#i wanna hug you anon!

[weird-an]

“Can you help me with this zipper?” Argilly >:)

Billy is a little shit. He has been trying to get in Argyle's pants ever since they moved together three months ago. Has been batting his eyelashes at him, walking through the apartment butt naked, claiming to have forgotten his towel, telling Argyle how flexible he is, how much he can take.

And Argyle is tempted.

It's just that Billy never dates. Fucks a lot, always different men, never the same. Laughed at Argyle's question if he ever wanted to commit with that much self disdain it made Argyle sick.

The problem isn't that Argyle doesn't want to fuck Billy. The problem is that he wants to hold his best friend too, that he wants to make him breakfast, make him feel good and that he wants to keep him.

Only Billy is making it hard for him. Argyle lost count how many times he had jerked off with Billy on his mind - and next door.

Today is even more of a challenge. Billy still wears his dirty jeans from work and no shirt. He is showing off his chest, a few golden curls growing on his pecs.

"Argyle!" He grins at him like a cat that's getting its cream.

"Can you help me with this zipper?" he asks, sounding almost bored. "It's stuck and I need to get ready for my date."

Yeah. Those dates when Billy brings home broad men with black hair that probably treat him like shit and still make him moan like a whore. Sometimes he yells Argyle's name so loud, it's embarrassing.

"You can't be serious, my dude." Argyle shakes his head.

"Please," Billy says. "Help a guy out."

Argyle bites his lip, because he remembers the first week of living together when he told Billy that if he wanted something he'd have to say please like a good boy.

He leans forward, pulls the zipper down with ease - and he sees the glint in Billy's eyes too late. It's a trap and he should have known better, but you can't blame a guy for getting distracted by Billy's abs. It's only natural.

Billy is going commando. Always does, like he mentioned many times. He's half hard, cock a little red.

"Like what you see?" he asks with faux innocence - but Billy Hargrove has been a lot of things in his life and innocent isn't the word Argyle would choose.

"Pretty," Argyle says, because Billy is pretty and his dick is, too.

Billy's cheeks turn pink, maybe not the answer he had been looking for. Maybe Argyle can turn them a bit redder. He should probably let go, but he's always been one for a good ounce of hedonism.

"Shouldn't you thank me?" His thumb presses against Billy's dick. Billy's hands tremble. "For helping you?"

He lets go, unable to avert his gaze from the glistening tip.

Billy tugs at the waistband of his green sweatpants, hungry and impatient. He pulls his pants down and only when the cold air hits his skin, Argyle realizes he's hard himself.

Billy sinks on his knees, licking his lips. His pupils are black holes, eating up the bright blue of his iris and Argyle feels like he's smoked too much.

He wraps his lips around Argyle's cock, tongue teasing the slit.

Argyle groans, pleasure growing inside him, hot and electrifying. He bucks his hips forward.

Billy struggles a little to take all off him, spit running down the corner of his mouth. Argyle pauses, waits until Billy relaxes around him.

He strokes Billy's cheek, feeling the muscles work underneath there. He's moving a little, until Billy swallows his length whole, lips stretched wide. Billy's nose rests against the base of his cock, blond curls against his black ones.

He begins to bop his head back and forth. Argyle's groaning, can't help but to tell Billy how good he is, how beautiful, how perfect. He feels Billy shuddering with every word, but never stopping to twirl his tongue around Argyle's dick. It's addicting and Argyle can't be one of the guys Billy takes home and never speaks to again.

Argyle tugs Billy's hair, pulls him off his cock.

"This isn't a one time thing," he says, more a statement than a question. He can't let it be.

Billy blinks at him, gaze glassy and lips swollen.

"It isn't," he agrees hoarsely.

Something inside Argyle untwists. Like when he's had a long day and takes the first puff of a joint. Only Billy is better than any drug he has ever taken.

Argyle feeds him his cock again. Watches Billy's throat convulse around him, can't hold back anymore. He's fucking his mouth, sharp, impatient thrusts.

Billy's wet warmth and the thought that Billy is his, that none of these guys can ever touch him again, push Argyle over the edge.

He comes hard, his orgasm shooting him into foreign galaxies where all the stars have the colors of Billy's eyes.

He's riding out the high, fucking lazily into Billy's mouth, hand still buried in the blond mullet.

"Let me take care of you," Argyle says. He pushes a bit of his come that dribbled out back between Billy's lips. Billy sucks on his fingers, before letting go with a wet pop. "You've been so good."

"That's..." Billy clears his throat, face red. Argyle looks down. Milky release runs down Billy's tanned stomach, his cock softening against his jeans, still not pulled down.

"You can go again, right? A really good boy." Argyle grins. "Wanna hear you scream my name for me for once. "

"Always screamed it for you," Billy admits.

"I know."

[sqwdkllr]

Hey! I just wanted to tell you that I love your art so much 💖 I used to follow your art from before your dsmp era and I'm just really happy to see how far your art skills have developed!!!

