#silverfox!emmet

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

In my remembrance of the late M. Emmet Walsh.

I like to think how hot a daddy 3-way with Walsh, John Goodman and I would have been.

Well… hot if John still had about a 100+ pounds on him.

Not body shaming John, but plenty would agree.

Fat John was way hotter.

[notforemmetophobes]

Christmas with the Kranks (2004) - M. Emmet Walsh 

[photoset #4 of 4]

[leggerefiore]

(SilverFox!Emmet x Reader. Suggestive. Love confessions. Mild Angst with a Happy Ending.)

———

He notices when you start to put distance between the two of you.

You still let him slide his hand over your ass, still let him pull you flush against him, still let him bend you over his desk during every break in the schedule and even after hours. You still let him do everything to you that he wishes he could do with honesty, rather than hiding behind a mask of casual lust.

But now you have a mask on, too.

He can see it, every time he takes you, makes you muffle your cries of ecstasy into your own palm. In the moments he’s inside you, you’re open, vulnerable; you look at him like he’s hung the moon, with absolute adoration, and it scares him a little bit. He’s not used to this, he doesn’t want to get too attached lest he run the risk of losing someone else, but you make it so hard not to love you.

You, who stays with him after hours just to make sure he won’t be alone. You, who reminds him to eat, brings him lunch you made for him because you knew he would forget. You, who makes every. Single. Day something to look forward to, whether he consciously notices or not. (He’s started to realize that he gets excited again to get to work, just so he can see you, and it hurts that he doesn’t remember when the last time that happened was.)

The mask you wear is not a slow-creeping thing; it snaps into place in the time it takes him to blink. You gasp and moan under him, cling to him, whimper his name, hold onto him like he’s your lifeline, bury your face in his chest after and refuse to move until he shifts you. (He doesn’t want to. He never wants to. But he knows that if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to hold you just as close as you hold him, and then any strength he had to push you away with will disintegrate.) But then, after, once he’s coaxed you out of his lap or off his desk, the mask slips on.

You fix your clothes and hair while facing away from him, but he can still see the tension in the line of your shoulders, the hitching of your breath. He notices, because despite him telling himself not to get attached, he can’t help but watch you, hopeless, longing. Everything he shouldn’t be and tells himself he’s not - but is.

(He loves you. Dragons help him, he loves you so much it terrifies him.)

He watches you tuck your shirt back in and fix the buttons. You hesitate, lingering with your hands still at your shirt, still, head bowed. He wants to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder but he stops himself before he can. Don’t get attached. Don’t give either of you false hope. But as he’s pushing down the ache he feels every time he denies himself your warmth, you turn, expression carefully blank, eyes misty and unfocused.

You give him a nod, a fake smile. (They used to be real - they used to grow in size and warmth when he spotted you looking at him from the corner of his eye. When had that changed?) He feels his stomach line with ice as you just… pick up your clipboard and look away.

“Uhm… I’ll… get you that report by the end of the day,” you murmur. Even the fake smile fades as you don’t look at him, and Emmet has to stop himself from launching around the desk and clinging to you like you had just done to him minutes ago - when he’d still had you in his arms, still been pressed against you, still been trying not to indulge in the soft, sweet kisses you’d left along his cheek and temple. (He should have kissed you back. He was afraid to.)

And then you’re gone. Out of the office and into the adjacent filing room, shutting the door behind you.

(Emmet tries desperately to pretend his heart doesn’t squeeze inside his chest, and that he didn’t see the way you’d looked like you were about to cry right before you’d turned and walked away.)

-

He only makes it another two weeks before he cracks.

Your mask gets thicker and the distance between you widens and Emmet can’t stop staring across it, wanting to reach for you but terrified to do so - wanting to pull you back from wherever your once-bright smile has gone but not knowing how.

You still let him pull you into his lap in the desk chair, still let him hike your shirt up and latch his teeth onto your skin. You still wrap yourself around him and tremble, even after you’ve both come down from your high. Again, you press your face into his neck and stay there, clinging to him, silent save for the faint hitching in your breath.

You start to move.

Something inside him breaks.

He wraps his arms around you and refuses to let you go. He can’t take another empty smile, doesn’t have it in him to watch you pull the mask back on and hide from him again. He doesn’t even know he’s crying, shivering, clenching his fists in the fabric of your shirt, until he hears himself whisper, “please don’t leave me.”

You still in his arms.

“…What?”

