#it reminds me of my parents I don’t like that

[obvi-the-best-soph]

we're all bound to break. (chapter 4)

alexia putellas masterlist: here requests: here

based on this request: surprisingly enough, another creation from my own mind.

word count: 1,253k

summary: a trip out for dinner reminds you of just how much support you have.

genre: comfort/fluff warnings: grief, struggling, feeling of hopelessness? possibly very bad spanish (sorry! i try lol).

chapter 1: here chapter 2: here chapter 3: here

The next few days felt like they were moving in slow motion. Each morning you woke up, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to settle deeper in your bones, but you still put on a brave face. For Alexia. For the team. For yourself, even though that felt like a losing battle at times.

You spent most of your time either on the pitch or in your apartment, the latter mostly spent avoiding your thoughts and feeling your grief settle into your body like an anchor that refused to let go. Alexia had made it clear that she was there for you, but there was something inside you that still couldn’t let her in completely. Not yet. Not when it still felt too raw.

On the surface, things seemed to be going back to normal. You went to training, you smiled when required, and you participated when you had to, but it was all like you were moving through a fog, distant and disconnected from everything around you. You could hear the chatter, the banter from the team, but it felt muffled, like you were underwater.

The media wasn’t helping, either. Every interview, every appearance, always came with that dreaded question about your parents. It was like they could sense the vulnerability in your eyes, the cracks that were barely visible but enough to leave you shaking after each public moment. You wanted to shout, to tell them to leave you alone, but you knew it wasn’t just about you anymore. You had to live with the spotlight, even if it made your heart ache.

That’s when the texts from your aunt began.

Each message felt like a small jab to your already bruised soul. She wanted to meet again. She said it was time to “discuss the future” and how you’d handle everything that was left behind. The mere thought of it made your skin crawl.

You hadn’t responded to her at all. You knew exactly what she wanted, what she was after - anything she could claim as her own. You weren’t going to let her take what little you had left.

The day after another brutal press conference, you found yourself sitting in the locker room with Alexia. Everyone else had left to grab food, but you stayed behind, sitting on the bench with your head in your hands, the exhaustion from holding everything together for the past few days finally catching up to you.

Alexia walked in quietly, and without saying a word, she sat beside you, her presence a steady force next to you. You didn’t look up at first, but you felt her eyes on you, the concern in them almost tangible.

“Chica,” she said softly, her voice laced with warmth and something else. Worry? Fear? You couldn’t be sure.

You finally looked at her, meeting her gaze with a half-hearted smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine, really.”

Alexia didn’t buy it, of course. She leaned in slightly, her face closer now, close enough for you to feel the soft warmth of her breath. “You don’t look fine, amor.”

You sighed, rubbing your face with both hands, trying to wipe away the frustration, the ache. “It’s just… everything. It feels like it's all crashing down on me, and I can’t get away from it. Not even for a second.”

Alexia nodded in understanding, her expression softening, her hand brushing lightly against your arm. “I know. I know it’s hard. But you’re not alone in this, Y/N. You don’t have to go through it by yourself.”

You met her gaze again, and for the first time in a while, you felt something like relief - like you could finally admit to yourself that you needed help. But then, just as quickly, the weight of your aunt’s messages flooded your mind, and you felt the tension return.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I don’t know if I can face her again. I don’t know how to make it all stop.”

Alexia’s hand found yours, her fingers wrapping around yours tightly, grounding you in the moment. “You don’t have to do it alone, I told you that. And we’ll face her together. You have your team, and you have me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

You blinked back the tears threatening to fall, fighting to keep the storm inside at bay. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Alexia - it was that you couldn’t bring yourself to fully let anyone in. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fragile.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this,” you muttered, feeling the weight of those words more than you wanted to.

Alexia’s gaze softened, and for a moment, it was as if the whole world outside of the locker room had faded away. All that mattered was the two of you, sitting there in silence, the bond between you unspoken but clear.

“You are stronger than you think,” she said gently, squeezing your hand. “And when you feel like you’re not, I’ll be here. And the team will be here. We’ve got you, Y/N.”

You nodded, a lump in your throat as you squeezed her hand back. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to do this alone. Maybe, this time, you could lean on someone who truly cared.

A couple of days later, Alexia insisted that you accompany her to dinner with a few of the others. You had been avoiding social situations, sticking mostly to your apartment or training, but Alexia was determined, and you couldn’t say no. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face the world again, but for her, you would try.

The restaurant was quiet, and as soon as you walked in, a few of the team members - Mapi, Lucy, Keira, and Ingrid - waved at you from their corner booth. You forced a smile and made your way over, the familiar faces a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for days.

“¿Cómo estás?” Mapi asked, her tone gentle but probing. You could see the concern in her eyes, the way she was waiting for the truth.

You sighed, shifting in your seat as you avoided eye contact for a moment. “I’m managing. Just… trying to keep going.”

Keira smiled softly. “It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know. We get it. And we’ll be here, no matter what.”

Lucy chimed in, her accent thick as always. “Yeah, and if you ever need to talk - or if you want us to come smash a few things together - just say the word.”

That earned a small laugh from you, something that felt foreign and strange after all this time. But it felt good. Real. Like you didn’t have to carry the weight of your grief alone.

“Thanks, chicas,” you whispered, feeling the tears start to sting again. “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

Alexia reached over and squeezed your hand under the table, offering a soft smile. “You’ll never have to find out, cariño. You’ve got us. Always.”

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to believe her.

The world outside was still chaotic. Your aunt still lingered like a shadow, waiting to make her move. But you didn’t have to face it all right now. Right now, you had the people who loved you by your side. And for now, that was enough.

[sofa-king-lame]

48. Out of habit - Buddie

Oop this one got away from me a little. But here it is!

—

Four months after Christopher left for Texas, Eddie kissed Buck at a farmers market over the potatoes. It had surprised Buck so much he forgot what it was they even went to the farmers market for in the first place (Eddie had tagged along for the hell of it, just wanting to be around Buck). The sun was shining behind him, catching the natural highlights in his curls and when Buck had lifted up his sunglasses to inspect the purple sweet potatoes a little closer Eddie lost any sense of self control he had. Buck’s eyes crinkling against the bright light of the rising sun had been too much for Eddie to tamp down on, so he’d said ‘fuck it’ to himself and grabbed the collar of Buck’s shirt to pull him in and kiss him absolutely senseless.

