#and shout out to Red for being so effective at lighting snowmen on fire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

couchtaro · 5 months

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Do you get together with your friends once a week to imagine best friends you made up holding and getting held in desperation and terror as one of them rapidly turns to stone, the other flooding her with his literal life force, which manifests as a visceral compulsion to survive, in the hopes that it will somehow help her resist, offering “the closest thing to a prayer he has” as he begs his warlock patron to do anything at all, telling said patron “you don’t know her, but she’s everything” and pleading for her to live while watching her literal actual light gradually extinguish as the petrification overtakes her, all the while she is using what little mobility she still has to hurl lasers at the monsters attacking their friends who are defending them so he can focus his energy on saving her. Or are you normal

@justabitscrewy used every single one of her turns in a session-long combat to hold Phaela and RP her guts out and like. My word. I have to lay down. Let them hug. They’re goin thru it

ID and slightly more context below the cut

Image 1: a roughly sketched digital drawing of two D&D characters. Izen, a drider, is shown in his form of dread, a defensive state designed to frighten off attackers. In this form his face is bare skull, with four pairs of hollow eye sockets and purple mandibles on either side of his jaw. Tears run down the stark bone of his face. He is wearing the bracers that Phaela decorated for him by wrapping them in ribbon. With both hands, he holds Phaela’s face. She is a tiefling woman who looks up at him with wide eyes. Izen’s prized possession, a talisman secured by a ring of straps, is wrapped around her shoulders. Her chin is tilted up as if the stone spreading up her body is a rising tide she is trying to stay afloat in. She is petrified up to her neck with only her head and extended left arm free. Both are suffused by a starry blue glow, which is no longer present in the dull stone overtaking her. She holds starlight in her free hand that she has been trying to defend them with. Her expression is a mixture of desperation, determination, fear, and guilt.

Images 2 and 3: a roughly sketched comic. 1) Izen faces us. Phaela wraps her arms around him with her back to us, her head pressed into his chest and shoulders hunched. His hands rest on her back. 2) Izen bends down to hug Phaela properly, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder. His pedipalps also wrap around her for extra huggage. 3) Izen straightens and lifts Phaela up off the ground, his pedipalps forming a sort of platform that she sits on. 4) Phaela curls into Izen like a child, tail hanging limply down. One of his hands securely circles her back, the other rests on the back of her neck. He rests his head on her shoulder and one of his spider legs comes forward to hold her as well. Maximizing points of contact here. 5) Phaela wildshapes into a cat just to get super extra held. She is nestled in his arms, tucked under his chin, being gently stroked. Her face is still not visible.

End image ID.

#planar Pringles #dnd sketch #dnd stories #Phaela #Izen #art: Phaela #my art #Phaela strats for showing love: be a little kitty. Phaela strats for receiving love: be a little kitty #she’s right #the way Izen talks about phaela is insane actually #she doesn’t even know. she doesn’t know the tragic friends dream sequence. but I do (haunted)#besties if you both have nightmares about how you’re afraid of the lengths one of you would go to to protect the other is that a sign of sm #*something #a sign that things are fine and chill #shout out to cloak of defense and aura of protection and 20 tons of psychic adrenaline for keeping my girl from petrifying and shattering #into a million pieces when the room got trebucheted into a cliff #and shout out to Red for being so effective at lighting snowmen on fire #bff

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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Behold another Lost Boys holiday special! It was between this and Valentine’s day, but honestly I love writing Christmas specials, its such a cozy time despite the high suicide rates, but lets not get into that. A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @imlostinsantacarla FOR HELPING ME EDIT MY FINAL DRAFT!

Fun Fact! My husband, David (yes, that is actually his name) actually does have the bah humbug hat I mention in the head canons. He’s a heavy metal goth so when I found it at the store I had to get it for him. And you just know if our David found that, he wouldn’t be able to resist it!

