#i was going for that pancake thing rodents do when you hold them and they like you

[cmdrcat]

Destiny Week Day 1: Ghosts

i want to see my little boy (here he comes).sai

I like the idea that ghosts are private things. They're part of your soul? spirit? light? I mean they’re with your 24/7, live in your metaphysical backpack and bring you back to life on a regular basis so I imagine guardians are fairly protective of them. If a someone trusts you enough to let them touch their ghost, that’s a pretty big dang deal. 

Huge thanks to @destinyweek for these prompts!

[mlmdarkfiction]

Communication

For Anonymous 

Fandom: The Boy

Pairing: Brahms/Male Reader

CW: Consensual Nonconsent Roleplay, NSFW Description: “I know you’d never hurt me,” Because he wouldn’t. Brahms was capable of hurting people. He’d hurt someone if it meant protecting you both. But he’d never hurt you. You have the utmost faith in him. Read Below: 

Soft early morning light fills the kitchen of the Heelshire Estate as you work on making pancakes for you and Brahms. He's sitting at the table reading the paper, and occasionally glancing up to look at you.

The radio is the only sound to accompany the sizzling of the pan. For once it didn't play the classics, instead it played one of the local stations that played the recent hits, Brahms had asked you for that after all. He'd said he wanted to see what he'd missed of the world while shut away, although you can tell from glancing at his expression that he doesn't seem to enjoy it much.

"What do you think of it?" You ask your partner, smiling at him. Even if Brahms doesn't enjoy it, you like it, humming a line under your breath.

He doesn't respond, and you have to hold back a bit of a laugh.

"You don't like it?"

"No." His voice is low, and deep.

Since he'd left the walls, since your relationship had developed, Brahms had almost entirely dropped his high pitch childish voice. It seemed to be entirely reserved now for moments when he's anxious, or in the incredibly rare circumstance that there's a stranger in the house.

"I think I prefer the classics." He continues.

"I'll turn it off for now then," It's a compromise. He's trying to branch out a bit.

"But I like this music, so."

You see Brahms roll his eyes childishly, but you don't bring it up since he doesn't argue with you on it.

"Here," You present a plate to Brahms. "I didn't burn it this time."

Taking your own plate you sit across from him, the pair of you begin to eat in silence.

It's Brahms who speaks up to break it, "I think I'll check the traps after breakfast."

"Mm." You hum in agreement.

Although he doesn't spend much time in the walls anymore, he's turned his old room there into an office for his dolls and any other projects he decides to work on, and lately he's had an issue with rats.

"A good idea. We don't want any more little visitors."

Brahms makes a face of disgust in agreement.

"The traps have been helping."

"Good." A soft sigh leaves your lips as you think of all the other chores you need to get today.

"I think after I do the dishes, I'll clean the bedroom and bathroom then."

It'll be a good use of both your time, you cleaning the visible parts of the house while Brahms cleans it's innards.

Brahms finishes eating before you do, and leaves his plate in the sink for you to wash before disappearing inside the walls.

You can hear him shifting and moving around out of sight.

It's quiet, you're sure it's not something Brahms is actually trying to do at this point, but more of a habit. If you didn't know what to listen for, if you didn't know he was there, you probably wouldn't hear him at all.

He hasn't left yet. He hasn't gone to check the traps yet, instead waiting to watch what you'll do.

You can feel his eyes intently watching you as you finish your own breakfast.

If Brahms is going to watch then you'll put on a show for him.

Humming under your breath you reach to turn the radio back on, a bit of music to set the mood, and gather your plates to take to the sink.

It's innocent, and playful, but you know Brahms is watching intently as you rock your hips and ass along with the music.

And exactly as planned you can feel Brahms’ eyes beginning to bore their way into your backside.

However you’re surprised to hear the scrapes and creaks from the ancient walls as Brahms moves away from you and the view.

You’re surprised. After all you expect Brahms to watch you for as long as he can, or at least until you’d finish the dishes and go onto your other chores.

And you do finish the dishes, alone, no longer feeling the invisible presence lingering with you.

It’s odd, but maybe he really is just looking forward to having a clean, rodent free office.

You don’t think about it anymore as you make your way upstairs, even as you hear movement mimicking your own.

Is it Brahms?

Is it the rats?

As much as you were used to listening for your lover, sometimes it was still hard to tell which was which, especially when the house was so quiet.

The sounds persist though.

You can still hear the shifting, the soft footsteps, and scratching as you clean the bathroom.

As you wipe down the mirror you can’t help but smile at your reflection. Without Brahms hovering around you for once you’re really able to take in your own appearance. You’re tall yourself, only three inches shorter than the 6’4 Brit, but between his height and width you just feel so much smaller.

Although you feel good about yourself, and your appearance, there’s something about seeing yourself next to Brahms that always has you feeling like you look soft, and squishy.

Huggable.

It’s not a bad thing, you think, after all Brahms seems to enjoy it quite a bit.

With the bathroom done now, you pull your long brown hair out of your face, and begin washing your hands.

You’re almost done with your chores and then…

A nap sounds good, although you’d hate to make the bed only to dirty it again.

So you don’t. You don’t make the bed, instead deciding to pick up around the bedroom. It’s already mostly clean, after all you tend to keep it that way to avoid having to do too much future cleaning later.

All you really have to do is pick up the dirty clothes from the floor and move them to the-

An unusual noise.

A loud noise.

It’s the sound of moving furniture, the scrape of wood on wood.

You stop, dropping the clothes into the hamper.

“Brahms?”

The noises stop abruptly as if startled by the sound of your voice, but…

It’s silent for a while, no response from Brahms, but eventually you begin to hear the regular sounds of shifting within the walls.

You shrug it off, he’s just busy after all, and there’s a chance the sound is just carrying, Brahms might even be too far away in the house to hear you calling for him.

Instead of worrying about the weird sounds you’d heard, you go back to finishing the last of your chores so you can finally take that nap.

Lifting the hamper into your arms you carry your and Brahms’ dirty clothes to the laundry room, humming the whole way.

Once again you become aware of the fact you’re being watched. There’s no proof, just that feeling , the all too familiar feeling of being watched.

Amused by Brahms’ continued attention you just smile as you start the load of laundry.

“I’m going to take a nap now, alright?” You ask the air, waiting patiently for a response you never get.

Brahms is just busy, you figure, likely working on something now that he’s cleaned and reset all the traps, and so you head back to the bedroom, not calling out again in fear of interrupting him.

Your awakening isn’t gentle or even natural, it’s not Brahms’ waking you with cuddles and attempts to get your attention, no it’s a sudden loud and distinct shattering sound that wakes you.

The shock of it all has your heart beating.

A nightmare?

Naturally that’s your first thought, it manages to calm you down, your heart rate and breathing return to normal only to immediately become erratic at a clear sound of something else breaking.

You could call out for Brahms but…

If it isn’t him, if there really is someone else in the house, that’d just make you a target.

A better idea would be to find Brahms yourself, and so you carefully get out of bed, listening for any sign of the intruder coming closer.

Nothing.

No more sounds.

You can’t stop the sigh of relief you give, inching your way to the door and peeking out.

The source of the sound from before is obvious now, a broken vase lays in the hallway, but there’s no intruder in sight.

Slowly.

Sloooowly you inch the door open just enough so that you can squeeze through.

You’ve only made it to steps from the bedroom door when you finally see them, the intruder, they’re standing at the bottom of the steps, clearly looking for something.

It’s a man.

The intruder is clearly a man, a man much bigger than yourself.

Other than his gender, and size there’s not much else you can make out since he’s covering his face with a black ski mask.

Fuck!

You want to curse, but you don’t, you can’t, not without risking being caught, but that’s exactly what you’re worried about.

He, whoever he is, is blocking the stairs, blocking your chance at escape.

Thinking fast, you have to after all, all it would wake is him turning to see you there, you decide to go back to the bedroom. Maybe then once you’re in there, safer and with the door locked, you could try to escape out the window.

Squeeaak.

Double fuck!

In your haste you’d forgotten about the age of the house, forgotten that if you weren’t careful the old floor boards would squeak.

And squeak they did.

Immediately you whip your head around to the stairs to see the intruder turn to face you too.

The sound of your heart pounding fills your ears, making it almost impossible to think, your next actions fueled entirely by adrenaline, fear, and fight or flight.

Instead of doing the logical thing; running into one of the upper hallways many rooms, and locking the door shut behind you while you try to find a way either outside or into the walls, you instead try dashing past him.

It’s stupid.

So stupid it works.

By the time the intruder reacts to you sprinting down the stairs and past him, all he can do is try (and fail) to grab you by the hair.

You don’t stop, you don’t look back to see if he’s following you, you can tell he’s following you.

You can hear him chasing after you, the floor making desperate noises as he runs after you.

Finally you do what you should have done to begin with.

“Brahms!”

It’s a panicked scream, not the gentle calls from before when you’d heard him in the walls.

You want Brahms to hear you, want him to save you.

“Brahms, please!”

Freedom is in sight running through the kitchen, you’ve almost made your way to the back door before-

Pain .

Sharp, searing pain spreading through your head as you’re forcibly pulled back and into the intruder.

For a moment you just pant in pain and panic, an arm firmly wrapped around your middle keeping you in place, when you go to scream out once again for Brahms the hand that had been in your hair instead goes to your mouth, roughly clamping over it.

You feel like you’re going to hyperventilate, forced to breath out your nose as the strong hand keeps your mouth covered.

“...Don’t scream.”

The man's voice is low, rough.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

He’s waiting for you to confirm, you realize after a moment of tense silence, and so you force yourself to nod despite his tight hold on your face.

“Good boy.”

The hand leaves your mouth, and so you take the opportunity to quickly breath in through your mouth, trying to calm your panicked heart.

“P-Please…”

Your voice trembles a little as you’re finally face to face with the masked assailant.

He’s so much bigger than you. You knew that before but now up close, face to face, you realize just how big of a difference it is.

You realize just how much danger you’re really in.

“I,”

The word barely leaves your mouth, throat feeling too dry to speak. He doesn’t seem to care though, like a predator watching his prey he lies in wait until you’re able to try again.

“I’ll do anything if you just...don’t hurt me. Anything, just...let me go.”

He laughs.

He just laughs.

Somehow that’s the scariest thing you think he could have responded with, and you can feel the ball of anxiety inching ever tighter in your gut before he finally speaks up.

“Anything?”

You gulp on instinct.

“Are you really sure you’re willing to do anything for me to let you go?”

Words leave you.

It’s too scary to think about what he’s going to make you do, so you decide not to, you just...turn your brain off, and you nod.

That’s all the confirmation the man needs, as he grabs you then, pulling you hard and flush against him, where you find that he himself is hard and flush.

Now you know where this is going and although you’re shocked and anxious, you feel a part of yourself exhilarated by the whole situation.

He’s grinding his cock against you steadily now, your body still forced against his own, and you can’t help but pant softly, your own body beginning to heat up in response.

You jump at the contact of rough, slightly chapped lips on your neck, a nervous moan leaving your own in surprise.

Although your attacker is wearing a mask, you can feel the hints of stubble below, all creating a familiar sensation of pleasure as he kisses all your sensitive spots, as if he knows from experience where they are.

“Ah~”

Teeth sink into your unmarred flesh with the intention to mark it, mark you, and all you can do is let the attacker have his way.

There’s no way for you to tell how long you stood like that with your attacker in the kitchen, his hard cock grinding against your own slowly hardening member, as he covers your neck in dark hickeys you’ll have no chance of covering.

Eventually.

Eventually though the other seems to grow tired of just grinding. He wants more. He wants something else.

“On your knees.”

Rough hands push you down and away.

You almost stumble as you do as you’re told, hurrying to get into position out of fear of what might happen if you disobey.

As soon as your knees connect with the kitchen's cold tile floor, you’re met with the intruder's cock.

It’s hard, the tip is shiny and red already smeared with his ever leaking precum.

Instinctually you lick your lips.

A firm hand rests on your lower back, scooting you slightly towards him, towards his dick.

Fearfully you look up at the masked man to see him look back, expectation clear on his half covered face.

“Well?” He asks, smugness dripping from his tone, “Don’t you know what to do?”

And you do, so you do it.

You take his cock into your mouth, just the head at first. The taste and smell completely dominate your senses as you lick the head clean, nursing the tip of any access pre.

Eyes slipping shut you focus on the task at hand. You don’t want to think about who the stranger who the cock in your mouth belongs to, or the strain that’s quickly becoming apparent in your own pants, no you just want to make this man cum as soon as possible.

“Ack-”

The rest of his cock enters your mouth, threatening to enter your unprepared throat as you jolt, a sudden stinging sensation going through your ass.

He’d spanked you!

Through your clothes sure, but it hurt nonetheless.

“Open your eyes,” He threatens, the first spank having only been a warning. “I want you to look at me.”

When you comply you’re met with a small kindness, those big hands that had spanked you before now soothingly rubbing at your covered ass.

“Keep sucking.” He says meeting your eyes as he reminds you of the task at hand, and you do as you’re told.