You attempt to lean back, probably to look at him, possibly to leave - he doesn’t know. He holds you tighter and begins breaking down with his eyes screwed shut against the tears spilling hot down his cheeks and into your shirt collar.

“Don’t go. I am Emmet, I can’t… Don’t leave.”

He feels your arms coil around his shoulders as you hold him, so fiercely it feel like he might suffocate. Good. He wants to drown in you.

“…Do you mean it?” you whisper in his ear, your voice is shaky, watery; he feels something damp against his temple where you’ve pressed your face into his hair.

He nods feverishly. “Yes,” he rasps. “I love you, yes.”

And suddenly there are hands pushing against his chest, scrambling to push him back, and he whines, desperate and pleading, trying to hold you closer as you manage to pull back enough to look at him, and oh…

You’re crying, too.

Your breath catches, your chest hitching as he sees your eyes search his face for a lie, trying to speak only to fail. You give up, gasp wetly, exhale a horrible, sad sound, and he pulls you down at the same time you lean back in.

Your lips meet properly for the very first time - he, for once, letting you kiss him and letting himself kiss you. It’s so much better than the scant few fantasies he’d allowed himself to have and as he whines into the kiss he can’t remember what it feels like to not kiss you. He never wants to be reminded.

“I love you,” you breathe against his lips, parting only for a moment to take a breath and sob a confession. “I love you so much. I thought you didn’t want me.”

Oh. Emmet feels his heart break all over again. How could he have done that to you? He’d all but handed you that mask of careful blankness, made you think he only…

He’ll do better. By both of you. He swears it with the next touch of your lips, murmurs his own confession over and over again inside his head and into the space between kisses so that you don’t spend another second thinking he doesn’t love you. More pleas and quiet, aching murmurs follow after, more desperate, hopeful begging for you not to leave him, for you to stay.

Please, I love you, don’t go, stay with me.

And in return you ghost your answers along the seam of his lips, the corners, into the kiss so that he breathes them in and feels his heart start to beat again after so many years of stagnation.

I love you. I love you. I’d never leave you. I love you…

Work is forgotten after that. Neither of you can bring yourselves to move from one another’s arms as you talk in hushed and tender whispers, voices low and vulnerable as your exposed emotions, finally laid bare.

You come in together the next day, hands entwined and emotions scraped raw.

It’s worth it, though, Emmet thinks as he looks over at you to find you watching him with a wide, adoring, genuine smile. He brings your hand up to kiss along your knuckles and feels his heart thaw just a little further at the warmth of your own.

“I love you,” you murmur, getting in one last one before you clock in and have to pretend to be professional again.

And for the very first time - the first of so very many more - Emmet lets himself believe everything might just be alright after all.

———

(Thank you for letting me write this!!! I love your silverfox!Emmet stuff, it gives me life! 💕)

~Spark💥

I think this is higher quality than anything I could have put out lol

Nah, don't thank me, thank you for sharing this💕

[peachypede]

All this silverfox Ingo and Emmet....what about silverfox! ocs??

So here's an au where Pecha is late thirties, almost forty. Her life went differently that it did in this au. Instead of making her own brand, she worked for her Tita at the restruant for a while before finding her passion as a seamstress. The twins are often her clients, and Ingo has started to gain a crush on her (much to Pecha's obliviousness).

And here's an older ref of her I made:

[outoutdamnspark]

Lost and Found

Some purely self-indulgent stuff this time; I randomly wrote out the “Reina gets drunk and confesses” scene for my Emmet x OC... Not Fic??? called Watching the Earth Rise.

Not completely relevant to the scene, but this one’s set in the AU version of their story, briefly described here, (though the text doesn’t seem to show up on my blog unless I’m on mobile? 😕 Idk why.)

Tl;dr - Ingo's been missing a decade, Emmet is 39, Reina is 29 and works at Grear Station. They are both Very Fucking Tired™️; emotional hijinks ensue. (Inspiration heavily by leggerefiore's SilverFox!Emmet au.)

So yeah, uh. Enjoy~

CW: depression, grief, alcohol, allusions to past tragedy.

(Sort of hurt/comfort; mutual pining, love confessions, pre-romance.) 

===

It’s well after midnight by the time her last bottle runs dry, but she’s still sober enough to feel the crushing weight of the silence in her empty, unfurnished closet of an apartment. Stupid, cheap, watery vodka; it had tasted like nail polish remover, the smell strong enough to make her sinuses burn, but she’s now two bottles in and it still it hasn’t been enough to get her so drunk she can forget. It’s not even tomorrow yet, not properly, because even though it’s not technically today anymore, there’s still enough of it left, spilling over despite the clock turning the hours from night into morning, that it doesn’t feel like tomorrow - and that’s the part that really matters. All she’s left with now is the aching quiet and the chemical taste of regret lingering on her tongue.