“Wanna get out of here?” Eddie breathed heavily when they parted. Buck had nodded fervently and followed Eddie wordlessly back to the Jeep. They made it almost all the way back to Eddie’s house holding hands over the centre console before Buck realised they’d left empty handed. Neither of them cared much when they kissed again at the front door, against the front door on the inside, in the hallway, the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom, then finally the bed.

They did go back the next morning and manage to actually get what they went for without traumatising any vendors.

Buck essentially moved in after that and they spent the next month (somewhat guiltily) enjoying having an empty house. Buck seemed to make it his mission to see exactly how loud he could make Eddie be, which is pretty damn loud as it turns out. Mrs. Parnell from next door refused to look Eddie in the eye the morning after a particularly excellent evening (it’s not Eddie’s fault it had been unseasonably warm so they’d had the windows open, and it’s also not Eddie’s fault he never knew sex could feel like that).

—

Buck gets up before Eddie every morning they’re at home together and is always waiting in the kitchen with coffee, breakfast, and a delightfully soft good morning kiss. They exist in a hazy bubble where the only thing that matters is them.

—

Eddie

Christopher messages Eddie and says he wants to come home five weeks after Buck and Eddie get together. They both cry a little over it, then Eddie spends two hours arguing with his parents on the phone about it.

“We just don’t think he’s ready,” Helena sighs.

“If he says he’s ready, then he’s ready,” Eddie groans. The only reason he’s not banging his head on the table in frustration right now is because Buck is next to him with a secure arm around his waist.

“But how can we be sure we’re returning him to a safe environment? How can we trust something like this won’t happen again?” Ramon asks. Eddie wants to break something, maybe hit someone. He chooses to grab Buck’s free hand and squeeze it instead. Buck returns his grip just as fiercely and presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s temple (Eddie is incredibly grateful they’re not on a video call, he doesn’t think he could handle this alone).

“Maybe we should bring him and stay for a few days,” Helena suggests. The absolute last thing Eddie wants is for his parents to stay in his house for a few days, but if it means getting Christopher back without needing to seek legal advice he’ll do it.

“Fine,” Eddie replies through gritted teeth. “You can stay for three days.”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe a week -“

“This is my house,” Eddie reminds them, “and Christopher is my son. Three days.”

“Three days is fine,” Ramon concedes. Eddie hears his mother sigh unhappily, a sound he is all too familiar with (a constant presence in his childhood).

“We’ll be up this weekend,” Helena tells him before promptly hanging up the call. Buck is quiet beside him, still firmly gripping his hand.

“I have to go back to the loft, don’t I,” he says sadly, as Eddie drops his phone to the coffee table in front of him. It clatters louder than he thought it would but he barely registers it over the blood rushing in his ears.

“I don’t want you to,” Eddie murmurs, but he knows it has to be this way. His parents are already going to be questioning everything, and having Buck around all the time would probably only raise concerns ‘are you telling us you’re incapable of looking after Christopher yourself, Edmundo? Why is your coworker always here?’

“It’s okay,” Buck assures him. “This weekend is about getting Chris back, so that’s what you’re going to do. I’ll be here if and when you need me.”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m going to tell them,” Eddie insists, because the past month he hadn’t felt anything other than pure joy and contentment. He wants to scream from rooftops ‘I got Buck!’

“I know,” Buck smiles. “When the time is right. You got this, okay? Let’s get you your kid back.”

—

Buck

Buck ends up having to work the day Eddie’s parents arrive, but manages to at least be there when they turn up. The reunion between Eddie and Christopher is tearful and happy, and Buck sheds a few tears of his own when Christopher gives him a brief but tight hug.

“Missed you so much,” Buck murmurs as he hugs back.

“I missed you too,” Christopher mumbles as he steps back. Helena and Ramon are watching closely, meaning Buck is hyper-aware of his proximity to Eddie. Having spent the last month only stepping out of each other’s space to use the toilet and work, it’s borderline excruciating not being able to give Eddie’s hand a reassuring squeeze or place a grounding kiss on his forehead. Eddie meets his gaze over Christopher’s head and flashes him a tight smile, before grabbing his parents’ bags and hauling them inside.

“So, Evan,” Helena starts and Buck barely manages not to visibly flinch. He doesn’t think he’s ever referred to himself as Evan around Eddie’s parents, and he’s almost certain that if Christopher had been talking about him he would have called him Buck.

“It’s Buck,” Christopher and Eddie correct her at the same time. Buck notices the tension in Eddie’s shoulders ease a little at that, smiling at Christopher who ducks his head to hide his own grin.

“Right, of course. Buck,” Helena says dismissively. “Do you think Eddie is ready to have Christopher home?”

“I, uh. I don’t think that’s my call to make. That’s entirely up to Eddie and Christopher, isn’t it?” Buck coughs awkwardly. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Eddie interjects, sending Buck a pleading look.

“Okay. Then yes. I think Eddie has been ready for Christopher to come home from the moment he walked out the door,” Buck tells Helena bluntly. He won’t tell her what he really thinks, because he knows Eddie is trying to salvage his relationship with them for Christopher’s sake (even if Buck thinks they don’t deserve it).

“Maybe we should speak to your boss, Eddie. And you said you’re seeing a therapist, could we speak to them too?” Helena continues and this time Buck does visibly flinch. Eddie’s jaw tightens and Buck watches as he takes three deep breaths in a row before responding.

“No,” Eddie says simply. “We won’t be doing that. You can stay for the three days we planned if that’s what Christopher wants to feel more comfortable, but this visit isn’t about you assessing my capacity to parent my child.”

“Eddie we just want to be sure he’s safe,” Ramon insists.

“Christopher is safer here with Eddie than he is anywhere else,” Buck huffs. “I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t think it was true.”

“You work together, you don’t have an unbiased opinion on the matter,” Helena scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. Buck hates her.

“Eddie is my best friend, so you’re right. My opinion isn’t unbiased. But Christopher is equally important to me, and I wouldn’t tell you he was safe here if I thought he wouldn’t be,” Buck snaps. Buck is now already running late for work, and although he desperately wants to stay and support Eddie he has to leave.