NO WAY !!! Im midly surprised you happen to find my account again omgg this is such a compliment ahh <33 thank you dear anon ! just for you i will reupload some of 2020 -202X art in this very post !! including unfinished stuff ! if i were to upload ALL of it- well- theres just too much haha

{ Here ! - Ch. 2 }

[nathandrakeisabottom]

Yesss please sam drake food/eating hcs?? Fave meals, hated meals, etc

It is with great joy and great belatedness that I post my first Uncharted piece in ages. Thank you for the lovely ask, anon. :)

⋆ Sam Drake - Eating Headcanons ⋆

Two words: scarcity mindset.

After running away from Saint Frances’s, to claim money was tight is to be telling some humorous bit, Money was borderline non-existent. And as such, came what the Drake boys do best: theft. 

Liquor stores were their easiest, and most consistent source. Sam still takes great pride in telling his many stories revolving around ‘cashier meet-cutes’ disguising their proudest heist to date: a 12-year-old Nathan smuggling canned goods under a moth-holed hoodie. 

Because of this, gas station snacks: twinkies, Lays chips, slurpees, etc. all tend to give him this simultaneous sense of nostalgia and nausea. Like when you’re eating eggs and all of a sudden, your body gags on the next bite.

But on an especially shitty day, expect him to be gobbling a Big Gulp and a half-frozen hot dog on the nearest street corner, with a half-smoked cigarette still sunken between his lips. It’s the way he wallows. 

Secretly wants you to tell him how bad that shit is for him so he has an excuse to snottily spat back “who the ‘ell cares?”. He finds pride in not caring about anything. (He cares about everything.)

Getting fast food at the drive-thru? Man waves you off a total of three times claiming he doesn’t want nothing before proceeding to eat half of your McNuggets without asking. He loves BBQ sauce and needs Tabasco on everything like it’s his will to live.

Big fan of spicy, sour, and tart, anything that makes your mouth pucker. Pretzels, salt and vinegar chips, cottage cheese, pickles, pineapple (😉). “What can I say? I admire a fruit that fights back!” — he snorts before taking a raw bite of a lemon, just to squirm you out.

Maybe a bit of the masochist in him. 

When he and Nate were able to get proper gigs (12-year-old Nathan: illegally, of course), they were able to progress to the simplest of grocery outlet options. Eggs, instant ramen packets, canned vegetables that were 9 out of 10 times eaten raw out of the can with a fork, and more nothing-but-toast-for-dinner than they’d want to admit).

Sam and Nate spent most of their childhood eating their dad’s scrambled eggs and microwaved peas. When their mom passed, and dad released them to the state, Sam decided he’d only ever eat over-easy again.

Nate still chooses scrambled. He asks for cheese and green onions to split the difference, but always ends up only eating half of it before the memories come too strong and he has to push his plate away. 

QUICK eater. MESSY eater. And I mean quick and messy. 

Will use as minimal cutlery as possible, and if disposable, even better.

A scooper. Tends to be a chronic careless spiller with how frequently he tries to funnel all the last crumbs into his mouth, how quickly he chugs even a glass of water. (Most shirts of his are stained as a result.)

Tends to wait till the last possible moment to eat or drink anything. Breakfast basically doesn’t exist to him. 

Spills more beverage down his chin and shirt than his mouth (but a wet t-shirt certainly isn’t the worst thing to happen. Especially not to Samuel Drake. ;)

Pizza order: Meat Lover’s with extra sausage. Maybe some green bell peppers when he finally compromises with Nate during movie night.

Never, ever orders (well, non-alcoholic) drinks when eating out. And only water when he finally lets himself cave. Otherwise, he’s stealing sips from the nearest patron’s Jarrito bottle (his favorite is Tamarind).

Doesn’t bother cleaning up his fruit peels or peanut shells, even around others. That shit’s going on the floor without a second look.

Surprisingly, a king and natural on the BBQ. Despite having so little in their childhood, Sam still tried to go hard on the holidays for Nathan’s sake. Fourth of July is still Nate’s favorite holiday exclusively because of Sam’s public park-smoked ribs and the long, bumpy motorcycle ride up the highest hill in whatever city they were currently loitering in, just to see the fireworks. 

A dive bar master. Nate always orders whatever grease-covered appetizer they got in the back. Sam purposely keeps his stomach empty so there’s more room for whiskey. (Since nobody asked, incredible at pool, and will offer any woman in a twenty foot circumference a lesson. Cue the leaning chest over back, cue stick fantasy.)

A love language that was a total surprise to him is his partner cooking/baking something just for him, especially if it’s from scratch. Gets that rare, soft look in his eyes as he watches them carefully place each steaming plate onto the table. And trust, he’s not looking at the food when it happens.

Loves his partner in an apron. Like… loves his partner in an apron.

Make him food, and as soon as it’s eaten, he’s eating you after. ;)

When he finally settles down post-Madagascar, it’s a fucking struggle to get him to go grocery shopping at all for the first few months. 