She needs something - a movie, a song, a voice, anything, because the booze isn’t doing its job, the night isn’t passing like it needs to, the 12th won’t end - but right now there’s nothing. She can’t rewatch The Kids on the Bridge for the hundredth time, she knows, because the music and the story, (usually things that keep her sane, keep her going, keep her alive,) will wreck her. Even the musical's 'darkest before the dawn' message won't be enough to help; the 12th isn’t the day for things she keeps close, it’s not the day for the pieces of herself that manage to stay afloat, taking in water but still hanging on for dear life. It’s the worst sort of irony, to have something she can turn to but only on any day that she doesn’t desperately need it. 

Anastasia is out, too, for the exact same reason, though amplified because of its deeper tether to her past - too much of a reminder of the too-few happy childhood memories when people now gone were still here. 

She doesn’t trust herself in her drunk-but-still-too-sober state to go digging through her music, either; the heavier stuff will just fuck with her head right now, too much all at once, and the rest, well. She made the mistake once of trying to put her playlists on shuffle so she didn’t have to choose a song. The resulting mental rabbit hole had almost been worse than the hollowness she’d been trying to drown out in the first place. 

She doesn’t want to wake her pokemon up, despite how much she desperately wants Cloak to wrap her up in her wings. Reina could use the cuddles - alarmingly so - but her team worry enough over her as it is, and they’re all probably asleep by now. She can’t burden them with this. Not again. Not for the tenth year in a row. They deserve to move forward in the way she can’t - or to properly mourn without having to babysit her, too.

Near to tears at the feeling of utter desolation slowly creeping in from the back of her skull, Reina reaches for her phone. She could call someone, maybe? Surely she knows someone still awake at this hour? 

Reina pauses, her tipsy mind defogging for a second, reminding her that she does not, in fact, know anyone. Other than her one friend back in Galar, (who is most assuredly either dead asleep or just barely waking up for work right now) her contacts list consists of the PokeCenter, two numbers that are no longer in service and never will be again, and name that never had a number to begin with, and her boss. Her workaholic, insomniac boss. 

Whom she has the stupidest fucking crush on. 

(Let it be said that poor states of mind, coupled with desperation, mixed with alcohol and budding affection, will dampen even the shrudest of impulse control. It is a formula to be feared.)

Reina’s holding her phone against her ear before she even fully processes she’s hit ‘call’. It vibrates the side of her head, the dull ringing on the line making her feel dizzy as the tipsiness rolls back in. She can’t tell if she likes it or not. 

The phone rings twice, three times, then picks up with a muted ‘click.’ 

“Miss Kageyama?”

Reina sucks in a deep, sharp breath at the sound of his voice. It’s like ice being pressed over a patch of scalded flesh, a soothing balm in auditory form, and for a moment she feels the horrible jitters subside just a little. 

But then she realizes what he’s said and her mouth pulls into a frown. 

“...Helllllllo?”

“Yoooooooooou,” she slurs accusingly, “are still at work.” She huffs. “Why are you still at work?”

There is a moment of silence, wherein her boss is likely blinking at his phone screen in confusion. He chuckles, just once. It’s a tense, unsure sound that doesn’t seem to hold much humor, just exhaustion. It still sends a tingle through Reina’s core to hear it so close to her ear, and she unconsciously presses her thighs together for the span of a heartbeat. 

“You don’t know that,” he says, and it might be either a deflection or an attempt at teasing, but Reina is too far into the bottle to be able to tell right now. 

Instead of picking one, she settles for responding with a, (perfectly mature) “Yuh-huh. Do, too.” 