“Buck, it’s alright,” Eddie says softly, crossing the room to stand with him. “We’re gonna talk. You are late for work.”

“Yeah,” Buck mutters. “I’ll check in with you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs. It takes every ounce of Buck’s self control not to kiss Eddie goodbye, not to use his fingers to hook under Eddie’s chin and tilt his head up to rest their foreheads together, not to massage the tightness out of his shoulders. He settles on a quick clap on the shoulder as he heads out the door.

—

After his shift Buck heads home to dump his things and change into his running gear - it’s early enough in the morning that turning up at Eddie’s would raise too many questions, so instead he runs to their favourite cafe to get enough coffees and breakfast for everyone before turning up at a more normal time. Helena is out the front of the house as he walks up the driveway and observes him quizzically.

“Good morning!” Buck greets cheerfully. “I was out for a run and thought I’d swing by with coffee and breakfast.”

“That’s…very nice of you,” Helena says slowly. “Do you do things like this often?”

“All the time,” Buck responds after carefully considering his answer. “Eddie and Chris are both incredibly important to me, and I like to do nice things for them.”

“Hmm,” Helena hums. Buck chooses to ignore her as he precariously balances the bag of breakfast wraps on top of the coffee tray to open the door, toeing off his shoes before padding through to the kitchen. Ramon is at the table and shoots him a confused look as the starts to pull plates out of the cupboard.

“I wasn’t sure how the two of you take your coffee, but w- Eddie has cream and sugar,” Buck chatters, hoping they don’t notice him almost slipping up and saying “we have cream and sugar”. Because they’d bought both together a week ago, barely able to keep their hands off each other in the grocery store. Eddie’s parents arrived less than twenty-four hours ago and Buck is already very ready for them to fuck off back to El Paso. Knowing Eddie is in his their bed down the hall and he can’t climb in with him, even just to curl around him and nap for a few hours, is killing him. Buck suspects Eddie has been living in his very own special circle of hell over the last eighteen hours though, and he doesn’t want to make things worse. So he tosses two of the wraps into Eddie’s sandwich press to toast them, retrieves the cream and sugar for the coffees, and waits patiently for Eddie to get up. Helena joins Ramon at the table and they begin to whisper between themselves, Buck pointedly not eavesdropping (because he’s too tired to bite his tongue over whatever shit they’re probably saying about him or Eddie). He can hear Eddie coming down the hallway now anyway.

—

Eddie

Eddie blinks awake earlier than he has been on his days off over the last month, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up still half-asleep. He can hear Buck puttering around and makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen. Buck is watching the sandwich press and Eddie can smell their favourite breakfast wraps toasting away.

“Morning,” he murmurs, sliding into the almost non-existent gap between Buck and the bench. He kisses him softly, the way he’s done most mornings for the past month. Buck, however, stiffens underneath him and a loud gasp sounds from the general direction of the table.

“Uh - you, um -“ Buck stutters as Eddie suddenly remembers that his fucking parents are here. At his kitchen table. Deciding whether or not they’re willing to give him his son back.

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses. He steps away from Buck to find his parents staring at him, his mothers mouth hanging open. His father has gone bright red and his fists are clenched on top of the table.

“What was that?” Helena demands. “What on earth is happening here?”

“I was saying good morning to my boyfriend,” Eddie tells her, because fuck it. He’s proud to be with Buck, and he wants everyone in his life to know how fucking happy he is. “I forgot you were here.”

“Boyfriend?” Ramon sputters. “Boyfriend, Edmundo!”

“Yes, Dad. Boyfriend. If you’ve got a problem with it, you know where the door is,” Eddie responds coolly. Buck’s brushing his hand against Eddie’s, the way he does when he wants to hold hands but is letting Eddie take the lead. Eddie grabs his hand firmly and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a firm kiss to Buck’s knuckles.

“Christopher is coming with if you make us leave,” Helena warns.

“No I’m not,” comes Christopher’s voice from the doorway. “I’m staying here.”

“But -“

“No, no but. Chris wants to stay,” Eddie asserts, feeling braver than he ever has in front of his parents with Buck by his side.

“But Christopher, what about all those teachings from the church you enjoyed?” Ramon asks him. Helena has started crying, clinging to Eddie’s father and hiding her face.

“I hated church. You forced me to go, I never wanted to,” Christopher mutters. “It’s all bullshit anyway. Dad told me about him and Buck last night, and I want to move home.”

“Language, Christopher,” Helena admonishes harshly, and this is Eddie’s breaking point.

“Get out,” he snaps. “Christopher is not your child. He’s my child, and this is my home. He can swear if he fucking wants to.”

“This is not how we raised you, Edmundo,” Helena wails. Ramon is stony and silent, jaw set tight and staring at the wall behind Eddie’s head.

“I am grateful every day that I’m not the person you tried to raise me to be,” Eddie scoffs. Buck’s grip on his hand tightens and he leans closer, bumping their shoulders together.

“Eddie is the best person I know,” Buck interjects, voice wobbly. “Despite the two of you.”

“Who do you think you are, speaking to us like that?” Ramon finally snaps.

“He’s the one who’s been here for me all the times you should have been,” Eddie retorts. “Now get out of my house.”

“Christopher,” Helena pleads, but he ignores her in favour of crossing the kitchen to join Buck and Eddie.

“You should go,” Christopher mumbles. “I’m staying.”

“We’ll be in touch soon,” Ramon mutters as they fucking finally walk out of the kitchen. Eddie follows them to make sure they get their bags, watching until their hire car is no longer visible. It’s only then that he drops his shoulders, rolling them to relieve the tension that had rooted itself there the minute his parents pulled into his driveway.

When he returns to the kitchen he finds Buck hugging Christopher, his eyes red and watery.

“So proud of you, buddy,” Buck murmurs, giving Christopher one last squeeze before letting him go.

“That was really brave,” Eddie adds. “I was never brave enough to stand up to them when I was your age.”

“Whatever,” Christopher sighs, shrugging his shoulders. His pink cheeks betray the facade he’s putting on, as does the smile that breaks out across his face as Buck presents him with his breakfast wrap and hot chocolate. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Missed you, kiddo,” Buck says, but he’s looking at Eddie and grinning.