Christmas with the Boys

Alright, so the whole touchy, feely and mushy feelings that surround even the topic of Christmas time is not something any of the boys will ever openly admit to enjoying. After all, they see themselves as these bad ass brutal killers who thrive off of death instead of holding hands and caroling with the goodie goodies of this coastal town.

Yet, it's challenging for them not to get sucked into the glitz and glam of the holiday season. Everything is a big deal in Santa Carla. Dia De Los Muertos, Halloween, Thanksgiving- everything! But especially Christmas.

Christmas in Santa Carla dwarfs the frenzy craze of Halloween. The entirety of the boardwalk is decked out with red and green lights that are tightly wound around palm trees, red bulbous bows are wrapped tightly around street lamps, the reds and whites of velvety fabric swirl down the posts, creating the effect of candy canes. All the store windows are painted to appear frosted, or covered with painted snowmen whilst several rooftops are covered with white felt in which mimics the texture and sight of snow. Even the boats in the harbour are all extravagantly decorated in a sea of lights that parade around brightly at night in every color imaginable.

Between the dates of the 30th of November all the way to the 24th of December the city of Santa Carla hosts a plethora of wondrous events in it's annual Holiday Festival. Large green, white and red kiosks are erected, selling a wide range of baubles and treats, from delectable chocolate coated rice krispy Santa Clauses, elf candy apples caked in a plethora of dark chocolate and peppermint, to a variety of Holiday hats, masks and even hand made costumes by the many local artists. Even hand carved candles in wondrous scents of pine, mint, or spice.

Currently, David possesses a black fur Santa hat which he acquired on a night out that boasts the words "Bah Humbug" proudly sewn over the front. It's the only holiday attire he'll even humor. Last time Marko attempted to place reindeer antlers on his head, David had set them on fire roasting atop a pan of chestnuts. Now it's not to say that he's a grinch persay. Rather, the complex and intense emotions that come hand in hand with Christmas can leave him perpetually indifferent at best, disdainful at worst. The whole occasion leaves him displeased. After all, he was an orphan who had been almost eagerly abandoned by his hooker mother left to fend for himself from the beginning, and of course never met his father. Even she could not identify which of her many clients may have been responsible. Most of his mortal life he had lived as a street rat, barely making ends meet by picking the pockets of tourists and Santa Carla citizens oblivious to the true dangers of the lower side of town. The rich and uppity classes who often snubbed their entitled noses his way would never suspect as he lurks between alleyways, leaving them cornered at knife point. It was scarce that he ever did see a kind face in the sea of those who had little interest for anyone that was not themselves. Back then it was rather uncommon for anyone to step outside their own little lives, which led to most interactions, outside of the other boys, having been met with great hostility, thus he had learned to be just as equally hostile in turn. Even the mere thought of anyone suddenly dawning a false kindness due to a certain time of year simply agitated David. It rattled him to the very core in a way very few other things did. Why bother with the lies? Couldn't people just face the very basic fact that they weren't nearly as charitable as they often deemed themselves to be? I mean, the young man had seen firsthand a family having previously snubbed a dirty homeless man with appalled disdain at the sight of his muddied clothes and dirt stained skin, only to then begin volunteering at a soup kitchen to purge whatever guilt they carried on their conscience once the holiday season began. The whole ordeal was pitiful! Nevertheless, - more so for Paul and Marko's sakes than his own -, he did humor these traditions amongst the holiday's festivities. Ruining a good time just wasn't his style. Unless they started fucking singing.

Most traditions David could tolerate, some he even enjoyed slightly; although he would never be caught dead admitting something as embarrassing as that! However, he just couldn't stand Christmas carols! They were the bain to his immortal existence. The repetitive nature of these overly cheery jingles left him covering his ears lest they nest in his brain leaving him humming the same damn melody for weeks. This was the case because the dynamic duo of dumbasses were well aware of his hatred for Rudolph the Red Nosed fuckin' roadkill! Stupid red nosed abomination.

“OOOOOOH-,” Paul begins with cheerful mischief.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” David seethes through tightly clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut in indignance.

