#ddadds warning

[ccircusclwn]

gahhh im starting to put the multi in multifandom again.... what....

[petergriffinhateblog-blog]

first off, thank you for stepping forward and giving me your opinion despite it conflicting with some of my previous ones. it means a lot to hear an opposing view, and i respect you for taking time out of your day to send me these messages. i do hope i make it very clear that i’m willing to hear people’s sides to these sorts of things- especially since this is a game i haven’t actually played, so my neutrality on the game could very be the “he who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it“ sort of thing!

anyway, onto the main topic..

i don’t know how deep the game grumps were really involved. when looking around, it seems as though vernon shaw (who may questionably considered a game grump, since he’s part of the crew) and leighton gray are the actual makers of it.

you’re absolutely right, GG’s humor tends to be... (vague handwave motion coupled with a side-eye), but they’re still not the main writers behind it. i don’t think any of the Main Grumps (arin, danny, ross, barry, or brian) participated at all within that writing. it may not alter how you feel towards it, because their name is still plastered on the front of it and they still DO make jokes that can be interpreted fairly easily as homophobic (or transphobic or racist, though these latter two are not part of the topic at hand and are just included for the sake of others knowing they’re acknowledged as well), but the writing that is involved should still be credited where it is due.

either way, as i still don’t know the creators of the other dads as much as i’ve heard about the ddadds creators, i still don’t think it’s fair to judge one with creator intent and not the others. it’d add a whole new swaying scale of points that isn’t there for the rest of them, which may ultimately invalidate any sort of points the dads could have on their own anyway.

[imoutofpracticeyall]

Hello again, I'm the anon that asked about the requests. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for Joseph and Damien about an anorexic dadsona? I completely understand if you refuse, it's just that I was recently put in recovery and it's hard to find representation of male anorexics in media.

Okay, well firstly, I want to say I’m proud of you for getting into recovery, eating disorders are so hard to deal with and you are doing amazing, I hope I do this justice!

Joseph:

Whilst Joseph does have an understanding of anorexia in children- as part of being a youth minister- he has never personally counselled a child through it, let alone an adult. He’s a little awkward at first, not because he’s being dismissive but because of his own relationship with food. He comfort eats, it’s a coping mechanism he’s had for a while and he struggles to control it. He becomes hyper-aware of himself and his habits around Dadsona at first. 

Pretty early on in knowing Dadsona, he will sit him down and explain this. He wants to understand Dadsona and help him, he cares and would hate to cause him distress. So they have a long talk about their triggers and signs and how they can be more mindful of each other and it’s strange bonding moment that brings them closer. It helps them to feel more comfortable around each other, knowing they can just say to the other that today is bad and they’re struggling and their partner will understand.

Sometimes he can be overbearing, it can be hard for him to shut the counsellor part of him off, he’s analysing and adjusting all the time and forgets to just be himself with Dadsona. It can be grating, it can cause them to clash occasionally. When it happens he’s always the first to apologise.

He knows recovery is a long and rocky road and he is in it for the long haul. He’s quite happy to spend days inside with Dadsona when he’s too fatigued and low of mood to go outside and just spend the cuddling up and complementing him, trying to raise his spirits. He trusts Dadsona to be by himself when he says he needs to be alone and will always be there if Dadsona asks for help.

Damien:

When Dadsona tells Damien about the anorexia and his stage of recovery, it’s strange. Damien doesn’t seem to react much, he nods, asks questions and tells Dadsona how amazing he is to have overcome so much, but it wasn’t the reaction Dadsona was used to.

Of course, Damien is emotional on the inside, there’s a lot whirling around his head but right now he wants to prioritise Dadsona, he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so he remains as calm as he can. Afterwards, with permission, he holds Dadsona for a long time, grateful for the man in front of him.

Damien has had his own body issues, like Joseph it’s something he and Dadsona bond over only they talk more of the recovery, what it’s like to begin to feel like themselves again and the feeling of being more than the things doctors labelled them as. They can talk, cry and joke at length about the things they’ve been put through to get to where they are now and never have to worry about being judged.

At first, he didn’t have a lot of understanding on anorexia, of course, he knew of it, but he put in the research to help him better understand what Dadsona needs in a partner. He likes to encourage Dadsona to help him tend the garden. It’s something simple and stress relieving they can do together and helps take Dadsona’s mind off of things, especially when it’s time to rip up weeds.

Both:

They both understand that a big trigger of eating disorders is a lack of control. They’re not the type to try and force a routine, schedule and diet on Dadsona. How Dadsona chooses to recover is up to him, they accept that and are ready to help however Dadsona needs them to.

They like to hold Dadsona when he’s comfortable with it and tell him how amazing he is. They list the endless reasons they love him and tell him how handsome he is. Especially, in bed, cuddling up together and whispering sweet nothings after a long day is a favourite way for them to comfort and shower Dadsona with affection.

They understand this is private; they’d never tell anyone or want to overstep boundaries. They will occasionally want to come along to appointments even if it just to sit outside in the waiting room if Dadsona is okay with it. It’s not to pry, it’s to understand it comes from a place of love, they know these checkups can be hard and even devastating if recovery isn’t going a quick as Dadsona expected, so they want to be able to be there to comfort him afterwards. They also want to be able to celebrate with him if he’s hit a milestone.

[nek0m4ncer]

undefined

joseph_romance.mp4

[ddaddsprompts]

Omega-Dadsona get snapped at by an Alpha leaving them in tears, how do (dads) react?

Omegaverse au! how would the dads react to a threatening alpha making the dadsona uncomfortable??

I-I know the ask box is closed, b-but I wanted to send this before I forgot… Dads being cutely overly protective over pregnant dadsona? (I read both your ones with pregnant dadsona and I just really wanted to know…)

how do you think the dads of the neighbor would be with dear dadsona with a baby? (mpreg or omegaverse really) I just like the dads with more emotion than what they had in the game (they had a lot, is it wrong to ask for more?) 

Despite the topic of this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing it and trying to imagine how the individual Dads would react! And I got to write Omegaverse, which I, as you know, love. Please be adviced that what the Alpha says and does can be counted as (sexual) assault. They’re implying some very nasty things, but no actual non-consensual things happen. Also, obviously, there’s mpreg. That being said, I still hope you’ll enjoy! - Mod Mare

Never in your life would you have thought goingshopping for baby clothes would be something you’d miss, but standing in theaisle and comparing two different onesies, you find yourself feeling just that.It’s been so long since you and Alex had gone to a shop just like this one,preparing for Amanda’s arrival. You look up, over to where [Dad] is standing,entranced by the various cribs and crib mobiles, and smile, your hand on yourbelly. It’s barely swollen and you know there’s no conscious life in there yet,at least not the kind that had the capacity to think, but still, you imaginethe baby feeling you. You’re so lost in thoughts, you don’t notice someone’sapproaching you until they’re standing right behind you – far too close forcomfort. 

It’s not their proximity you first become aware of, but their scent.It’s sharp, biting, nearly makes you gag because of the aggression and… arousalin it.

“Look at you,” the Alpha rumbles. “Pregnant andout alone. The whole place’s smelling like you. What kind of Alpha lets theirOmega out like that? Don’t they know how-“ They lean in closer, you can feeltheir breath on your neck, and it makes you shiver in fear. “-just howdelicious you smell?”

“I’m not alone,” you stutter out. You try totwist away, but the Alpha puts their hands on either side of you, trapping youin front of them. “My Alpha’s here, he-“

“What kind of Alpha is he that he doesn’t lockyou up? Keep you safe. No good Alpha, if you ask me. I think I’m going to takeyou home, keep you inside, where you belong, get rid of his pups and fill youwith mine—“

You scream [Dad]’s name.