She hears him take a breath on the other end of the line, readying a reply, so she cuts him off before he can make it. “You said ‘Kageyama.’ Kageyama is what you call me at work. Off the clock is Reina.” Another huff, this one morphing into a faint whine at the tail end. There is a small, quiet pout to her voice as she adds, much softer, “...I like it when you call me Reina…” 

More silence follows; then, finally, there comes the muted crackle of a shallow exhale. “...Reina…”

But she cuts him off a second time with a hum that, again, is more of a whine. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” Reina sits back against the bare wall she’s been cuddled up to this whole time, defiant despite him not being able to see her. “You can’t call me that yet because you’re still at work.” She pouts, harder this time, petulant like a child and just as stubborn. “Go home. You need to sleep.” Her tone shifts, some old protective instinct half-remembered drifting up and out from its dank little corner and coloring her words like a scold. “And… and probably eat something, too. And water. You need to…” She pauses to get a better grip on her words as they get heavier on her tongue, thick with alcohol. She ‘hnn’s through her teeth in frustration. “Mm. Don’t… You’re gonna say you already did, and you’re a bad liar, so I’m gonna know.” A third huff - something that has evidently become a good part of her vocabulary tonight. “You need to clock out and… I care about you, you fucking… you dumbass. Okay? Take better care of yourself.”

As much as she would (and inevitable will) be appalled at herself without the haze of shitty vodka, any and all thoughts of her own plight - of the 12th - have been successfully, albeit temporarily, pushed from her mind as her bottled-up affection and concern for one of the only living contacts in her phone begins to pour out in ernest. She frowns, almost scowls, and feels hot tears prickle behind her eyes. She grimaces; they do not fall. 

“...Reina,” Emmet says softly. It’s patient, ever-so-slightly frosty, like his guard is up, professional mask crooked but in place - but it’s still kind, still that same quiet sort of comforting that’s been wrapping Reina’s heart tighter and tighter around his little finger for months. “Are you drunk?”

She barks a bitter laugh. “Not drunk enough.”

“Oooooookaaaay…” He sounds… worried? Reina isn’t entirely certain since she can’t see him, but from the way he draws out the word, she can picture the little furrow of his brows that Emmet does when he’s out of his depth. 

He pauses. Reina waits.

“I am Emmet. You sound… Not. Alright.”

She can’t think of a lie, and it doesn’t register as important to do so, so she simply tells him, “I’m not.”

She hears him exhale. Not a sigh, just an exhale. (There’s a difference, she’s noticed.)

“Can I help?” he asks her, voice quiet. 

Reina wants to sob. He’s so kind! Even now, at quarter-to-one in the morning, when she’s most likely breached half a dozen boundaries - both professional and personal - by calling him while drunk, and calling him names. She can’t even fathom it, can’t comprehend it; there is no way this man is real, and certainly no way she deserves to be anywhere near him. (Her chest aches as she reminds herself that her love for him has been doomed from the very start, that she’ll never be worthy, will never have anything to offer him besides the tattered remnants of a person long broken past repair.) A tear finally falls, and Reina is suddenly choking. She shakes her head, both forgetting and grateful for the fact that he can’t see her through the phone. 

“N-no,” she hiccups. Her whole body shudders. “No you can’t. It’s… today is bad.”

“Bad?” he repeats. 

She nods again, sucking in a watery breath. “Uh-huh. The day is bad. The… the 12th. It’s bad.” Another hiccup catches in her throat as she reaches up to scrub her sleeve against her eyes. 

Emmet stays quiet as she sucks in another breath that doesn’t fill her lungs. Suddenly she remembers what today is, why she’d called in the first place, why she’d needed to hear his voice. She coughs on an exhale; it becomes a low, pained whine. 

He calls her name softly, gently, Emmet the Subway Boss now replaced entirely by Emmet her friend, Emmet the man she’s fallen head over heels for so hard that she’s surprised she didn’t break something. 

She coughs again, giving him an, “Uh?” to show she’s heard him. 

“Why is the 12th bad?”

Reina makes a sound low in the back of her throat. She doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but it rattles at her chest, leaving her feeling scratchy and raw. Her back bows and her neck bends until she’s folded so far forward that her forehead nearly touches the boring carpet. “I… I can’t,” she chokes, “I can’t. It’s just. It’s bad. Today is bad.” She emphasizes the word again and again, as if that alone will tell him what he wants to hear, what she can’t bring herself to say lest it break her down more than a single night’s sleep will be able to fix. Or at least, tape her back together. 

But she keeps going. 

Reina takes another wobbly, tearful breath. “But you’re not. You’re not, and that’s why I needed…” She sniffs. “You’re so nice it hurts.”

Emmet gives an airy, vaguely nervous giggle, unsure. “Uh. Thank you?”

Reina shakes her head until she’s dizzy. “Nooooo, you don’t - don’t get it. I have to tell you I love you. I have to. That’s what… I have to tell you today because… because…” She can’t get it out. No matter how she tries, she can’t tell him why it has to be today. She can’t tell him that today is the day she needs to cling to the memory of the people she loves and can no longer tell. She can’t give him the words to say that she needs to cling to him now, as well, because he’s the one person she can tell, and it feels like she’ll die if she doesn’t tell him before it’s too late to say it to him, too. 