“Missed you too,” Christopher replies around a mouthful of egg and sausage. “Missed you, Dad.”

“I missed you so much, Chris,” Eddie tells him softly, sitting next to him at the table. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Y’know, with me and Buck.”

“Are you going to leave if you guys break up?” Christopher asks bluntly, looking at Buck.

“Never,” Buck insists. “I’m here for good.”

“Then it’s fine,” Christopher shrugs. “Just don’t be gross in front of me.”

“Deal,” Eddie chuckles. Buck gestures subtly to the living room and Eddie stands to follow him out, pulling him in for a kiss as soon as they’re around the corner. It’s a hell of a lot more chaste than most other kisses they’ve had in the last month, but Eddie bathes in its warmth anyway.

“You good?” Eddie asks, because he wasn’t the only one in the line of fire this morning. Buck had walked right into it for Eddie, defending him like it’s what he was born to do.

“I’m good. Are you good?” Buck replies, resting a hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m great,” Eddie grins. “I’ve got my family back together.”

“You were amazing. I can’t believe you finally stood up to them like that,” Buck breathes. Eddie snorts because he doesn’t really feel brave - he feels like he lost his cool, but man did it feel good.

“Thank you for backing me up,” Eddie murmurs, pressing his forehead against Buck’s.

“We promised to have each other’s backs years ago. I’m not ever breaking that promise,” Buck whispers as he kisses Eddie again.

“I can hear you being gross,” Christopher calls out from the kitchen. Buck laughs and gives Eddie a peck on the lips before heading back into the kitchen.

“The deal was not to be gross in front of you!” Eddie argues, following Buck and sitting back down.

“Being able to hear it counts as in front of me,” Christopher counters with a huff.

“Fine,” Buck sighs, setting his and Eddie’s breakfast and coffees down on the table. “We’ll just be gross when you’re not looking or listening.”

“Yeah, you’re a teenager now. Not looking or listening is all part of the process of growing up,” Eddie teases. Christopher groans but doesn’t leave the table, and Eddie thinks he might be biting back another smile.

“We love you,” Buck tells Christopher, who was definitely biting back a smile (that’s now being hidden behind his cup of hot chocolate).

“Love you too,” he mumbles. Yeah, Eddie is good. Probably the best he’s ever been.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

I got a super cute idea of Shadow and reader going out in the snow and playing around, having a snowball fight then crashing down together in a big pile of snow while laughing and smiling

(inspired by the fact that I went out and played in the snow bc you’re never too old to do that and It reminded me of a scene from my first anime ‘Wolf children’)

Also ello once more😄👋🏼

“Fun in the Snow”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by @shadowchan009 ).

Description: Shadow never really liked the snow. Good thing you were there to change his mind!

Notes: Eeee more excuses for fluff let’s goooo! I hope you enjoy! And hello again! ^^

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Ah, another winter day.

You were snuggled against your fluffy partner, Shadow, snow falling from the sky outside your window.

Wait, snow?

Sitting up, Shadow’s arms still around your waist, you look outside. Sure enough, there’s quite a lot of snow outside, probably about five inches. You mentally thank yourself for reminding Shadow to park his motorcycle in the garage.

You hear Shadow grumble from the bed, missing your warmth.

You smile at him, petting between his ears, causing him to start doing his click-like purr.

“Morning to you as well, Shadow,” you say.

“It’s too early,” Shadow mutters. “Come back to bed.”

“Shadow, it’s nearly nine,” you tell him. “I need to make us breakfast.”

He grumbles but lets go of your waist, and you give him a kiss on the forehead, getting up from the bed and heading off to the kitchen. Shadow follows behind, letting out a yawn.

“Eggs sound good?” you ask him.

Shadow makes a hum of affirmation, taking a spoon out from the utensil drawer before taking his coffee beans off of the counter and to the table with him. He eats a spoonful before looking over at the window, seeing the snow. He grumbles, but he feels thankful you reminded him to put his motorcycle in the garage.

“Alright! Eggs are done, made ‘em how you like ‘em, over-easy,” you say, placing the plate in front of Shadow, the plate housing the egg and two pieces of buttered toast.

“Thank you,” he says with a small smile. He always enjoyed your cooking.

While eating, your gaze falls on the snow again and you start remembering how you would play in the snow with your parents and the neighborhood kids.

Shadow didn’t get to experience any good memories with snow, you realize.

“Hey, Shadow?” you ask.

Shadow tilts his head in confusion.

“Would you want to go play in the snow?” you ask before quickly adding, “With me, of course.”

“Why would you want to play in the snow?” Shadow asks. “It’s cold and serves no purpose.”

“Come onnn, pleeeeease?” you ask.

Shadow lets out a sigh.

“Fine. But you’re wearing layers,” Shadow states.

“You’re wearing layers too, mister,” you tell him. “And don’t give me any of that ultimate lifeform crap.”

“Fine, fine,” Shadow mutters. “Finish your breakfast first.”

After you two finish said breakfast and finish getting ready for the day, the two of you start dressing up for the cold, with you putting on your snow pants, peacoat, normal coat, scarf, hat, boots, and double gloves on, forcing Shadow to do the same, minus the boots.

“I look like an idiot,” Shadow grumbles through his layers.

“You look fine, now come on! The snow awaits!” you say, dragging him outside.

As soon as you’re outside, you find a good place to sit, laying down on your back and making a snow angel with your arms and legs, Shadow watching with curiosity.

Once you deem the angel done, you sit back up and push yourself off the ground, admiring your creation.

“Ta-daaa! Snow angel!” you say.

“Hm. Interesting,” Shadow mutters. “What else is there to do?”

“Weeeell, we could do a snowball fight,” you tell him. Shadow tilts his head in confusion. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. You make a snowball with your gloves,” you start, doing so. “Then you throw ‘em at your opponent!”

You throw your snowball at Shadow and he ducks to avoid it, his hat being hit off in the process.

“Oh, you’re so on,” Shadow says with a playful smirk.

Game on.

