, you’re wonderful and I’d take that class again in a heartbeat just so I could enjoy it all over again.

Dream job?

Author/screen-writer/actor, either just one or a combo of them. I’d also love to be a musician too, but goodness knows I don’t have the ability to carry that wish. 

Tagging: @maythefirthbewithyou, @a-small-fuck-you, @hobbadehoy, @persipneiwrites, @xmxisxforxmaybe, @the-heebiejeebies, @riotpunch, @my-space-and-all-within, @apineappleheart, @pinatafarmer, @starmoonchildfromthebeamsabove, @trans-karkat, @sherlollydramoine, @plupluru, @rysespieces98 no pressure if y’all ain’t feelin’ it of course!

[morethanithoughtofficialblog]

Chapter 13: I'm sad because I'm depressed and I'm depressed because I'm sad.

In which Sans remembers why he doesn’t talk about his feelings anymore.

*Sans's POV*

"Do you, by any instance, have suicidal thoughts?"

"i... not that often"

"But you have?"

"i would be lying if i say no"

Papyrus asked (Y/N) yesterday God-knows-what and he ended up knowing what a psychiatrist and a psychologist are, and here I am, talking with a psychiatrist. My brother said that it would be better if I had a new treatment started by a professional on the topic and not by a random monster that calls itself a doctor. Considering that in the Underground we only had general doctors, it was difficult to talk about these matters and get the help needed. Therefore, this seemed like a better option.

Papy spent the night (and this morning) looking for the best option to me, considering that discrimination it's still present. And so he went, asking multiple people if they were open to listen a depressing skeleton being depressed (he obviously didn't say it that way... I think). And so he finally found someone willing to help me, and we head off as soon as possible (hell, we didn't even eat... should I say I'm hungry?)

"Do you have a specific plan to commit suicide, Sans?"

"uh... no?"

"YOU DON'T SOUND SO SURE, BROTHER"

"it's just... i haven't thought about it that deeply. i just sometimes think that i want to disappear and that's it. no idea how, no idea when. just disappear.

"I see..."

The old man went over his little notebook and wrote something down. He was bald and had a white beard almost as pale as my skull, and had a sternum and serious look behind his rectangular glasses. He would be intimidating... if he wasn't a psychiatrist willing to help a monster. How bad could this man possibly be?

"Sans, do you sleep well? And I mean at nights"

"no, sir. i haven't been sleeping well since last year. i mean, i can easily fall asleep, but it's difficult to me to stay that way."

"I see, do you nap at day?"

"heh, a lot if you ask my brother"

"Ok..."

I freaked out for a moment, returning to an odd silence only filled by the sound of his pen writing down my weirdness. I became nervous, not knowing what he was going to ask next. But, honestly, I've been kind of unused to these unpredictable events the Surface has to bring. I was used to hearing the same dialogues and to say the same jokes, but know... everything it's fresh and new. It's scary, but quite a reliever.

"Ok Sans, do you by any chance have any specific dreams or nightmares?"

I froze and cough out the water I was drinking in shock. A quick flashback of the "Genocide Run" went all over my mind, the part of my brother dying repeating itself horribly. The empty look of that kid, the Judgement Hall being my new space... the kid giving up and resetting in front of my eyes, not before giving me a vengeful look.

"Sans? It's okay if you don't want to talk about it yet, but I need to know..."

I sighed, knowing that it was for the best. If I want to enjoy the future, I have to get rid of this fucking trauma.

"i... i do have specific dreams, sir. nightmares, actually. i... i don't want to mention them right now"

Papyrus let out a sigh in disappointment and I gave him a weak smile. I know he always wanted to know what's on my mind... but I just couldn't tell him at that moment. He smiled back to me, making me feel less pressured.

"Don't worry, Sans. We'll go step by step, no need to run all over the details. Still, the fact that you've been having constant nightmares of the same topic it's quite alarming, that's why I needed to know"

He then picked a piece of paper and scribbled some things down.

"This is for the drug store..."

He picked another one, not before drawing a small asterisk on the top.

"And this one is for you"

He then gave me the two pieces of paper and I glanced over them with Papyrus, curious about the medicines.

"In order to deal with your depression, Sans, you'll take a pill of Prozac (or fluoxetine) every morning, okay? I'll determine later for how much time"

We nodded, then glanced again at the paper, reading the next medicament.

"For your insomnia, Sans, you'll take a pill Restoril (or temazepam) every night before going to sleep. This is one of the best pills to not only falling asleep but also keeping you that way"

Before I could even nod, I noticed an uneasy look in the doc's face. I raised an... eyebrow, startling him for a second.

"I'm sorry" he stated, then sighed.

"IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG, DOCTOR?"

"Nothing it's just... the fact that Sans is having constant nightmares worries me. Do you also have constant flashbacks of said events?"

I slowly nodded, and his face got worst.

"DOCTOR? IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?"

"No, it's just... it breaks my heart to know that the Underground may not have been a better place than the Surface"

A better place?

"what do you mean, sir?"

"..."

He just sighed and gave me an apologetic smile, trying his best not to break down. I noticed he was on the edge of tears, and I felt panic running all over my body.

"Sans, there's a high chance you have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or for short, PTSD"

"PTSD?"

"Yes, it's kind of a serious condition to deal with. It shows that Sans had a really traumatic event in his life, and it may seem impossible for him to have a normal life with all the fear he gained from that moment. Or am I wrong, Sans?"