Self-punishment, maybe. 

Nathan buys them himself instead and leaves them on the porch of Sam’s trailer park home when he’s too depressed to answer the door. 

Basically has to be forced to eat actual meat and vegetables. For the first few months, he reverts and eats only familiar prison food. The same single pot of chili/beans for a whole week, half portions only for each meal. Uncooked canned carrots. Microwave popcorn when Nathan calls him asking if he’s eaten, and when Sam lies, it sounds more believable with the microwave droning in the background.

However, when he finally starts to pick himself back up, when he gets his first day job since prison, finally lets Nate buy him a used truck to get around, his first solo call from Sully, that’s when he finally starts to eat.

And when he finally feels like himself again, when he finally lets himself want to live again, the first hobby that Sam Drake takes up is cooking.

[m1d-45]

Let it be known that I love writing fluff, and I listen to character audios sometimes. SO! I came up with a cute idea for sagau imposter au. I heard somewhere that Xiao's adeptus form is a bird, so I wonder, what kind of bird? And that got me thinking. Xiao being a little song bird, or perhaps even a cardinal.

Now imagine: while looking for the imposter, Xiao stumbles upon them sitting beneath a tree, just feeding some birds. Said birds are absolutely loving the attention since the creator of Teyvat is giving them food and love!

Xiao watches, rather curious. The creator he knows hates birds, because they always dive and cause problems for them. But now... these little birds have completely abandoned any fear they may hold for human beings, happily landing on the hands and shoulders of this supposed imposter.

So he decides to test something.

Xiao turns into a small bird and approaches cautiously. In his smaller form, he's vulnerable to attack. But the person before him doesn't try to hurt him. Rather, they smile and call him "little friend" as they offer food to him. In his distrust, he bites them with his sharp beak.

His heart shatters when he sees divine blood spilling from the wound.

He's about to fly away, get as far away from here as he can. He found the true creator, and instead of worshipping them, he bit them! He caused them to bleed, he shouldn't even be near them-!

His mind stills when they pet his feathered head.

They murmur kind words to him, apologizing to him. They believed that they had startled him, that he bit to protect himself. They forgave him, they felt no hatred towards him, no anger or disappointment. Instead, they offered some chopped almonds, hoping he'd prefer that over bird seed.

He sang for them as he perched on their shoulder.

After that, he did his best to secretly protect the creator he'd harmed. He would adopt his smaller form and sing for them when they felt sad, and he'd use his human form to guard them from a distance. Yes, it made his chest ache whenever they looked at him with fear when they saw his more human form, but the yaksha only shook it off. It only made sense that you'd be scared. He was a frightening person, one that had tried to harm you before. He refused to try and change your feelings towards him. He didn't have the right.

He would be content to sing for you as a harmless bird.

-sibling anon (sorry if this is out of character for him I just like the idea)

oh….. he’s so soft…..

xiao hovering near the edge of the crowd, at first, drawing your attention since he doesn’t seem to be eating any of the seed you’d passed out.

when he finally hops within arms reach, you reach to nudge some of the food next to him closer, only to quickly whip your hand back. the birds around (on) you all flutter at the sudden movement, but you inspect your finger, the blue blood of teyvat welling up. your instinct is to stick it in your mouth, but that doesn’t seem safe considering a bird bit it, so you dab at it with a napkin.

the bird cries and flaps his wings, distraught, and your heart hurts. poor guy, you probably scared him, moving so quickly.

you pull out some chopped almonds from your pocket. the plan was to have them as a snack, but now… you put a few in your palm and close your hand around it, reaching forward to gently run two fingers over the birds back.

the other birds in the area seemed receptive to that, and this one does too, calming down considerably.

you take your hand back, opening your palm to drop the almonds on the floor, nudging them close before backing off.

“there you go,” you murmur, as the bird dips down to inspect the food. “i won’t hurt you.”

you allow yourself a silent cheer when it eats one of the almond pieces.

you see the small bird fluttering around you often, always on the edge of your vision. it’s easy to identify, the purple patch of feathers on its forehead easily standing out, and you’re always certain to push some food over to it. almonds, not birdseed.

the bird is a dark blue-teal, the underside of its wings a softer blue. it’s like no other bird you’ve seen in liyue, something that quickly catches your attention.

you brush some dirt off you as you stand, noting the way the bird immediately looks up from its food, unlike the others, to flap up into the tree you were sitting under.

you crack a smile, carefully reaching a finger for it. you’re slower this time, cautious of its skittish nature, but it lets you approach. when you carefully pet over its head, the birds eyes close.

your smile grows, and you try not to laugh at how confused the bird seems when you pull your hand away.