The two of you rush to different patches of snow, with you being able to make more snowballs quicker due to you being experienced, but Shadow quickly catches on, you and him throwing snowball after snowball at each other until eventually, a snowball hits Shadow in the back of the head, one that wasn’t from you.

Shadow looks behind him and gets hit in the face with a snowball thrown by none other than Sonic the Hedgehog.

“Ha-ha! Gotcha, Shads!” Sonic says.

Shadow shakes his head, getting the snow off his face, and you and Shadow share a look, the both of you smirking.

“Uh, guys, what’s with the evil smirks?” Sonic asks.

You and Shadow both prepare a snowball, standing side-by-side, grinning evilly at Sonic.

“…Oh no,” Sonic mutters.

“TAG TEAMMM!” you yell out, you and Shadow throwing snowball after snowball at the running and screaming blue hedgehog, laughing your butts off.

After chasing Sonic off, the two of you fall back into the snow, out of breath, but also while laughing, a big smile on both of your faces.

“Did ya have fun?” you ask him.

“It was…interesting, to say the least,” Shadow states. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

You inwardly cheer.

“Wanna go in and get some hot cocoa?” you ask.

“That sounds perfect,” he says.

Shadow gets up and holds out a hand, pulling you out of the snow, the two of you heading inside after your awesome day out.

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER V

✷WARNINGS: cursing, pining??, farrah mentioned, xavia lore dropping, angst ✷NIYAH SPEAKS: computer fixed ayeeee!!! imma get to yalls requests now i pinky swear. idk when they'll be out but i gotchu

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

“So, Ms. Johnson,” Paige smiles at me from her spot on the ground, “What does one do for Christmas in LA?”

The original plan for tonight was for our whole group to hang out before we all left to our hometowns. So it was KK, Azzi, Yanna, Jane and I. 

But of course, nothing ever goes to plan around here. Yanna and Jane went back to our place so Jane could finish packing. Azzi had to ‘take a phone call’ but she’d been in her room for almost an hour. And KK was supposed to be picking up the food, but she had been gone longer than Azzi. 

So it was just Paige and I, her on the ground building LEGO’s and me on the couch scrolling. It was a comfortable silence, but a silence that was begging to be broken. I guess Paige decided to be the one that broke it. 

“Well, Christmas is different in my house than it would be for your average Californian.” I set my phone down before folding my hands and sliding them under the blanket. “It’s more of a production than a holiday.”

I make it a point to never talk about my family’s dynamic with anyone here. I try my hardest for those two worlds to never meet, but for some reason, I trust that Paige will understand my situation better than anyone. I think to some extent, her life is as complex as mine is.

Paige seems ultimately unbothered by what I said. “Is your family one of those weird ones that has a 90ft tree and uses rare cloth to wrap presents?” She asks without ever taking her eyes off the project she’s working on. 

“Uh, kinda,” I start, “My parents are both surgeons and all four of my grandparents were doctors. My grandpa make like, a life changing discovery before my dad was born, and my grandma on my moms side was a pioneer for black women in the medical field,”

“Sound like some shit off Grey’s,” Paige chuckles and I can’t help but to join her, because it really does sound like some shit from Grey’s. 

“So obviously they were very successful and raised my parents to be just like them,”

“Of course.”

“So naturally, my parents are just like their parents and my grandparents are very proud of them, as they should be.” I throw my hands up, to let Paige know that I’m also proud of my parents, “But then they had me. And it was my parent’s turn to shape and mold their prodigy.”

“Right.” Paige nod’s her head like she’s following, still focused on the LEGO’s.

“Except I hate blood, and science has always been my weakest subject.”

She freezes for a second before turning her head to me, now paying full attention.

“So instead of a prodigy, they got a humanitarian who protests the cost of health insurance.”

Paige winces at my words, like she understands that there’s career shaped canyon between my parents and I. “Ouch,”

“Yeah so, back to Christmas,” I take a deep breath and let it out before answering her original question, “Every year, my parents throw this big party every year, bigger than the Thanksgiving one, and it’s filled with rich people who talk about making themselves richer.” 

I decide to leave out the part about me playing the piano and how a piece of me dies everytime I strike a chord. 

“Everyone asks me how school’s going and if I’m still majoring in Sociology and when I tell them ‘yes,’ they remind me that ‘the money isn’t great in social work’, and I have to pretend like I don’t want to scream that if I cared about money then I would still be using my parents money instead of busting my ass to pay my rent and keep my grades up so I don’t lose my scholarship.” 

Realizing that I’ve started rambling, I take another breath, closing my eyes and counting to three before I release it. And Paige doesn’t say anything. She just allows me this moment for myself, regardless of any questions she may have, and I appreciate more than she realizies. 

“Nobody gets why I don’t use my trust fund, or why I work when my parent’s would pay for everything.” I open my eyes and allow them to find Paige’s. 

She looks empathetic and confused and it makes me want to run away and never see her again, but also tell her all my secrets, hopes and dreams at the same time. 

Funny, right?

“Why don’t you?” she asks.

I think about my answer for a second, trying to put it in the best way I can. How do you explain to someone that if you wanted to, you could have everything you wanted, but to get everything you want, you have to be everything you never want to be? How do you explain that you know from firsthand experience that money doesn’t buy happiness?

“Because then they’d have control over me.” I speak slowly, not sure if it makes sense to me, let alone Paige. “They’d hold the money over my head so that I would have no choice but to be exactly who they want me to be. And I’d rather live the life that I do, than pretend to be something I’m not.”

The irony in my statement isn’t lost one me. 

Rich girl want to change the world by refusing to take Mommy and Daddy’s money.

Cliche, I know. But I don’t want to change the world by not taking their money. I’d gladly accept the help from my parents, and I know I’d make much more of a difference if I had money they were always trying to force feed me. But the cost isn’t worth it to me. 

How can I, in good conscience, fight to make life easier for the middle/lower class if I’m rubbing elbows with the very people who are making their lives harder?

Paige’s response shocks me to my core. “I wish I was as brave as you.”

I don’t know why I said that. I meant what I said, but I stil have no fucking clue why I allowed myself to say it. 

Because now, Xavia is looking at me like she’s waiting for me to go further. Waiting for me to give her and explanation that I can’t give her. 

I think about where this conversation would go if I was honest about it. 