And yet. 

“...Because today is bad?” he asks. And it’s so, so gentle, like he knows anyway - or if nothing else, he can guess. He knows there’s something important, something painful, even if he doesn’t know what it is. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. And it’s enough. 

Neither one of them says anything for a while after that. Emmet simply stays on the line as she cries openly into her hand. She can hear him breathing faintly, and it’s comforting to know he’s still there despite it all. Eventually, eventually, her sobbing slows, and Reina hears his voice once more softly calling her name. 

“Reina? Still with me?”

She takes a deep breath and lets it back out. It only quavers a little bit this time. 

“...Yeah.”

Emmet hums. “Good.” There’s a pause, like he’s thinking. “You should go to bed,” he says, and though it’s kind, there’s a slight edge to it, the barest hint of an authoritative tone. “Drink water first; you’re going to be verrrry dehydrated after this. Can you do that for me?”

She’s too wrung out to argue anymore. Besides, it’s… nice. To hear him say that; it stirs the same echoes that her own scolding had before - all that remains of a time long past. “Yes, Sir,” she breathes, already feeling the exhaustion settling in. 

“Good,” he says again. Then, gentler, “Do you need tomorrow off?”

Reina feels her stomach sink. “N-no. Please no, I don’t want–”

“Okay,” he shushes (kind, so goddamn kind.) “No tomorrow off. No leaving you alone. It’s okay.” 

She settles back against the wall, relief flooding her veins to drive out the panic. “Thank you.”

He just hums. 

A moment passes before he speaks again. “Reina?”

“...Yeah?”

“Go to bed now.”

She swallows the sticky, scratchy lump in her throat and wipes at the tear tracks on her face. She can do that, she thinks. She can do that now. “...Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “But… Only if you do, too.” 

That earns her a quiet chuckle, this one much more like an actual laugh. It’s tired, breathy, but real. 

“I am Emmet. It’s a deal.”

Reina giggles faintly in return. “Cute,” she whispers. 

“I… mmm.” 

Reina giggles again at his obvious attempt to stifle the familiar verbal tic - it’s a sign he’s flustered, and it makes her body feel warm to hear it. “Hee. Cute.”

There is an exasperated (flustered) sigh. “Good NIGHT, Miss Kageyama," he huffs, but it’s a bit less stern than it’s likely meant to be. 

“Reina,” she corrects.

“I am Emmet. Go. To. Bed.”

She snorts. “Going.” 

Her smile fades then, slowly melting into something… not quite peaceful, but calmer than she’s felt in a long time. It’s better, even if it’s not completely better. It gives her the strength to whisper one last thing before she heeds her boss’s orders and passes out on the carpet, wrapped up in her travel blanket. 

“...I love you.”

(And if, right before she hangs up, there’s a too-quiet whisper in return, she just chalks it up to her imagination, not so far gone in the last dregs of her intoxication to believe she’s heard him say it back.)

[wardenswateringhole]

LAST DAY TO VOTE FOR THE NEXT DATE SERIES!!!

Be sure to get your vote in (and learn some stuff about what you missed in the previous series) HERE

[wardenswateringhole]

Need to bite the bullet and create character sheets for all my characters. Tried working on the comic and forgot how to draw Timber...

I hate doing character refs though...

[outoutdamnspark]

[chat]

Dude... your Silverfox Emmet love confession piece got me crying in the club.

How dare you make me feel things!/jk

--Warden Anon

OH HEY! Warden Anon! :D I've seen you on Noodle's blog, hello!!!

And aaaaAAAAHHHHH THANK YOU!! 😭💕 I'm so glad you liked it!!! I wrote that thing at ass-o-clock at night, racing my dying phone battery. 🤣 And now to know it was all worth it!!!

I love SilverFox!Emmet stuff so much, and Fi's whole au is just. *chef's kiss* Perfection. (It's also what inspired the basis for my 'Watching the Earthrise' SilverFox!Emmet x OC verse, which, one day, I want to turn into an Emmet x Reader fic...)

[outoutdamnspark]

I just found this in my drafts and I don’t remember writing it or where exactly I was going with it, but hey! Have some random Gardenshipping thoughts!

(cw: none. one minor suggestive mention of office stuff. under cut for length)

For all the silverfox!Emmet x Reina stuff I’ve thought of, for some reason I’ve never thought of Reshiram!Emmet x Reina before? So...