Paul hesitates. He looks at Marko. Marko looks at Paul. Wicked grins of agreement spread wide like wildfire across their faces as their master plan comes into play. Full throttle. What’s more fun than annoying the shit out of David? One on the left, the other on the opposite side of the cave on the right. This was nothing but Divine perfection if you asked the two troublesome vampires.

“OOOOOH DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW!” Paul belted out at full volume.

“IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH!” Marko followed in suit, the widest eerie grin plastered on his face.

“OVER THE HILLS WE GOOOO” Paul howled enthusiastically.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH!” David's voice hit a whole new octave it had never in all his life so far. All the while Dwayne had opted to vacate the room lest he be caught in the middle of the escalating madness with Laddie in tow. He loved these guys, but not enough to dive head first into their fuckery.

Paul thrives during the Christmas holidays! How could he not? The food, the punk rock covers of Christmas songs, the absolute babes prancing around the town in Santa hats under mistletoe?! He loved it all! You can find him sneaking under mistletoe with many sweet honeys on a constant basis, regardless of whether or not he's acquainted with them. Most do roll their eyes or laugh it off, but every once in a blue moon the guy will get a little lovin' from a beach babe in the Yuletide mood. What else could he ask for? You can bet he’ll run into the woods December first, and quite literally RIP a pine tree out of the ground to bring home like a wee carrot being plucked from the ground. The bigger the better! He may even drag Dwayne or Marko along with him if it's too big for him to carry himself. And all the boozy drinks he can concoct up? This boy is in his element! Mulled wine, spiked eggnog, candy cane vodka, butterscotch bourbon hot chocolate?! Yes! David straight up refuses to try anything that Paul creates himself (remember the concoction he made in Max's kitchen? Those poor goldfish....) which is also another reason why he has Dwayne help him. Or rather, the other boys insist the most responsible of them monitors the blonde lest he poison them with some sickly brew. That, and the fact that Dwayne's the least likely out of all of them to blow up the damn kitchen!

Dwayne is indeed the designated cook during the holiday rush, albeit a field even he tends to struggle. Avoiding the kitchen catching aflame, perfecting his craft lest he blow up the stove, leaving only a pile of ash in its wake. As previously mentioned, ever since the dreadful chain of events that lead to the unfortunate destruction of Max's kitchen, this raven haired vampire has attempted his hand at learning to use a stove properly: Although he often finds himself forgetting ingredients either in the midst of cooking or after the final product is done and he's taken a big bite.

“Shit! I forgot the milk and eggs!” Dwayne grumbled with a mouthful of dry crumbs, a true disgrace of a cookie.

Paul always gives him crap for it of course.

“Oooh I just thought you were going for a sandy, dusty dry cookie kinda thing.”

"Yeah man, these taste like ass!" Marko would cough out in midst of choking.

"And what, like you dumbasses could do any better," Dwayne retorts with a huff. Only Star manages to have any manners when testing his failed baking endeavors.

"Well I mean, the taste isn't that bad. Just a little dry is all."

"At least Marko wouldn't be choking to death." David would mutter from the darkest corner of the room, a little late in the conversation.

In all honesty, Dwayne's biggest motivation when it came to improving his skills was obviously Laddie. The kid never got much of a Christmas whilst living with his mom, so now that he was with the boys, he wanted to ensure that Christmas's were something that Laddie would remember for all eternity. Though granted, it is quite the mess when he was helping in the kitchen. But when the mini vamp grins from ear to ear whilst coated in flour and rapidly stirring an overflowing bowl of chunky cookie dough--the sight is too freaking cute!

Since Laddie joined the boys, they participate in Secret Santa every single year, which definitely includes Paul bursting through the entrance of the hotel as Santa on Christmas day. We won't talk about the fact that each year he almost falls flat on his face and swears, ruining the surprise for the kid.