“i have to go,” you explain. “the millelith… they’re getting too close again. i won’t be able to see you again, little friend.”

the bird chirps, nearly indignant, and you do laugh this time. putting a small piece of almond on the branch in front of it, you wave goodbye to the other birds, seeing the blue one hadn’t touched the almond.

you frown. hopefully it’ll be alright….

xiao watches you until you’re out of sight, and even then, he stays on the branch.

you…. he’d forgotten you were being hunted by the millelith. he’d forgotten the order to look out for you. he’d forgotten the qixing called you a criminal.

who could blame him? it was easy to forget everything at your side, when you carefully ran your fingers over his feathers, scratching at his jaw with the edge of your nail. yes, he was vulnerable as a bird, but it was easy to be vulnerable with you. it was easy to be open, to sing as best he could in this form, to allow himself close enough to see the way your eyes lit up whenever another bird landed on your outstretched finger.

xiao dropped to the ground, morphing back into his human form. predictably, the birds cawed and flew away quickly. he watched them go, his mind contrasting it with how readily they flocked to you.

you…

he turned to the branch he was on, to the small almond piece left behind. the small symbol of your care, of how you recognized that he didn’t touch the birdseed and instead offered him your own food to eat. normally he wouldn’t lower himself to eating off the ground at all, let along bird food, but almonds weren’t awful and you seemed so happy when he ate..

xiao looked back to where you’d gone, to the sandbearer trees swaying in a soft wind.

he allowed his form to fall away and spread his wings, taking flight on the same breeze that urged you along.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little while longer, if it meant he could spend that time with you.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little longer, if it meant he’d get to spend that time with you.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Imagine randomly holding mothman’s horns when he leans down for you to pet his head. He’d be all confused on one, why youre holding his horns just entirely still and more importantly two: why arent you giving him his well deserved pets instead

ah *nods sagely* like a motorcycle,,,

see, he's still as stone when you do this, confused and waiting for your next move- you must have something planned, right? there's no other reason why you would deny him his headpats!! after a few minutes of you holding his horns he begins to grumble impatiently, flexing and curling his claws upon seeing your mischievous smile- you're doing this on purpose to see his reaction! you can't help but laugh at how utterly betrayed Legacy looks, turning his head away and crossing his arms as he sulks

your hands finally release his horns, only to trail down and cup his cheeks, your palms pressing against his crimson mask, and Foul Legacy melts. his annoyance completely washes away as he squeaks in realization before leaning heavily into your touch, talons wrapping around your wrist as he purrs sweetly. you lift a hand and run it through his thick ginger hair, Legacy leaning and leaning against you until he simply plops into your lap, rumbling and kneading his claws carefully against your legs. playfully you take hold of his twin horns again, using them to gently move his head back and forth, and he lets out a delighted, adoring chirp

now whenever you grab his horns he starts purring, knowing that he's about to get some good scritches and snuggles <33

[wlw-cryptid]

your tag about wanting to be mounted by a butch has driven me insane. i know it'll fit. we'll make it fit. there'll be room for all my cum, too. I'll hug you from behind the whole time, sweet thing.

what if you saw how soft my skin looks and how shyly i bat my eyelashes. what if you heard my breath hitch when you show a little strength and you could just see all my sad posts begging to be mounted playing over in your head. what if you picked up on all the tiny ways i was trying to say i need it and decided it was gonna be your job to make me beg for it out loud too

[chelseasdagger]

CHELSEA!!!! HAVE YOU SEEN TRAILER TO DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN?!

BEARDED FRANK IS BACK BEARDED FRANK IS BACK

- 👽

OH FUCKOH YMGMCOD OH MY GOD WAIT SHUT THE FUCK UP WHAG

i JUST WOKE UP. I LITERALLY ONLY SAW THE FOOTAGE OF THEM WALKING ON STAGE AT D23. THERES A NEW TRAILER?! FUCK

[whereismyhat5678]

(hey, the requests are open??? if so, can we see Mr..stick giving burton some tiny-little tummy kisses/raspberries blows, pretty please?)

also wanted to say that your drawing style has changed a lot and you should be proud of what you have achieved! dude, you're a great dude and we love you. <)

(Should remind people I call Mr. Stick Samual so they won’t get confused 😅)

I GOT PUNCHED IN THE GUT WITH THAT LAST PART I SINCERELY THANK YOU-

No man, I really appreciate the words 💗💗 I think my art has improved a lot through the years (and even the months I’ve been on here!) so it really means a lot that people are noticing that as well. It really makes me want to cry bro, thank you so much TuT

[rodolfoparras]

Hey Alec jùst wanted to ask you if you wabtedto play stardew wanted together? I'm a bit drunk but kinda tipsy atp. You're free to say no or to just ignore the ask, bur let me know if you do wanna play

-Junimo anon (if that's ok?)

Hello sugar bee! This is such a cute ask please😭😭 thank you so much for the offer little love but I deleted the game a while ago 😔 however I’m sure someone else on here would like to play so definitely send your user in another message and I can post it (if you wish to do so that is!!) bless your little heart and please stay safe while drinking MWAH

[just-venti-ng]

I was thinking of something to say to you but my brain is too full of silliness so I got nothin...