🥃 Robert’s there in a second,even though it shouldn’t be possible, him having been on the opposite site ofthe store a moment ago. Not that you care about things like physics and speed,not with him forming a protective barrier, keeping you shielded with his body.You don’t need to see his face to know he’s snarling. “I’m giving you fiveseconds to get the fuck away from my Omega,” Robert growls. “Then you’re goingto stay away from us and if you, out of whatever reason, decide not to comply,I’m going to introduce you to some friends of mine.” He moves – you can see himmove his jacket aside, probably to show the plethora of knives he hides there –and a second later, the Alpha all but flees, running out of the store. Robertwaits, tense, until he can’t see them anymore, before he whirls around andpulls you close, burying his face in your neck. His hand covers yours on yourbelly and he takes deep, deliberate breaths, as if he’s forcefully calminghimself down. “I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he whispers out betweengritted teeth. Carefully, you pull your hand out from under his and wrap yourarms around him. “I’m okay, Robert. It’s not your fault.” Robert takes ashuddered breath and relaxes against you.

🍸 “Excuse me,” Joseph says,suddenly next to you as if he’d been there the whole time. “Get away from him.There is no reason to behave like that, can’t you see you’re making himuncomfortable?” The sharp, dangerous undertone to Joseph’s voice is one younever heard before. He firmly grips the Alpha’s arm and, with strength thatcomes from years operating a yacht, pushes them away from you. He shoots you aworried and concerned look, but you shake your head, and step behind himinstinctually. Joseph turns his head toward the Alpha again. “I don’t know whoyou are or why you think being an Alpha gives you the right to assault people,but frankly, I don’t care. What I care about,” Joseph says, dropping all pretenceof being civil, “is that you never do that again. Not to my Omega, not toanyone else.”

“What are you going to do about it, Pinky?” The Alpha sneers. Joseph stepsforward, going nose-to-nose. “I’m going to report you to the authorities. Thereare cameras here. Witnesses. And the Lord has no mercy for people like you.”Then, suddenly, Joseph’s posture changes again. “Have a blessed day,” he says,with so much venom you’re surprised the Alpha doesn’t fall over dead. Once theyleft, Joseph turns to you and wraps his arms around you. “I’m so sorry thishappened to you, I should have interfered sooner.” You shake your head and restyour chin on his shoulder, still shaken.

☕ “H-hey!” The Alpha’s brief moment of surprise is enough for you toslip free and run. You’re working on pure,raw instinct and that leads you right into Mat’s arms, to the source of thesweet scent of caffeine that’s unique to him. Mat wraps his arms around youprotectively and leads your head to rest on his shoulder, face turned away fromthe Alpha. The commotion is enough to alert the staff. Someone is blocking thedoor, another one, you hear, is calling the police. Mat makes you take a stepbackwards. The growl you hear doesn’t come from him, but the other Alpha. “Stayaway, man. You don’t want to make this worse. The police’s on the way.” Had Mat’svoice been shaky before, he’s unwavering now, a solid rock.

“Fuck you and your wh-“

“If I were you,” Mat says. He’s gone tenseagainst you. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence.”

Thankfully, before things get out of control,the police arrive. They make you give your statement, before they drag theAlpha away, who is cussing the whole time. Only when the door of the police carslams close does Mat relax – he practically deflates. “Shit, Y/N, are youalright? Let me get you home. That must have been a shock. I mean, obviously, Imean, they were, I don’t know what they said but you looked scared and yourscent and-“

“Mat,” you gently interrupt him. You look up andtry to smile reassuringly. “Take me home, my Knight in shining armour.” Matbreaks into a smile and nods. The adrenaline only fully leaves him when you’rein the safety of your home, but you’re more than glad to cuddle with him as hecalms down again.

🌹 “Please step away from my Omega.” The Alpha,thank god, releases you and turns around to face Damien. They start smirking. “That’syour Alpha? That clown?”

“Hey, don’t you-“ The Alpha reaches outand grips your chin roughly. “Shut up. Be a good Omega and keep quiet-“

“I believe that’s enough now.” With asurprising strength for someone so thin as him, Damien pulls the Alpha’s handoff you and forces distance between you and them. He keeps the arm in a firm,and apparently painful, grip. “That is no way to behave. Y/N made it quiteclear he has no interest in you. I suggest you take your leave. I am a patientman, but even my patience knows its limits, and you are close to pushing meover that threshold. Not only did you threaten my bonded, you also threatenedmy child. In the not so distant past, it would have been well within my rightto retaliate physically and I’m sure the police would understand where I’d comefrom, were I to lose my temper. However, I am a gentleman, and as such, I won’t.”He lets go of the Alpha’s arm. “Kindly leave. Before I change my mind.” Aftershooting you and Damien a last angry look, the Alpha harrumphs and storms outof the store. Damien releases a long breath and turns around, cupping yourface. “Are you alright, things considered?” Hesitantly, you nod. Damien smilesand leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s go home. We can resume our shoppinganother day.”

🎣 The pressure behind you isgone as fast as it came. Confused, you turn around- and see Brian holding upthe Alpha by their shirt, their feet dangling a good distance above the floor.Brian looks like his usual, cheery self, but you know him well enough to seethe anger in his eyes. He meets your gaze and raises an eyebrow. Once you nod,he turns his attention back to the Alpha, who is struggling, but to no avail. “Ireally want to throw you through the glass front of this store, my friend,” hesays, the last word laced with pure hatred and barely constrained fury. “Orinto this crib. Solid wood. It would break, sure, but it’d hurt like hell. Butit’s too good a craftsmanship to do that.”

“Let me go, you-!”

Brian readjusts his grip and brings the Alpha close to his face. He barelybares his teeth, but its enough to make the Alpha shut up immediately. “I hope,for you and whatever object happens to be near in that moment, that I neverhave to see you again. I don’t know if I can restrain myself twice. I’dgleefully snap you in half.” He drops the Alpha, who lands on their butt with ayelp. They scramble to their feet and run so fast, they almost stumble. You’restill watching them, rounding the corner, when strong arms engulf you. Brian’sscent wraps around you, rises in your nose, and you relax. “It’s all going tobe okay, Y/N,” he whispers, cradling your head in his massive paw. “I won’tever let something like that happen again.”

👟 “Hey! Let go of him!” At thesound of Craig’s voice, the Alpha turns their head. They open their mouth tosay something, but whatever that something is, it dies on their tongue as theysee Craig, in all his muscular – and very angry – glory. Immediately, the Alphareleases you. Not going to let such a chance go to waste, you run behind Craigfor protection. Craig reaches back to take your hand and squeeze it, but helets go again, in favour of stalking forward, purposely making his musclesbulge. The Alpha stumbles backwards. “H-hey man, I didn’t realise he was yours,I wouldn’t have-“

“So, just because I’m big and stronger than you suddenly changed your mind?What if I wasn’t? Would you try to steal him, like he’s some kind of property?”Craig sounds pissed. You’ve never seen him so angry before. “What if he’d beenalone? Would you have dragged him away? What kind of fucked up, twisted logicis that, bro?” He pulls the Alpha close by their collar and stares right downat them. “You shouldn’t apologise to me. Not like that. You should apologise toY/N, but I won’t subject him to having to deal with you any longer.” Craigbares his teeth. “Get lost, asshole.” He doesn’t need to say it twice. Themoment Craig releases them, the Alpha runs away. Craig waits until they’regone, unmoving, before he turns and hurries over to you. “Bro, are you okay?Did they hurt you? Are you-“

You cup his face and bring your foreheads together. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”Craig lets out a shaky breath and covers your hands with his.