"Santa where are your reindeer," he'd question, to which Santa Paul scoffs

"Pff, reindeer, I don't need any fucki- Ow," cut off by a firm and covert kick to the shin from Star, Paul quickly changes his response. "Oh! Ho ho, well, you see little boy, Santa can fly too! On his, uh, uhm… magic motorcycle! Yeah, that!"

But it's okay because Laddie already KNEW (he figured it out a year or two ago after Paul's beard fell off not once, but three times), he just doesn't have the heart to tell any of them because, well Paul really gets into it. And he knows the others are playing along for his sake. But to be fair, Laddie would have to be pretty dumb to believe it was Santa. I mean, the beard Paul's wearing is hanging half off his face by this point! But anyway, just like Paul's style, the entirety of the goody two shoes schpiel is thrown out the window, replaced with sleeves that have been ripped off, muddy boots, spiked bracelets and his Metallica shirt in full view beneath his flared red coat. He calls this BIKER CLAUS!

Laddie is not a squasher of traditions! But there was the one time that David had to intervene when Paul and Dwayne thought it would be great to use Laddie as the star at the top of the tree. David practically had a heart attack. Well, that's impossible but it still felt like he was having one!

“Ho ho ho! Now, don’t be a bitch, little David or Santa will have to give you coal.” Paul stated mockingly to David, brows furrowed.

“Well, Santa,” David scolds, a wry smile developing on his face when setting down the eight year old now off to shake his presents beneath their behemoth of a tree. “You best be careful. You never know what's in those milk and cookies, hm?”

Each year Marko buys bird toys for the pigeons in the hotel. Well, buy is probably the wrong word. More like he liberates the stores of their stock. And then for the next six months, David has to hear the agonizing jingle of bells. David almost roasted one pigeon in particular that kept flying over him to drop the ball with a bell in it on his head. That was Paul's entertainment for the next five hours, hell, he'd try to find it if the bird lost it and give it back. Marko defends the pigeon. Between running through stores buying up surprises for his friends, he's helping Paul throw out decorations for the cave. The dollar store has some surprisingly unexpected treasures, allowing him to deck the fucking halls to the max. Tinsel here, ornaments there, tiny light up trees to hide around the caves, a butt ton of cinnamon pine cones which he ends up throwing back and forth with Paul.

And Paul often steals his gifts or goes dumpster diving for any hidden gems. He forgets to take the tags off of them the majority of the time, which is always an indicator whether or not its new. Any time Star asks where he got them from he refuses to answer. Just gets up and walks away. But for David's gift? Well this lucky bastard has found coal in the dumpster and chucks it to David when he's not looking and he sighs deeply in disappointment because this is the third year Paul has done this.

"Huh? What? Who did that? Wasn't me. Somebody's throwing stuff."

Other than that he'll find a fat bag of charcoal and just tape the name David on it. David is certainly not amused. Dwayne will actually try to figure out what the others want, and has the sense to save the money taken from their previous meals. After all, they're dead, they wouldn't have much use for it anyway. He's not about to waste his hypnosis on some poor cashier. That would be a waste of time in his eyes.

When Christmas did arrive the tree was piled with mysterious boxes crudely mashed and taped together with bows and ribbons underneath it. It's obvious which ones are from Star since those gifts are wrapped in neatly pressed paper, wound tight beneath curled ribbons that remind the boys of her hair. Marko often goes on a food run rather than allow them all to be subjected to a potentially charred turkey, no offense to Dwayne of course. So, with a table covered from end to end with copious bowls of gravy, potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, a beast of a turkey in the center packed to the brim with cornbread stuffing, the boys cram into their chairs knocking back beers and spiked cider. Keeping to their own traditions, after fattening up, they gather around the tree and play card games, just as they had over eighty years ago on that frigid night. David still slays them in poker, and Marko is an utter dark horse when it comes to blackjack. Paul insists they try Go Fish. No one ever wants to play Go Fish. Closer towards the end of the night Dwayne will slip away to Jasper's shrine and bring him a fresh glass of rum as well as unwrapping what he got him that year. While Dwayne is there, the other boys will join him - omitting Star and Laddie left unaware of the Lost Boy they'd never met - in celebrating the last hour or so of the Holiday season with their fallen comrade.