You tongue the underside of his shaft, looking up as you feel your shorts removed, followed quickly by your underwear.

The cool air makes you shiver, and a soft noise leaves your throat, vibrating the length in your throat, as your captor traces your own.

You feel his laughter, the way it rumbles through his body, before you actually hear it.

His hands are needing your ass forcing moans and other reluctant noises of pleasure adding to the rumbled vibrations to your captors cock.

Cum .

That’s all you’re thinking about.

Cum.

I have to make him cum.

I have to make him cum before-

It seems like your captor has tired of squeezing and toying with your ass as if it’s a stress ball, because the moments relief you feel as he finally stops is immediately interrupted by the feeling of a large finger tracing your rim.

A bit panicked you press against his thighs, but are only met with a forced buck into your throat before his free hand pulls you back and off his cock by your long hair.

No words come. You're too busy regaining air to your neglected lungs after that last harsh thrust in your mouth, and so you’re unable to protest as he forces you to the ground entirely.

“Huh? Wait! Oh~”

A finger, just one, is forced inside you, and you’re forced to silence, the air taken from your lungs so suddenly.

It’s a finger.

Only a finger.

But it’s so thick, thicker than your own.

The man says nothing, but you can feel the weight of his body atop your own, the rise and fall of his chest as he excitedly begins to pump his finger in and out, fucking you with it, as his cock grinds and thrusts against your thigh staining it as he leaks eagerly.

You remain breathless as a second finger is added, and already you feel so full.

“Please- Ah- Fuck-”

It’s hard to speak with thick fingers fucking into you, spreading and stretching your inner walls, making it so you’ll maybe, maybe be able to take that monster cock waiting for you.

Tears spring to your eyes at the realization that this is very much real, and when the fingers leave you, when you feel the man above you shift his weight to get into position you try to squirm away finally.

The kitchen door is there.

It’s right there.

You’re inches away from freedom, but....

The cock lines itself up with your stretched entrance, you cringe and sob expecting what’s to come and-

“Yellow.” It’s a whisper in an all to familiar voice.

Brahms voice.

Not just his voice, but his child voice.

Everything stops then, you wipe the fake tears from your face, and wiggle into a turn so that you’re facing the other man.

He lets you gently take his face into your hands, doesn’t react as you lift the ski mask.

Brahms looks unsure, nervous, and is clearly receding into himself as if he’d done something wrong.

It’s your job to assure him he hadn’t.

“What’s wrong?” The question is gentle, soft, the last thing you want is to make things worse. Gently you rub circles with your thumb against the scared part of his cheek, and he lets you, leaning into the familiar touch for comfort.

“You seemed...You seem…”

His voice is going back and forth between his own and the child voice, but you don’t rush him, you wait patiently for him to gather himself, no matter the voice he uses to express himself.

“You seemed really afraid.” He finally manages to tell you, moving to hug you, his body bent a bit so he can hide his face in your neck.

Brahms is supposed to be your protector. He doesn’t want you to be afraid or disgusted by him.

“I knew it was you,” It’s a soft explanation, your hands gently rubbing soothingly at his back.

“I was just acting,”

“You’re a good actor.” Brahms sounds almost as if he’s pouting.

It makes you laugh actually.

“Thank you but...I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry I ruined the roleplay you wanted to do…”

Ah.

He’s scared he ruined things.

“No, Brahms sweetie, it’s okay.” You squeeze him in the embrace.

“That’s why we have safewords.”

He nods lightly.

“I would never want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

He nods again.  

Brahms seems a bit more relaxed now, at least enough that he’s stopped hiding behind his child voice.

“...Did I ruin the mood?”

“No,” A gentle smile takes your face. “You didn’t ruin the mood, but if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to continue, okay? I won’t be mad.”

There’s clear hesitation before Brahms answers you.

“Can we stop for today?”

“Of course-”

He shyly interrupts you.

“Could we just...make love instead?”

Your answer is given in the form of your lips on his.

A soft, loving kiss, and when you pull away you’re both smiling.

“Yeah, but...We have got to move to the bed, the floor is killing my back. “

It’s a painless enough move to the bedroom, although you notice Brahms has decided to don the ski mask once again, only slightly pushed up to reveal his lips.

“Hey…” You tell him softly, pulling him closer to you as you get comfortable in bed facing one another.

Before continuing you kiss him, it’s passionate, loving, you use the distraction to remove the mask entirely, throwing it to the corner of the room before running your hands through his dark curly hair.

“I love you,” Finally you continue.

“Nothing’s going to change that.”

He was keeping the mask on for you, but you want to let him know he doesn’t have to.

You love him as he is.

“I love you too.”

Another kiss.

This time initiated by Brahms himself.

He’s already hard from before, as are you, and so after the kisses, the reassurance, he wastes no time in rolling on top of you.

“Is...this alright?” He asks, lining up with your entrance, just as he had in the kitchen.

“Mhm.” You nod panting, reaching down to stroke your cock only to have your hand batted away by Brahms, who takes you into his hand himself, giving a slow stroke in time with his gentle first thrust inside you.

With your hands free thanks to Brahms you use one to pull him close, hooked around his neck as the other rubs his chest.

So big, broad, masculine, and hairy, like Brahms himself.

You love it.

Just like you love him .

He’s waiting for you to give him confirmation, that you’ve adjusted, that you’re ready for him to move.

Your hand curls against his hairy chest as you find yourself quickly wanting more.

“Move.”

It’s sudden.

“Please, more.”

Brahms doesn’t need to be told twice, although he’s still gentle at first. Gentle until you’re throwing your hips back against his, bucking into his hand.

The gentle administrations now are so different from before, downstairs, but it’s nice, no, wonderful, in its own right.

While you moan Brahms’ name and ask him for more, he grunts and pants almost silently above you, only occasionally giving you words of praise, saying that he loves you, that he loves being with you.

A kiss ends your kisses, now muffled by Brahms’ mouth as his hand strokes you, thumb rubbing the head of your cock and pushing you closer to the edge.

He hits your prostate, and that’s the end of that.

The moan that leaves your throat is eaten by the kiss, but your cum fills his hand, and stains your chest as you shudder with pleasure.

Brahms only manages a few more thrusts of his own before spilling inside of you.

You’re hot, sticky, and satisfied.

“I’ll...have to change the sheets,” You say dumbly as Brahms finally pulls out.

There’s only a few moments of noncontact as Brahms pulls out, and makes himself comfortable in bed. As soon as that’s finished he’s pulling you to him and on your side, spooning you lovingly, beard tickling the back of your neck.

All you need is to catch your breath.

After that you know there’s still things you and Brahms need to talk about.

You need to talk about what happened with the role play.

You need to make sure there’s no doubt in Brahms’ mind that you’re not mad at him.

“It’s fine,”

Brahms makes a soft noise into your neck. It’s clear he doesn’t really believe you, and so you continue.

“I just thought it would be fun, it’s not serious.” You continue, pressing your back more against him.

The whole concept of it all is kind of funny, in retrospect.

“It was just a fantasy...you know?” You feel Brahms shift before the gentle feeling of lips pressing into your shoulders and neck.

“I know you’d never hurt me,” Because he wouldn’t.

Brahms was capable of hurting people.

He’d hurt someone if it meant protecting you both.

But he’d never hurt you.

You have the utmost faith in him.

“But it’s hard to not think about, knowing you were in the walls for so long...watching.”

Brahms makes a soft hum into your neck. He still doesn’t really get it, and you can’t say you blame him, despite your best efforts to explain the kink.

“It’s not important.”

You reiterate, “I love you, and I’m not mad.”

More nuzzles into your back, and more tickles from the beard rubbing against your neck.

The affection hopefully means that Brahms is feeling better, less guilty about what he believes to be him ruining the night.  

“Safe words are there for both of us.”

Next time you’ll both be more prepared.

Maybe this happening was a good thing.

“If something was wrong, if you felt uncomfortable with it, or if I did...Or if either of us just wanted to stop...That’s why they’re there.”

“Right, but I…” “No,” You don’t let him finish whatever self depreciation he was starting with.

“Don’t start with that,” You wiggle and squirm your way into facing Brahms.

He’s bashful. It’s cute.

Although he stares back at you, you can see the color in his cheeks, and the uncertainty in his eyes.

“If things were reversed, would you be angry at me for stopping?”

His eyes widen just a little, and you see him shake his head quickly.

“Of course not…”

Even today he’d stopped because he’d truly believed your performance. He thought you were scared, or hurting, and he couldn’t continue without confirmation you were really okay.

So...naturally…

He would never be upset if you needed, or wanted to stop.

That’s kind of what makes it click in his mind, guilt dissipating.

“So you don’t hate me?” Now that he’s feeling more confident it’s asked mainly in jest, a small smile on his face.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

Getting up from the bed you offer a hand to him.

“Come on, we both need a bath.”

It’s true, you can feel cum starting to drip down your ass and onto your thighs.

Brahms nods.

Really, you don’t have to tell him twice.

He doesn’t like being dirty.

His time in the walls, before you knew he was there, before he was able to move around the house freely, shower freely, was hell.

The water begins to fill the tub as Brahms goes through the cabinets looking for something, bubbles.

You raise an eyebrow as he brings the bottle over, grinning a bit childishly.

“Bubbles?”

He nods, undeterred by your skepticism.

“Bubbles are romantic.”

That’s…

Well you can’t argue with that.

Pink liquid pours into the tub below, and the water becomes soapy, full of bubbles.

A sweet smell has begun to take over the bathroom.

“Brahms!”

Water splashes to the floor as he enters the tub, laying back, and making himself comfortable.

“What?” He doesn’t seem to mind the fact he’d just made a wet mess.

You roll your eyes.

It’s all you can do.

After all more water begins spilling from the tub as you enter yourself, getting comfortable before you’re forcibly pulled to Brahms’ chest.

“Hey!” You pout up at him. “I was comfortable.”

You’re comfortable like this too; back pressed against Brahms’ hairy chest, while his arms hold you gently but firmly.

It’s nice, you could fall asleep here like this, in a warm embrace, in warm bubbly water.

“Do you still love me?”

Brahms is resting his chin on your head, not looking at you, but straight ahead as he holds you.

The question takes you a bit by surprise, but you just lean more into his hold.

“With all my heart Brahms, with all my heart.”

[crystalk17]

Interactions Between all of the Sides/ Mouse of a Time

This chapter is more about the interactions and relationships between the sides. Explaining how all of them feel about each other. I know kind of boring, but it is needed to understand what is going through Virgil’s head. I promise Virgil being a mouse is in here, but not till 3/4ths in. 

MasterPost! See other Chapters! Click here! 

Warning: Scenes of talking down about people when they are not present, talking about getting rid of people. Brief interaction of a dog and mouse at the end. 

 Virgil's actions from that day on were oddly noticeable. Before Virgil could stand to be around the other Sides, in human form, but it seemed like anymore the slightest, little thing would set him off. There was even one day the Sides and Thomas were all sitting in the dining room. It started off normal. Breakfast. If anyone asked Thomas he would always say Breakfast and Saturday night was one of his favorite times in this house because those points seem to force all five of the housemates to be in the same room. Patton was standing by the stove top making Pancakes; Logan was looming over him to make sure Patton didn’t catch anything on fire while Thomas and Roman were at the table.

“I am telling you Thomas everything is finally coming together in the mindscape. We don’t even seem to have the dark sides intruding as much anymore.” Roman was leaning back in his chair with only two legs on the ground, his own feet up on the table. Thomas leaned over and pushed the chair back onto the ground a bit aggressively to get the idea to Roman to stop leaning back and to get his boots away from where they eat.

“Well you never know when they will start intruding once more. You have to make sure you're prepared for when they do show up again.” Thomas explained sitting back in his own chair glaring at Roman to make sure he gets his earlier message.

Virgil just appeared in the purple smoke in the living room, stretching his arms above his head. He was wearing an oddly soft-looking ensemble that was pure black with splatter paint purple all over. He knew Patton was rubbing off on him, here was a perfect example. Before entering Virgil made sure to stop outside of the archway so he could cover his mouth from a yawn he could feel coming once more and then rub his eyes. He wasn’t one to make himself look perfect, unlike someone, but he didn’t want to appear like he just woke up.

"Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. You do not have to worry. If any of those dark betrayers come around then, we will handle them. You need to stop being so concerned all the time.”

Unlike the other Sides Thomas could just feel Anxiety in the other room. He could probably hear everything Roman was saying, especially since he wasn’t the most quiet. “ Look, Roman. You don’t have to protect me from the others, just make sure you are prepared for when they show up. They live in the Mindscape too, and none of us have the right to push them out.”

Virgil knew he should have entered at that moment, especially just to shut that pompous prince side up, but his legs wouldn’t allow him to just walk in. In truth all of them knew by now he used to be one of those “dark betrayers” Roman was talking about. In reality he wasn’t even a full light side yet, so he had no room to talk. No home. No identity. Just the creator’s fears and anxiety.