I shook my head, and he gave me a sad smile. Just as he said, just as it is. I never thought it would be that serious, though.

"You'll take Zoloft (or sertraline) for that, Sans... but I also recommend you to go to a psychologist. I can directly put you an appointment with a friend of mine if that's what you want. What do you say? He'll be more than open to hearing your case"

Papyrus nodded excitedly, while I was not too sure. I felt like my normal balance would break down if I started to go to therapy... but then I looked to Papyrus again. I don't want him all worried about me, I want him to have a normal life. And for that, I also need to form a normal life myself.

"sure, may we have the address?"

"Sure, I'll give you an e-mail with it"

We gave the doctor a quick goodbye and a thank you, then head off to our home. I insisted to Papyrus that we could eat something first and relax, then go to the drug store. He groaned slightly and muttered a "lazybones" but took my offer.

When we arrived, though...

"Hello, my children! Where were you?"

Oh fuck.

I glanced over the living room and saw our small group of friends gathered cozily, including an almost smashed (Y/N), an annoying flower screaming, a suspiciously staring father, and more!

...I gulped, knowing I could never say the truth. (Y/N) is a new person in my life, the flower is a bitch, my father is another bitch, Undyne doesn't take anything seriously, Alphys takes everything seriously, Frisk is a dirty betrayer, Toriel worries too much, Asgore would go and make everyone check themselves with the therapist, Mettaton would go and check himself with a therapist, Napstablook would feel all sorry, and Arial would be highly disappointed.

...

Saying the truth sounds pretty awful at this point.

"OH, WE WERE AT THE DOCTOR, MOTHER!"

Oh crap

Papyrus seemed to notice my signal of begging help and came to the rescue immediately, never mentioning anything about a psychiatrist.

"SANS, BEING ALL STUPID, GOT SOMETHING STUCK IN HIS CHEST AGAIN!"

Ouch.

"yep. guess i need some spare ribs at this point, huh?"

Everyone groaned and so I successfully got away from the problem. I tried my best to keep my cool, but I easily spaced out a couple of times and ended up startling myself. They were doing rounds in Super Mario Bros., and (Y/N) seemed to be an expert on it, considering she was on World 6.

"Oh c' mon, when are you going to die?!" Flowey annoyingly exclaimed, foreshadowing a bit. I almost smacked him over before I saw Toriel's face, then I lost myself again on the videogame.

(Y/N) continued playing until arriving at the final castle. Surprising, to say the least. Everyone else was getting enthusiastic about her defeat, but it never happened. Instead, (Y/N) went to play all over again, making everyone groan.

"Oh my God, let us play as well!" Undyne roared, giving a death glare to the older human.

"You said you wanted me to prove how good I am..." She innocently answered, putting the controller aside.

"Ok, you've already proven yourself. Now, please, give us a chance this time" Frisk sighed in defeat, feeling vulnerable and probably fooled.

"Ok!" (Y/N) cheerily got up from the couch, then waved at Papyrus and me "Hi guys! Anything serious happened?"

Shit.

"IT'S NOTHING THAT CAN'T BE HANDLED, HUMAN!"

"I'm glad, how do you feel Sans?" She looked at me worried and made me feel like the worst person on Earth.

A huge part of me wanted to say the truth and confess my problems at that moment, but that was me feeling horrible. I always hated lying, but that's what my life has come to. At this point, I can barely feel sorry for lying...

Except on this topic.

I've always been sensitive with this stuff, and that's how Papyrus ended up knowing. It has become something really messed up that I want to let all the people I care about that I'm not okay. I want them to help me feel complete again. To feel safe. To have hope.

"Sans?"

"HUMAN... SANS... IS IT OKAY FOR YOU IF I TELL HER WHAT'S GOING ON? I TOLD HER SOME THINGS YESTERDAY AND SHE WAS REALLY COMPREHENSIBLE. BESIDES, MAYBE SHE CAN HELP US MORE WITH THE SUBJECT!"

I glanced over her, and she gave me a small and recomforting smile. Out of all the people, I never knew she would be one of those who know what's going on.

"If you don't want me to, Sans, I understand. Just know I'm here to support all of you, ok? And don't take that as an associate... but as a friend. I'm more than willing to help you out in any way I can... but that depends on you"

A deep pain went all over my soul, but then I nodded. If she was so understanding as Papyrus said she was when she heard what problem I have... maybe telling her a bit of detail won't hurt.

"we'll tell ya later, ok? now it's a little bit crowded"

"I understand, thanks for trusting me"

"thanks to you, kiddo"

Thanks to you...

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

*Your POV*

It was a while after the small gathering ended, everyone having to go earlier than expected. I already attended my work-hunting business and find a convincing and small company. I sent them an e-mail, and so I'm waiting for them to text me back. But for now, more important things were on my head.

I feel really sorry about Sans's case, and how desperate Papyrus seemed yesterday when he told all about it. I suffer from some things as well, and I know it isn't easy. It's never easy to deal with yourself...

"HUMAN, SANS, SHALL WE DISCUSS NOW OUR LITTLE SECRET?"

Sans chuckled a bit and I nodded, preparing myself from what I was about to hear.

"OK, SO... YOU REMEMBER THE TALK WE HAD YESTERDAY, RIGHT HUMAN?!"

I nodded again, and he smiled and reassured his brother that he was in good hands. I giggled softly, and the short skeleton just scratched the back of his head out in embarrassment.