Although Christmas time is often about uncomfortable mushy moments and emotions that create deep, unfamiliar times for David. The entire ordeal becomes that for everyone of the boys and Star. But God forbid anyone who even mentions it! I mean, it's kinda obvious though considering he's spending it with the people he always called family, knee deep in traditions that are sentimental to himself and the boys. There's a fluster of emotions running rampant during this particular Holiday Season, and although the blonde brooding vampire decides to squint at it with skepticism he savors these moments, knowing like Jasper, it could all be swept away with a single ray of light or the foolish hand of a hunter. So as they sit, drunk, full, and laughing beside Jasper's grave he can't help but smile at the sentimentality of it all. Christmas is a pain in the ass, but… it's a pain he'll gladly sit through for his brothers.

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leisurelypanda · 7 years

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Life is Good chapter 16

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11676360/chapters/27430023

Thanksgiving Day was, blessedly, uncomplicated. Beyond the actual cooking itself (Craig handled the turkeys), preparing for the family to arrive was actually quite easy. Andrew made Amanda’s favorite cherry pie without catching fire even once (they were all very impressed). The only tricky thing was what to do with Carl Jr. He was about 9 months old now and big enough to pose a threat to any food left on the counter top. They were trying to train that out of him, but as yet, they had not managed to eradicate the behavior entirely. The simplest solution would be to keep him in the basement and close the doors to the laundry room and the workout room so he couldn’t get into too much trouble.

“I think it’s cruel that Carl Jr. isn’t getting any turkey while the rest of us stuff our faces,” Amanda said after they had closed the door.

“You’re right,” Andrew replied. “It’s not fair. It’s also not fair to leave entire turkeys up where a puppy can get to and choke on a bone.”

“Fair point.” She said. “It’s for your own good, boy.”

“You’re not allowed to go back to college,” he said, hugging her. “I miss having you around too much.”

“Ugh, dad, feelings,” she replied. “As much as I’d love to stay and befriend our first dog, I got pictures to take, things to steal, establishments to break. You know, normal college stuff.”

“That’s my girl,” he said. “Now help me set up the tables.”

Smashley was the first to arrive, naturally. She came through the door with a store bought pumpkin pie, set it on the counter, and was immediately attacked by her twin daughters. Andrew immediately thought that it was going to be awkward seeing her again, especially since he was very seriously dating Craig now, but she just gave him one of her bear hugs that was half hug, half tackle, and half the reason for her unfortunate nickname.

“Andrew! Dude! How ya been, man?” she nearly shouted at him. “You never write, you don’t call, honestly I feel forgotten.”

“Hey Smashley, good to see you again,” he said with a bit of a nervous chuckle. They settled into a bit of a tense catching up session, her talking about her life and what she was up to these days, and him talking about what happened after they all graduated from college. Eventually she looped her arm around his.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” she asked. Andrew looked at Craig who just smiled and waved them off.

“Sure, I guess,” he said. Please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me.

They went outside, which at this point in Maine meant that it was cold as hell. Their breath made puffy clouds and there was a light layer of snow on the ground, good for stomping around in, but not good for making snowmen yet. It was peaceful, serene even. Across the way, Andrew could see Damien’s garden, which was beautiful and vibrant lie barren for the season. Damien had sold dozens of bouquets to the local flower shops before they all ended up dying. It was exactly the sort of relaxing atmosphere for too friends to catch up.

Or for a murder to happen, he thought to himself.

“Relax, champ, I’m not going to beat you up,” Smashley chided playfully. “I just want to know how it’s going between you two.”

Andrew swallowed, not yet reassured. “Things are great. Couldn’t be happier.”

“Good,” she said. “He certainly seems more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years. Every time he drops the girls off, he seems less like a lost puppy than he used to, though I doubt he’ll ever be okay with being away from them.”