😔

"Do not fret, dear Maro, for we needn't share words, only each other's company, in order to be happy!"

[just-bendy]

would y’all like comfort in these trying times? *puts arms out*

[@quackity379] [@whisperseb] [@theweirdgrimlin] [@theybaltsxi] [@dancingdemonsblog]

Heheh, well thanks. I'm feelin' much better now! Thanks fer all the hugs, seriously. There's no shortage of hugs here, no siree. And I'm adorable because I was designed that way.

[cable-salamder]

Hehehe. I’m the same person that asked about the real life child yeeting. You know me in real life. Who am I? We shall never know.

On a different note, what’s your opinion on trees?

You say that as if I cannot tell exactly. I know what who you are.

Anyways trees are absolutely beautiful best thing to ever happen go hug a tree if you can because you never know when someone might decide to tear it down

[windydrawallday]

I’m sorry to hear you have been dealing with burnout and art block :( Take the much needed break you deserve to have! We understand that but just know I love seeing your art and your use of colors is always amazing to look at! Rest and keep up the great work!

Yeah orz it wasn't easy to keep at bay the desire to draw when my wrist was in pain-- I'm better now but my head feels quite empty, even making me stare blankly at the blank canvas when facing again the idea of making art hahaha ay

Lemme spill more beans here because gosh: I feel like I ran a marathon... on a treadmill. I put so much effort but because I don't see it moving anywhere, my tired brain registers it like failure.

But I know that's not true. I just need to hammer (gently) the real truth on my forehead for the next few days and take a good long breath.

That's what I'll try to do so, yeah! I'm not gonna give up this easy.

Resting is not quitting.

Thanks for the nice words and good wishes 💗 it really did good to my spirit to read this!

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

Hey :) i was the anon who asked if you're taking requests. This is a bit specific, so if you don't feel like writing this, that's totally fine. It's fun ghoul (in case you write for him, otherwise frank) x fem!reader (if that's okay). Reader has a few bigger scars on her face (from fighting some dracs or just general assholes) and is feeling pretty insecure about it. One day some people are making fun of her for it and her friend and crush Fun/Frank overhears and gets angry for her sake. She later asks him why he defended her so much, and he confesses he likes her?

You can probably guess who i am now, but I'll stay on anon anyway 😅 as I said, if you don't feel comfortable writing this, i totally get it. But I thought asking isn't hurting anyone.

Have a great week!

The World is Ugly (Frank Iero x reader)

Summary: Frank's best friend has had some pretty rough shit thrown at her by the universe recently, so he's delighted to see her out and about again. But when something happens that infuriates him completely, he's left with no choice but to reveal a secret he's been keeping for years...

Word count: 3689

Warnings: discussion of traumatic injury and facial scarring, people being assholes and making asshole-y comments

(y/n) pronouns: she/her 

AN: I really, really hope that I did this justice for you, sweet anon. While I don't have facial scars, I understand very well what it's like to have something about your body change very suddenly, and the struggle to adapt to that. I understand the pain, and the distress, and the wishes for things to go back to normal. But I promise you, you are still the person you were before. You are loved, and you are wonderful, and you are important.

Things do get better. It can take time, and it's very rarely a smooth process, but better is possible.

I believe in you <3

The mirrors in her apartment were still covered. 

With some of them, it was easy to invent an excuse. Oh, the one propped up against the wall with a button up thrown over the top half? Yeah, that’s just some laundry that I haven’t found the time to put away, and at least when it’s there I can’t trip over it. The little mirror on the desk covered by a tote bag? Well, it kept reflecting the sun in my eyes while I was working so it was just easier to do that. But others, it was harder to explain away. The bathroom mirror, certainly, was a tricky one to come up with something logical for. 

Realistically, everyone that visited knew exactly why they were hidden, just as much as (y/n) did. But nobody would even think about mentioning it. It was too soon, and she clearly needed time to acclimatise. Big changes had happened, and obviously she was still very firmly in the middle of the adjustment period. It was understandable, really. 

A traumatising incident that left significant facial scarring would be horrendous for anyone to deal with. 

She knew that, in time, she would have to accept the changes that had happened. The doctors had said that even once things had healed up fully, there would most likely still be some permanent marks. They had suggested some different things to try, types of creams and oils that could help make the lines less noticeable. But they had also been very clear - it was highly unlikely that her face would ever be quite the same again. Those scars would always be there in some capacity. 

Right now, thinking about that was far too much to bear. Which is why for now, for the forseeable future, the mirrors would remain shrouded. 

It was far more challenging to keep away from other people. Over the first couple of weeks, (y/n) had relied on her family and friends to shop and bring food home to her, simply unable to face the thought of going outside where strangers would be able to see. But cooping herself up inside was driving her insane. She missed the warmth of sunlight on her skin, the sensation of light rain dampening her hair. She missed the sound of dogs playing in the local park when she walked to the bookshop, and the shitty music that filled every store. She missed the smell of the bakery a few streets away, and the smile she always got from the pretty girl at the flower shop next door. She missed human existence. 