"I FOLLOWED YOUR ADVICE, AND I TOOK SANS TO THE MOST ACCESSIBLE PSYCHIATRIST I COULD!"

I smiled, glad that Sans accepted any help.

"What did the doctor diagnosed you, Sans?" I asked, hoping he would be the one answering me this time. After all, this is Sans's main problem, not Papyrus's. He tensed up a little but quickly relaxed as he remembered the presence of his brother there. He took enough courage silently, then spoke with that characteristic deep voice of his.

"depression, insomnia, and... well, something called ptsd, which is-"

"PTSD?!" I interrupted abruptly, not believing what my ears just heard. Sans having depression is hard to admit, but PTSD? Oh lord, what has this poor guy endured in his young life?

"uh... yeah, i... eh..."

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

"Nonono, don't think that way, Sans. It's just... a bit surprising, coming for you. I never expected you to have such a problem, but I guess appearance is quite a bi... beach."

"BEACH?"

"Uh, yeah..." Please come with a good excuse, (Y/N) "You know, beaches may be all pretty on the photos, but the dangerous creatures and natural phenomenons they bring show that they are not that perfect. I guess that's the same for Sans. He easily can go on and hide perfectly with jokes and laughs, but that doesn't mean he's that careless nor happy on the inside... sorry for putting you that way, Sans"

"it's okay kid, i think i get it" he jokingly winked at me, noticing what I was going to say at first. I sighed, feeling pretty stupid at this point.

"Anyways... what has the doctor prescribed you, Sans?"

"this thing called 'prozac', another one called 'restoril' and the last one being 'zoloft'..."

Huh, I have all of those at home.

Maybe I can give him some, considering I have a ton of them...

"HUMAN! SANS MAY BE ON TREATMENT AND ALL, BUT I DON'T WANT YOU TO THINK LESS OF HIM! HE'S AN EXCELLENT MONSTER, EVEN IF HE'S WAY TOO LAZY, BUT HE'S A GOOD BROTHER!"

I saw a slight hint of blue hue spread all over Sans's cheekbones, and I assumed it was blush. I smiled softly, knowing that would be the kind of brothership I would want. Instead, I had the goddamn curse to have no brothers or sisters, and here I am. Alone.

"I would never think less of anyone by this reason, Papyrus" Then I came up with a wild idea, but that mind instantly approved. My smile grew bigger, and I continued "Actually, now that you're confessing me something quite touchy... I guess I should do the same. It may help you to feel a bit more comfortable, Sans"

He raised an eyebrow and I returned to my soft and small smile, preparing myself...

Now that I was thinking about it, it was a bad idea. It was a bad idea to show my weak points, to show my problems, and to show how vulnerable I actually am. But that didn't stop me. And it will never do.

"I... besides from dealing with, well, anxiety, I also suffer from depression..." His eyes widened and tensed up, staring at me with the same shock I felt when he mentioned PTSD. I continued "I have insomnia as well, and... a psychiatrist said I probably had PTSD, considering some constant dreams I have..."

"i... how?"

What?

"i mean, how can you have all those things and still want to help others instead of yourself?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Then I sighed with a smile on my face, trying to feel as confident as I could.

"Making others happy is what makes me happy, Sans. And that's what I need the most..."

"To be happy"

[onceafuckup]

Heartbreak

+My brain woke long before the rest of me did. I could hear the muffled voices and quiet chattering as if they were trying their damndest not to disturb me but at the same time wanting to. I couldn’t force my eyes to open or get any of my limbs to move, or maybe it was just that I didn’t want to. What did it matter what I did now, anyway? Blay was gone and it was my fault. If I had just stayed, gone with him to that damn event…Everything felt as though I was covered in cement, including my eyelids. Everything was so fucking heavy. Though the weight on my limbs didn’t feel nearly as significant as the heaviness in my chest. I was fairly certain my heart had been replaced by stone, that was the only explanation for that feeling. It hurt. I never realized emptiness could hurt, but it does. It made every attack I’d been though feel like child’s play. Those moments of sleep, ok drunken unconsciousness, had been the only time it hadn’t hurt. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed long enough, I’d simply fade away along with everything else.  Just hold my breath and let it all go.

“Get up, Qhuinn. I know you’re awake.”

I grunted and rolled to my side as the shitkicker connected with my ribs, but still didn’t open my eyes. More so now because the room took on that topsy turvy spinning sensation that reminded me that a bottle or two of Herra isn’t always the best idea. Though the numbness it provided was welcome. So fucking welcome. There was another kick from above and a grunt from me, then a softer voice spoke, “Give him a minute, won’t you Tohr? It might be a few decades since you lost Wellsie, but surely you remember the pain. Why don’t you all just leave and let us handle this?” There was grumbling, several voices of dissent spoke up, which surprised me as I hadn’t realized there were so many in the damn room to begin with. Finally Wrath ordered everyone but the females to leave and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Beth was like a freaking dog with a bone when she had her mind set on something and instinct told me I was that something. The door closed and wisps of fabric sounded in the room before brushing over my outstretched arm as one by one, the females took a seat on the floor around me. Hands brushed over my forehead and down my back, “Ok, Qhuinn, the guys are gone. We brought you some food, just soup and sandwiches that Fritz made for you. There’s some water and a few soft drinks as well. Sorry, but the Herra’s on hold until we talk. Layla’s on her way, she wants to be there when you tell the kids.” I let out a low noise and rolled to my side, bringing my arms over my head. Maybe if I ignored them… “We’re not going anywhere Q, so get that thought out of your head.” Fuck. Do not flip off the Queen…do not tell off the queen. If it wasn’t for the fuckton of respect I had for Beth, I would have done those things. Not even fear of Wrath ripping my balls off for it would have stopped me. It was ONLY because she saved my damn life when I was barely past my transition after I stood up for JM. Since that moment, I’d lay down my life for her…even when I never did think it was worth too much. I knew it was her hand on my forehead brushing my hair back. It wasn’t the weight of the ring on her hand, it was just her presence. A sob snuck out before I could choke it down and I heard a few of the other females take a stuttered inhale, as if they too were trying to hold it together. My chest heaved with each breath as Beth continued that soft, motherly touch. “Wrath has taken care of notifying Blay’s parents, they are on their way back from their vacation so they can be here for the ceremony. I am sure you do not wish to discuss it now, but you don’t want to wait too long, Blay deserves….” I shook my head, my words coming out on choked breaths+ Blay …should be me…can’t…I can’t…It hurts.