“Roman. You know Thomas nor us have the ability to “banish” the dark sides to someplace else.” Logan was obviously placing his input into the conversation where it wasn’t needed. Again. Virgil peered in just a bit, noticing Logan making air quotes on the word banish using his fingers. “ We all know Thomas needs all us present, even if we are all not...helpful. We make up Thomas so getting rid of a dark side would get rid of a piece of Thomas.”

“Well all I have to say is not all Sides are needed. You say there all important, but I can see him being better off without...some pieces. I think he could still function.” Roman expressed his opinion on the situation just rolling his eyes and placing his arms behind his head.

The emo side honestly couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t...particularly enjoy the other dark sides, but this was just ridiculous. He marched in and just sat down without even acknowledging Roman in the room. When he sat down in “his seat” the room went quiet. He could tell the others knew exactly what they said wrong.

The heart side walked over, a bit oblivious to the whole situation, and set a plate in front of Virgil with two pancakes already ready for him. “ I wasn’t sure if you were coming to join us this morning, so I saved you some food!” he then was nice enough to pour some syrup onto the pancakes for Virgil.

Virgil looked up at him with a small smile, nothing too noticeable, unless you were Patton saying thank you.

Virgil immediately started to dig into the food provided for him. While he sat back chewing his first bite he just happened to look over in Roman’s direction. He could tell he was off. He could only think of one thing. “ Good.” He wanted the pompous jerk to understand he did say something offending. The surprising part was...he actually felt bad. Virgil could tell by the way he was now sitting in his seat not so straight, not making eye contact with Virgil, and just eating. This may seem like normal behavior, but for the creative side acting normal was off behavior.

Thomas looked between the two, just shaking his head. He was even tired of the behavior between these two. He would rather have an outright “debate” between Logan and Roman than the tension and stress these two caused out of nothing. “ Alright. I have an audition to go to today. Can I seriously not trust you guys here alone?”

Roman seemed to forget about the whole situation, perking up at just the word audition. “ I can’t believe I almost forgot about that!” The prince stood up and placed a leg on the chair raising his hands in the air. “ Beetlejuice. How could I forget? You have been practicing those songs and the scene we put together will be perfect today!”

Virgil was in the middle of chewing another piece of pancake when he herd Roman’s explanation. He honestly choked. He grabbed the cup of Orange juice in front of him, not caring if it was his and drank the whole thing to get the food down. “ Did...did you just say Beetlejuice(TM)?”He couldn’t stop looking between Roman and Thomas.

“ Yeah. It’s not a big performance, some small theater...but Roman said it sounded like fun. I’m not trying out for the character of Beetlejuice(TM), but I am trying out for the character of Adam.”

That made more sense to the dark-colored side, but...Roman suggested trying out for this? He was now staring over at the Creative side.

“Don’t look at me like that. I figured...try something different. Plus if it was something you enjoyed then you wouldn’t screw up Thomas’s chances during the audition.” Roman just shrugged his own shoulders then began eating his share of the pancakes Patton made.

“Ok what is he playing at?” Virgil asked himself while glaring over at Princy.

Logan watched the whole interaction between the two and stepped in the best way he could think of. “ So back on the subject we were discussing earlier what are we going to do about the problem of the Mindscape having animals?”

Now it was Thomas’s turn to look at the others confused. Logan pushed his glasses up and continued to talk.

“ Roman, Patton, and I were discussing what it meant when a mouse was found in the mindscape. We came...well, I came to the conclusion it could only mean one of two things.”He straightened up his tie, obviously just showing off but trying to disguise his movements as grooming. “ Either the rodent means there is another Light Side around or the mind Scape has a leak. Roman and I were talking about what it would mean if there was another Light Side and I came to the conclusion this could not possibly be the option, because why would they not appear to us as human, but that does not explain the existence of other creatures in the Mindscape beside us.”

Virgil keeps looking ahead. So many things were going through his head. Especially one thought. “ Did he seriously come to all these conclusions just from talking to the others within a few days?”

“From deductive reasoning and plain observation the creature seems to act more...well like a creature than one of us. So what exactly are we to do with this information?” Logan went on with his rambling to the others. Like usual not getting right to the point. That was until Roman cut in cutting him and Virgil’s thoughts off.

“Why do we even have to think this much into the situation? It’s a mouse. There is no other Light Side in the Mindscape. We would have found his presence by now. Meaning it’s just a mouse. A creature that doesn’t belong. So just get rid of it.” Virgil could tell there was a hint of the cat coming out with that statement.“ it shouldn’t be too hard of a task.”Roman continued to eat like what he just said meant nothing to him.

Patton immediately dropped the plate he was holding then jumped in between Roman and Logan. “ No! You can’t. It’s probably confused and scared. We just need to capture it then set it free.”

“ Patton” Logan shook his head.“ It came from the Mindscape. We can’t just let it go.”

Virgil slammed down the fork he had in his hand a bit too hard causing all the Sides and Thomas to look at him. “ Sorry... I’m heading to my room.”The anxious side got up making the chair skid backward across the tile. He could just feel all of Sides looking at him in some way or another. He quickly placed the plate in the sink, trying to disappear. Before he made himself disappear he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked behind him and Patton was standing there, supper close, trying to get him to calm down. “ Look if it’s what Roman said earlier. He didn’t mean to.”

Virgil turned around to look straight at the kind side. “ Hey. I’m good. Honestly, I just used a bit more force then I intended to. I’m good.”He noticed Patton at this point was doubtful about what he just said, but smiled anyway.

“ Then stay out here with us!”

Virgil looked over towards Roman. Neither knew exactly what the others' intentions were right now or why the other was on edge. “ I’m good Pat. I’ll meet up with ya later.” Virgil disappeared in a smoke of purple to return to his room.

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The purple side was wandering around. He knew the sides were occupied with Thomas, so he took this opportunity to look into things himself. In all honesty if the red and white side could talk so freely about “how he felt” when there was a possibility of Virgil walking in, what did the others really feel about the situation when he wasn’t around. In all truth he knew this was the worst idea he could have come up with. The logical side already had the others notified of a mouse’s presence, Thomas was already on edge with the whole situation trying to seem indifferent and Roman... let's not talk about him now.

After what the others called moping in his room for about an hour...now thinking about it maybe an hour and a half, he willingly transformed into his animal. He was honestly getting better at doing this on command, it was when he was nervous that he still couldn’t control it. It even got to the point where he could transport himself between the mindscape and the real world like this.

The black and purple mouse appeared right in the living room. (Ok maybe he still had some practice, this is not where he wanted to be.)

Virgil looked around frozen. He was not sure exactly where the other sides were, but this was not the ideal place he wanted to land. He leaned his body up, so he was on his hind legs, his whiskers and nose were straight up. His nose and whiskers twitched very suddenly trying to listen or smell for anything nearby. There didn’t seem to be. The mouse fell back on all fours,  scurrying close to the wall.

“You know if I’m going to keep this up, maybe I should make holes in the wall. Probably should ask Thomas first though.”Virgil honestly didn’t know if this thought was happening because of the form he was in or if he was actually thinking this through.

Virgil made sure to follow the wall until he got to the openings that lead to doors or archways. When he had to cross these, he made sure to look around, freeze, then allowed his nose to twitch a bit to make sure the coast was clear. When nothing was sensed, he then proceeded to look around, just in case and ran for cover. With this repeated process it took him forever just to cross any expanse, but he was safe. That was all he could think about. It honestly took Virgil fifteen minutes just to cross the living room, since he wasn’t used to being in the real world like this. Not too often anyway.

He scurried towards the kitchen curious why any of the sides would possibly still be in here. He peeked in slowly, only allowing his nose to poke in then the rest of his head. Inside was Thomas and Roman. “ Where were the other two?” he thought to himself.

The selfish side was sitting on the computer going through something. The anxious mouse didn’t know. He did seem aggravated. Thomas was pacing back and forth. “ I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t do the same song someone else is singing in the auditions.” Virgil could feel Thomas was in distress. He could feel his body reacting by shaking and getting upset like he was. He must have been close enough to sense the anxiety going through Thomas.

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. You need to calm down. We will find another perfect song for you to use. You know the lines by heart. We don’t need you summoning in...someone else. He just won’t help the situation. We have this under control.”

Virgil glared over at Roman, but let up when he could see Roman was just as distressed.

Thomas froze as soon as the expressive side uttered those words. He walked behind a dining room chair that was next to Roman. He leaned on the chair’s back and looked toward Roman.

If Virgil was human, he would be grinning from ear to ear at Thomas’s reaction, but all he could do was watch.

The stare down from his creator was finally felt. He looked up from the computer screen to see why Thomas had stopped pacing. He closed the laptop when he saw the glare he was receiving. “ What? Honestly?”

The odd colored mouse wanted to so badly scurry out there and slap Roman but refrained for obvious reasons. He then watched a figurative arrow pierce through Roman’s head, resulting in the creative side to lean back in his chair with an “oh” face just plastered visibly. “ Look I didn’t... I mean...Ughhh!”

Thomas didn’t even have to say anything at this point.

“ Look. It’s instinct alright. I don’t mean to come off like that...it’s just something just naturally comes out.”

Virgil just rolled his eyes, scurrying on past the kitchen. He figured Thomas would go on about the topic at hand and really didn’t want to linger. He went back towards the hallway, just to see if one of the other sides were present. He wasn’t one to snoop. He really wasn’t. He would feel bad if Patton found out he was wandering around just trying to listen to conversations, but what else was there to do. He didn’t want to go back just yet.

He ran down the corridor a bit more freely. He knew Roman was occupied and so far there was not even a sign of another side present, maybe they were in the Mindscape? He instinctively sat up, rubbing at his face with his paws just a bit. He honestly didn’t know why he did half the actions he did in this form, maybe he would ask Logan about it later. Oh. Wait.

When he was finished with his “ grooming, ”he decided to turn back and make his way back toward Roman. Maybe Thomas was done lecturing him now. He fell back on all fours to continue on his way when he felt the heart's presence. Virgil was confused. Why did he just feel the presence of another side? Usually, the sides could only do that if Thomas was having a full-blown emotion, like if Thomas was having an anxiety attack or just so anxious his emotions were out of control, then the other three would be able to sense him. If they really concentrated on one particular one then it would also work. This was different. It was like the emo mouse could just feel the presence of an approaching Heart. Only really Thomas could just feel an emotional presence.

Virgil turned around full of confusion. His nose twitched and he was frozen. He couldn’t move. A Golden retriever came bounding down the hallway like he was chasing something, maybe a ball he missed. Virgil didn’t know. Why was it always in this hallway that he was caught?

[psychosistr]

A Playful Spark- Chapter 3, Adulthood Pt.1

Summary: When Elmo fully hits puberty during his teenage years, some things come to light that make growing up much harder for him. Thankfully he still has Jack to support him, but how will the toy maker react when the electrically inclined rodent confesses a deep secret to him?

Notes: Warnings for this chapter: It does involve domestic abuse and period-typical homophobia. Also, some mentions of pedophilia in this chapter, but it’s just Jack talking about how disgusted he is by that sort of thing and providing a reason for why he wouldn’t date a seventeen year old XP

-First Chapter-

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

~Age 23~

*knock* *knock* *knock*

Jack groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore the knocking at his door.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

If he ignored it long enough, it would probably go away..

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

“Alright, already, I’m comin’! Geez!” He yelled in the direction of his front door as he finally, begrudgingly, sat up on his couch. He’d had a late night at the toy shop and ended up crashing on the comfy cushions as soon as he’d gotten home. Looking at the clock told him that it was nearly two in the morning and he was irritated over being woken up after less than two hours of sleep. He stood up with a yawn and stretched his stiff joints before walking to the door. He didn’t even bother looking through the peep-hole to see who it was as he opened the door, too busy rubbing his eyes. “Dude, do you have any idea what..time…it..” His irritated question trailed off when he saw who was standing at his door. “Elmo?”

Blinking the sleep-induced fuzziness from his eyes confirmed for him that, yes, it was indeed his best friend standing at the door of his apartment at two in the morning. The poor teen looked like a literal drowned rat, his button-up shirt and pants soaking wet from the rain that had started shortly after Jack got home. His head was tilted down and his shoulder-length hair was just as wet as his clothes and plastered to him, hiding his face from the duck in front of him.

“Can..Can I stay here tonight, Jackie..?” Elmo’s voice came out small, meek, and almost afraid- a tone that Jack had never heard from the normally self-confidant boy, even when he was bullied or beaten up by the kids in school.

Jack frowned, wanting to ask what happened to put his friend in such a state, but he decided that questions could wait until the other boy was no longer in danger of catching hypothermia.

“Considering I’m not a completely heartless jerk- yeah, you can.” He stepped aside so Elmo could come in.

The next hour passed in a tense silence as Jack helped Elmo get cleaned up. He let Elmo use the shower to warm himself up while he pulled out some of his spare pajamas for the other to wear and threw the rat’s soaked clothes in the dryer. He grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from his closet and set them up on the couch to make it a bit more comfortable to sleep on, the pair more than used to random sleepovers by now (though usually under much nicer circumstances).

By the time Elmo exited the bathroom, his fur and hair slightly fluffed from the static-rich towels Jack had in there and changed into the pajamas Jack left for him, he had the couch made up into a make-shift bed.