📖 It all happens so fast, you’resure that, had you blinked, you would have missed it. There’s a blur of yellow,a grunt, and suddenly you’re free again. You turn and back away, before yourealise that the Alpha is no longer a danger – Hugo’s got him pinned. No matterhow much the Alpha struggles, Hugo is unrelenting. In the struggle, his hairtie must have slipped off, because his hair is open now and he’s slightlydishevelled, but still looking so calm and composed, you can’t help but relax.Everything’s under control now. “Did someone already call the police?” Hugoasks. He tightens his grip as the Alpha tries to kick him and makes them howlin pain. One of the clerks answers in affirmative and indeed, the police showsup moments later – a pregnant Omega being threatened by another Alpha alwaysposed the risk of the parent-to-be going feral, and wouldn’t that be a greatheadline? Once the police take over, Hugo releases the Alpha and strides overto you with big steps, pulling you into his arms. “Are you alright?” Face smoochedagainst his chest, you nod, feeling your body slowly stop shivering. Hugokisses the top of your head. The hand rubbing your back is slightly trembling. “Thatwas kind of cool,” you say. He pulls away to look at you in surprise, before heblushes. “Ah.” Hugo pushes up his glasses, looking sheepish. “I always wantedto try that out.” Despite the situation, you chuckle and pull him back into ahug.

[damien-orion-bloodmarch-blog]

oh dear, damien that's a lot of wine. are you feeling alright?

“Better than *hic* ever!”

He stood up on his couch passionately but could suddenly feel his feet shift beneath him as he fell to the ground, thankfully on his carpet.

[matstellar-blog]

Achievement Unlocked: Thirstiest Daddy

[dream-daddy-imagines]

Major Trigger Warnings: School Shootings, Death. VERY DEPRESSING.

Challenge: Put on some sad instrumental music while you read this.

…

Ernest was sitting boredly in his dad’s class. He usually skips other classes, but if he skipped his own father’s class he’d be doomed. While Ernest was fiddling with his pencil, a loud bang was heard through the school and Hugo stopped talking immediately. The class went silent.

“What the hell was that…” Hugo whispered to himself.

“Mr. Vega? What was that?” A student asked him.

He gestured them to remain quiet for a little longer, and the bangs sounded again. Twice that time. 

“Get into the corner of the classroom, on the wall where the door is but on the opposite corner!” Hugo demanded, and the students left their things and immediately did as told. Hugo turned off the lights, covered the door with a black sheet of paper, and sat by his students. He specifically sat by Ernest.

“…Dad, what’s-” Ernest was shushed by Hugo and he rolled his eyes. 

Hugo continued to keep a close eye on the door. Ernest realized that he left his Phone at his desk, and quietly went to go get it. He never listened during the emergency drills. Hugo tried to grab him, but he didn’t reach in time. The doorknob to the classroom jiggled, and Ernest froze. A bullet flew through the hole where the door knob used to be, and the door knob fell out of place. The door slammed open and a man with a black mask pointed his gun in.

Ernest stared at him, he could feel the tears developing in his eyes. The students gasped and stayed completely silent, some began to cry. The gun now pointed at Ernest, and the man went for the trigger.

“DAD!” Ernest cried out and covered his face.

Hugo jolted up and jumped in front of Ernest. Ernest was brought down by something heavy. Suddenly… Ernest could feel something wet and warm on him. Ernest went to push the thing off of him, and the rest of the students stared in fear at his situation. When he saw what he was under he scrambled away in horror. His father laid there before him with a hole in his chest. Ernest choked on his breath as he reached for his dad’s glasses which fell off of his face and cracked on the ground. He held them tightly in his hands, the broken glass cutting his hand open causing blood to trickle down his wrist.

Police came in and tackled the shooter to the ground, cuffing him and taking him out of the school. Officers came into the room and directed the students out safely, one of them in particular had to stay to get Ernest.

“Kid, come on-”

“NO! I CAN’T LEAVE HIM! MY DAD!” He cried out, shoving the officer away.

Ernest went to Hugo to see if he was still alive, and immediately started breaking down. Tears flowed from his eyes as he knelt over his dead father’s body. The officer frowned, but went back over to him. They pat his shoulder, but their hand was smacked away.

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me! Leave me alone!” Ernest yelled. 

“Kid, I get it, but we need to get out of the school-”

“I’m not leaving him!”

Some paramedics ran into the room with a stretcher and lifted Hugo’s body onto it. They rushed to get him out of the room, and Ernest began to yell again.

“NO! DAD,” his voice cracked between his sobs, and his voice turned into a quiet whisper, “Dad… Dad… I love you…” he hung his head and cried.

The officer managed to get him to stand up, and walked him out of the building. His hands were bandaged up by the officer who directed him out, and seeing as Hugo didn’t have a ride home, they took him home. While they were driving, the officer asked him a few questions.

“So, who’s at home with you?” 

Ernest remained silent.

“Kid, I can’t take you to an empty house,” they pulled the car over so they could get a valid answer from him.

“… I have a mastiff at home. That should be good enough,” 

“A dog?”

“A big dog. I’ll be fine with her,” Ernest crossed his arms, “I can just call my other dad later.”

They sighed and started driving again, they had no choice but to believe him. They arrived and Ernest just stepped out of the car, trudging inside and slamming the door behind him. He fell to the ground and began hysterically crying. Duchess walked over to him and sat by him. Ernest looked at Duchess, and hugged her, crying into her coat.

“Duchess… Duchess… Dad’s gone… Dad’s gone Duchess!” he cried.

Duchess didn’t know what was going on, but she instinctively laid her head on Ernest’s shoulder. This caused Ernest to hold Duchess tighter and sob more. Minutes of crying felt like hours, the hours that passed without his dad felt like days.

It was 7 PM, Hugo usually comes home then. Ernest was laying down on the couch crying and eating Pizza Rolls, and Duchess went over to the door in excitement. Her tail was wagging. She sat there for a good 30 minutes, and she started frantically walking around the living room. Ernest watched her go to the door, and start crying. She howled and barked at the door for Hugo. She knew something was wrong. Duchess’s cries got to Ernest and he started bawling again.

They both knew he was late, but only one of them knew he wasn’t going to come back. Minutes passed, and Ernest was still in mourning.  Duchess was laying on the ground in front of the door sadly, staring and waiting for Hugo to return. Ernest’s mind raced, “he shouldn’t have tried to save me”, “I shouldn’t have gotten up”, “I should have listened during the drills”, “why did I treat him like shit”…

“Why didn’t I ever tell him I loved him when he was actually alive…” Ernest sobbed into a pillow, and he heard the door knock.

Ernest let them keep knocking as Duchess barked. She knew it wasn’t Hugo because he wouldn’t have to knock. They knocked harder, harder, and harder until Ernest gave in and went to go answer it.

“What do you want?” Ernest grumbled, his voice cracked slightly from the held back tears.

“Ernest?” his other dad stood in front of him.

“D-dad? What the f- I… what do you want?” 

“I came to take you to go see Hugo, in the hospital-”

“Oh fuck,” Ernest thought to himself.

“Right… yeah,” Ernest said.

All three of them got into the car to hurry and see if Hugo was okay. It was a silent drive, Ernest stared at the window. He was begging for his accusations to be wrong. He was hoping on everything that his dad was somehow alive. He couldn’t lose him, he at least wanted him to be alive just for a moment, just so he could say “I love you”. 

Ernest’s dad spoke up, clearing his throat, “Son?…”

“What?”

“… I’m taking you to see him, but…” his voice trailed off sadly.

“But what?” Ernest growled.