I’d tell her that I admired her ability to be honest. That I lie to everyone about everything and I think the guilt is gonna kill me before I make it to the league, which is the reason I’m doing it in the first place. I’d tell her that I wish I was strong enough to do what I want without caring about the repercussions. 

My first thought is that if I were to say all that, she’d for sure think I’m insane. I wouldn’t blame her. How can I play the victim in this situation when at the end of the day, it’s my choices that got me here?

But my second thought is that Xavia would take a second. Close her eyes and take a deep breath, and I’d stare at her lashes as they brush her cheek and hope that one falls so I can brush it off her cheek. And after that second, she’d open her eyes and tell me everything I need to hear. She’d come up with a solution to all my problems and when I tell her that I’m scared to be honest about everything, she wouldn’t make me feel like shit. She’d assure me that she’d be there when my world crumbles due to my lies.

None of that can happen for two reasons. 

I’m for shit sure not gonna chance Xavia and I’s friendship by telling her my secrets.

If my second thought is correct, I’d be forced to admit to myself that I never stopped liking Xavia. I’d be forced to admit that it might not be a like anymore. That it might possibly be something deeper and complex than wanting what I can’t have.

So instead, I feed her bullshit. 

“Uh, just-” I clear my throat, “If I had the choice to go to school on someone else’s dime, I’d take it, regardless.”

The way Xavi’s face drops makes my heart do the same. I literally watch the light in her eyes that I love so much, disappear.  Her brows furrow and she tucks her lips before sticking her neck out as if to telepathically say, ‘are you dumb?’

And I’m not.

I fully understand her mindset. And I support her choices to be independent. That sentence was just the best I could come up with at the moment, but clearly it’s done more harm than good. 

“Did you not hear everything I just said?”

“Uh-”

She cuts me off, “Because if you did, then you would have heard the part where I explained why I’m not doing that.”

“No, I know why you’re doing things your way, I just wouldn’t do the same.”

The baffled look on her face tells me she’s not pleased with my attempt at damage control, “And why not?”

There are countless answers to that question, and running them over in my mind makes me mad, more at myself than anyone else. All the excuses are my own fault. 

I’m too scared to fail.

I made promises I wouldn’t be able to keep on my own.

I don’t have the confidence within myself to trust me with my own life.

And of course, like the fucking moron that I am, I said none of that to the girl who’s now standing up front the couch, legs unfolded, bare feet barring into the carpet. 

“We all have to make sacrifices to make Xavia, and you choosing to struggle and cause a rift with your parents doesn’t seem worth the cause.” I shrugged, leaning back on my haunches, craning my neck to see her. 

She cuts her eyes at me before inhaling and exhaling. ‘Bye, Paige.” And now, she’s sliding into her shoes and grabbing her back, “Tell KK I’ll Apple Pay her my part for the food.”

I’m speechless as I watch her hips sway to my front door. I watch her arms swing the door open and I watch it close with a soft click. 

It isn’t until I watch her Uber drive off with her in it that I realize what the fuck just happened, and when I do it takes everything in me to not fall to my fucking knees. 

I just stare at the door, like if I hope hard enough Xavia will come back and have magically figured out everything I wanted to say.

But she doesn’t come back. The front door doesn’t open again until KK barges in with bags of Chick-Fil-A, asking where Xavi and Azzi went.

I can’t even bring myself to answer. 

I just close my eyes and force the tears back into their ducts before wordlessly going to my room and it isn’t until I’m in my bed with the lights off that allow the tears to fall. 

I allow myself to shake from the force of my regret. I let my lungs empty themselves out into my pillow with every sob. I allow this one time to be honest with myself because no amount of ignoring or denial will trick my brain into thinking that being Xavi-less is worth it.. 

So the rest of the night, I cry until there’s no tears left, and then I cry some more just because I want to. 

It’s not even the fact that Xavia walked out on me. It’s not abou the fact that she’s mad at me, though that doesn’t sit well either. 

It’s the fact that, for years I knew exactly how my life was gonna look. I knew I was going pro. I knew I was gonna be the #1 draft pick and I knew that in order for these things to happen, I had to make sacrifices. I had to pick the right girl, wear the right clothes, talk a certain way and dedicate myself to my career. I had to be absolutely fucking miserable and become a version of myself that I wasn’t proud of.

 And for all this time, I told myself that all this loneliness and misery was going to be worth it when I put that hat on. Because then I’d have done it. I’d have done what I’ve wanted to do since I was 10.

It didn’t matter that I was a liar. That I was keeping a girl I loved (as a friend) from being with someone who could give her everything she deserved. It didn’t matter I’d never enjoy sex again, or that the guilt of my decisons was probably gonna give me ulcers. Didn’t even matter that I’d probably go to Hell for all the sins I’d committed.

But now, I can’t stop my brain from telling me that the WNBA isn’t worth Farrah’s happiness. It isn’t worth the light in Xavia’s eyes. It isn’t worth Azzi’s peace of mind. 

It isn’t worth my soul.

The next morning, I ignore my alarm. I ignore the knocks on my door and the texts from my team and the calls from Farrah. I just lay there in my bed, wrapped in a blanket that smells nothing like coconut oil, and try to get my shit together, 

I wrack my brain and force myself to remember why I’m doing this. 

WHY THE FUCK AM I DOING THIS?

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[jomiddlemarch]

Five Times Aristocrats Shared a Bed and One Time They Didn’t*

(*where “they” have delusions of grandeur)

1.

“If it is your preference, I shall give you your privacy and I will seek your permission before entering your chamber,” Fitzwilliam said stiffly, reminding Elizabeth so much of the aloof stranger she’d first seen at a Meryton dance that she could not keep from laughing.

“Madam?” he asked, taken aback.

She had learnt him well enough to wait to speak until she’d laid her hand upon his chest, where he could not fail to see his ring upon her finger.

“I’ve never slept alone in my life and I shouldn’t like to start now,” she said. “I warn you and Jane will confirm it, my feet get cold but I despise bed-socks.”

“It will be my pleasure to keep you warm, Elizabeth,” he said.

2.

“I’ve made sure your suite was entirely redecorated, all in the loveliest shades of green and indigo, and I spoke with your housekeeper, to ensure your mattress here is just as you like it,” Emma said.