+The air in the room felt like it was being sucked out. The females started crowding me as I rolled up into a sitting position, my head down and damn near in my lap. I wanted to shrink myself to nothing, to disappear. Mary placed her hand on my shoulder, “We’ll take care of whatever you need, Qhuinn. You’re not alone, Lyric and Rhampage need you to hold it together though.” Every mention of the kids sent images through my head of Blay and how he cared for them over the years. How he was the stable one to help with homework since I was too fucking stupid, the one to discipline them when I was too much of a pushover with them, the one who made sure the doggen was happy so the kids were happy..what the fuck did I do? Yeah, I was there, trying to give them what I never had, but Blay was the rock in our family’s foundation. He kept me from losing my shit over Layla and Xcor, kept me from losing them completely. Another sob racked my entire body so hard my back popped under the pressure. Blay deserved better and my kids sure as fuck deserved better. Once a fuck up, always a fuck up. Bella spoke up next, telling me that Zsadist and Rhage were going to the scene at sundown to see if they could determine what happened, that they were doing everything they could to make things easier. I shook my head, actually my whole body, in argument. I rolled and tried to push to my feet. Stumbling once I did, both because of the room spinning and the females around me. They all stared at me like I had three heads as I weaved my way through Wrath’s office. I couldn’t breath. Couldn’t think. It hurt but I still tried to use my useless damn voice+ No…I should. I gotta…

+I tripped and then focused on the door, moving as fast as my booze soaked body would carry me. I clutched at the handle, once, twice, three times before my fingers finally curled around it. “Qhuinn, where are you going?” I shook my head as the door opened, my voice only moderately steadier+ Beth..gotta. I need to see.

+They called behind me to try to get me to stop, but nothing on this earth would manage that. I started down the stairs and saw the wall of Brothers standing there. All had their attention trained on me, likely because they heard the females yelling behind me. Vishous raised a brow, staring at me with those bright ass eyes of his, “Going somewhere?” It was a question but the words were laced in a threat. A threat I didn’t give a flying fuck about either. I tried to demat, but my emotions were too all over the place. I tried to calm myself, but it wasn’t going to work. Instead, I continued down the stairs like a fucking train going off the rails. The Brothers squared off, blocking the end of the grand staircase. I thought of Blay. My chest clenched, my fangs extended, my breath snarled. I saw fists being clenched. This was going to be ugly and I was fucking ready for it.+ I have nothing to lose, move or be ready to take my ass down.

+Vishous laughed, it wasn’t a pleasant sound. It told me he was ready for the fight. The shutters rose for the night. Everything stopped. That was what I had been waiting for. My feet hit the steps harder on my descent. It was like hitting a fucking wall of cement, but I didn’t let that stop me. Fists and elbows flew, though not as many as I expected. In fact, it was only two Brothers fighting me, Vishous and Tohr. Against one, I might have stood a chance, but between the two of them, I was getting my ass handed to me quite soundly. Not that it stopped me though. I threw fist after fist until I had nothing left. They both wrapped their arms around me, supporting me when my body gave out. I didn’t even notice the wetness on my face or that I was sobbing deep ragged sobs until I was struggling to draw a breath.  They didn’t let me go though. They also didn’t say anything. No meaningless words or platitudes. They didn’t feed me some bullshit about it all being okay or how I’d get through it. It was like they knew…fuck, they probably did. I don’t know how long we stood there before I finally managed to compose myself. Before I felt like my legs wouldn’t give out beneath me. My face hurt like a bitch and I knew I was sporting some wicked bruises, but I felt something other than the utter emptiness, even if it was just pain. After a few more silent moments, V slapped my shoulder, hard, and Tohr stayed close, his voice only loud enough for the three of us, “It sucks. It hurts more than people will know. You do what you need to but be smart about it. Don’t do to him what I nearly did to Wellsie.” That helped but it didn’t. He still managed a happy ever after, and V watched Jane die, but his damn mother brought her back. I couldn’t even bargain with the SV because the bitch disappeared and she wouldn’t give two shits about me. I wasn’t even sure Lass had the power to do anything, if he’d even be willing. Would he be…V was shaking his head, “No, it’s not a possibility, Qhuinn, for that I am sorry.” I slumped, I couldn’t even get pissed again because I was so drained and honestly I expected it. I nodded slowly and shrugged off the males.+ Can I go now? I need to see…I have to go to where it happened.