Turning around to greet the kid made Jack’s words die in his throat, however, when he finally got a chance to see the teen’s face: He was covered in bruises dark enough to be seen through his short fur. The most prevalent ones were around his neck, looking like someone had gripped him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. There were slightly lighter bruises along his cheeks, on his long nose, and, most notably, the big one on his left eye that was swelling into a full-blown black eye.

Elmo must have noticed Jack’s wide-eyed stare, because he suddenly looked down and shifted uncomfortably. “……”

Jack frowned at the reaction, knowing that whatever happened must have been really bad to make the rodent so skittish. Looking at the couch he’d made up, Jack got an idea and suddenly took everything off of it- the blanket, the pillow, the throw pillows, and even the cushions. He then walked past Elmo to his bedroom and proceeded to strip everything off of his own bed and carry the assortment of sheets, blankets, and pillows into the living room with him.

Grinning, he tossed everything from his bed down to join the pile on the floor. He then went over to the kitchen area of his living space and grabbed a few clips he used for chip bags, the two chairs from his small (and mostly unused) dining table, and a package of chocolate chip cookies.

Elmo gave him a confused look as he watched the duck bring everything over to the pile in the living room, tilting his head as he watched Jack begin to pin the sheets together with the clips.

To answer his friend’s confused stare, Jack just grinned and held up the sheets. “C’mon, Mo- ya still remember how to do this, right?”

He could tell that the confused rat was about to ask what he meant, but then the look of realization finally dawned on his face when he saw Jack finish with the sheets and push the small coffee table aside before putting the two chairs in its place with a foot or two of space between them.

A small smile appeared on Elmo’s face and he nodded. “Yeah, I think so..”

He helped Jack make sure the chairs were in the proper place before they spread the pinned-together sheets out to form a curtain-like tunnel that went over the back of the couch, straight out in front to rest briefly over the chairs, and then ended up tucked around behind the TV so it was still viewable within the tunnel they’d formed- for good measure, they even tucked the sheet on the other end beneath the couch’s feet to make sure it wouldn’t droop. The pair then crawled inside through an opening in the sheets near the sofa and arranged the various stuffed objects into a comfortable cushion nest with the sofa cushions propped up against the couch so they could sit up comfortably.

Once everything was setup inside, Jack crawled back out to grab the last of their necessary provisions for the night. Namely the TV remote, the cookies he’d grabbed earlier, two cups of milk from the kitchen, and, as an afterthought, he grabbed an icepack from the freezer and wrapped it in a washcloth. He handed everything to Elmo through the entrance before joining him inside again and the two got comfortably situated in their blanket fort.

Jack picked a channel that he knew played bad sci-fi movies late at night and opened the pack of chocolate chip cookies for them to split. The two friends were soon engrossed in a bad killer-robot movie with Elmo pointing out how scientifically inaccurate the details on the robot were while Jack talked about a design he’d come up with for a toy robot. After they polished off their chocolatey desserts and drained their glasses, Jack held the icepack up to Elmo with an understanding smile, one that offered sympathy without prompting for a story just yet.

Elmo took the icepack with a sigh and placed it over his swollen eye. He hissed slightly from the contact at first, but relaxed soon enough.

After a while longer of watching bad movies, he heard Elmo say something so quiet that it was almost inaudible over the sound effects from the TV. “Hey..Jackie..?”

Jack turned his head to look at the other boy beside him. “What’s up, bud?”

“……” Elmo looked down slightly, hesitating before he spoke again. “…Thanks…”

Jack just smiled at his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding the teen against his side comfortingly. “Eh, don’t mention it.”

They smiled at each other before nestling back into the cushions to get more comfortable as they watched another movie. Jack pulled the blankets he’d stashed inside the fort earlier up to cover them as a general feeling of sleepiness and contentment settled over both of them. Half-way through the film, he heard soft snoring beside him and glanced over to see Elmo had already fallen asleep. With a tired but affectionate smile, Jack turned the TV off and pulled the blankets up a bit higher over both of them before falling asleep as well.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Jack didn’t wake up until well past noon the next day. Thankfully, it was his day off from the shop, so he didn’t have to freak out about running late.

Feeling a weight against his side, he looked over to see Elmo still curled against him as the rat slept. Examining him in the dim daylight that filtered in through the sheets, Jack took the chance to quietly examine the boy’s injuries. The swelling in his eye had gone down a bit thanks to the ice pack, and some of the lighter bruises seemed to be healing a little as well, but would probably take more time.

Looking further down, he noticed that Elmo was gripping Jack’s shirt tightly in one of his hands as he slept. He seemed almost afraid to let go…

Jack frowned a little again at the boy’s subconscious behavior. Elmo may not have been physically strong in any sense of the word, but the kid always had a tough spirit. No matter how he got bullied or kicked around throughout middle and high school, he’d always kept a brave face and said that things weren’t that bad. THIS, though, whatever it was, was bothering him on a subconscious level and that worried Jack greatly.

Shaking himself out of his melancholy thoughts, Jack gently placed a hand on Elmo’s shoulder and gave it a light pat. “Hey, Elmo, wake up- let’s get some breakfast!” He spoke softly enough to avoid startling the still-skittish rodent, but raised his voice just enough to be effective.

Elmo groaned slightly and slowly opened his eyes, having trouble opening the blackened one all the way. “More like lunch by now..”

Jack shrugged. “Time is a man-made construct, pal.” He grinned excitedly. “So that means if we want pancakes after 12:30, then we can sure as hell have pancakes!”

Elmo released the grip he had on Jack’s shirt so he could rub at his non-bruised eye. “Fine, but don’t drown mine in whipped cream- I know how you cook.”

“You mean with style, flare, and great taste? I completely agree!” He joked as he gave the rat’s hair a quick ruffle before slipping out of the blanket fort to make breakfast.

To his pleased surprise, Elmo followed him and helped him pull out the ingredients for the pancakes. They worked together as perfectly as they always did when they set their minds to something, able to pass ingredients and tools back and forth without needing to ask for anything at all. This left them free to talk about the movies they watched the previous night and make jokes about the bad effects in so many of them.

While waiting for the pancakes to cook on the stovetop, a thought occurred to Jack and he briefly crawled back into the blanket fort to retrieve the icepack from the other night. He stuck it in the freezer so it could get cold again and, on his way back to the stove, he saw Elmo watching him.

Deciding now would be as good of a time as any to rip the metaphorical Band-Aid off, he asked the first thing that seemed safe. “How’s the eye? Any better?”

Elmo shrugged, avoiding eye contact again. “Kind of…”

“Hm, guess that’s better than it feelin’ worse.” He conceded with a shrug as he picked up the spatula again. Jack idly lifted the corners of the pancakes to check them, giving him an excuse not to stare at Elmo as they talked and providing the younger boy with some comfort. “So, something happen at school? Just give me a name- you know I’m not above scarin’ the shit out of teenagers.” He said with a smirk.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elmo lean against the kitchen wall with a small smile. “No, it’s nothing like that this time..” His smile fell slowly as he swallowed down a lump in his throat. “I just..I, uh..” He took a deep breath and sighed it out heavily, apparently trying to gather his nerve before he continued. “I kind of- that is, I just..well, I said something stupid and dad..he..he got kind of mad at me.”

“What?!” Jack’s eyes widened in shock and he nearly dropped the spatula, managing to catch it at the last minute before it hit the ground. Once he set the utensil safely back down on the counter, he turned so that he was fully-facing his friend. “Your DAD did this to you?!”

He was…well, shocked would be a gross understatement. Sure, he had never really had any super-long conversations with Mr.Sputterspark, but, from what he could tell, the guy didn’t SEEM like the kind of man to just snap and beat the crap out of his kid for no reason. Maybe he missed some signs or something?

A dark feeling bubbled up inside of him as a single thought crossed his mind: Had this happened before?

He’d known Elmo and his family for thirteen years- the thought that he’d somehow missed signs of this happening to his best friend before terrified and infuriated him at the same time.

“Yeah..” Elmo’s quiet voice brought Jack out of his thoughts that were quickly spiraling into something darker due to his brain conjuring up images of the young rat in pain. “It’s not a big deal…was my fault, anyway..shouldn’t have said anything..” He was looking at the ground, speaking more to himself than to Jack at that point.

Jack’s eyes set in a firm glare and his mouth formed a scowl as he turned back to the stove briefly, moved the frying pan with their pancakes off the burner, then walked over to Elmo to place his hands firmly on the rat’s shoulders. His friend jumped slightly from the unexpected contact before looking up at the duck with a startled expression- both from the grip the bird had on his shoulders and the look on his face.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, got it?” Jack said with a steely-firmness his voice never before possessed. At a hesitant nod from the teenager in front of him, Jack said exactly what was on his mind. “What you said doesn’t matter- NOTHING you could’ve said gives him, or anyone else, the right to HURT you! He doesn’t agree with what you said? That’s fine, but HE was still the one who was wrong for putting his hands on you! YOU didn’t do anything wrong- HE did! So don’t you dare go blaming yourself for ANY of this, got it?”

“…” Elmo listened to the older boy with a wide-eyed stare that slowly began to mist over as he processed the other’s words. He nodded at the end of it and wrapped his arms around himself in a self-conscious need for comfort and security. “…So..you wouldn’t get mad at me if I said the same thing to you…?”

Jack shook his head and moved one of his hands off of the mammal’s shoulders to pet the top of his head in a small gesture of comfort. “You’re my best friend, Elmo. You could tell me you were secretly an alien spy or an evil super villain planning to destroy the planet and wipe out all life on Earth and I’d still have your back- hell, I’d help you build the doomsday weapon myself! Promise.” He moved his hand off of the other’s head and held it in front of him with the pinky extended.

Elmo looked at his hand for a moment with a tiny smile before hooking his own pinky around it and giving it a little shake. He let go afterwards and took a deep breath to help him organize his thoughts before he spoke again. “Have you ever thought about, you know, dating someone…other than a..you know..a-a girl..?” He looked away slightly, getting that uncomfortable and nervous look on his face again. “I mean..is it okay to-to..to like a guy the same way you’re supposed to like a girl..? I-I tried asking my parents about it, but my dad he-he got..he got really mad an-nd grabbed me and..and..he..” He swallowed nervously, one hand going up to rub tenderly at his still bruised throat. “He said ‘I didn’t raise any f-fags in this house, so you’d better man up and quit with that fruity way of thinking’…at least, that’s the nice way of putting what he said…”

Jack’s eyes softened in understanding. So that’s what happened…talk about a difficult way to come out of the closet…

“Honestly?” Jack started, earning a slight upwards glance from the rodent in front of him. He paused briefly for dramatic effect before giving the boy a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Yeah. It’s fine to think like that- you can like whoever you want, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or someone else.”

“R-Really?” Elmo asked, a hopeful edge to the tone of his voice.

Jack nodded again. “Yep. At least, for me it is.” He shrugged a little as he continued. “Granted, it’s not always safe to talk about that sort of thing- lot of people are stupid like that, especially adults- but I’ve kinda played both sides of the field by now, if you catch my drift.”

Elmo’s jaw visibly dropped and hung open for a moment before he spoke again. “Seriously? You jerk, you never told me!” He pouted and gave Jack a light punch to the shoulder.

Jack chuckled at the other’s pouty face and shrugged again. “You never asked and I didn’t feel like bragging about my many adventurous conquests.”

Elmo raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. “Really? YOU??”

Jack pretended to look insulted. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know that I am quite a catch!” He winked with a coy smile.

The expression was enough to earn a laugh from the rodent, instantly brightening the mood between them and earning a chuckle from Jack in return.

“So, we’re, uh..we’re not..you know..weird..?” Elmo asked with a shy smile while running one hand through his long brown hair.

Jack laughed at that question, throwing his head back as he did. “Oh no, we are DEFINITELY weird!” He wiped tears from his eyes before giving Elmo a much more reassuring grin. “We’ve got a lot of things that make us weird, Mo…but..this ain’t one of ‘em. If anyone says otherwise, you just come to me and I’ll deal with ‘em.”

Elmo smiled with more confidence as he wrapped his arms around Jack in a tight hug. “Thanks, Jackie..for having my back..”

Jack smiled softly and returned the embrace, patting his friend’s back comfortingly. “Anything for my ‘Partner in Crime’.”

~Age 25~

Jack stepped out of his red sports car after he parked it safely in the spot outside of his apartment complex, walking into the air-conditioned lobby and taking the elevator up instead of the stairs. The shiny car and nice building were a far cry from the beat up old mini-van and cramped apartment he’d started out with a few years ago- a true testament to his financial success.

He had started out small, getting a part-time job in a toy shop and studying under the aging owner as he learned various trade secrets. Over time, he’d begun introducing his own toys to the store’s shelves until he was named partner in the business and, once the previous owner retired, he took over and used the money to expand his ideas. Just like he’d thought, his toys were a huge hit with the kids! It didn’t take long at all for “Quackerjack Toys” to become a household name and for him to move out to a better spot in town closer to his company’s main office.