“You should have seen him when he sent them to that sports camp over the summer,” he said. “A full week without them, he was inconsolable the first couple days.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “That sounds exactly like him. But seriously, ever since you two got together, he’s been better. Grounded.” She turned to face him fully, her face very serious. “Thank you.”

Andrew blinked. “For what?”

“For doing what I never could,” she replied. “I was actually afraid that he would run himself into the ground. I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.”

Andrew was honestly touched. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You’re welcome,” he said. They hugged again, gentler this time, like two friends who had been apart for a long time reuniting. ****************************************************************************************************

Finally everyone had arrived and the meal was ready. Andrew was most worried about his daughter. Amanda had made friends with Craig’s mother, Brooke, who was now teaching her how to play poker over turkey and fixings. A lesson, which Andrew, Craig, his sister, and her husband all got roped into at the table in the living room, angled so that Brooke could simultaneously keep track of the football game. Together the two of them took all comers and soundly thumped them all. Fortunately they only played with poker chips and not actual money, otherwise Andrew would be completely broke.

“Good thing we aren’t playing strip poker, eh, boy?” Brooke teased. “You’d be buck ass nude and then I couldn’t teach your daughter a damn thing.”

“Ugh, Gramms!” Amanda protested. “Thanks for that image.”

“Leave him be, mom,” Craig said. “At least we know that he won’t blow our life savings.”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied drinking her beer. “You’re just happy we weren’t playing strip poker cause by now you’d be all hot and bothered.”

Craig’s face turned bright red. “Mooom! I’d at least try to be decent around the family,” he protested.

“Why?” she asked downing what was left of her drink. “I don’t.” As if to emphasize her point, she rose up and slammed her drink down to the table. Her team was losing. “What the fuck was that play? What the fuck were you thinking, you half brained jackasses! I could play better with both hands tied behind my back!”

Andrew leaned over to Craig. “Bro, is your mom always like this at Thanksgiving?”

Craig nodded solemnly. “She thinks that nothing in the English language is off limits as long as it’s said well. Which usually comes out when football’s on.”

“How did I miss this when we were younger?”

“I think we were usually a mile high or drunk or in a food coma or a combination of the three,” he said. “I mean, you practically lived with us for a while, bro. It’s amazing that you didn’t know.”

Since the poker game was interrupted by poor football prospects, Amanda made her way over to their side of the table.

“Yo Pops, my new Grandma is the bomb,” she said. “Can we keep her?”

“I don’t think the freezer downstairs is big enough, Manda Panda” he joked. Craig snorted into his drink.

“Daaaaad, she can just sleep on the couch and we can get a rocking chair so she can sit out on the lawn and yell at rowdy teenagers, it’ll be fun!” she said.

“Much as I would like to keep my mother around as a constant corrupting influence on my young daughters,” Craig said, “I’m the youngest, so I’m the last in line to have to take care of her.”

His sister, Rose, heard that from the other end of the table. “What was that, little brother, I’m first in line?” she asked. “No no, as the most successful of us, you’re the first one up for taking care of her in her old age.”

“Who are you calling old?” their mother demanded.

“You mom, you’re 65,” she said.

“None of you are allowed to call me old ‘til I’m on my deathbed!” she declared. “So you’re all gonna be waiting a long damn time!”

Amanda laughed loudly. “See, we have to keep her!” ****************************************************************************************************

Later that evening, as Craig and Andrew were lying down on their bed, Craig turned to his bro and said, “I love you. Happy Thanksgiving, bro.”

Andrew smiled back. “Happy Thanksgiving, bro. I’m so grateful to be with you.” ****************************************************************************************************

Black Friday was spent, oddly enough, not at the office, as Andrew half expected. Rather, when he awoke in the morning and wandered out into the living room, he found Craig trying to teach River how to walk. He held her arms up gently with her feet set on the floor in front of him. She was making hesitant steps as Craig cheered her on.

“Morning workout seems a bit different this morning,” Andrew quipped.