+The room tensed again, air so thick a dagger couldn’t cut through it. “Why don’t you let…” I shook my head, teeth clenching+ I need this. Please.

+That final word shaking as I forced it out. Wrath stepped forward and even though he was blinder than shit, I felt like he was staring into my soul as he stood in front of me. I swore the room held their collective breaths as we waited for him to speak. Not that I would listen if he denied me this. All I wanted was a chance to do the right thing. My fingers twitched against my thighs and that pit dropped heavily in my stomach. I really didn’t want to have to fight the King, but I would. The clock echoed, ticking loudly in the grand foyer. Footsteps came down the staircase, soft and light. Wrath lifted his head. A silent conversation took place and then Wrath nodded slowly. “I expect you back here in…let’s say four hours. That should give you plenty of time out and still allow you to be back before his parents arrive. If you’re not back, we’re all coming for you and it will not be good for you. Understood?” I nodded and swallowed around the lump in my throat and as I started to walk towards the door, his hand clenched my shoulder, “Don’t be a dumbass, Qhuinn. That’s all I ask.”  I choked out a chuckle+ Being a dumbass is what I do best, my Lord.

+He squeezed my shoulder hard, but no other words were spoken. No one tried to stop me again as I made my way to the front door and out of the manse. I needed to focus, to calm my breath so I started walking down the expansive driveway towards the road. My thoughts were tinged with happy moments but often overshadowed by the last conversation we had had. I winced with each verbal barb that echoed in my brain and I continued to walk. And walk. I passed through the mhis and hit the highway and walked. I couldn’t get my body calm enough yet, no matter how hard I tried. Instead, I continued my path down memory lane with each step I took. I didn’t know how much time had passed before I paused. I could smell him, smell his blood. I blinked and forced myself to move my feet. My legs were heavy, each feeling as though it were encased in concrete or maybe it was quicksand pulling me down. Twisted metal lay before me, a piece of the bumper sheered off, a section of the headlight covering stuck into the ground, the mangled bark of the tree he’d ended up in. Cold wetness seeped through my leathers, and I looked down, shocked to find the ground so close, my knees encased in mud and muck. How that happened, no clue. I slumped forward, my forehead resting against the tree and sifted my fingers through the dirt. I could smell him here. It was so strong. The coppery scent of his blood was heavy, but also that damn cologne he wore, his smokes, the alcohol. It was all there. Along with the smell of burnt rubber and the fuel and oil the car spilled. It surrounded me, enveloped me, suffocated me. A bellow of rage ripped through the night as I unleashed a slew of curses and pent up frustration. I cursed Blay, cursed the SV, cursed Lassiter, and whatever other gods or demons may be listening. My throat was raw, my face was wet, my fingers …I looked down and they were bloody and raw from where they were pounding and scratching into the tree. I hated him for leaving me. Hate him for not taking me with, hated him because we were supposed to have a lifetime ahead of us. I loved him too, like I would never love another, but right now, I hated him. I sat there for who knows how long. Eventually, I stopped cussing him out and turned to talking, apologizing, reminiscing. I knew he wasn’t there, but with his scent surrounding me, I could almost feel him there. That brush of wind against my skin reminding me of his touch when we were in bed. I could almost hear his voice telling to grow the fuck up. To pull my head out of my ass, to keep going.  Fuck, it hurt so bad. Steps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t want anyone intruding but something told me it was a friendly presence. I rubbed my bloody hand over the tree, offering another silent apology to Blay, making promises I could only hope to keep before I finally turned to look over my shoulder. It was no surprise to see JM standing there, his hand held out to me. Zsadist and Rhage were there too, but standing back a respectable distance. I remembered they were there to look at the scene so I was glad they didn’t come closer yet. I didn’t need the accident dissected before me. It was time to go. Time to find my children and tell them what happened. Time to make sure my Hellen got the send off he deserved. I pushed to my feet, accepted the silent hug from my oldest remaining friend and set off to return to the manse.+

[youngster-monster]

rare and sweet as cherry wine

Razel enters the hangar and makes a beeline for Cayde, giving Amanda a high five on his way.

“Hey, buddy! Didn’t know you were in town.” Surprise, the happy kind, colors his tone as they fistbump.

He shrugs a shoulder, attempts standoffish-ness. “I thought it’d be nice to take a brea-”

“Ikora grounded you again, didn’t she.”

He laughs. “Yeah. On an unrelated note, you were right: the Cabal have no sense of fair-play.”

Cayde blinks, confused for a second. Razel can see when it dawns on him by the way his eyes light up, glowing an even brighter blue. “You didn’t-”

“Fight a Gladiator with my bare hands? Hell the fuck yes I did. Bet ya I would, didn’t I?”

He smiles, smug, and Cayde lets out a delighted laugh. “Shit, well done. How was it?”

“Fun, until I had to stop his sword with my bare hand and it burned through my gloves… and a few layers of my skin. Hurt like a bitch.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I know that was your favorite part.” He bumps their shoulder and Razel hums in assent. Yeah, honestly, that was fun. Gladiators are huge and their sword-cleaver thing can cut clean through a guardian. The fact that he managed to catch the not-sharp side of it was impressive enough. That it managed to hurt him anyway… Yeah. Fun times. Challenging. “I get why Ikora grounded you though. Did she give you the speech? Tell me she gave you the speech.”

“The one about ‘being a hazard to myself and others’?”