A lot of things had changed rapidly in his life, especially over the past two years. However, as he reached his floor and pulled out the key to his apartment, he was happily reminded of one thing that stayed the same.

Said thing was casually seated on Jack’s couch, currently drawing up blueprints for his latest science experiment.

Elmo looked up when he heard the door open and gave Jack a quick nod in greeting before looking back at his blueprints. “Hey, Jackie.”

“Hey, Mo.” Jack greeted in return as he shrugged off his brightly colored red and blue jacket and hung it up by the door. “Still working on your static generator?”

“Mhm.” Elmo hummed absently while erasing one of his lines and redrawing it. “I’ve got the prototype set up at school already, it just needs some final adjustments and it’ll be perfect!”

“Heh, cool. Can’t wait to see it.” Jack said before heading back to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes and into his home-clothes (mainly consisting of comfy sweat pants and loose tee-shirts).

Having Elmo at his apartment had become an even more frequent thing over the past two years. Ever since the night his best friend had turned up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, soaked, scared, and abused by his family, Jack had made it a point to always get a spare key for the other to keep with him- giving him the freedom to come over any time he felt lonely or scared or even just bored. The rat had been hesitant at first, saying he didn’t want to bother the duck, but, after MUCH insistence from the older boy, he finally caved in and accepted the key.

Thankfully, Elmo had never come to see Jack in that rough of a state again, but he did still come over sometimes with a bruised cheek or wet streaks in his fur from when he’d been upset earlier. Jack never failed in his quest to help his best friend temporarily forget about his troubles, offering a shoulder to cry on or a funny distraction depending on which was needed more for the current situation.

Admittedly, having someone to talk to about his own romantic preferences was refreshing for Jack, too. Unlike Elmo, he’d never even broached the subject with his own parents, and, more like Elmo, he didn’t exactly have many friends besides the other boy to talk to.

Things were slowly changing in society as time went by, but the general populace was still very vocally against the idea, making it unsafe to openly discuss one’s personal tastes unless you were sure you were among like-minded individuals.

Being the head of an up-and-coming company that catered to children put Jack in an exceptionally awkward spot as well: One bad rumor or public scandal and people would start accusing him of crimes that, honestly, disgusted him to even think about. For now, it was best to keep his relationships a secret from everyone.

Well, everyone except Elmo, of course.

Once Jack was changed into his more comfortable attire, he joined Elmo on the couch by flopping over the length of the cushions with his legs dangling over the armrest and his head landing beside the rodent’s leg so he could look up at the seventeen year old’s intensely concentrated face.

“Hey, Nick-Elmo Tesla,” He joked with a chuckle, earning a hum of acknowledgement. “I’m feeling waaaaaaayy too lazy to cook tonight- you wanna stay for pizza?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sure, sounds good..” The other boy said quietly, still concentrating on his blueprints.

Jack hated being ignored, even if it was indirectly. With a smirk he sat up and grabbed his phone from the end-table. “I’m thinking extra-large with quadruple cheese, half the sauce, with pickled peppers, pineapple, and extra anchovies- sounds great, huh?”

“Mhm, sure..” Elmo didn’t even register the unappetizing combination, instead he just absent-mindedly agreed and nodded along. Jack pouted and turned the phone over in his hand so that the antenna was pointing forward and poked the teen in the side with it, causing him to yelp and finally look at the pouting duck. “Ack! What?”

Jack gave him a dead-pan expression and a raised eyebrow. “You just agreed to a pizza smothered in cheese with pickled peppers, pineapple, and anchovies.”

Elmo at last made an appropriately disgusted face. “I did? Gross!”

Jack chuckled at the expression and smiled a bit. “That’s more like it. You are WAY too into your electricity crap- way more than usual.” He brought his legs up onto the couch and crossed them as he looked at his friend expectantly. “Wanna tell me WATTS up?”

Elmo rolled his eyes slightly at the pun, but finally set the paper and pencil down with a sigh. “It’s just…prom’s this week and my parents keep bugging me about going.” He looked away from Jack with a slight frown. “They keep asking me which GIRL I’m going to take..” The way he emphasized the gender made it very clear exactly how his parents had been pestering him

Jack nodded in understanding with a sympathetic roll of his eyes. “Oof. That’s rough, bud.”

Elmo looked back over at Jack with an irritated sigh. “It’s so stupid- it’s just a dance. Why does it matter who I go with? Or if I even go at all?”

Jack shrugged and crossed his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the cushions. “It’s ‘cause it’s some sort of ‘sacred rite of passage into adulthood’, or some crap.”

“Who’d you go with for yours again?” Elmo asked as he leaned back more comfortably on the couch too.

“Oh, I went with Stacey Storkson- girl from my theater club.” Jack answered, recalling the blue dress the long-legged girl had picked out and the white and blue tux he’d rented. “Neither of us had a date and we got along well enough, so we went together, took a couple pictures, danced like two times, then went home. It was alright, I guess, as far as parties go.” He looked across the couch at the other boy with a raised eyebrow. “So, anyone you’re thinking about taking?”

Elmo frowned and folded his arms. “No, I don’t really talk to any girls..”

“What about boys?” Jack teased with a smirk.

Elmo shook his head in response. “I don’t really get along well enough with any of the guys at school, either…”

“Hmmm..” Jack hummed in thought, idly spinning the phone in his hand as if it were a large pencil. “Well, anyone outside of school you’d wanna take? You know- someone you’d like to ask out on a date or somethin’?”

The rat grew quiet at that, looking down at his lap with an apprehensive expression on his face. “…………”

Jack looked at him with a curious frown, noting how tense the other boy looked. “Elmo..?” He prompted carefully, not wanting to make his friend feel pressured, but genuinely curious and concerned now.

“……” Elmo took a deep breath in and let it out to calm himself, one hand nervously rubbing at his opposite arm. “There..is one guy I-I kind of..like…well, more than ‘kind of like’..that is, I mean..” He groaned, grabbed one of the throw pillows off of the sofa, and buried his face in it, hiding the growing redness that had spread over his cheeks. “..I..think I have feelings for someone…” He muttered through the fabric and stuffing, just loud enough to be heard.

“WhaaaaaAAAAAT?!” Jack shouted excitedly, bouncing from his end of the couch over to Elmo’s with a big smile. “Mo, that’s awesome!” He shook the boy’s shoulder with both hands. “You gotta ask him out!”

Elmo shook his head fervently, clinging tighter to the pillow. “I can’t..”

“Why not?” Jack tried tugging the pillow free from the rodent’s death-grip. “Just take him to prom with ya! It’s fine if he goes to another school- lots of people sneak friends in!”

Elmo frowned when Jack managed to yank the pillow away. “He..doesn’t go to another school..” He looked away, shrinking back against the couch uncomfortably under Jack’s curious gaze. “He-He finished school a while back…”

“A while ba..?” Jack’s questioned trailed off at the meaning of those words: It was an adult. “Elmo..” Jack said with a sudden tone of seriousness as he put a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “He hasn’t tried anything, has he?”

He felt protective fury burning in his chest- the same way it did whenever he saw Elmo hurt or bullied or threatened by someone else. He hated the idea of someone doing anything at all to hurt his best friend and would do anything it took to protect him.

Jack knew from experience that teenage years were already a confusing time for people when it came to hormones, relationships, and sex vs. love, but the whole thing was even worse for people like him and Elmo with so few options available.

In his own search for knowledge about his sexuality, he’d learned that the best sources were adults in less-than-reputable locations. Most of these people were fine to talk to, offering advice and knowledge and understanding that was harder to find in places where the light of society shined much brighter. However, there were always people that preyed upon those confused, attention-starved kids who still didn’t have quite the same grasp on the difference between genuine love and physical attraction.

The thought of Elmo being used by one of those creeps had Jack already mentally planning what weapons to bring and where he could hide a body-

“No!” Elmo’s urgent voice brought him back to the moment at hand as the rat shook his head, avoiding eye-contact with the duck beside him. “He doesn’t- I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s not aware that I..” He took a deep breath before shaking his head again. “He doesn’t know that I like him.”

“Oh, okay..” Jack relaxed his grip on the other’s shoulder, feeling a bit better now that he knew some pervert wasn’t trying to take advantage of his friend. “So, what’s he like?”

“He’s, uh..” Elmo struggled for a moment to find his words. “Well..he’s smart, for starters, a great engineer with a lot of really big and creative ideas. He’s also pretty funny- he makes me laugh a lot.” The look he gave Jack was strange, as if he was looking at him and looking through him at the same time. “He’s really kind and supportive, too…he’s always there for me when I need him…and..and..” He looked away, his face turning red as he managed to say the final piece of his description. “And he’s…he’s m-my best friend..”

Those words hit Jack HARD, making him fall back against the couch as if he’d been physically struck by them.

Wow.

Okay, that…that was a lot to take in…

Jack took a minute to collect his scattered thoughts before he sat back up to look at the nervous rodent on the other side of the couch. “So…” He had to swallow down a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “You’re, uh…You’re serious, huh, Mo..?”

Elmo nodded with a shaky laugh, running an anxious hand through his hair. “Y-Yeah…I am.” He took a deep breath before looking at Jack again. “So…?” He prompted, his face telling the older duck that he was prepared for whatever rejection awaited him.

Jack frowned slightly at the hurt look on the other’s face and ran a hand through his own head-feathers to collect his thoughts.

His best friend just confessed to having feelings for him and was expecting an answer. Unfortunately, he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about the whole situation, himself.

One the one hand, he did like Elmo a lot. He was his best friend and the person who understood and connected with him better than anyone else in the whole world. He had a lot of fun with the guy and, truthfully, he wasn’t that bad in the looks department (even if he was still a bit scrawny). All things considered, if they had been the same age, Elmo was totally the kind of guy Jack would’ve made a pass at by now.

On the other hand, there was the glaring problem that they WEREN’T the same age. Jack was significantly older than his friend and had seen the kid grow up. While it was true that he always thought of the other as his equal and never his junior or something condescending like that, he was still painfully aware of the fact that he was quite a bit older than the kid, as well, and the idea of being with someone who was still, technically, a CHILD grossed him out in ways that made his feathers fluff up, even if it was his best friend.

“Okay, look,” Jack finally said after he got his thoughts sorted, looking at Elmo with a serious expression. “You’re my best friend, Mo, above everything else. BUT, you gotta admit, I’m A LOT older than you.”

Elmo glanced away with a frown and mumbled. “Seven’s not that much..”

“Eight, during the holidays.” Jack added reflexively after many years of jokes regarding how their birthdays fell throughout the year. “Anyway,” He said with a shake of his head to get back on track. “You’re still pretty young and, I get it, things are..kind of weird and confusing right now. I’ve had PLENTY of experience in that department, trust me- it’s real easy to get a crush on someone you’re close to and think it’s love when it’s really just your friggin’ hormones driving you insane.”

That, unfortunately, seemed to be the wrong thing to say, making Elmo’s frown turn into a scowl. “Seriously?” He asked when he looked back up at Jack. “You think that’s all this is? That I’m-That I’m, what? Confused? Stupid? Just that desperate to get it on with someone?”

Jack frowned at the frustrated outburst. “That’s not what I’m sayin’, Mo.”

“Yes it is!” Elmo snapped, his hands curling into fists before he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “You think I’m just another stupid teenager and that I don’t know what love feels like just ‘cause I’m ‘inexperienced’. Well, guess what? This isn’t something new for me: I’ve been thinking it over for at least a year now, and it’s driving me crazy!” The edges of his face softened a bit as he frowned again. “It’s not just a stupid ‘physical’ thing, Jackie..I..I actually want to be with you. It sucks and it drives me crazy, but..but everytime I see you, I just get this..I get this sort of, I don’t know, ‘bubbly’- is that the right word? Do people get ‘bubbly’?- feeling in my chest.” He closed his eyes for a moment to avoid the startled look he was getting from the duck. “I think about you being with other people, or someone messing with you, and I start plotting ways to get rid of them. Then, when I think about what I want out of life, all that really comes to mind is just being with you- working together at your company, coming back here together after work, eating dinner together, then just hanging out or falling asleep next to each other.” He took a deep breath before looking at Jack with pleading, watery eyes. “So..So don’t just tell me it’s because I’m confused or because I’m too young- I’m old enough to know that I..I love you, Jackie..” He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes to stop any tears from falling. “Even if..you don’t feel the same..” He added quietly, so softly that Jack almost didn’t catch it.

“Elmo..” Jack frowned at the absolutely heart-broken tone to his dearest friend’s voice. He hated seeing the boy in pain, and hated even more that he was partially responsible for it. Taking a deep breath himself, Jack moved closer and pulled the teenager into a comforting embrace. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

Elmo looked at him hopefully. “You mean-?”