🔥 I imagine Emmet is an aspect of Reshiram - not the god-dragon in full, but a piece of it. He’s probably reincarnated several hundred times by now, as the mortal aspect of Truth, and has memories of all his previous mortal incarnations as well as Reshiram’s memories and probably even a good chunk of Kyurem’s. The man is A Mess™️, especially after Ingo, his twin, his brother, his other half (platonic, don’t make it weird), vanishes. After all, what is Truth without Ideals to give it purpose?

🔥 That’s why, when he meets Reina and she becomes his personal assistant at Gear Station, he gravitates towards her. Just like in Gardenshipping canon, he starts to fall for her because of her genuinely kind and caring nature; she also has no idea he’s a piece of a fucking god, so she just treats him like a normal person. Not a celebrity trainer, not a deity, just. As Emmet. And he soaks it up like a man dying of thirst. Here’s this beautiful young woman who truly doesn’t care what or who he is, she just wants to make sure he’s eating and sleeping and taking care of himself. How can he not be intrigued by her?

🔥 He can also smell dishonesty a mile away and he can tell Reina is just actually that good of a person. Sure, she lies about her living situation (she doesn’t tell him that she’s unhoused for the longest time), but I’d imagine Emmet can also tell the intent of a falsehood, so he probably picks up on the fact that any lie she tells is born from the need to survive, rather than malice or the desire to mislead. She isn’t hurting anyone - she just wants to keep her misfortunes private, and Emmet can... sooooort of understand that? (He might not like it, it makes him worry about her, but in the end it really only affects Reina herself, which makes Emmet bound and determined to get to the bottom of her problems and help her in any way he can. The man is SMITTEN.)

🍃 On Reina’s side, I honestly don’t think she’s all that religious; Reina is from Kanto originally, and she has a lot of internalized stuff from the local belief system (i.e. she’ll say things like “Legends” or “Birds” in place of “Arceus” or “Dragons”). She’ll probably still have a subconscious desire to believe in something, but she doesn’t actively practice anything. Also, having only been in Unova for a couple of years at most, she might not really understand the region’s religion all that much. She probably doesn’t really think about it - which. Valid.

🍃 That being said, she would probably not know how to handle being face to face with a literal piece of a deity. For starters, her entire worldview would be - at the very least - a little bit shaken. After all, if you go from nearly thirty years of disillusionment and not fully believing in anything because you’ve been through absolute hell, to suddenly finding out the man you’re in love with (and who’s been railing you over his desk every day) is the Incarnation of Truth, you miiiiiight need a moment to process.

🍃 (That last part, especially, because how on earth do you reconcile the fact that you’ve had an actual god between your legs?)

🍃 Reina already has hella self worth issues, so to find out that her boyfriend isn’t even human, she might not handle it well for a while. In her eyes, what could a god possibly see in a lowly human like her? She still loves him, that part will never change, but she’ll have to take some time to try and reorient before she can even work up the courage to go near him again.

🔥 Emmet, in the meantime, is going to be utterly distraught. He’ll put on his trademark Subway Master Emmet smile, but it’ll be hanging on with a hope and a wish, because he is not doing okay knowing that the love of his life might be terrified of him now. He can’t lie, no, but he’s gotten really, really good at talking around the truth after countless lifetimes, so anyone that asks how he’s doing is getting a series of non-answers until he can slip away. Reina makes him feel normal, human almost, which is something he’s never fully gotten to experience - because while he might be a shard of a Dragon, he’s still somewhat his own entity, since he’s, you know, actually out in the world of man and not sitting dormant in a rock somewhere. He’s constantly torn between two halves of his own existence, and the thing that made it bearable all this time was his twin; with Ingo gone, however, Emmet has been feeling the extra weight of responsibility around his shoulders like a yolk for damn near a decade.

🔥 Until Reina.

🔥 (Like in regular Gardenshipping canon, one of the reasons Emmet falls for Reina is because she just treats him like a person. Doesn’t fawn, doesn’t get close to him just to challenge him, doesn’t pity him; just sits with him and lets him be a regular guy.)

🔥 I’m also imagining the way Reina even finds out Emmet is one of the God Dragons of Unova is uhhhhhhh not the most pleasant of circumstances. Probably Team Plasma, but I’m picturing there being some sort of siege on Gear Station or an attack somewhere that requires Reshiram’s attention, and somehow, someway, Reina winds up witnessing Emmet with his more draconian features and spewing ethereal fire. Get that sweet, sweet ‘oh shit’ moment with Emmet turning around, eyes slitted and glowing, claws out, wings sprouting from his back, fire still trickling from between fangs too big for a human mouth, only to see Reina standing there, completely frozen, just staring at him. 