“He might not make it, Ernest!” his dad said snapped at him, looking away quickly after. 

“What,” he clenched his fists, shook his head and grabbed onto his hair, “This has to be a dream, please, this has to fucking be a dream!” he tugged roughly at his hair and cried, “WAKE UP!”

“Ernest! Cut that crap!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Ernest yelled between his sobs.

“Ernest-”

Duchess started whining in the back seat, trying to scramble to the front. She couldn’t because she was too big. Ernest was bawling, and Duchess began howling. His dad pulled over so they didn’t crash, and he tried comforting Ernest. He was pushed away.

“Why do you even care?! You divorced him!”

“Ernest, I’ve-”

“You haven’t talked to him or visited him in years! Why do you expect me to think you actually cared about him!? You lost probably the best thing you’d ever get! You don’t even deserve to see him!” Ernest yelled at him while crying.

“ERNEST! I… ugh!” he shook his head and stepped outside the car, allowing Duchess and Ernest to calm down. 

When Duchess stopped whining and Ernest wasn’t crying too badly, he got back into the car. 

“After this visit, I’m taking you both to stay at my house, alright?” 

No response from Ernest. He was too busy thinking to himself that his dad was dead. His dad, he was an asshole to, was dead. While he was only told “might not survive”, that is never good news. He was still praying that it was a dream. None of it was a dream.

…

They got to the hospital, and the three of them went to the room Hugo laid in. His dad walked straight in, but Ernest just peeked. He saw Hugo hooked up to all the machines, he saw the blood pack, and he saw the slowly beeping cardiac monitor, and he started to cry. He fell down the wall onto the hallway floors. Duchess sat with him, until a weak voice called out.

“Ernest… Please, come in…”

Ernest’s eyes shot open and he looked at the door frame. He stood up and looked in. Hugo’s eyes were open, he was alive. Without thought, Ernest ran into the room and went to hug his favorite dad. He laid his head on Hugo’s shoulder. 

“Dad! You’re alive! I-I’ve been worried so much…” Ernest cried into his shoulder and nuzzled up against him.

Hugo smiled softly and raised his hand, petting Ernest’s head. 

“Dad… I love you,” Ernest spoke softly.

Hugo pressed his face against the top of Ernest’s head, giving him a caring kiss. His head slowly fell back into his pillow, “I… love you too… Ernes..t.”

Suddenly, his hand dropped from Ernest’s head. The monitor’s beeps turned into a blank noise, and Ernest was ripped off of Hugo. 

“What are you doing?! Dad! Dad!!” Ernest struggled.

“We need you off and away from your father, we need to do chest compressions.”

“What? No! He’s alive!” Ernest freed himself from the doctors, only to get stopped by his least favorite dad.

“Come on, let them do what they need to do, they’re professionals!” he dragged Ernest out, Duchess followed them with.

“No! He’s alive! He’s not dead! Please!” Ernest cried.

Hugo never woke up, and was declared dead soon after the monitor flatlined. 

…

A week passed, and Ernest and Duchess were struggling to get by. Lucien came over now and then and brought over fast food, and comfort. Lucien was Ernest’s biggest shoulder to cry on, and the only one aside from Duchess. Lucien gladly took allergy medicine for his dog allergy to be able to be there for Ernest. The week after Hugo’s death was his visitation.

“Ernest? Come on, let’s go…” his dad said.

Ernest wouldn’t budge, “I’m not going without Duchess… She has to come with me.” 

“Ernest, she’ll just bark at everybody! She’s huge, look at her!” 

“She’s the only emotional support I’ll have besides Lucien! She needs to be with me!” Ernest argued and held on tightly to Duchess’s leash.

His dad sighed and looked at Duchess. She looked worried, and she might cause a ruckus if she was home alone. With the fact that she might try to go out and find them herself, so he had no choice but to let her come with. He drove Ernest and Duchess to the funeral home where Joseph was hosting the visitation.

Joseph lead Ernest, his dad, and Duchess in, not speaking a word. The coffin where Hugo rested was down the isle. Ernest took a seat impatiently. He didn’t mind attending the funeral, but he wanted to talk. He wanted to tell Hugo so many things. Preferably, when he was alive. What hurt Ernest the most is that his death was what caused him to finally start openly caring. He cared, he cares. He loved his dad, he loves his dad. Lucien and Damien sat by him for comfort, they’re like second family to him. Damien was more of a father to Ernest than his other biological father.

Ernest was glad he could tell him he loved him in person, and he was glad he got the same words back, but he had so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize for everything he put him through. People took their turns saying their words, Ernest was growing impatient as the minutes went by. There was still a long line of people who wanted to say something, so Ernest just ran out of his seat and to his dad.

“Ernest?” Joseph went to touch his shoulder sympathetically, but was yelled at. 

“I’m not going to wait a thousand years just for your stupid ceremony for everybody to get to say something! I’m his son! I should have had first say anyways!” Ernest lashed verbally, “I don’t even want an entire ceremony like this! I’m sorry if it’s your tradition, but it’s not dad’s! It’s not mine… I just want a moment… alone…”

Everyone stared at Ernest in shock, but also in sympathy. They understood why he would want to have the moment alone, but a good few found it disrespectful. Except Joseph. He frowned and nodded. Ernest’s dad stood from his seat and went to grab Ernest, but was stopped by Joseph.

“Let him feel, Mr… Vega.” Joseph spoke sternly.

“His behavior-”

“Is to be expected from a young person in mourning. Please take a seat, and don’t punish somebody for having feelings.” Joseph glared at him.

The crowd grew silent, and he went back to sit. Joseph cleared his throat and went over to Ernest himself.

“Ernest… I’ll give you all the time in the world after the others say some words of remembrance,” he walked over to him and gave him a small pat on the shoulder, “You can take as long as you need, you won’t have to wait for much longer.”

Ernest looked at Joseph reluctantly and looked down, following him as he lead him away. He stood with Joseph and Duchess until everybody was done reminiscing about Hugo. Ernest tried to cancel out the talking and the noise, he was thinking about what he was going to say, he wondered if there was a chance his beloved dad would be able to hear him.

Everyone left, and Ernest’s lesser dad waited outside of the funeral home as instructed by Joseph. Lucien and Damien stayed by Ernest’s request.

Joseph pat Ernest’s shoulders and looked down at him, “Say anything you’d like to say… You have all the time in the world.”

Ernest slowly walked over to Hugo’s coffin and stared at him. His arms were crossed on his chest and his eyes were closed. Ernest went closer to the coffin and fell to his knees, crossing his arms on the coffin, looking at his dad.

“Dad… I feel bad. I feel like… you shouldn’t have protected me. I feel to blame… I…” he hid his face in his arms and continued, “I should have listened to you during the drills, I should have never gotten up, my phone is worth way less than your life…” Ernest wiped his face and looked up at Hugo again, “Dad… I was a… a dick to you. I shouldn’t have been… I-I… You just wanted what was best for me… You wanted to make sure I was happy…” Ernest’s voice cracked and he hid his face again, “God- sorry Joseph.”

“You’re fine… Go on,” Joseph spoke softly.

Ernest nodded, “I was an idiot. I was… I was a shit kid, you deserved way better than me… I can’t believe how stupid I am, it took your death to make me realize you cared about me. You still put up with me even if I set fire to people’s trash cans, or got detention in school, or…” Ernest shook his head, “I-I’ve always cared but, I… I don’t know why I never expressed it… I’m sorry, dad-… I love you… I-I…” Ernest teared up and began sobbing, between his sobs he softly said “I miss you, dad…”

Ernest cried against the coffin by his father, he felt oddly safe and secure in the current situation. Damien was wiping his face with a napkin, and Lucien just let the tears flow silently. Joseph only listened as he looked down at his feet, but he looked up at him. He swore he could see Hugo’s spirit hugging Ernest as he sobbed against him, making him feel safe and comforted. Duchess walked over to Ernest and laid by his feet. All Joseph could see now was a comforting family. 