“Ah, ah.” Jack stopped him before he could finish his question with a shake of his head. “I didn’t say that either.” He put a hand on the mammal’s head and petted him gently in a familiar, soothing motion he’d learned after years of comforting the other boy. “Look, everything you just said..well..I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sound like stuff I’d enjoy doing, too. BUT,” He interjected the word into his statement when he saw the hopeful smile starting to form on the boy’s face and tried to stop it before it got too far. “You’re still too young.” He tapped the rat on his long nose when he was about to say something. “And I don’t mean that in a ‘you’re a hormonal teenager’ way, I mean it in a ‘I could go to jail for looking at you inappropriately and would totally deserve to get the shit beaten out of me by a big guy named Brutus in the showers’ sort of way. Right now, it just feels..wrong and kind of icky to think about you like that, you know?” He reasoned with a slight shudder. “And it’s not because it’s YOU- if I’m being honest here, I’d probably have made a move on you years ago if you were in high school with me- it’s because you’re still considered a KID.”

Elmo frowned a bit and looked back down. “So..that’s a pretty hard ‘no’, huh..?” Jack flicked his forehead with a light glare. “Ow!” The rat rubbed his head and looked back up at the duck. “What?”

“Would you quit puttin’ words in my mouth?” Jack said before his glare eased slightly. “It’s not a ‘hard no’, like you said. It’s more of a ‘no for now, but maybe later’, okay?”

“You mean it?” Elmo questioned, that familiar look of suspicion that showed he felt he was just being placated on his face again.

“Yeah, I mean it.” Jack said, holding his pinky out towards the other in a familiar gesture. “We’ll give it a few years, let you get a chance to try dating other kids your own age and see if anything settles down or changes for you. If you still feel that way once you’re old enough to LEGALLY buy me a drink, then I’ll go out with you. Deal?”

Elmo looked at his hand for a few seconds before bringing his own hand up and hooking his pinky around the offered digit. “Deal.” They shook their joined hands before letting go. After a moment’s hesitation, Elmo spoke again. “Hey, Jackie..?”

“Yeah, Mo?” Jack questioned while he went to retrieve the phone from earlier.

“…We’re..” The rodent frowned slightly. “We’re still best friends…right…?”

Jack blinked and looked at the other with a dumb-struck face. “What kind of stupid question is that?” He reached over and playfully tussled the other boy’s hair with a grin. “Of course we are! No matter what happens- if we go out or don’t go out, if we go out and it works out or doesn’t work out- we’re ALWAYS gonna be best friends. Got it?”

“Got it.” Elmo answered with a relieved smile before snatching the phone from Jack. “Now let’s order a pizza that DOESN’T make me hurl.”

Jack laughed and tried to grab the phone back from him (insisting that his jalapeño and Canadian bacon pizza wasn’t THAT bad), the atmosphere between them cleared and as carefree as ever, much to the pair’s combined relief. They spent the evening eating pizza and chocolate snack cakes and watching a comedy show on TV before Elmo left for home with a casual “see you later, Jackie” while Jack gave a light-hearted “smell ya later, Mo!” in return.

However, if Jack had known that was the last day he’d see his friend, he would have said so much more…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: So, finally hitting some more serious drama in this chapter. Sorry it’s a bit longer than the last couple, but the next one will be a bit shorter before the final chapter.

Also, sorry again if any of the subject matter in this chapter made anyone uncomfortable- anyone who reads my work will see a pattern in which I am incapable of writing characters I like/ship ending up together without going through some sort of pain/drama >_<”

[maddenleague]

I GOT MATSUI!

What is new in your life? Is your girlfriend pregnant? Have you considered Chantix? Did you switch parking spots at work? Did the calendar just flip over to a new month? New sunglasses? Has a recent promotion/demotion at work kept you up at night/let you sleep like a baby? Well, then, if none of these things ring true for you, I’ll get on with it. There are a bunch of new happenings within the tiny, yet wildly complex, world of Madden League. Monumental and life changing events like (inadvisably) bringing life into the world; small swings in momentum like (inadvisably) ending a dry spell [without sex]. Swift upward movement like taking the family out of the dark and into the light; quiet, gentle, mousy footsteps like (inadvisably) getting a dog. Bone-breaking, knee-buckling, marriage-inquiring actions involving a ring, a tower, and tight khakis; a brisk walk across the bridge between being a singularity and being a [new] duality. All these things and more are visible, tangible shifts in mindsets, habits, and emotional acuity of what, at one point, seemed like a group of ten doomed individuals. If life moves forward, then it moves in tandem - at lightspeed - with Yahoo! Fantasy Sports.

Here’s the breakdown of the week:

Shit! Sorry, that's just an emotional breakdown. Here’s the fantasy football four week breakdown:

Equine: of, relating to, or resembling a horse.

I think Austin (Challenge Court) has been atop the Madden League standings as long as Old Town Road was atop the billboard charts. There are so many horses in his stable and the one with the most mileage (Frank Gore, Oh Timeless One) seems to be saddling up for a go at 16 grand. Hold your horses, though, with the second fewest points against, Tonz might be pulling up lame at the 3/4 poll.

Porcine: resembling swine; hoggish; piggish.

I, myself, think that myself, Landon, also known as Oh Bae Hota, has a muddy, sloppy, waist deep, pen full of piggies. They go rootin’ around in the dirt for touchdowns and always come up with all of them. And about the only the person who can ruin my pork party is Melvin Gordon. Fuck him!

Bovine: characteristic of or relating to cows or cattle.

The bell cow for Alan (Shuffle the Dekeler) is NOT JOE MIXON! The bell cow for Alan’s team is still NOT JOE MIXON! The cow, who has the responsibility of leading the other cows to slaughter, is most definitely Chris Godwin. And they be servin’ up fat steaks! Yummy, fat-filled, inch thick, Kobe beef steaks! Side of milk and mayonnaise kind of steaks! New York strip steaks to be enjoyed on the subway in the dead heat of summer!

Pavonine: of or resembling a peacock or the colors.

Birds are inherently terrifying as they are the direct descendants of dinosaurs. However, flightless birds, like the peacock, are direct descendants of Petco goldfish. Moreover a peacock with clipped wings, like a Saquon with one good ankle, might as well be a nearly weightless phytoplankton, floating on ocean currents, waiting to be consumed by a sardine. Good luck, Jared (Gordon Bombay)! Triple deke won’t help you this time!

Feline: of or relating to cats, you idiot.

It’s week 11: the world ended shortly after week 8 as the tension between the muscles in my lower back became too great, the energy from them tearing apart rolled over the surface of the Earth, decimating all living organisms. All LIVING things, mind you. Ashes and downed power lines and felled trees begin to shift and fall aside as Marcus Mariota’s career begins to emerge. Even this emergence, nay, REsurgence, cannot overcome the end of all things; despite an absurd lack of competition on a planet devoid of life, Will (Top Rope TJ) and Marcus Mariota are destined to lose week 11 as a result of bye weeks. - For post-apocalyptic cat inspiration, please watch the first scene in The Book of Eli.

Serpentine: resembling a serpent, as in form or movement.

Emily Wolcott winds her way through the growing group of patrons at Au Cheval, bouncing left and right off of heavily-weighted American male shoulders. She beholds, at the front of the line, the heaviest, weightiest, American male shoulders a person could ever behold: Nick Chubb. Directly behind Nick? Derek Au Goryl (Emily Au Chevalcott). “Derek, my love, what are you doing here?” Emily hisses. He replies cooly, “I came to buy my only hope and my only love, a burger from the best burger place in Chicago.” This is too much to bear for Emily. So she sheds her skin and slides quickly between the drain grate in the floor.

Cervine: deerlike

Chris (Pancake Sandwich) feels the good about the state of his car’s tires in this early Fall climate, despite the obvious worn edges and cracked rubber along the rims. He drives with ease. He drives for fun tonight. Headed out toward the lake for a weekend getaway. The tall, thick trees break through the pants..I mean, the fog, as his headlights reach out ahead of him. As his destination approaches, the roads slow and curves become more frequent, more tempting. He floors the accelerator around the last curve only to find a wide-eyed, terrified and petrified, Tom Brady crouching in the direct middle of his lane. It’s too late. His tires too old. Tom, also, too old.

Anserine: resembling a goose; gooselike

He flap flaps here, he flap flaps there, and still, his webbed feet remain on the ground. Mom Goose and Dad Goose and John Goose and Ron Goose all did a flap flap here and a flap flap there and seem to have left Goff Goose behind for good. If and when, he promises himself, he gets off the ground, he’ll flap flap all over they ass to a championship. For now, though, Goff Goose has no choice but to honk honk away on Noah’s (Ray_Ray20) team.

Murine: Muridae, a family of rodents that include rats and mice.

Narrator: The smell of stinky cheese permeates the air... [Camera pans to six foot tall screenshot of Zack’s fantasy team (Bud Lightyear)]

Leporine: relating to, or resembling a hare.

Jordan Howard straightens one floppy ear. He hears something. Something deep and sonorous, nearly sorrowful. The sound subsides, the ear relaxes, whiskers stop twitching. Sweeping his sunken, unblinking eyes across the dwindling light of the horizon, he snatches a fleeting glimpse of a shooting star. The sizzle and snap of light against the silky black blanket of the night. The noise returns. Deeper. This time a definitive sound of anguish reverberates around his white, furry sound seekers. Jordan can draw but only one conclusion from this strange string of sad musical notes: an alarm clock ring! Its Saturday morning! Test time! Kory (Gina Salamie) opens his eyes...

[fisherfurbearer]

Updates

Well.

It’s my 21st birthday today.

I’ve been very quiet here since winter, but in actuality so much has happened. I’m still sorry for being-here but not-being-here, and vanishing on everyone waiting on art, but it’s really been a whirlwind. Just a real wild ride.

I had this big, rambling post written up, explaining what’s happened so far this year and what’s been going on, but I don’t think it’s necessary really. What matters is that I’ve made it this far. This time six months ago I really wasn’t sure if I’d make it to see today. But. Here I am.

I feel like life has been pretty unrelenting in the past few years, and it never seems to end. Between this post and my last text posts, I’ve had another Break Down due to problems with work and doctors, and it’s been pretty terrifying, but I think it’s going to be okay. We’re not out of the woods and I really need to focus on this right now so I still won’t have time to get back into art (which I do plan on doing!! But it’s really not fair to anyone for me to start up again when I’m still not completely stable) and everything else.

But hey. Even after that recent disaster, I’m still here. I’ve been on much better meds for almost 5 months now, I’ve been figuring out what I want to do with my life, and I have my second wind. Things have been getting a lot better (even though a LOT has also been going wrong, but such is life, and we get through it!) and I’ve been on the right track for several months now. I think I’m truly happy.

I’m still here and so is most everyone else. I figure it’s about time I do an update on everyone, as this is a pet blog after all, and I think it’s best to let everyone know how we’re all doing. It’s been a long time since I really talked about everyone properly, and a lot has happened. So here’s the all-encompassing update on everyone:

INVERTS

I posted about this a bit before, but yes. At the start of July I found that I lost about half of the tarantulas. While I think in general we were doing okay picking up the pieces from everything that happened, not everyone was alright. It’s my fault, and I take responsibility. I don’t care how tough things were, it wasn’t fair to them that I let them go unnoticed for too long. Most of the slings passed away, they got too dry, and the more moisture dependent ones passed away as well, including Boopus, Conte, Lucy, and Cassini.

There is a huge hole in my heart from losing them. I will never let this happen again. I don’t CARE how hard things get for me, I will NEVER let my illness take the lives of the ones I care about ever again. I don’t know if it’s the right decision to continue keeping Ts at all after what happened, but since it did, Jessie and I had a very serious conversation about was has to change if I want to keep the remaining Ts. I’ve spent a lot of time re-working how I care for everyone, and so far, everyone has been recovering VERY well. The remaining Ts are: Agnes, Deckard, Isidore, Montag, Winnipeg, Wilder, Flaveri, Kessler, Kitty, and Turnip. They are all fat and hydrated and doing better. Deckard and Isidore molted successfully, and Winnipeg is deep in pre-molt. Montag had some sort of weird kinda-mites-but-not-mites thing going on, but I got most of them off and they’ve been doing really well for about a month now.

Suffice to say I think everyone is going to be okay. The ones that are here. I do love them deeply and I need to not let my illness get in the way of them. My depression was slowly eating away at everything I loved, including them and my desire and ability to care for them, but I will never let it happen again. No matter what, I’ll do what’s best for them, even if it’s a tough decision.

As for the other inverts...the roaches are all doing very well. Red goblins have had their ups and downs but the colony is big and thriving. I finally have adults again and babies are cropping up once more. My dubia colony is finally stable and they’ve been delightful waste disposals for all the ugly peppers and bolted greens from our poor little garden. The rothi, the Original Dig Sons, are STILL kicking. I thought the female was gone but she cropped up again and is as gigantic and cute as ever. They’re chubby and happy and digging like champs. The little kenyans are also doing well!! I’m moving them in with the dubia and they seem to thrive with them. Everyone is peaceful and passive to one another, and by being in the bigger colony they have much more space and food options than before.

All in all, the inverts are recovering and doing okay. I also have thriving isopod cultures in the geckos’ vivs, and they’re doing very well! Lots of orange P. pruinosis in there.