“A classic.” Cayde pitches his voice higher in an imitation of Ikora’s. “Maybe this time you will learn your lesson about not needlessly endangering yourself for the sake of glory or stupid baits.”

A pause, and they both break into giggles. They’ve heard that speech countless times before. At this point Razel’s pretty sure Ikora only does it to keep face because it sure as hell isn’t working on them. As for the grounding— well. She’s always telling him he should take a break. That must be her way of making sure he gets one.

“Yeaah, I give her three days before she kicks you out of the Tower herself.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

Cayde punches his arm lightly. Or as lightly as it gets when you’re immortal and used to kinda-killing your friends for fun. “Don’t take bets you know you’ll lose. Not with a Hunter, at least.”

He shrugs. “It’s fun. And I don’t mind losing to you.”

It’s true. Usually Cayde gives him dumb dares or make him pay the bill when they go eat ramens. He has a thing against big Bets… Something to do with the previous Hunter Vanguard is all he told him. Razel doesn’t pry.

Cayde pushes away from the beam he’s leaning against, pats Razel on the shoulder. “Lemme settle that one first, then we can make another. What was it we bet again?”

“A night’s worth of drinks, I think.” A better deal for Cayde, who has an impressive alcohol tolerance even for an Exo. Razel is a bit of a lightweight— he doesn’t have the same experience with booze.

“Sounds about right. Hey, Amanda! We’re going drinking tonight, you comin’?”

The shipwright doesn’t look up from the parts she’s inspecting as she yells back, “I’m in!”

Cayde turns back to Razel. “Well, we got some time before she’s done here. Fancy a meal?”

“If you’re paying, sure.”

“Parasite.”

-

They catch up over spicy ramen and a cold beer. Cayde almost stabs Razel’s eye out with his chopsticks while telling him about the missions he ran before joining the Vanguard.

They relocate to a bar. Cayde and Amanda bicker over their drinks — she says he should pay the first round, while Cayde insists he only promised he’d pay Razel’s drinks and she was old enough to buy her own alcohol.

They drink. And drink. And… drink some more. At some point there are shots. That’s when it starts to get blurry. Razel remembers… looking at Cayde. Maybe spacing out while looking at Cayde? Also, dancing with Amanda, and watching the two of them engage in a drinking game that is clearly biased toward the robot side of the competition.

It’s unfair that he can’t really get drunk.

Razel tells him just that as they’re walking out of the bar. Well, he’s not quite walking out on his own two feet. Amanda has his arm over her shoulder and they’re kind of keeping each other up, swaying in time with the tune she’s humming.

“And yet she keeps trying,” Cayde says. He’s slurring a little, his voice box trying and not quite succeeding to keep up despite the liquor in his system. He’s not that steady on his feet either. He’s just better at pretending he’s sober.

“And one day I’ll...” Amanda trips on thin air and almost sends the two of them sprawling. They keep their balance through sheer luck and uncoordinated flailing, Cayde cracking up at the spectacle. “Fuck. One day I’ll beat you.”

“The day you beat me at a drinking game is the day I retire, kiddo.”

“Or y’can- y’can- you… can be a robot too?” Razel leans to the side, dragging her with him, before stumbling a few steps and righting himself. “Wait. How does that work.”

“Dunno. Not like that, though. I think,” Cayde replies.

They walk a little while still before Amanda painstakingly peel herself from Razel’s side. “That’s my stop boys,” she says before turning to Cayde. “You’ll be alright with him?”

Razel stands in place and focuses very hard on his feet so he doesn’t fall while they talk. It’s hard, because the ground keeps moving and his legs aren’t responding like he expects them to. He sways, almost falls, and an arm snakes behind his back, a hand coming to rest on his waist to steady him. He’s used to it, by now, so it doesn’t take him long to find the coordination necessary to throw his own arm around Cayde’s shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s like that every time. We got a system.” Cayde hauls Razel up, the other guardian going limp in his grasp. “I just got to get him to my couch and we’ll be golden.”

They exchange good nights, Razel mumbling his into Cayde’s shoulder, before she leaves. They’re left standing in the middle of the street, Cayde easily bearing his weight against him despite not being exactly sober himself.

“Ready?”

Razel hums something vaguely positive, and they’re off.

The walk to the Vanguard’s chambers isn’t a short one. They could go to the Hunters’ barracks, Cayde has a bed there, but his actual apartment is just… more practical. And the trip goes by quickly anyway, the way it does when you’re too drunk to keep track of time. Razel sings under his breath, an off-key rendition of the songs that were playing in the bar, and leans against Cayde until he’s practically carrying him.

It feels like a blink of an eye before they’re standing in front of his door. Razel hangs off Cayde’s shoulders as he unlocks his door with fumbling hands.

“You’re druuunk,” he sing-songs.

“And you’re trashed.”

He laughs. “Yeah.”

Finally they stumble through the door and it locks on its own behind them. They fall over themselves and against a wall, leaning on each other to stay on their feet. Razel, who pretty much fell on top of Cayde, rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Cayde… bro.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, bro.” Razel leans all his weight against Cayde, sighing softly. Comfy…

“Yeah, I know,” Cayde replies, sounding like a man trying really hard to gather the few brain cells he has left to accomplish the one simple task of getting the two of them to their respective bed.”

Razel frowns and pushes back, just far enough to look Cayde in the eyes. It’s blurry and not quite a still picture, but at least there’s an effort. “No, bro, you don’t get it. I love you. You’re so fucking… important to me and shit. You’re my best friend. I love you so much.”