And so, staring at the empty carton of milk in her hand and the sparse leftovers in the fridge, she decided that she was going to go back to it. It would be difficult, obviously, but if she stuck to her old routines, she was sure she could manage. 

It was either this, or spend the rest of her life as a hermit. And she knew which idea she preferred. 

Thankfully, it was cool enough outside that (y/n) definitely needed a hoodie - the wind was disturbing the branches of the tree in the little shared garden of the apartment block, and the weather forecast promised rain later. Neither of those things were of vital importance to her; what mattered more was the fact that she would have an easy way to hide her face if needed. 

Going outside for the first time felt a little like being freed from prison. Her incarceration had been self inflicted, but the relief at liberation was a feeling any prisoner would understand. The feeling of the breeze against the new contours of her face, still very sensitive a week after the stitches had been removed, was bizarre. It felt like a cool finger was mapping them out: the one that crossed the bridge of her nose, the large one spanning her cheek, the places where scar tissue met hairline and lip and eyelid. Had she looked at her reflection, she would likely have been pleasantly surprised; none of the scars were as thick as they felt, and they already appeared to be healing fairly smoothly. Scars often feel far worse than they look, and getting used to the idea of their presence is half the battle. But of course, she wasn’t ready for that just yet. Healing takes time, of course. And baby steps were better than no steps at all. 

Her first stop was the bakery; bravery deserved a reward, and just getting past the foyer of the apartment building had taken a huge amount of guts, let alone getting this far. The teenager behind the counter had beamed when she went in, already reaching for her regular shopping. 

“Hey, it’s been far too long! I almost thought you’d been stolen away by that place down the road. Still going for the same stuff?” 

The fact that they hadn’t even commented on her face, simply looking pleased to see her, almost made her tear up. “Yeah, the usual is good with me. Throw a couple of those doughnuts in as well though, please. It’s been... a rough couple of weeks.”

As they took her money and handed over the bag, their smile softened. “Those doughnuts are on the house today. We, uh... we heard what happened. And we’ve all missed seeing our favourite customer, so... it’s nice to have you back.” 

Just about managing to croak out a ‘thanks’ before saying goodbye, promising to be back in again soon, she left. The tears that threatened to fall were happy ones. To have someone treat her just like an ordinary person was all she had wanted. Things were off to a far better start than she’d imagined. 

The next place she wanted to go was the coffee shop - because making her own was just far too much effort, quite honestly, but the number of people in there made her pause for a moment. There’d only been one other customer in the bakery, and he’d spent the entire time engrossed in a YouTube video while eating his way through a bag of mini cheese pastries. The cafe, in comparison, was pretty much packed. 

A familiar grinning face appeared in her line of sight, and the sound of Frank’s voice snapped her out of her little reverie. 

“Hey, if it isn’t my favourite person in the whole wide world! Good seeing you, sweet cheeks. You doing okay?” 

She nodded, pulling a slight face and desperately trying to ignore the way that her heart rate had picked up at the sight of him. “Yeah, I’m... alright, I think. I was just...” 

Having known (y/n) since the two of them were eight years old, Frank understood every one of her little expressions. Every thought and concern in her mind was clear to him. He held out a hand, smiling softly when she tucked herself against his side. He stroked her waist the way he always had done when one of them was feeling down, both of them comforted by the gentle repetitive motions. No matter the situation, being in each other’s presence was often enough to settle their emotions and bring a little clarity to their thoughts. 

“How about I pay for the coffee this time? I’m pretty sure I owe you a few cups anyway, after the last few trips out, so why don’t I get you this one?” 

“That would be nice, yeah...” The hesitation in her voice was blatantly obvious, and he squeezed her just a little tighter. 

“Hey, it’s just you and me. Coffee. We’ll get it to go, and then go sit in the park and stare at all the cute dogs for a while. Sound good?” 

She didn’t even need to look at him to know he was doing those infamous puppy-dog eyes again; it was a look he’d developed decades ago, and it worked on pretty much everyone. No matter who he used them on or what he wanted, whenever he broke them out things were basically guaranteed to go his way. He dropped his bottom lip for added effect, and she felt her heart do a somersault. She was just as under his spell as everyone else was. Well, probably more so.

“Oh, go on then. Only because you’re paying.” 

Grinning, he grabbed her by the hand and led her inside, joining the end of the rather long queue as he filled her in on what had been going on with the band since they’d last seen each other. Frank had been one of the people to bring stuff round to her flat in the days after she’d come home from the hospital, but they hadn’t had a proper conversation during that time. She’d been so worried about what he’d think of the way she looked now that she hadn’t wanted him to see, hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to say something. But so far, he was treating her exactly like he had always done. If she had more time to think into that fact, it would probably upset her all over again: she was desperately hoping for the day that he turned around and told her that he needed more, that he loved her too much to just be her friend. For now, though, normal was enough. Normal was what she needed. 