Lucien walked over to Ernest and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. Ernest cried into Lucien’s shoulder, and Lucien sniffled a bit. 

“Come on… Let’s go to my house… Okay dude?” Lucien grabbed Ernest’s shoulders and looked at him.

Ernest looked at Lucien with his tear-filled eyes and nodded. Joseph walked out with Damien, the kids, and Duchess. Ernest kept walking even when they passed his dad. 

“Ernest, where are you going?” he asked.

“To Lucien’s,” Ernest said and continued walking.

Before he could reply, they piled into Damien’s car and drove off. Ernest stayed the night at Lucien’s and Damien made them all a lot of comfort food, soothing tea and even the pizza rolls Ernest loves. Ernest sat with Lucien while he cried, and Duchess laid by their feet just to be there. After Ernest ran out of tears, they all talked about Hugo and how great of a person he was for hours. Ernest fell asleep on the couch next to Lucien, and the night passed.

…

The very next day came his funeral, held at Damien’s favorite graveyard. All four of them got ready and emotionally prepared, Ernest was no where near prepared, but he wouldn’t miss his funeral for the world. They all drove to the graveyard, where Hugo’s coffin was above a specifically-shaped hole, waiting to be lowered down. The coffin was closed this time. When everyone arrived, Joseph stepped up to them all. Everyone close to Hugo and their kids were around his coffin, all the dads in the cul de sac and some staff from the school talked quietly together. Ernest’s other dad didn’t show. Joseph stepped forward and began to speak.

“Good afternoon… Thank you all so much for attending Hugo Vega’s funeral… I know he was a very good man… Smart, mature, he certainly was a passionate teacher… Dedicated to learning more anytime he can, and dedicated to helping his students learn effectively and take the right path. He certainly knew far more than any average man, that’s for sure…” Joseph sighed as he spoke, “It’s unfortunate he won’t be able to teach anymore or learn anymore. This loss is tragic for the students, and us, his family and dearest friends,” he gestures to all of them, “His death was not in vain, he died knowing he protected his son, and he died knowing that he was loved by his son… I’m sure that meant the world to him… Ernest, you’ve already said all you could say to Hugo, but would you like to maybe… say a few words to all of us? If you don’t mind, of course.”

Ernest looked up at Joseph and around at everyone, he sighed and took a step ahead of where he stood, “Yeah-yeah,” he cleared his throat, and began to speak, “I was never… great to my dad. I rebelled and I was a… a delinquent, I put him through a lot of stress… I’ve never realized that until I lost what good I had. I feel like it’s almost my fault, because if I cared more and I listened to him during school drills, I wouldn’t have made the mistake of getting up… He wouldn’t have had to die.”

“Ernest… We all make mistakes-” Mat said sadly, but was immediately cut off.

“No, I made a mistake… a big one… one that could have easily been prevented if I just listened in the past. If I just knew never to get up during a life threatening emergency, he wouldn’t have had to take his life for mine… All my refusal to listen to the rules caused this,” Ernest looked down at the coffin with sad eyes, “It’s my fault. But, I’m going to change… I’ll stop being destructive and I’ll stop skipping classes. It’s what my dad would have wanted for me… I’m going to start doing what my dad always tried to lead me to do…” Ernest stepped back and looked at his feet, he pet Duchess beside him.

Hugo’s coffin was lowered into his grave, and everybody left flowers. A whole variety of unique and beautiful flowers, representing the many things that Hugo meant to them all. Ernest stepped up the gravestone and read it, “Hugo Vega, the teacher who kept on learning”. 

Ernest kneeled down to the gravestone and hugged it, “I love you dad… I’ll miss you all the time.” 

He let go of the gravestone and pulled something out from his pocket. It was a childhood drawing he did of he and Hugo inside of a glass bottle. He placed it under all of the flowers and stood up. Backing away from the grave to get a far away look from it. He wiped his eyes and looked at Damien, Lucien and Duchess. Damien took them back to his house and Ernest continued to spend nights there.

…

Eventually, Damien and Ernest had gone over to Ernest’s old house and packed up all of the valuable items. They carefully packaged every one of Hugo’s old wrestling merchandise, all of his books, all of his paintings, everything. Nothing belonging to Hugo was left behind. Ernest packed his clothing into a suitcase and his bed sheets while Damien packaged Hugo’s clothes and his bedding into another box for safe keeping.

Damien looked at Ernest and smiled, “I’ve got every one of Hugo’s things… what about you?”

“I have all my things, clothes, whatever,” Ernest looked up at him. 

Lucien walked in to help them carry everything into a moving van. Damien drove it home while Lucien and Ernest hung out in the back. When they got back to the Bloodmarch household, Duchess greeted them happily. They unloaded everything from the truck and unpacked Ernest’s things. Ernest began redecorating one of the spare bedrooms, which was no longer a spare. The boxes of Hugo’s stuff was kept in the closet for safe keeping. With the great Duchess around the house, Lucien has to take stronger medicine for his allergy, but he assures Damien that it’s completely alright. 

Ernest went downstairs after setting things up the way he wanted them to be, and he went over to Damien. 

Damien smiled at him softly and said, “Welcome home, son.”

…

Author’s Note: Do you know how many times I fucking cried while writing this? Too many. It hurts. The PAIN. You’d think you’re numb by now, but NO. IT NEVER ENDS. THE PAIN NEVER ENDS.

I also apologize if I got any facts of like, hospitals or funerals or visitations wrong! I did my best to do research and Mod Pablo did his best to help me understand them as well! Shout-out to you Pabloooo~

Yes, Damien does adopt Ernest away from his other dad. Not Hugo. Hugo is good dad. Other dad (I wanted people to hate him– i’m sorry if in game he was specified to act a different way). I felt like it would be more uplifting for them all in the end after a sad series of events.

Most importantly, please don’t hate me :) ~Mod Hugo

[jarnes]

Craig Cahn

Dad of three, business entrepreneur, and fitness enthusiast. Juggling work, family, and fitness is a though gig, but someone’s gotta do it!

[myisolatedfantasy]

So lets re-fucking cap; Jack’s first anti vid went up He missed the second one Ethan uploaded a weird video Dan and phil uploaded the first DDADDS vid Mark uploaded a weird video AND NOW BILL FUCKING WURTZ UPLOADS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING

[colonelrogers]

Would you save him, or just let him die? 

[petergriffinhateblog-blog]

Your bringing up the DDADDS dads raises a good question. Should dad ratings be influenced by the ethicality of the media they exist in? Like DDADDS is nothing more than a game designed to make money off of people who don't know better, for straight cis YouTubers to laugh at and play because it's ~weird~, and for the Game Grumps to (falsely) claim that they aren't racist or homophobic because they took part in a game with a lot of representation. So should that affect the dads' ratings?

this question has multiple points i need to address:

1) please be careful about the tone you use when addressing media that others on this site watch/enjoy. while i agree with you that the game grumps are flawed people and have QUITE a list of problems they need to address, i don’t agree with wording it in such a way that those who watch the content feel guilty for doing so. (especially today of all days..........)