“You’re my best friend too. Even if you’re crushing me.”

A spark goes through Razel’s mind. He leans forward, so close the blue light of Cayde’s eyes fill his vision. “Let’s make a bet.”

That catches his attention. “Sure. What d’you wanna bet on?”

“Betcha I can’t kiss you right now,” he says, and does exactly that.

It’s clumsy, because he’s drunk and more ‘falling on Cayde’s face’ than kissing him. It’s also awkward, because Cayde doesn’t have lips and Razel isn’t exactly experienced in kissing people, let alone Exos.

But it’s amazing. Probably because it’s Cayde, and Razel has been wanting to do this for forever. Apparently. He didn’t notice, but now he knows. It feels so good, he should have done it months ago.

Cayde is struck speechless when he draws back. He looks at him quizzically. Did he break him? Is that a thing that can happen and no one saw fit to warn him?

Finally, he says, “I don’t think you know what a bet is.”

“Sure I do,” he replies with the absolute certainty of a drunk guy with only a distant knowledge of the subject matter. “I lost.”

The hand still holding on to the back of his shirt flattens against the small of his back, a slight pressure drawing him closer. Another falls on the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Cayde leans in, or maybe he does, and they’re so close they would be sharing air, if Exos breathed.

“And what did I tell you about taking losing bets?”

He kisses him again before he gets the chance to reply.

(They wake up together on Cayde’s small couch, their legs tangled together and Razel’s head slotted under Cayde’s chin. Both with a creak in their neck to go with the hangover.

Worth it. But next time they’ll at least take off their shoes before passing out.)

[indryad]

Confession and Self-Exploration: On the topic of being Emotionally Supportive

I struggle quite violently with being a source of support for the people I am close to. Arguably, the closer I feel to any one person, the harder I find it to be supportive when it matters most. Those of you close to me can probably attest. As I’ve become more and more aware of this over the years, the guilt and anxiety I feel over this deficit becomes even more overwhelming. And likely has only exacerbated the situation entirely.

Why do I find being supportive so hard? Great question. I’ve been asking myself the same thing just about every day for a decade. All I can do is describe the feelings and thoughts I encounter when I’m faced with a situation that I KNOW means I should probably step up:

“What if I make it worse?”

This is always the first thing that pops into my head. I love words. Vocabularly. Word games and puzzles are huge part of my self-care routine and one of my favorite ways to waste time. When it comes to stringing words together and making a conversation...let’s say it’s just not my strong suit. Verbally or in writing. When I’m faced with this particular thought, I often find myself in some sort of odd circling thought process that is very emotional and self-deprecating. When a loved one is in pain, the last thing I want to do is make them feel worse. I usually end up convincing myself that there’s nothing I can say to make it better, and the probability of fucking up is too high, so therefore I should just say nothing. “What do they need from me?” Ah boy. This question is one I have never been to answer. In any situation. Even people who I have known my entire life are often a mystery to me in this. Unless they are just like me when they are in pain. Another reason I feel I might have this tendency towards quiet, is that quiet is honestly what I prefer from others when I’m in a similar situation. This is where “treat others the way you want to be treated” can overtake my approach and have very negative consequences.

I like to think I’m a fairly empathetic person. But being empathetic doesn’t necessarily mean one knows what, exactly, to do about the emotions of others. Or even to understand them. Sometimes it’s hard to even recognize where my own emotions end another’s begin. It all just ends up a huge mess in my head. Again we begin that circling, emotional redundancy that leaves me in a confused and frozen state.

In a world where every person has a litany of various coping mechanisms and emotional requirements, figuring out what to do for each person in crisis can feel like treacherous ground. Myself? I prefer to lick my wounds in private. Sometimes I reach out when I just feel I need to deposit whatever crap is on my mind into another receptacle, but I appreciate, I need, the ability to make the decision to involve others. The last thing I want is people asking how I am and being in my face and sympathetic. It makes me feel pitiful and small. I don’t know why. In fact, I usually wait until I’ve processed many of the thoughts and emotions I’ve had during a bad moment before I ever mention there was such a moment to others. So when I’m trying to figure out what the best approach is to support a friend in pain, I am also struggling with this delusion that i’m plum near abusing them by saying anything in the first place (I don’t want to make them feel pitiful and small). I do not know how to overcome this. I often draw on my own experiences when I think about approaching others, but in this situation of crisis/pain, I typically don’t involve others in my own experiences. So I just don’t ever know what to do. Why do I feel this problem gets worse the closer I am to a person? Easy. The stakes are higher. I am overly concerned and affected by their pain and therefore tend to end up even more conflicted. Each decision carries so much more weight. Or at least that’s what I convince myself in these situations. In the case of people who I am, perhaps, not as close to, I find a greater willingness to take risks in the emotional support department. Another facet of this, is that I feel some sort of pressure to get it right, and get it right the first time when I’m dealing with someone I’m very close to, or have known a long time. Like I should know them well enough by now, and if I get it wrong, I’m disappointing them and basically giving this impression that I haven’t been paying attention to their pain for the last howevermany years. Which is not true. I’m just either stupid or ignorant when it comes to reacting to it. With people I do feel comfortable taking these risks with, they are usually people I don’t know as well or have known for as long. So I feel it is understandable if I do approach a situation the wrong way or say the wrong thing. In this case, it is forgivable.