In between Frank’s rambles on what the band’s latest project was shaping up to be and the bursts of noise from the coffee machine, soft whispers were starting to worm their way into her ears. At first, she desperately hoped she was imagining it, but no - people were definitely talking about her. 

A little boy was tugging on his dad’s sleeve. “Daddy, what’s wrong with that lady’s face?” 

On the next table over, a grandmother was shushing a set of twins. "It's rude to stare, no matter what people look like. Now keep your voices down."

But far worse than innocent childish curiosity were the reactions from the older customers in the shop. Grown adults were sneaking sideways glances at her before turning back to their friends, making almost silent comments and hiding sneers behind their fingers. Some were openly staring, mouths agape and eyes wide.

Feeling the new tension in her shoulders, Frank squeezed her hand, leaning in to murmur against the side of her head. "You doing okay?"

"I... people are saying things. I can tell."

"I know, sweet cheeks. Please don't pay attention to it - I know that's really hard, but we won't be in here much longer. Look, there's only one more person in front of us. Then we can go hang out with the puppies. And those puppies will give you all the love you deserve, okay?"

Managing a nod, (y/n) relaxed a little as they reached the counter, concentrating on the way her best friend's eyes sparkled when he smiled and thanked the barista. She often thought that she could look at him forever - that those eyes, that face, would look perfectly at home in a work of classical art. He was just flawless.

The technique of focusing on the tiniest details of his features worked. She kept her mind occupied with his miniscule freckles, ridiculously pretty eyelashes, the way his hair curled slightly around his ears. He filled her brain entirely, chasing all the negatives away.

Until they turned to leave.

Half way through the queue was a group of teenage boys - and they were staring at her in sheer disgust. Noticing this, Frank shifted so that he would be walking closest to them, doing the best he could to shield her from view. But of course, that couldn't stop them talking.

"Ew, gross."

"What's wrong with the Joker over there?"

"If I looked like that, I wouldn't ever let other people see me."

"Damn, I hope she stays away from kids. That shit's scary."

Very calmly, Frank stopped and handed (y/n) his coffee. "Would you hang onto this for a second, cupcake? I'm about to have my hands full." And as she took it from him, he grabbed the tallest of the group by the collar and dragged him down to look him in the eyes. "You dare speak about her that way one more time - you even THINK something like that about her - and I'll make your face look more fucked up than it already is. You all wanna talk about ugly, go take a look in a mirror. And if you don't like the idea of no longer having your balls attached to you, you'll apologise. Right this instant."

Recognising the man who was threatening them, all four boys blanched, huddling together and barely stuttering out something vaguely like an apology. Arms folded across his chest, Frank was ready to tear them to shreds, but (y/n)'s hand against his upper back made his temper settle marginally. He turned back, and the sight of her trembling very nearly made him launch at the boys again. But the rational part of his mind took over, making it very clear that the best thing to do was just get out of there. And so with one final glare at the offending morons, he led her out to the street.

"Do you wanna go to the park, or do you want me to take you home?"

Taking a deep, faltering breath, she sniffled. "Home. Please."

"Your wish is my command, sweet cheeks. Come on. Let's go."

The walk back to her place was short, but they spent it in silence. He desperately wanted to say something to her, but knew that now just wasn't the right time. Over the years, he'd learned that quiet was the best thing for her until she decided to speak. Pushing conversation too far only ever made the situation even worse.

(y/n) was mute until the two of them were comfortably situated in her living room, sat at opposite ends of the tiny sofa as they sipped at their coffees.

"Thank you for being there."

"Hey, I'm always gonna be there for you. Every time. You could be stuck at the top of Mount Everest and I'd still make it up there to kick some ass if you needed me to."

She snorted, setting her drink down. "You hate the cold."

"That wasn't my point, and you know it." He rolled his eyes, kicking at her feet. "Those kids were total assholes. Half of me wants to go back there and kick their asses all the way into the next century."

"I'm glad you didn't actually do anything, I don't want you getting arrested for me. I’m not worth that much effort.” 

“You absolutely are. To me, you always have been. And you always will be. You're the most important person to me in the whole world.” 

His expression shifted a little, and (y/n) could read him like a book. The prevailing thought in his mind was panic. Clearly, he hadn’t intended to say that in quite that way. And that just made her want to dig a little deeper. 

“Frank... what are you saying?” 

“I just- well, I care about you, obviously. You’re my best friend, of course you’re worth it.” 

“No, that’s not it. I can tell.” 

“I swear, it’s-” 

“Please. Just tell me. I... I need you to be honest with me, okay? I can't keep worrying about the way everyone sees me now. I can't keep worrying that you don't see me the same.” 