George raised an eyebrow in inquiry. It was quite the most devilish expression and she wished she were capable of matching it.

“You have already undertaken so much, leaving Donwell Abbey and coming to live at Hartfield, you deserved to have a place of your own, a retreat when you cannot bear another second of Papa’s exhortations about the risk of cold lettuce on a young man’s chest or my silly prattling,” she explained.

“Mrs. Knightley, what I cannot bear is to be apart from you at night,” he said, moving closer as he spoke. “To wake without you in my arms.”

“Well, you needn’t,” she said, while she could. 

She was not sorry when she couldn’t. Not one bit.

3.

“If you’d like, my dear, I’ll sleep in my dressing room,” Charles said. “I know aristocrats don’t share a bed. My parents did but of course, Father was in trade, for all that Caroline wants to pretend we’re the obscure cadet branch of some viscount from the North. I asked Darcy and he turned rather puce but he did say it was so—”

“We’re not aristocrats, Charles,” Jane replied.

“You’re a gentleman’s daughter, Jane, a lady to the very tips of your toes,” Charles replied.

“Whoever the Bingleys are, we’re only Charles and Jane here,” she said. “And whatever you consider the tips of my toes, I’m your wife first and last.”

“You’ll send me to my dressing room if I snore, though. You must promise me that, you’re too good a creature to complain about anything but I shan’t have you exhausted,” Charles said.

“If you snore, I promise, I’ll wake you,” Jane said.

She’d learnt quite quickly how her husband took his tea and how to lie to him.

4.

“When we choose an estate, I’ll make sure there’s a separate chamber for you, sweetheart,” Frederick said softly. “You’ll want that after being crammed into this crowded little cabin—”

“It’s snug,” Anne said, turning slightly so she might see his dear face better. The moonlight from the porthole took him from the epitome of a British sea-captain and changed him into a figure of romance or myth, a god all silver and shadow. “I shouldn’t like anything better than this, this perfect refuge that’s ours alone and the sound of the waves.”

“We’ll choose a place by the sea,” he said. “A house with a view, plenty of space, light and airy.”

“But I don’t care to sleep apart, no matter had bad Ton it is,” she said. “We were apart long enough.”

5.

“Don’t say we must be stuffy aristocrats about it and sleep in separate rooms and you’re to knock at my door and wait there in a banyan and slippers for me to bid you enter,” Marianne said in a rush, exhilarated by the fresh air, the vista before them, Colonel Brandon’s arm around her waist. He did not yet believe she was steady on her feet after her illness and she could not convince him otherwise, had she been inclined to try. “There is nothing romantic about that, nothing ravishing—”

“There will be ravishing, my dear,” he replied. “In one room, one bed, if that’s what you want.”

“I quite fancy the contrast, how splendidly massive Delaford is and then to imagine the two of us tucked away, almost in a garret,” she said dreamily.

“I draw the line at a garret,” he said. “And I do wear a banyan and slippers when it’s chilly.”

6.

“Some would say we’ve pretentions beyond our station, Mrs. Collins, yes, some would say that very thing, but for someone, if you will, attached to a lady as elevated as Lady Catherine de Bourgh, for a clergyman with refined taste and a sense of elegant delicacy derived from a close association with an aristocrat like her Ladyship, well, it hardly seems the argument that we’re aping our betters should be given the least credence,” Mr. Collins declared, speaking much as he would giving one of his sermons. Anything to do with Lady Catherine called for that tone of voice, a fact Charlotte had gleaned after three days in the vicarage.

“As you say, Mr. Collins,” Charlotte replied.

“It’s a squeeze, I’m quite aware of that, but I had the box room fitted out and the alcove in the larger room can serve as a dressing room, if it comes to it,” he said.

“I’ve no complaints, sir,” Charlotte replied. 

Indeed, her husband’s announcement that they would have separate sleeping chambers had made her nearly as happy as his offer to wed and might very well be her salvation.

Posted late for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month Day 21, prompt: aristocracy

[alicefromwhichplanet]

(For the kids)How do you feel being your parents’ child? What kind of person is your carrier/sire?

Skystrophe:

Oh, these questions are… unusual. (Look around anxiously) So am I allowed to say anything..? Will they watch this show…? Ok…

I wanna say that many bots say it’s lucky for me to have Optimus and Megatron as my parents… but the truth is, having them as parents really brings me a lot of pressure. It’s… not so easy to be the only child of two extraordinary people, and you know you’re not so extraordinary yourself. I mean, I am only “just ok” at many things they can easily do great. It’s just… I’m still trying to figure out.

My carrier is a very strong bot. By that, I mean he’s powerful, not only in battles and strategies, but in the will. I think there’s nothing in the world that can defeat him, or make him feel defeated. When he’s with us, he’s always happy, confident, full of energy. When sire feels unsure, he is there to boost his spirits. When I feel insecure, knowing that he is there for me, always makes me feel better.

My sire, on the other hand, is umm, stricter. I know he means well. He told me all about those stories of heroes and primes, and responsibility comes with strength. He’s a lovable bot, of course. And he’s gentle with me. It’s just, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way he talks. He makes me feel… nervous.

Jinglestorm:

Being my parents’ child, it’s a lot of fun! They both like to play, so I’ve got plenty of time playing with them. We go racing on the plains, have a picnic in the woods, or play chess and other board games at home. Oh! And they love video games too! We also play video games.

And my sire, he’s a wonderful bot. He’s fun, energetic. He talks a lot, which is sometimes a little bit annoying. Hmm. But he’s actually the decision maker in our house, kind of? Him and my carrier take turns being the brain. But because of my carrier’s “unstable” issue, sire did play the brain most of the time, though he sometimes came up with bad ideas and I had to stop him from dragging us all in.

My carrier is— very well known among us kids. The cool triple changer, the only one alive by now.* He is also not very stable, and we know that. Besides that, my carrier went through a lot in past wars. Sometimes he’s still haunted by his past ghosts. But he doesn’t need to worry, because I am always there for him.