2) ddadds is a flawed game as well, but it was half made by a “queer gal” (self identified as such, those are her words) as queer representation. the discourse that was in the series- the “demon ending” with joseph, isn’t even.. in the game (yet). it’s in the coding, and i think it was in development to be Possibly a halloween ending- which would explain the whole “demon” thing in the first place.

anyway the actual content isnt important, what i meant to say there is that it wasn’t made by Just Cis Het Males, it was made by a member of the LGBTA community. flawed or not, don’t erase that she was like ~50% of the work in this- game grumps, as far as i know, contributed voice acting, pay rolls, and marketing, and not the actual writing. think what you want about the game, but don’t erase that the flaws included were due to more than just Cis Het White Men.

3 AND MOST IMPORTANTLY) i believe in separating the author from the work. i don’t personally know justin roiland (rick and morty), butch hartman (fairly odd parents), akira toriyama (dragon ball z), etc, and i don’t think it’s fair to judge the ddadds based on the creators behind them when i can’t do the same for every other character. i entirely skews the system, so i am judging based off the media itself and what knowledge is readily available within it to keep it even.

also... despite what the game was made for, the dads are still pretty good dads. it being a dating sim or Made For The Views doesn’t change that the dads involved still seem to be good parents for the most part.

[doccywhomst]

Modern Gallifreyan Alphabet

So! In "The Deadly Assassin" (a Classic Who episode, series 14 serial 3), the Fourth Doctor sends a message to the Time Lords in Modern Gallifreyan:

This might be the only example of it ever used on the show, but I couldn't resist the challenge to try my hand at creating a similar script! The letter was read aloud, and it says this:

"To the Castellan of the Chancery Guard: I've good reason to think the life of His Supremacy the President is in grave danger. Do not ignore this warning. The Doctor."

I copied down the letter as best I could and isolated some common elements of the script (there are some errors and generalizations, I know).

From this, I built an alphabet with similar symbols and elements. I recreated the letter using the alphabet (which is NOT supposed to look exactly the same!), just to see how it would look. I didn't use the double letters this time around:

I like it! A bit stilted and clean, but as I ease into the alphabet with practice, it'll start looking more flowy and natural, and it'll probably change somewhat as I write faster.

For curiosity's sake, I approximated a new translation of the real letter using my alphabet, and it's hilarious:

"Ttiss jelia caamddia dddrdde jdixeia oxze jiapd: ajied rrtteawam ddsrs fada cehn sasas xra ralhen jjllnn(?) rsent 5010 hid tad ff orcei ct zlbe jars ps ddadd 101... !deasswa gifoae addae waa(?) rs fada."

Sidenote: I might change the letters O, K, and V because they don't compare to any particular symbol from the text... we'll see.

[pixelsandpins]

I did more Dream Daddy fanfiction because I have to write ALL THE DADS, now. 

A Year Later: Craig

Dadsona/Craig

Mature Teen?, Mostly Fluff

Words: 4468

I close my eyes and step on the scale. I open them and look down.

"Hot damn!"

"What's up, pops?" Amanda asks from her room. She's only been back from school a few days, and it already feels like old times.

"Somehow, through some small miracle, I'm back to my college weight."

"Ugh, can we not talk about college weight? I have one working pair of pants."

"I told you what that cafeteria food would do to you, panda. A couple visits to the gym with us will probably get rid of that freshman fifteen." I step down off the scale and try to catch Amanda's eye in the bathroom mirror through the slightly open door. She's too busy FaceSpacing or Twitjournaling or some other portmanteau of two social media sites that make me sound like the old man I am.

"I'm perfectly happy with my nacho and pop-tart diet for the time-being, but don't let me stop you, my dude." She throws a peace sign up at me as I pass by her door, and I stick my tongue out at her. She'll learn soon enough. Youth is wasted on the young.

Craig greets me warmly when I find him near the ellipticals. River's gotten too big for the chest carrier, so she's started going to daycare. That means there's nothing between us when his arms come around me in a lingering hug. There's a lightning quick squeeze on the tush thrown in for good measure. The first month or so, I had thought it was just the change from  platonic to romantic that had made Craig's shows of affection so weird and squirrely. Turns out with him it's all about the space. Right place, right time, he can't keep his hands to himself. The gym is the one in-between place. Fortunate considering how little time we get just the two of us during the week.

"Good morning, babe," he says quietly into my ear before pulling away. "Leg day, bro. You ready?"

"I love leg day!"

I actually hate leg day, but my god my butt looks amazing afterward.

Craig takes the nearest machine, and cranks the resistance up a couple of notches. I take the one next to him, and don't touch the knob. After a year, I'm still not at Craig level cardio capabilities.

"So I was reminded of something the other day that I had kinda forgotten, and now I feel a little guilty about it," he says after a moment or two.

"What's that?" I pant in response.

"Do you remember Christina Schroeder?"

I search through my internal rolodex. It's not ringing a bell, and I say as much. "She was friends with Ashley? Really short? Poly-sci major? Insanely good at flip cup?"

"OH!" I remember. "Tipsy Tina?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Our nicknames weren't very inspired back in the day, were they?"

"I think we managed to do pretty well considering our theme."

He smiles that half smile that turns my insides to pudding.

"Anyway," he continues, "I don't know if you ever knew this, but she had a humongous crush on you. Like she was majorly in love with you."

"O-oh?" I don't remember her well enough to feel one way or the other about this information.

"Well, Ashley told me I should try to hook you up, so she said we should all go on a double date. But, you know, I didn't want you to feel on the spot, so I had the idea that I would just invite you to go to something with us, but not tell you Tina was gonna be there, too."

"Okay?" I know my brow is crinkling trying to figure out where this is going.

"Yeah. Um. Do you remember that movie thing we were going to go to, but we ended up not because I got food poisoning from something at the make-your-own-pizza place?"

"Oh my god yes. You were throwing up for, like, 2 days. Shit, was that supposed to be the double date?"

"Yeah. Yeah it was. And I remembered, and I felt bad about it, and...I don't know."

"Dude, you shouldn't feel bad about cancelling a double date because you were sick."

"There's more." He starts to slow a little bit on the machine, looking down at the timer with an unsure frown. "I told the girls that you were the one who was sick, and I was taking care of you, and that's why we couldn't go. But that they should go ahead and go without us."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It just felt...weird...at the time, and it was fun making you take care of me."

"Considering it's been twenty years, I'm inclined to forgive you...just this once."

He smiles again and punches me in the arm. Then he looks around to make sure no one's looking directly at us, and leans across the machine to peck me on the cheek.

"This is why I love you, bro. You understand me."

It's not the first time he's said it. Not by a long shot. He's always said it. Even when we were just friends back in college. It's not that I don't think he means it, but it's hard to know how he means it, still.

The pizza place is a madhouse. There's at least three birthday parties going on, and the entirety of Briar and Hazel's softball team high off their championship win is making things even rowdier.

"Makes you wish we didn't promise them pizza after every win, doesn't it?" I lean in and say to him in a low voice as we survey the crowd, trying to keep an eye on each of the twins. He throws his arm around my shoulder. In front of the team is not one of the PDA-approved places, but an arm around the shoulder doesn't count.

"Ah come on, bro. It's your first winning season as assistant coach. Get excited."

I give a little sarcastic "whooo," and he grins at me widely. When the title of "assistant coach" had become available, he'd really only offered it to me because I had the extra time now that Amanda was off and semi-on her own. I'd only accepted it because it was the only way I could find to spend time with him. I really didn't know the first thing about coaching softball, but no one questioned it. Thus the elaborate ruse had been allowed to perpetuate long enough for me to actually learn the ropes and start to pull my weight.

"Hey boys." Oh god. It was one of the new moms this year, Elizabeth. She and her daughter had just relocated from the midwest, fresh off a nasty divorce.

"Some of the girls and I were talking," she starts.