“Tiny bro has her regimen, too, dude,” Craig said without looking up.

“Does this mean I get a rest day?” he asked.

“Just for that I’m gonna push you even harder today.” He teased. He let River go to let her stand for a while.

“Nice knowing ya, Popsicle,” Amanda said from the couch.

“Make sure to say something nice at the funeral,” he replied. “Something poetical. Something with imagery.”

“I’ll write a haiku,” Amanda promised.

Just then River fell to the ground and began crying. Craig knelt down and began encouraging her and helping her get back into a standing position. She sniffled, but let him help her go through some clumsy steps. Just then Carl Jr. trotted into the room wagging his tail slightly as he sniffed River. River smiled and let go of Craig’s fingers and reached out and grabbed Carl’s fur, using him to cruise around. Carl didn’t seem to mind and walked around slowly as he supported her tiny body. Amanda took out her phone and began taking a video of the two of them as Andrew and Craig heaped gobs of praise on both the baby and the dog.

The effect was eventually ruined by River falling down on her butt. She started crying in frustration, but Carl Jr lay down behind her and began to lick her face. Her crying stopped and she began giggling. The lesson officially ended as River began playing with Carl’s fur and ears.

“Amanda,” Craig said. “Can you watch them? I’m gonna kill your dad.”

“I’m not even dressed yet!” he protested.

“You have a t-shirt and pajama pants. Just throw some shoes on, what more do you need?”

“Have fun!” she cheered as Craig dragged Andrew down to the basement. ****************************************************************************************************

True to his word, Andrew felt like he was dying. By the time Craig announced he was done, his entire upper body felt like it was about to disintegrate. Craig, on the other hand, looked great, even if he himself had gone as hard as he had pushed his bro. His biceps were pumped, his chest was heaving, and his shirt was so sweaty it clung to his body and Andrew found it difficult to be cross with his bro while he looking so sexy.

Be that as it may, even if Craig were in the mood, he didn’t think he had the energy to have sex with him. He also just wanted to get in a shower and wash himself off.

“Hey bro,” Craig said, bumping his shoulder with his fist. “You did good today, I’m really impressed with how far you’ve come.”

Andrew blushed despite himself. “Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you,” he replied.

Craig gave that toothy grin. Dammit I’m supposed to be angry and he’s being cute. “Aw bro, you’re gonna make me blush.”

Andrew gave in and grinned. “Much as I enjoy complimenting each other, I’d love to wash off. I feel gross.”

“Wanna save water?” Craig asked.

Andrew grinned and his dick expressed interest. Maybe I do have a little energy left over after all. ****************************************************************************************************

Amanda was trying really, really hard not to think about how long her dad and Craig had been in the shower and focus on introducing the twins to one of her favorite shows: Warehouse 13. She was, after all, 18 and knew that there was a limited number of things people did in the shower. So far, Briar had declared that Artie was her favorite character and Hazel threw her lot in with Myka. River wasn’t paying much attention, as she had curled up on the floor with Carl Jr and fallen asleep and Carl lay his head protectively in her lap. Amanda had gotten lots of great pictures that she fully intended to frame and put on a wall somewhere in the house.

Just then Andrew and Craig walked out of their room, clean and refreshed. Their eyes took in everything that was happening. The show, the twins captivated by the show and River and Carl sleeping together on the floor.

“Please tell me that you got pictures of that,” Craig stage whispered. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” Amanda replied in like fashion, holding up her camera. “I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this!”

Craig walked over to her to give her a fist bump, but his plans were ruined. Amanda got up and hugged him. Craig was a bit surprised but returned it gently.

“I love being part of this family,” she said.

Craig smiled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his bro wipe his eye. “Me too, Amanda. Me too.”

#craig cahn x dadsona #hazel cahn #briar cahn #river cahn #amanda ann #Thanksgiving #Thanksgiving chapter #Craig's mom is a salty sailor grandma #Life is Good #fanfic #dream daddy #ddadds

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