REPTILES

Vladimir and Estragon are doing WONDERFULLY. After the fire I was very worried about the smoke, but both geckos have been perfectly fine and very active and healthy, especially as the weathers warmed up. Estragon is exploring all the time now, and has recovered well after all the stress of moving around so much earlier this year. As I type this he’s climbing the glass of his viv and mleming the air. He’s such a little man and I love him. I’ve been watering the vivariums properly again and they’ve been exploding with growth! Not all the plants made it but the ones left actually need trimming, they’re growing too fast!! The local pet place has lots of vivarium plants available actually and I got a couple that I’m going to plant in the empty spots for the boys. So right now the vivs definitely look a little wonky, but it’s nothing we can’t fix, and the boys themselves are doing GREAT. They lost a little weight after all the chaos, but Gogo is a good chunky boy and Didi is doing awesome too!! Eating lots and he even catches the loose roaches that have been living in the leaf litter, which is pretty cool to watch and great enrichment for him. My little men have been doing so good and I’m so happy that we’re all okay. <3

MAMMALS

Before the fire, I had recently gotten my very first rats, which was a huge deal on here, if any of you remember that!! Java, Lisp, and Python have been thankfully 100% okay after the fire, and have suffered 0 smoke injury! They were farther from where it happened, but there was definitely some smell in my room but now, eight months later, I think it’s safe to say that they’re unaffected. The rats are doing GREAT. They get pampered every single day by everyone here, and my roommate LOVES them. Even when I couldn’t take care of them, he’d feed them and squish them daily, which was a huge help while I dealt with all the craziness. I’m getting back into the routine and taking over their care again, but I can’t thank him enough for his help.

The rats are now THE BIGGEST BOYS and Java is the BEST bean!!! He went from peeping and running away when we first got him to bruxing like CRAZY whenever we hold him and he loves being squished. I don’t know why. They all just love being held and squished and Lisp has some really unsettling Extreme Happy Boggles when we do it, he loves being crushed. (Not that we actually “crush” them, just gently pretend to squish them with our hands while joking about squashing them into pancakes)

They get so much love every single day, and they’ve been one of the best things to ever happen to us. Unfortunately since moving here (and I wasn’t aware of this until the day of move-in, haha, lucky me...) they’ve had to live in the basement which is colder than I’d like and makes it hard for me to care for them, but soon we’re switching to 100% fleece and they’ll be able to live up here with us properly!! I’m so excited about it and it’ll make caring for them so much easier. I’m so excited.

OH and how could I forget. I put off saying this but we DO have a few more pet friends since I last mentioned everyone in December. We bought five little mice into our home many months ago, and their names are Awesome Opossom, Moggles the Mole, Inspector Beans, Bhombus, and Trungalo. They were one of the best things ever, for me. They’re the perfect fit for our lives and they’ve been thriving since we got them. They’re so relaxing and wonderful, and they are incredibly calm and squishy little girls. Sadly, Possie passed away a month or so after she came here (she was almost like a FTT...she was doing so well, then she just...she wasn’t growing like everyone else, no matter what I did, and one day she just. Didn’t make it. We found her snuggled up in her favorite hide in a pile of fleece. No one bothered her. She passed away peacefully.) and she just...she was here for such a short time but she changed everyone’s lives forever. She was the most incredible little thing. She was so outgoing and sweet and when we bought them home she instantly became Nick’s favorite little friend. I’d come home from work and he’d be in the middle of the living room playing with her. He loved her so, so much and even though the mice “are mine” I really think Possie was his. She was a very special little thing and I’m glad she could spend the last of her time with us. She was an incredible little animal.

All in all though...the rodents are doing good. It still hurts my heart that Possie passed away but we did everything we could and we had a special little service for her under the big tree in the backyard, and we will never forget her. I kinda wish everyone here could’ve gotten to know her too. She was really something special.

Otherwise...ahh gosh it feels really sad to say anything else after talking about Possie. She was so, so wonderful, but so are the remaining meecers. Mice are weird. They’re just so small and gentle and wonderful, and I’m really happy to have them with us.

Oh yes!! And there are two more little friends who joined us. I researched getting birds for a few years, and back in mid-April in my area there was a couple having to rehome some of their button quail. They hatched and raised them by hand, and I talked it through with Jessie and we jumped on the opportunity to adopt a pair. It worked out wonderfully for everyone and now it’s been about four months with us and they’re doing fantastic. Their names are Wasabi (male) and Mushroom (female) and they’re an extremely devoted mated pair and we love them. They’re in our front living room and while we don’t/can’t handle them they have become so outgoing in their own way and I’ve learned so much about caring for them over the past few months. They’re very relaxing to care for and any time I slack a bit with anything, they let me know by tapping the front of the enclosure until I investigate and fix whatever’s wrong. It’s actually really helpful and over time I’ve gotten much better and now they hardly ever pace or tap the front, which makes me feel like I’m doing something right. They seem peaceful and spend a lot of their time with each other and bathing in their dirt bath or foraging for treats. c:

All in all, we’re really getting there and have been getting so much better since The Disaster that was winter. The animals are doing great/much better, I’m getting better (although the recent scare is still a drain and I do have to work 12-9 pm today but so it goes...) and it’s going to be alright, I think. And I have a very supportive partner and awesome roommate and friends and I can’t thank them enough for helping me get this far. I wouldn’t be here without them.

Well anyway. Happy birthday to me, I spent way too long writing this and now I need to rush to get ready to work for the rest of the day/night. But so it goes, I’ve been through worse. c;

[waltrp]

HEY, MAX? THANKS FOR LIGHTING THE CANDLE

BIDDI BOPPI BOOP A SPECIAL MESSAGE ADMIN ZULEMA: when i tell you i screamed when i saw this app in our inbox i mean i screamed. I have waited three hundred years for someone to apply for a hocus pocus character so thank you Lex for applying for Thackery. I love the added tidbits you’ve given Thackery in your app. Thackery is one of my favorite characters i’ve written and i’m so excited to see what you do with him and what mischief he’ll get into with the other Hallow Falls residents of Elias. Please refer to THIS PAGE for your next tasks. We can’t wait to roleplay with you. Welcome to our Ohana xx.

It’s a pleasure to meet you…

lex . 27 . pst . ( he / him. )

Three Facts: my favorite breakfast food atm is pancakes, sometimes i use a british accent unprovoked and i’m allergic to vanillA. triggers: rape and physical abuse.

Are you positive you can be active?

I’m being laid off at the end of the week because of a spike!! in the area!! and everything is going back into lockdown i’d rate my activity by the end of this week to be 10 / 10 yikes on bikes

How did you stumble upon Walt?

The tags have been weird lately but I found yall in the town rp tag i i think? !

Did you read the rules?

Indeeddd

Are you sure?

~

Character you want?

Thackery Binks

Please describe the character for us

He’s very forthright in the way he walks and addresses other people, I believe because he’s lived for so many centuries there is a weariness to him. Cursed to be a cat forever, I’m taking he’s like a FAMILIAR, cursed to do the witch’s bidding and can’t stay human on Oct 31st or during a full moon? On Oct 31st Binks is drawn like a magnet to the Sanderson’s home protecing it from prowlers that aren’t virtuous enough for the candle’s ritual. He is borderline cynical and very sarcastic about the world. He wants to breaks his curse but there are no guarantees Thackery can survive if they can reverse it. He is also very resigned to our modern life and technology he struggles to navigate. Unapologetically protective about loved ones. Even in human forn he has catlike traits, such as a special fondness for fish, keeping a clean appearance and a dominant independent persona.

Second character choice

It’s time to see that sample para.

He’d prowled the shadows looming in the gloomy backdrop Hallow Falls. Cursed! Cast away, Thackery witnessed his family sink into a painful madness over losing both their children. They never conceived again, for they were certain the Sanderson sisters had put a curse on the Binks’ name! A pure black cat plagued the town of Hallow Falls, crying that he was Thackery Binks. Of course it was assumed to be a trick of their ears or the wind. Far be it for the treacherous town to be haunted with ghost cats. Year after year, he shrunk in a mildy painful manner to that jet black sly silkiness. No one knew Thackery’s curse ran deeper than feline traits. He was immortal until the curse was broken. When the Sanderson witches spirits were truly gone back to their pit in hell. He’d failed Emily and each year on Halloween it all replayed everywhere as Thackery sauntered to the house where it happened.

“These grounds are hexed I would not tread any further.” He stretched, showing his skinny ebony body in the faded waxing moonlight. The teenagers were positioned in a frozen stance and silent.

“Who said that?” One bravely slurred out looking from side to side, eyes searching the ground for a person, his buddies, pointed to the trees, cocksure the disembodied tone was apart of the branches.

“Please, find somewhere else to disturb the peace, I was settling in for my nap when you lot came around,” Binks held off from hissing, or scaring them off yet, the night was young and guarding the Sanderson home at three am on Halloween could be dull affairs. Not to mention the lecherous behavior they’d been duscussing it was safe to assume they might not be virtuous. Seldom were in the new age. “You are not welcome here, this place is evil and I am fairly certain you do not wish to meet the fate of three very cruel old hags.”

“Up there, dude, it’s a c-cat, it’s talking, look he’s stretching again. It’s bad luck, don’t let him cross your path.”

“Bullshit it was the cat, someone is screwing around with us!” His friend said nudging them on towards the Sanderson home.

“Look it’s staring right at us , watch.”

They stared, intently waiting and Thackery’s tail did all the work, twitching carefully in the night air and his giant almond yellowed eyes gleaming rudely back at the group. The silent staredown didn’t last long, Thackery rose up and hopped down to the cold, autumn leaves. “I do not wish for any issues tonight, there’s nothing here for you and it is too early…”

Binks never got much farther than that, the parties always tripped and hollered over themselves during their escape from a talking cat. No one would believe them.

Thackery had been stuck under the Sanderson house chasing a rat. To this day, Thackery wasn’t sure if the rodent existed. For the candle was lit and he wasn’t able to stop Max in time.

Binx scowled out the window, holding the secret of possibly turning into a literal ghost if he dared to go up against all of the Sanderson sisters. He’d lived a long time and met a lot of people, but selfishly Thackery, didn’t mind being a familiar. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.” He couldn’t bear the disappointment on Dani’s face again as he shot down the idea of reversing his curse to remain either an eternally cursed human or an eternally cursed cat. “The hex is centuries hold, do you not think I looked into saving myself?” He hissed, continuing to plead with Dani to wake up “Their book is bad news, there might be a reverse to it but I do not want it at the cost of you seeing things you don’t want to see.” Dani was the only one allowed to be so close to his heart for she was the echo of Emily to him. Thackery stood up, right about now he was missing the woman he’d met in the city. He couldn’t love anyone with this fate and therefore a luring need to be fussy and agitated grew in Binks. “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s my fault I am like this, it’s just a punishment, meant to last forever. I am going to to take a trip to town, do not follow me, Dani, this has nothing to do with you anymore.”

And his heart broke when she called out for him as he changed from human to a mere beast. Thackery prowled into the night drawn to the Sanderson’s property.

Anything else, love?

~

[littlellamalittlelion]

My Little Baby Llama - Part 11

N/A: I’m sorry it took too long. I can’t write when I’m in bad shape, and trust me, I’ve met my worse these past few months. But I’m back now, and things will get better :) Enjoy the chapter! 

For those of you that might be a bit confused, this fic is happening around the end of January/2016. Before the tour dates release.

Words: 3400+

Disclaimer: Nor Dan or Phil belongs to me, and while I wish I had a Lizzie in real life, I do not have one either.

Masterpost

Dan’s POV

I need Phil. Things get harder when he isn't around. It has been only six hours since he left to his house back in the North, for his birthday celebration with his family, and I already feel like I can't do this alone anymore. The problem isn't Lizzie, she is great, and she is taking things so much better than I thought she would. The problem is me. I don't feel like I am strong enough to deal with everything that is piling up over me if   I'm alone.

I know I shouldn't be codependent on Phil, or anyone else for that matters, but in the middle of the mess that I've been thrown into, I just can't stop feeling that I'm not enough.

I'm not enough of an adult, to be a good single father. I'm not enough of a son, to make sure to keep my mom informed about everything that is happening. I'm not a good professional enough to prepare a world tour by myself while Phil is having a weekend off. And I'm not a good friend enough to let Phil have a weekend off without feeling jealous of him. For the past 20 minutes I've been pretending to be a prince, ready to save it's princess from the beast protecting her castle, but I can't stop thinking that I'm not enough of a prince either, I can't save anyone.

"And booom! You died." Said Lizzie, trowing my prince doll on the floor.

"Wait, what?" I ask, pushing my attention back to our little play.

"You died. You weren't paying attention and the monster caught you." She said, pointing to the monster in our little game stage.

"But who is going to save you, my beautiful princess, from this oh terrible monster?" I make my worst Shakespearean accent, to make her laugh.

"I'm a strong independent princess, I don't need a prince to save me." She said placing her hands in her waist. Clary taught her right.

"So why did you ask me to be your prince, my warrior princess?" I joke, getting up from my sitting state to a one-knee position, to bound to her. Instead of laughing as I thought she would do, she held her head down. "Hey little llama, what's wrong?" I ask, trying to get into an eye to eye position with her, but she made it even harder putting her little hands in her face.