You mean you were talking and everyone was just nodding in agreement hoping you'd go away.

"And it might not be a bad idea to start talking about fundraising for next season early. What if we have a little meeting?"

Alone, in your house, probably.

This is one thing that hasn't changed, and I can't stand it. Us being together is not a secret. Not in the least. They even poke fun at us and called us "the lovebirds." And yet it's like they don't think it counts because I'm a man. That I'm not going to feel equally perturbed by someone hanging all over my significant other and flirting with him right in front of my face. They wouldn't do this to a guy if his wife was standing right there.

But then again some of these ladies might.

Craig, at least, knows how to shake 'em off.

"I like the initiative Elizabeth, but let's let everyone celebrate the win before hitting it hard again." He half-smiles at her, one of the fake ones.

"Oh, well, I took loads of pictures today. Next weekend would be the perfect time to go through them."

"I'm pretty much booked up all next weekend."

"Mr. Assistant Coach isn't, though. What do you say?" and her arm comes around mine, and I panic. This is new. Craig's perfect eyebrows knit together in thinly veiled surprise.

"I-uh-" I sputter. Then Craig's hand comes around mine.

"He'll be with me that weekend. The girls are with their mom, so we're having some time together. Alone." Daggers come shooting from Craig's eyes, and Elizabeth is completely unable to comprehend what's just been said to her. She stands there, wide-eyed, not moving. "And we're gonna be having, just, tons of sex the entire time. So you know. No time to look through pictures." Elizabeth goes white as a sheet, and walks off without another word. I'm fairly certain I have a similar expression when I look up at Craig.

"What the shit was that, Craig?"

His face's lost a little color, too, though, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth.

"I don't know. I just...I don't like her. And I wanted her to go away as fast as possible." He's still holding my hand, squeezing tighter now. Elizabeth has fallen back to a gaggle of moms, and now they're darting glances at us. They're trying to hide it and not doing a very good job. He finally lets go.

"God they're gonna talk about that for a week," Craig sighs. "But whatever, bro, right?"

"Right," I respond unsure.

I wake up Monday morning with a start. Something's off. I check my phone. I should have been at the gym an hour ago. There's about a fifty percent chance on any given day that I'll sleep through my alarm. I've come to terms with that and so has Craig. That's why he always texts me before he's about to leave the house. He knows I won't actually go unless he does. What's going on?

I send a quick text.

"Where are you? Are we not going to the gym, today?" I type. It's a solid five minutes before he responds, practically an eternity.

"Sorry, bro. I'm feeling a little sick, so I decided not to go. :("

The frowny face is a nice touch. Oh well.

"Want me to bring you something? Need help with the girls?" I text back immediately. I only have to wait half a second this time.

"No. It's cool. Twins are at camp and I managed to get River to day care. So I'm just gonna sleep."

There he goes trying to do everything himself. I've told him again and again that I'm here. That I can help. He's slowly getting it, but he's more stubborn than he realizes. In any case, I decide that, despite his protests, I will be taking care of him. If only a little.

"Amanda, I'm going to the store for a few things, then over to Craig's. Do you need anything?" I tap on her door and only get a groan in response.

Guess not.

It's only a five minute drive to the small grocery store down the road. It's across the street from the gym and a new hyper-organic, gluten free, paleo, vegan-ultra-plus juice bar that's making everyone nervous. It only takes another fifteen minutes or so to pick up the whole "sick boyfriend" bundle then I briefly entertain the thought of getting him a mango smoothie. It's his favorite.

I only just pull into the parking lot, though, before slamming on my brakes so hard I almost ram into the car ahead of me.

Craig is coming out of the gym looking as fine as ever. Which, for Craig, is extremely fine. Behind him is a gaggle of the softball moms.

What in the hell is this shit?!

I want to yell out the car window at him, but I don't. I can't. I'm too utterly perplexed. I take a few breaths to keep myself from getting mad. There's an explanation. Craig has given me no reason not to trust him in all the time I've known him.

Right?

I'm back in my living room without being totally sure how I got there. Amanda's sitting on the couch staring at me.

"What's up, Pops?I thought you were going to see your booooyyyfriiiieeend." She flashes a quick smile as she draws out the last word, but it fades quickly. "Seriously. What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I flop down on the couch and sink back into it.

"What do you do if you find out your boyfriend lied to you?"

"Um. Okay? How big a lie we talkin'? Because it's just self-preservation to not tell you if a pair of jeans make you fat."

"He said he was sick, and he's not. I just saw him coming out of the gym with some of the softball moms."

"Oh. Well. Um. Hm." She makes a few more noncommittal sounds. "Sounds like you should have one of those 'communications' you're always telling me is so important to a proper, mature relationship."

"Yeah...yeah, you're right."

"Of course I am." She pats me on the head.

I don't call or text him right away like I would have recommended to my own daughter. Instead I convince myself that this is a conversation better to have in person.

Tuesday we're supposed to go for a run, but there's something he has to deal with at River's daycare. It ends up being an unexpected no-go.

Wednesday is a gym day. It starts with a text in the morning that his car's acting weird, so he's taking it into the shop. No need to worry about it, though. He has it covered. I understand car issues, but the insistence that he doesn't need my help bothers me immensely. I don't know how to react to it.

"Oh, and tomorrow is daddy/daughter day at camp, so I'll be doing that." He texts next.

That's classic Craig and I can't fault him for it. I love that about him, actually. I feel myself relaxing a little.

"And let's do 9:00 instead this Friday."

No.

That's too far. I've been waking up at 6:00 (sorta) to get to the gym by 7:00 regularly for months. We've never EVER shifted times. His daily schedule is too tight. No. Something's wrong. I give him an out.

"Everything okay, bro? Anything I can help with?" I stare at the screen, waiting, watching. A whole year passes, it feels like.

"No. It's cool."

Then just ":)" about ten seconds later.

Craaaiiiig. I am gonna wring your neck. Your hot, muscular neck.

I feel like the ultimate stalker watching from my window for Craig's car Friday morning. He's off in his gym clothes (which, admittedly, are often his regular clothes, too) about 6:45.

What the hell is he up to?

I give myself a buffer of three minutes, then head out to my own car. Four or five times while driving I tell myself I should just go back home. That I'm being literally the worst. Each time, though, I remind myself that it's Craig's fault I'm like this, right now.

Oh my god. I've become the crazy they say not to stick your dick in. When did this happen? Craig doesn't deserve this.

Still, I pull into the parking lot where the gym is. I see Craig's car and park next to it to make a point to myself. I don't find him right away in any of our usual areas, so I wander toward the back of the gym where they hold classes in large, tiled rooms. There's a small group of people huddled around one of the large windows that peek into the classrooms, and I have a sneaking suspicion they'll lead me to Craig.

I'm not wrong.

This, however, is not what I expected to find.

So he's not shirtless. That would cause a riot. He might as well be, though. Instead of his sweats, he's in a tank top loose and thin enough that you can pretty much just see everything, anyway. And those are short shorts. Real, honest-to-God booty shorts. The kind that have "Juicy" written across the butt of them. These, specifically, don't. They're just black. It would be an appropriate label, though.

Once I've taken in the whole...ensemble...I'm able to break my attention away long enough to appreciate the context of the outfit.

"Is this a pole dancing class?" I say quietly to no one in particular.

"Yeah!" a woman responds next to me. "They used to be only at night, but she just started a new morning class. You should try it. I bet you'd be really good." I glance at her, and she's wiggling her eyebrows at me just a little. I give a little breathy, half-hearted laugh, then focus my attention back on the class.