🔥 The follow-up conversation is gonna be... a lot.

🍃 I feel like it’ll take about a week or so for her to be able to talk to him again

[wardenswateringhole]

A Date with Warden Ingo: What was Missed

It feels late enough into the day for me to post this.

Thanks everyone for taking part in this little experimental project. I'm not going list out every little tidbit y'all missed in case I decide to recycle some things for a possible second date, but here's some of the more notable outcomes y'all missed.

Choice: might I suggest something else.

This would have changed the location and events of the date completely.

Choice: Get away from me you smelly old man

This would have ended with Ingo shocked and walking away with a tear in his eye. Thank you for not making me draw that.

Choice: talk about battle Strategies

This would have eliminated the other pokemon choices on the poll for deciding what to do about the Alpha Garchomp, leaving only Walrein as your choice. Good on y'all for picking the best choice.

Choice: Pet the Gible

This would have evolved into a journey to get the little guy back his nest. Since your attention would have been on him while petting him, Henry would not have had the chance to jump on you and try to take your necklace.

Choice: Panic and Run Away

This would have ended with you returning to Jubilife alone. Over the next few days, Ingo would be reported missing. Nothing but his torn up hat and the destroyed picnic would be found at the fabled springs. He would never be heard from again.

Choice:Makeout with the man. Tongue and everything.

Would have ended with Ingo passed out on the ground in front of you. The poor man couldn't handle such forwardness.

I had fun doing this project. I'd like to do another one in the future. Maybe do it a bit more in advance so as not to suffer hiatuses like I did with this one. I can't give a time table on how soon it will happen, but I would like to know what everyone would like to see next.

[wardenswateringhole]

August is gearing up to be a bit busy.

I get to have my first visit to my new hematologist and see exactly what's going down with my condition. No idea how hard they're gonna go on me. There's a very real chance they will pull me off my birth control to get accurate readings so I might fall by the wayside once more.

Yes, they might make me intentionally bleed for a time to see how bad things are. I will observe the upmost care during this time.

Buuuuuut....

I've been sitting on it for a bit but I guess it's alright to say something now.

A DATE WITH SILVERFOX EMMET HAS ENTERED PLANNING PHASE!!!

@cupcakestreets and @peachsodama have been helping my senile old brain understand how to make ref sheets and giving good character design tips. Go tell them how beautiful they are.

Other than that, i'm still puttering around with stuff and annoying anyone who will give me the time of day.

I hope everyone has a grand day! Drink some water and stop slouching dammit!

See yall next time!

[wardenswateringhole]

Posting this before i pass out and forget tomorrow. I'm about to start making my own notebooks~ I'm excited~

Gonna be working on Shadowed Cross AU content and refining my new style more. I will be asking for ya'll's opinion on something related to the Date with Silverfox Emmet. Keep your eyes peeled for that.

[wardenswateringhole]

Your next date is with...

SILVERFOX EMMET!

Congratulations to Emmet for winning a poll. lol.

Thanks everyone for voting. Hope the next date is as entertaining as the first.

[wardenswateringhole]

I'm going to preemptively announce the delay of Date with Silverfox Emmet. I was hoping to get the whole shebang done before February but I've been sick for two months and despite having moments of feeling like I'm coming back, my body has finally said no more and I'm going to a doctor to see if something can be done.

I'm also playing with the idea of compiling everything for the date into a bundle so people can buy the entire thing and see the choice paths not taken. I don't know how I'd format this. I'm open to suggestions. I'd also like to retroactively go back and do it with the date with warden Ingo too.

Suggestions and feedback on such a thing would be helpful in gauging interest.

[outoutdamnspark]

Fellow SilverFox!Emmet simps, may I ask for your opinion, please?

How should I write him?

1: Dad bod from the get-go. Start the romance off with some sweet, sweet love handles~

2: Kinda skrunkly, forgets to eat/only eats takeout - but then gains some healthy weight back after finding love. Dad bod as a result of healing~

[outoutdamnspark]

‘Spark Writes’ Masterlist

Emoji Code:

🔞🍋 = smut/sexual themes (#lemon zest)

🔞🎃 = gore/violence/blood (#pumpkin guts)

💔 = themes of depression/grief/trauma/death/suicidal ideation

💖 = hurt/comfort

(Note: any ‘Submas x Reader’ or ‘Submas x OC’ is strictly Emmet x ??? x Ingo. Absolutely no blankshipping. Blank and proshippers DNI!)