There’s so much more I can say about this. I really want to explore that feeling of guilt that  follow these selfish thoughts like: “but what if they get mad at ME, what if they don’t forgive ME, how am -I- going to be affected by the fallout.” But I’m tired and this is quite long enough. Maybe next time.

[clarabosswald]

the last 24 hours or so have been strange

i’ve at long last reached the point in my life in which my national service is over (i’d talk more about it but it involves so much shit i don’t even know how to translate that i’m not gonna begin to try to) and since trying to resume my service was The Life Goal for the last few months and now it’s gone my mind suddenly got weirdly clear and i started thinking about a lot of shit and going to mental places i haven’t gone to in ages so like for instance a few days ago i stumbled upon a livejournal dedicated to being against the inheritance cycle book series and everything around it and like when i was a kid/teen i used to be fiercely obsessive about the first couple of books but when the rest of the series came out my interest for it just died and for a long time i didn’t quite understand why that happened and i just didn’t even think about the books for like... years then i accidentally found that livejournal and browsed through it out of curiosity then i realized that the writing just got really bad and that’s why i stopped being interested in it i just didn’t understand that that’s what i felt bc i naturally tend to look at things optimistically and it’s funny bc i was very much aware of critiques of the books back when they were my things but i was in different mental states back then and now (also by now i’ve also seen star wars and read lotr so i understand the plagiarism aspect much better) so this whole pointless story leads to me spending the last couple of hours thinking intensely about writing and how when i was a kid i was an avid writer and how i used to plan whole novels in my head and how what i did like about the inheritance cycle was the concept of the dragon+rider bond (the basics of it, not really how it was written eventually in the books) and how i’d really love to write about a bond like that (which is also similar to the person-daemon bond in hdm) but it just feels very... uninspired or unoriginal?  i feel like i do have original things to say about it but i feel like no one would really find it interesting or original which is a huge mental obstacle to me and also why i don’t actually write - the aspects of what’s considered successful or interesting and how people view your creations, it’s terrifying to me (much more in writing than in drawing, which i’m more comfortable with) it also brings me back to the whole “well now that national service is behind you what are you gonna do with your life” shit that is getting thrown at me the last few days (mainly from my dad) and like... when i was in high school i reached the conclusion that i’m gonna be a teacher and studying education, that was the one thing that i was passionate about enough and that i could probably make a living out of but then i talked about it with my boss at the animal shelter and she said “i don’t think you’re capable of keeping that sort of timetable, having to come to school every morning, you’re terrible at that. you should freelance.” and damn does she know VERY well EXACTLY how bad i am with mornings and keeping times. and i realized that she was 100000% correct. so it brought me back to what i’m really passionate about in life. and basically all i can think of is 1. art and 2. animals. so i could go study art? which i was kind of seriously considering to do (it was like, study art for fun, then go study education as a career). and i even looked up how much tuition costs and requirements and everything. but when i shared it with my mom she repeated something i knew very well but tried not to think about - you don’t make money with art. not really. you can try. some people do. but it’s hard and you can very easily just fail.  which kind of brings me back to my fear of my creations just not being interesting or original enough to anyone. so there’s animals - i could study training. for both dogs and cats. i’ve had a year and a half of experience in this world so far, i don’t intend to quit it anyway, i’m passionate about it. i could make it into a job. it’s certainly very freelance-y. there are a lot of dog trainers, but not many cat experts. obviously my techniques would be exclusively force free. i think i could absolutely make it work, social anxiety and all - it’s much easier for me when there are animals involved. i could even study animal behavior at uni as bonus. having that kind of credentials would make advertising myself even easier. honestly what’s mainly stopping me from proudly taking this route in life is that i feel like my parents that this kind of job is stupid and not a serious career and that i can’t live off it. and right now it’s making me hesitate. they had a similar attitude back when it seemed like i was gonna drop high school. then i finished high school. but this seems bigger. it’s my life, my job, my first job. so naturally i’m anxious as fuck. i can also mention yet again that i have this stupid passion for acting and this nagging need in the back of my head to just try it out. it’s not a case of a childhood dream of being famous. it’s me in my teens getting seriously exposed to tv shows for the first time in my life and suddenly realizing the fascinating subtleties in acting. how it’s a different kind of storytelling. mainly the part that involves portraying subtle emotions is what really fascinates and draws me. and i used to be really good at reading out loud during school, not just saying words but telling a story and conveying emotions. i can’t help but feeling super drawn to it. but it’s acting. it’s The Job that 0.1 percent of the population can even hope to succeed in. especially in a tiny country like this. especially when it’s me, a 21 year old (too old to start, maybe? it’s always about people doing this since they were kids), who can’t sing, with ever-nagging social anxiety, and above all - fat, ugly, repulsed makeup and jewelry - the antichrist of the glam world of acting. so yeah. i’ll keep dreaming about giving it a chance. and it won’t happen. also i guess i’m drawn to translating as well but that’s a world i know almost nothing about and for some reason doesn’t seem to me like a life-sustaining kind of job. like at all. which is why i never bothered even looking into it. although at this point maybe i should honestly. anyway i guess the point of this whole train of thought vent thing is that i’m at a crossroads in my life which is a point i haven’t been in in a very long time and just like last time i feel utterly fucking terrified and under a lot of fucking pressure. and i just needed to spill it out. it didn’t help much in terms of making my thoughts any clearer or anything. but there’s small relief in knowing it’s not exclusively just inside my head anymore. and yeah feeling lost is Fun