I can't hear it, but I feel the music start through the vibration of the glass. A handful of women take places at the poles lined up in staggered rows. I'm slightly horrified to note that some of them are softball moms. They're clothes aren't as revealing as Craig's by a long shot (yoga pants and baggy t-shirts), but it takes me a moment to shift my frame of reference.

They start with stretches. The usual. Nothing particularly interesting. The group around the window starts to scatter.

Then they actually take to the poles.

Oh. Oh my god.

I don't know pole dancing beyond the one time that I was dragged to a strip club against my will (by Craig come to think of it), but even I can figure out that he's just terrible at this. When the girls spin, even if they're just sort of falling around the pole, it at least looks graceful. Craig is clunky and awkward, and when he throws his weight against the pole he just sort of flops like a fish in midair. As the class progresses, it becomes clear that he has the proper upper and core body strength, but lacks the coordination to actually pull off any of the minor feats of acrobatics.

I'm riveted for the entirety of the hour long class, long after the rest of the onlookers have left. Despite his inexpert flailing, a single thought keeps going through my head: how much I'd love to be that pole.

I knock on his door that evening. I don't tell him I'm coming. I don't give him a chance to give me an excuse. He doesn't seemed confused that I didn't show up to our later gym date. I was out of there before he could catch me at the end of class, so as far as I know, he still doesn't know that I know.

The girls are with their mother this weekend, though, and this is getting figured out before I lose my mind.

Craig shows a flash of surprise when he opens the door, and I step in before he can say anything. I don't get to come over often, so his house still feels strange to me. That doesn't stop me from crossing my arms in his living room and staring him down like I own the place. I don't know where any of this bravado is coming from, but I need to ride the high until Craig answers.

"I'm sorry, bro. I guess I've been blowing you off a little this week," he says, folding his arms together and looking down at his toes. I deflate pretty much instantly.

Damn.

"It just seems like you've been really busy, and you don't want to take my help," I prod just a little. Then I prod him quite literally in the calf with my toe. "Were you gonna tell me about the pole dancing class?" I decide to end this. To deal the killing blow. Craig goes white as a sheet.

"Uh-h-how did you-?"

"I came during our normal gym time this morning." No need to mention the part about following him. That's a secret I'll just go ahead and tuck away forever.

"Oh…you...watched?"

"Yeah."

He rubs his hand across his mouth, thinking.

"I'm so bad at it, bro."

"I saw. In the outfit and everything."

"It's too much, isn't it?"

"I mean...I'm not gonna complain if you were to slip into it right now."

Craig raises an eyebrow at me.

"I can do that, you know." He steps toward me deliberately, bringing his hands down to my hips. I puff out my cheeks at him a little. I very much would like to go ahead and follow through with the look that's in his eyes, but I need to stay focused. Communication. Adulting.

"Why didn't you just tell me? I've been going crazy all week thinking that I did something or that something was wrong or...I don't know. I probably went through a thousand different possibilities."

He brings his hands from my hips to my shoulders. Then from shoulders to cupping my cheeks with his hands.

"Babe. I'm so, so sorry. Things just got really weird all of a sudden, and I got a little blindsided, I guess." He lets out a quick breath of air then looks down and away, collecting his thoughts. "You know Colleen? Becca's mom?"

"Yeah. Of course. I love Colleen. She's the best."

"Right? Well, her sister runs that class, and normally it's only at night but she's trying to do morning classes, too. So she offered free lessons to all the moms or something? I don't know. Anyway. Monday. I legitimately just forgot to send you your wakeup text. I'd been talking to Ashley about arranging the girls' pick-up this weekend, and it really just slipped my mind. When I got to the gym, though, I saw all these moms we know and they told me about this class they're taking and they sort of...bullied me into taking the class with them."

"They...bullied you?" I ask, trying not to smile as I imagine this manliest of men being pressured into anything by these suburban moms. He moves his hands from my jaw to rest them on the top of his head. He shifts on his feet and looks down at the ground again.

"'Oh come on, Coach, I bet you're really good at it. Mr. Assistant Coach should join us, too.' And I thought… I'll just do it once. Then it'll be so weird that they'll never bring it up again."

"And?"

"I liked it?" He bites his bottom lip. "But to be totally clear on something. There was an actual problem at River's daycare and it really was daddy/daughter day at camp. So I only technically lied twice. That sounds awful when I say that outloud."

"No...it's fine." I punch him in the chest, then wiggle my fingers when it hurts. "You could have said something, though. Anything. Hell. I might have even considered joining you. It might-"

"No!"

He says it so loudly and forcefully that I catch my breath in my throat.

"Sorry. Um. If you want to take a pole dancing class, I'm not gonna stop you. Like...you know I'm not gonna get in the way of your physical fitness goals, bro. But...um...can you not with the moms from softball? I'm gonna stop after the free classes this week." He rubs the back of his neck, nervously.

"I was joking, but now I'm a little worried again."

He sighs and pops his lips a few times.

"No offense intended but-"

"You're about to almost offend me, anyway?"

"I-hrrmm." He purses his lips at me. "I was hotter than you back in college. I didn't quite realize it, at the time, but I—and this is gonna sound terrible—kinda liked it? That I got all the attention when we were out together. Because you were smarter and funnier and nicer. So I had this one thing, but because people were always looking at me, they weren't looking at you and seeing how amazing you were and I got you all to myself. It's really stupid, now, obviously, but at the time it was important."

I don't know what to say. This is the deepest Craig's ever gotten with me. I feel like I'm seeing a new part of him.

"But, now you're hot, bro. Like...objectively. And the moms talk about you all the time. 'The new assistant coach really fills out that shirt.' 'Too bad he's taken.' 'Man knows how to use a bat.' It's been driving me nuts all season,"

This was news to me. I had maybe caught a few catcher/pitcher jokes at my expense, but I still only ever heard swooning over Craig.

"And I don't know why it bugs me," he continues. "And I just don't want you around them if I can help it. I never said any of this because it makes me sound like a creep."

"Craig...are you jealous?" I ask, very unsure of all of this nonsense and remembering how much of a creeper I am, too. He looks at me like he's confused by the very word itself.

"Oh my god, I might be."

"You might be?"

"I don't know, bro! I...shit." He's laughing, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Is that what it is?"

"You're a mess, dude." I'm smiling, too. We're both a disaster, really. A couple of idiots still stuck in that weird spot between friends and boyfriends.

While I'm still taking deep breathes and settling into the absurdity of it all, Craig steps up to me again, chest to chest. One arms wraps around my waist and the other finds a place behind my neck. Then he kisses me hard and deep, really getting into those back teeth. I suddenly remember I haven't seen him in a week, and now that we're squared away I really need to see him. As much as him as possible. He pulls away for a moment.

"I love you," he says.

'I love you, too, dude." It's an easy thing to say. It always has been.

"No." He looks me straight in the face, locking eyes with me. "I love you. I really do. I think I might always have at least a little, and now you're just...my world….after the girls."

"Obviously. Kids always get the top spot." My face hurts from being angry and smiling and getting kissed out of my mind, unexpectedly. But Craig is looking at me with that look, and I realize he's expecting an answer. "I love you, too. Really."

He pulls me in again, his mouth next to my ear.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to see some of my new moves in person, but...you know."

"Yeah, your old moves will do just fine."

And yeah. They certainly do.

[damiensdreamdaddy]

(via A New Beginning)

My first Damien Bloodmarch fanfiction: Before moving to Maple Bay, Damien Bloodmarch reflects on the struggles of his life and the life he's built with his son. The first in a series of backstories for the Dream Daddy character Damien Bloodmarch. TW: Deadnaming and Misgendering

[organt]

roses are red 

the ocean is blue