"I wanted you to play with me because you haven't been with me anymore. I wake up and you are not with me in the bed, you're with uncle Philly. When I want to play outside, you don't go with me. When I want to have ice cream, Auntie Louise or Nana takes me out. When I'm hungry, Uncle Philly makes me pancakes. When I need a shower, you tell me that I am a big girl and you don't help me much. Why don't you want to be with me anymore, Daddy? Is it because Mommy died and you don't like me without her?" She asked with her sweet voice, breaking my heart.

"Of course not baby llama. Don't you ever think something like that again. I love you so much, you are my little bottle of light in life, I will always love you and want you around." I pull her into my arms. "Nana, Phil and Louise are just trying to help."

"I don't want their help, I want Daddy." She cries.

"Daddy is right here honey, I promise you that I'll never stop loving you or caring about you."

"So why don't you ever go out with me?"

"I don't know honey. I think I was too afraid of what people would say or do when they found out that you exist. Some of the people that likes me and uncle Phil, they don't actually have their heads in the right place. They want to know our address to wait outside in the streets, wondering around to pretend they were just passing by. They want to invade our privacy and make a huge fuss about it. They don't know you exist yet because if they did know they would probably follow you to school, try to kidnap you just to have a picture with me and Phil, or do something even worse just to post on Twitter that they know where we live and they have pictures with us or something like that. I know it's not fair with you little llama, but I'm scared of them."

"I don't understand Daddy."

"I know you don't, but you will one day, and you'll probably hate me and all of my fans when you do, but right now I just can't make myself trust them with your life, because I don't trust them with mine yet."

"I would never hate you daddy."

"I'll hold you to that in the future." I hug her even stronger and then I let her go. "Now, who wants to watch some cartoons eating popcorn?"

“Can we have some jelly too?” She asked, smiling and getting up from the floor.

“We don’t have any jelly here Lizzie, we can make some tomorrow.” I answer, trying not to make her sad again. “Maybe, maybe we can go out for some ice cream later, what do you think?” That might be my worst idea ever, but the smile in her face makes it worth it. She agrees with her head, starting to pack her toys. “Great! Go put your toys in the box in our room, and I’ll make the popcorn.” She obeys, grabbing everything and running thru the hallway, “Don’t run!” I scream to her, but she is already far. I move to the kitchen to start making us the snack, and my phone rings. It’s Phil on Facetime.

“Hello!” He says, when his face shows up in my phone. “I’m home!”

“Yep, you told me that hours ago in your text.” I answer, placing my phone in one of the cabinets so I could look for the things I needed. “How was the train ride?”

“Crazy! There was this weird kid next to me, I thin she was possessed by a ravenous hamster or something like that.”

“What? A ravenous hamster? Why?” I ask, stopping everything I’m doing, in shock. There are just a few things in life that shocks me, most of them are things that happens to Phil on a daily basis.

“Well, she was eating cheese, non-stop, while making weird rodent noises. And she used her knuckles to push food from the back of her teeth to the front of her mouth. I’m telling you, she was possessed.” His face was priceless.

“So, what scared you the most? The rodent noises of the non-stop cheese eating?” I ask, returning my attention to the popcorn on the microwave.

“The cheese eating, for sure.” He laughs. “So tell me, what have you two been doing since I left?”

“Well, we watched some cartoons, played a bit, Lizzie spread cream cheese all over your bed, now I’m making some popcorn to watch some movies. You know, same as always.” I joked, but with a serious face, trying to prank him a bit.

“CREAM CHEESE? You’re gonna clear it! I don’t care if you were the one to do the laundry, you’re gonna wash it.” He was mad.

“I’m joking Philly. You’re bed is safe from the white creamy mess, don’t worry.” I laugh.

“Safe from ALL white creamy mess? You know, I’ll be mad if I get home and there is some white shit in my sheets, we just washed it.” He joked back. I can’t let this opportunity pass.

“I can’t promise its clean of all the creamy mess, you know, first time in weeks I have a room to myself.” The eyebrows raise has the intention of trowing him off, and its effective.

“Ew Dan, no! Disgusting mental image.”

“You started it.” I say, laughing taking the popcorn out of the microwave and placing it into a bowl. “No, wait, I started it. Forget about it. So, how’s your old room? Still smelling like a funeral home?”

“Thank God no. Mom didn’t put flowers on it this time. I miss my plant friends, but I’m happy that my room doesn’t smell like a 90 years old lady.” He looks around to make sure his mom isn’t hearing him, once he is sure he is fine, he returns the attention to Dan in the phone. “Where’s Lizzie? I miss her already.” He asked. I look around me in the kitchen and I don’t see her. I asked her to put her toys away, but she’s too quiet now, and that scares me. I leave the kitchen without picking up my phone, so I can search for her. I scream her name around the house, but she doesn’t answer me. I look around my room, around Phil’s room, the lobby and at the bathroom. I can’t find her. My heart is almost umping out of my chest, when I find her asleep in the sofa-bed at the office. I wait for my heart to pick up a normal pace before remembering Phil on facetime, at the kitchen.

“Sorry Phil, I just panicked for a second.” I say, entering the kitchen back. Phil is standing in the middle of his room making a mess with his backpack.

“What happened? Where is she? I was about to start packing to go back home.” He said as soon he saw that I was back.

“She is just sleeping, at the office couch.” I say, finally relaxing too. “She didn’t have a nap time today, I completely forgot.” I grab my popcorn and move to the lobby. I’m barely sat at the couch when Phil starts screaming at me.

“Dan!!! I left you my to-do list. Its in the fridge door. She needs at least an hour nap everyday, usually around 3pm. And we play in the backyard around sunset, when the lighting is bed over there, and people can’t see who’s there. I told you she would miss that! You have to do both of our jobs while I’m out.” Phil made sure to let me know. “Wait, why are you crying? Dan? Why are you crying? TALK TO ME!”

“You are screaming at me because I’m a horrible father.”

“No, no, no, you are not a horrible father Dan. You are an amazing father, you just need to do both of our jobs for a few days, and you are not used to it.”

“Its not your job. I’m her father, I’m supposed to be able to do all of this by myself. I’m supposed to know a ll of it, and to do all of it everyday. If I didn’t have you, I would have to deal with all of this by myself, but I can’t. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how to be a single father Phil, I don’t know how to take care of a child without help. My dad was right. She needs him and my mom, my brother, her aunt, and everyone that she can get around her. We are not enough for her. She needs a stable house, not two guys who needs to check the sunset time to plan the hours to go out with her without fans noticing us and destroying her future.” I take a long breath before continuing. “I don’t think we can do it, I don’t think we should do it. I don’t feel like we are doing the right thing anymore.”

“STOP. Dan, just stop. You are letting your fear talk over you. We have been over this, we can do it. You can do it. You are an amazing father and I am pretty sure that Lizzie prefers to be with you than with your parents. You are her favorite person in the whole word, Danny, and you are completely able to raise your daughter, even if I wasn’t on board to help you with this, and I am, you could handle it just fine."

"What if she doesn't want me to do it?"

"Dan, Lizzie is loving it. She loves our flat and London, she is sad because of her mom, of course, but she is really happy there with us. She wants us to do it, and she needs us to be consistent with her caring. We can't keep moving her back to your parents house everytime you feel that this is too much. As you've said, she needs an stable house, and as long as we continue taking care of her, as we have been since we've got back home, she will have one."

"I wasn't talking about Lizzie." I say, making a pause, but Phil waits for me to continue. "I was thinking about Clary." I swallow my tears before continuing. "We have never talked about Lizzie's guard in case of her death, or mine for that matters, and I have no idea if she would approve this arrangement of ours or not. Maybe she would prefer my parents to raise Lizzie. Maybe she wouldn't like the fact that Lizzie is growing in a big city with so much danger and craziness around her. Maybe she would like Riley to have her, we don't know. How can I do something without knowing?"

"You are letting your fears talk again. You need to be rational. Remember that Clary grew up without both of her parents and she always said that she would do anything for the opportunity of having one of them with her when she was growing up. Of course she would want you to be with Lizzie, there is no doubt there." Phil tried to put some sense in my thoughts, noticing that I was losing it.  "If that is not enough to make up your mind, think about the way you were raised and the way you want your daughter to be raised. You have great parents, but you really want Lizzie to grow up with their beliefs and way to see the word? You know that their generation isn't the most liberal that exists and the small town way of thinking isn't the greatest one for nowadays children. Do you really think that this is what Clarisse wants for her? Not trying to judge your parents, but do you really think that you dad's beliefs on the LGBT community is what you want your daughter to have?"

"No, of course not. I want her to be a good human being. That is why I keep thinking that I may not be enough, that I might do something wrong and destroy her future. I don't want to do that."

"So don't do that. We are humans and we are bound to make mistakes, but you can try your best to not cause any harm with yours." Phil said, making his point. "I need to go in a few minutes, mom needs help with dinner since Martyn and Cornelia are coming too. She keeps asking about you and Lizzie. She doesn't accept the fact that you are not coming to my birthday."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I wish we could go, but there is no way I can get in a 4 hours train ride with Lizzie and not get outed to the world."

"Well, she misses Lizzie. She still talks about the fact that we took two years to tell her, but she is so in love with that kid that I think she would prefer having Lizzie here for my birthday, than having me."

"Well, what can I say? She got my charm."

"And Clary's charisma, that's a fatal combination." He agreed. "You should go wake her up, or she won't sleep during the night. Try to take her out of the house for a few minutes so she can have some air and play a bit. I'll go help my mom and we can talk before bed."

"Alright, have fun with your family."

"Thank you. Bye Dan, I love you." He says, warming my heart.

"I love you too." We disconnect.

I finish eating my popcorn and cleaning the mess we've made, before waking Lizzie up. We decide to go out for that ice cream we were talking about earlier, I make sure to put a nice hoodie on, and cover her with jackets, before going out in the cold air of London. As soon as we step outside we notice that today isn't probably the best to go out for ice cream, since it's snowing.

"Hey Lizzie, how about a hot cocoa instead of ice cream?" I ask her, while holding her little hand on the streets.   I'm afraid of everyone that passes by. I have a hoodie on and glasses, and I expect not being recognized since I have a kid with me, and Phil isn't by nmy side, but I'm always worried that someone will notice me and destroy Lizzie's life.

"I love hot cocoa. After that can we go ice skating too?" She asks, looking up to make a Pussy in Boots face.

"Yes, we can do that."  I answer, trying to think of a nice ice skating rink where I might be able to stay incognito. The snow is getting stronger so I put Lizzie in my arms and get us a cab, instead of taking the tube. Precautions are never too much.

"Hey daddy, can we buy uncle Phil a gift?" Asked my baby girl, when we were safe and warm inside of the cab.

"Yes, of course my baby girl. What do you want to get him?" She thinks for a few seconds before answering.

"Do you think we can get him a baby girl too?"

"Wait, what? A baby girl? Why?" I'm kinda in shock and don't actually know what to answer.

"Yeah, like you have me. You once said that I was the best gift that mommy ever gave you, and I wanted to give uncle Phil the best gift ever. Do you think we can get him a Lizzie of his own?" I choke on air when I understand what she is saying.

“I don’t think that is possible Lizzie.”

“Why not?” Great question, why can’t I give Phil a daughter?

“Ahm… I… That’s the thing Lizzie, to get a baby you need a mommy and a daddy, and it takes time, love, and I lot of things that hopefully you only will learn about in 10 years or so.” I hear the cab driver laughing at me, and I try not panic with the face Lizzie is making at me. “What about a plushie? We can get him a plushie! He will love it!”

“Like Miss Llama?” She asks, completely over the other subject, for my happiness. “I don’t think he will like Miss Llama.”

“And what do you think he will like?” At this point I’ll buy her anything she wants to give Phil, anything to stay out of the babies subject.

“A LEGO CASTLE! He gave me a Frozen Castle for Christmas, and mommy always said that we only give gifts that we would like to get ourselves. I want to give him a lego castle. Can we get it for him Daddy?” She asks, really excited.

“Yes, of course! We will get him a lego castle, tomorrow morning, okay? Now lets go get that hot cocoa so we can bust our asses in ice later.” Did I just said ass to my four year old daughter? “Wait, forget I said that, don’t tell your mom… Don’t tell uncle Phil I said that.” I correct myself before she notices it, the cab driver is still laughing when the car stops. I make sure Lizzie has a nice cup of hot cocoa, and that she is really protected from the ice when we start skating. It took us over ten falls, and an almost broken arm, on my side, to get us out of the ice rink, and straight to a nice fun restaurant, close to the apartment.

Lizzie fell asleep in my arms before we got home, and I made sure to take her out of the wet clothes and into nice warm pajamas, before putting her to bed. I make sure to call Phil and let him know that everything went right during the day, before taking a shower and opening my computer. But nothing was right when I logged on my twitter account, and pictures of me and Lizzie were all over my mentions, all over the internet.

I think I’ll pass out.

Part 12