He seemed to flounder for a moment before coming to the realisation that this time, he wasn’t going to get away with some flimsy excuse. She was far too clever for that. It had to be everything, raw and unfiltered and straight from the soul. “I’m saying that I love you. More than I could ever possibly describe. You came into my life scrawling smiley faces and animals on my arms in permanent marker, and you wrote yourself into my heart at the same time. I’ve never had eyes for anyone else - it was always an act. Every time someone asked, I’d choose a person at random so nobody would find out it was you. I couldn’t face the thought of losing you if you found out how I really felt. Hell, half my tattoos are based on something I remember about you, something you drew or said or made me laugh about. You are just... everything. Perfection. The sweetest soul this hellhole of a society has ever seen. I'm pretty sure I've loved you forever. That I was born to love you.” 

She could feel the tears catching at the patches of new skin on her face, but couldn’t find it in herself to care about the bizarre sensation. This was what she’d been waiting to hear since she was thirteen. “How... how long has it been? Really, how long?” 

“Um... well, thinking about it... since we were, like, ten. Maybe even before that, but that's probably when I started to notice it.” 

“And you...” She trailed off for a second, trying to think of how best to phrase things. “Even now that I look like this?” 

Frank practically threw himself across the couch and hugged her as tightly as he possibly could, burying his face into her shoulder as he let all of his thoughts out. “You’ve always been beautiful to me. Always. Even when you let your mom cut your hair when you were nine and the bangs were all wonky. Even that time you tried to dye your hair without any help and it went that weird shade of green. Oh, and the time you accidentally shaved off a whole eyebrow so you had to get rid of both, and you could never draw them both the same. Every art class where you ended up with multicolour freckles, and never remembered to wash them off before coming to lunch. Those hideous fake glasses you wore for a year because you were convinced they looked cool. I’ve seen you in every state imaginable, and I’ve never stopped loving you. I've seen you delirious with the flu, unable to walk because you were so hung over, greasy and tangled after not showering for a week. There are so many brilliant, unique things about you. And even if they aren't always things you like, they're still special. These scars are just another special part of you that we can both get to know.” 

Scoffing a little, (y/n) extricated herself from his grip and shuffled back, arms folded over her chest. “They’re not special, they’re awful.” 

Understanding that she needed a little space, he settled for resting a hand on her arm. “Hey. You’re allowed to hate them, you know? It’s totally okay that you do. I just really need you to know that I don’t. I could never hate any part of you, and that includes them.” 

“But I’m not the same.” Her voice cracked a little, and she sniffled, determined not to break down. “I don’t... feel like I’m me any more.” 

“I get that. It’s a big change, and it’s one that’s gonna take time to get used to. But I promise, it doesn’t make a difference to the person that you are inside. And it doesn’t make a difference in the way I feel about you.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because a life without you is not one I’m interested in living. Every second I’m without you, it feels like my soul is waiting for the rest of it to come back. You are everything to me.” 

He sounded so confident in his words, the honesty practically seeping from his pores, and she knew him well enough to know that he was telling the truth. He really did mean every word he’d said. And that was enough to start the flow of tears again. She didn’t resist as he took her back into his arms, kissing softly across her hairline as she melted against him. 

“I’m sorry. I- that was a lot. If you don’t feel, you know, quite the same way I do, then that’s-” 

Frank found himself unable to speak mid-sentence; (y/n)’s lips were locked against his own, and all he could do was kiss her back. They were both a little breathless when they broke apart, and she jabbed a warning finger into his chest. 

“Don’t you dare apologise. I’ve thought about kissing you, probably since I was twelve. Every date I ever went on, I wished it was you. I spent so many nights laying there in the dark wishing I was brave enough to say something, so I wouldn’t have to watch you with other people any more. I don’t think it’d be possible for me to ever love someone else as much as I love you.” 

Those last three words left them both in silence for a moment, overwhelmed by the enormity of what they’d both just confessed. And then, (y/n) started to giggle. He eyed her curiously. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Well,” she shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I just... that’s not exactly how I imagined our first kiss to go, that’s all.” 

He snorted, stroking gently at the spot where the largest of her scars disappeared into her hair. “Yeah, I don’t think I pictured it like that either. It-it was good though, wasn’t it?” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely not complaining.” 

“I mean, we could always... do it again? Just so, you know, we’re sure we’re doing it properly.” 

The little glint in his eyes made her heart flip, and she nuzzled against him. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Good. Because now it’s happened once, I plan on kissing you for the rest of your life. I’ve imagined doing it for so long, there’s no way I’m letting you slip through my fingers again. I hope you’re okay with that, sweet cheeks.” 

As his lips brushed against hers, feather light and tasting of sheer desperation, she just about managed to answer before he took her breath away completely. “I’m sure I can cope with that.” 

[nolanhattrick]

Hi! I just wanted to pop in & say that over the past year or so you've answered several of my (anonymous) asks & you're always very helpful & thoughtful with your replies, & that I truly appreciate it :)

see guys i'm not always a vicious attack dog

[janeway-lover]

pa' jIQampu'DI' jI'uchtaHvIS.

SoHvaD ngevwI' 'e' vIHar.