Fics

◇ Ursa Major; Ursa Minor (Submas. in-progress)

(PLA. platonic a/b/o. found family. protective papa Ingo & pup Akari)

-> Ch.1: Dread

-> Ch. 2: Trepidation

◇ Watching the Earth Rise (Submas. in-progress)

(Age Gap Au. SilverFox!Emmet x oc Reina Kageyama)

-> Lost and Found (drunken late night love confessions) 💔

-> Cerulean (a walk home together)

--

Drabbles 

~x reader (no ocs) ~

◇ Drops of Rain on Foggy Glass (slasher!submas. Emmet x Reader) 🔞🍋

(’pt.2: Ingo’ currently canceled.)

◇ Marked (succubus!Ingo. Ingo x Reader) 🔞🍋

◇ Tender (for dvdclown) (Ingo x Reader. fluffy)

◇ Human (robo!submas. Submas x Reader) 💔

◇ My Heart in Your Hands (hivemind!submas. Ingo x Reader) 💔💖

~feat. ocs~

◇ Holy (for peachsodama) (Emmet x oc Pecha) 🔞🍋

◇ Promise (for bubblymilkgalaxy) (Warden Ingo x oc Sugi. pre-romance)

◇ 2am (for nc-eikin) (oc Reina & oc Mari) 💔

◇ Tease (for m4ster-ball) (oc Hina x oc Dorian) 🔞🍋

◇ Smoke Rings (for peachsodama) (oc Reina & centiskotch!oc Pecha) 💔💖

◇ *Smooch!* (for bellafragolina) (oc Reina x oc Ren)

◇ Strange Neighbors (for peachsodama) (oc Reina & centaskorch!oc Pecha)

◇ Mistletoe (for peachsodama) (oc Reina; oc Hina x oc Pecha)

◇ Bite (for r0-boat) (oc Cole x Reader) 🔞🍋

--

Headcanons

◇ Submas BDSM Aftercare (for nc-eikin) 🔞🍋

◇ Submas Lovemaking vs. Fucking (nsfw playlist-inspired) 

◇ Submas, Larry Vocal in Bed 🔞🍋

◇ Larry’s a Squirmer in Bed 🔞🍋

◇ Submas with Bipolar Disorder 💔💖

--

AUs

◇ Echoes in the Deep (Submas Pacific Rim AU. JaegerPilot!Submas x Reader)

-> ‘Welcome to the Shatterdome’ (intro oneshot)

-> plot outline pt. 1

-> plot outline pt. 2

◇ Soulmate Dream-Dive AU (stand-alone soulmate au idea) 💔💖

◇ Legend of Dragoon AU (head canons for Dragoon!Submas & OCs)

OC Stuff

Kageyama Sisters (all 3)

◇ Random Thoughts

[voice claims #1]

◇ Emoji ask memes

[one]

Reina

◇ Reina x Emmet ship meme

◇ Reina: 'Alphabet Kink’ ask meme answers 🔞🍋

[one] * [two] * [three] * [four]

◇ Reina: Emoji ask meme

[one] * [two]

◇ Reina: Random Thoughts

[singing & Kids on the Bridge collection] * [playlist personality meme] 💔

[metal screams] * [mental state & apartment] * [gift giving: Rawst]

◇ Reina: ‘Good Days and Bad Days’ drabble 💔

◇ The Kids on the Bridge Explanation 💔

Kana

◇ Kana x Warden Ingo ship meme

◇ Kana: Emoji ask meme

[one] * [two]

◇ Kana: Random Thoughts

[Hisui & her Pokemon] * [Kana & Osuke] * [Kana & Nise]

[gift giving: Sugi] * [gift giving: Isamu]

Hina

◇ Hina: Random Thoughts

[gift giving: Pecha] * [gift giving: Dorian]

◇ Hina: Emoji ask meme

[one] * [two] * [three] * [four] * [five]

--

D&D Ficlets

◇ Hound of the Emperor AU (dark route Gibrahltar Seventh-Star)

-> The Serpent and the Hound (Hound & Xikist) 💔

-> Oh God, Have Mercy (Hound betrays Emperor Cockerime)🔞🎃💔

-> What the Water Gave Me (Lloyd & Aetrin)