*It’s my headcanon and part of the plots of Heroic Nonsense, where Blitzwing’s triple changer form came from a secret experiment project carried out by autobots. The project failed because most of the subjects suffered serious complications— they developed split personality disorders and became overly aggressive and easier to get killed in the battlefield. Blitzwing is the only survivor.

Clobber:

Hmm, I don’t know. I guess I’m lucky to be my parents’ child. I’m happy and comfortable living with them. My parents knew each other for very long before I was born. They have a tacit understanding that made everything simple. We three are quite alike as well.

My carrier is the brain of our family. It’s easy to tell. Sire even calls her “General” as a loving nickname. And also, she’s really my role model. Her talents go beyond military strategies. She has wisdom and courage to deal with a lot of trivial stuff as well. As for my sire, he’s more of a kind-hearted, good tempered bot. He cooks really well and takes all the gardening work. By that I mean, work like making a fishpond in our backyard. More delicate job like planting is done by me. I heard that they were notorious decepticon war machines in the past. I always imagine how badass they can be! But I don’t have the luck to witness that. All I got are two big bots fond of their own hobbies and get along well with the neighbors.

Just for the reminder:

Skystrophe— Megatron and Optimus’s son, Megatron is the carrier

Jinglestorm— Blitzwing and Bumblebee’s daughter, Blitzwing is the carrier

Clobber— Strika and Lugnut’s daughter, Strika is the carrier

More worldbuilding see my fanfic Old World, New World

[voidandabyssal]

Heeeyy, i don't know if you do platonic asks so you can ignore this if you don't

A random scenario popped up my mind and i cant stop thinking about it, ok so the star boys with a teammate that is basically a tired dad/mom for them

i just imagine them being tired as heck and Dream, Blue and ink running in circles around them, or them protecting the boys from error or nightmare with a big BONK on their heads

I wanted to see your take on this, how the star bois would behave around their tired ass dad/mom friend lol. (Lmao i can't stop seeing error and the dad/mom friend having a absolute HATE for each other while ink is in the corner like this:🧍‍♂️)

[I deeply apologize if there's any translation errors 🙏]

No need to apologise! I love doing all types of asks, platonic ones are awesome! This was fun thank you for sending an ask in!❤️

Parent friend definitely has their hands full with the star sanses. One on one isn’t so bad most of the time but those three all have the potential for great amounts of chaos that triples every time they’re close to one another.

It’s like herding cats trying to keep them all healthy, happy and fed. They definitely run circles around you, especially Blue with his insane amount of energy. You’re going to get very strong from the amount of times you carry them by the scruff of their neck.

In fights your main tactic to protect them is just by yoinking them away from Nightmare or the bad Sanses and hauling ass away from them. You probably don’t have the same level of magic power as anyone else in a fight does, so you substitute by being extremely strong. BONK! Indeed anon. Thats your signature move in fact. Error and Nightmare learn to fear your bonks in battle.

Error despises you. He literally develops a fight or flight reaction every time he even hears you approaching him. It is on sight with you two. Poor ink is just standing in the corner trying to get you to both get along before just giving up and joining the fight.

(This is you and error⬆️)

Nightmare despises you less only because you tend to avoid him in fights unless its a direct one on one with dream. In which case you’re getting involved LOL. The bad Sanses (Killer, Dust, Horror) enjoy watching the times when you’re kicking Errors ass instead of theirs.

Blue and Dream appreciate your care the most. Dream is very touched by your care, especially in the early stages of your friendship. He’s so used to having to be the caregiver that experiencing someone trying to help him, he finds it foreign at first. Dream’s suspicious of you initially. You barely know him and yet you’re showing such care, he can’t help but be reminded of all the villagers in his au who were kind only to take advantage of him. Once he senses your aura of kindness and care does he fully relax around you.

Dream learns to relax around you, when it’s just you two he doesn’t feel like he has to put up this brave front. He can be tired around you, tell you his fears, his worries. Without being worried that his public persona as this beacon of positivity will be stained. Dream also (eventually) learns to stop self sacrificing for others and give everyone else the chance to help out.

Blue is second place, only because he’s so used to taking care of people and being cared back (Blues the only one with a loving, living family lmao). He understands your want to care for others the most and encourages you to train and get stronger, while also making sure you don’t burn out at the same time. You spend a lot of time with Blue training together, cooking food for the other two, etc. You also spend the most time in Blues au. So you’re close with his brother as well.

Now don’t get me wrong, Ink does appreciate you a lot as well. Ink is absolutely the type to get so caught up in something he forgets to eat or sleep. So having you around is good in keeping him in tip top shape.

If you’re creative then the two of you definitely spend time in the doodlesphere drawing. Ink is always interested in what your drawing. You could give him a stick figure drawing and he would still be really excited and give you tips to improve. If your hobby isn’t drawing then Ink is definitely still interested in what you’ve made. Music, knitting, dance. Ink loves to see others create! Especially his good friends.

You also help Ink learn to manage his vials. You record down what having a specific amount of each paint does to him and help figure out how much he needs in order to feel the full range of emotions.

Ink just wishes you would stop attacking Error on sight. Especially if the two have agreed to not get in each other’s way anymore.

[sagetheomnivore]

Can someone help choose which fic I write?

I have an AO3 account where I write Dreamsmp fanfictions (I don’t support the toxic content creators) and I currently have two fic ideas that I can’t choose between. So these are the options for anyone who wants to read this little rant about each of them. (These are not prompts. These are my ideas. You can take inspiration but please don’t write these yourself)

option 1: Tommyinnit-centric. Revolves around SBI. Set in an original fantasy world. There’s two kingdoms. Tommy is from the darker kingdom, full of mythological monsters. The rest of SBI is from the neighboring kingdom, full of more friendly enchantment. You know how it goes. Found family fics. If you asked me to summarize it to one sentence, it would essentially be “Tommy commits illegal border crossing and accidentally gets adopted” Some other small details: 1. Phil is a baker, single father of Wilbur. Kristin is the queen, single mother of Techno. Wilbur and Techno are best friends and there’s a sub plot of them trying to get their parents together. 2. Tommy has an unidentified chronic illness that causes fatigue, weakness, and sometimes lightheadedness. 3. Niki is a witch. We love to see it. 4. There’s occasional references to the song Harpy Hare.

Option 2. Tommyinnit centric. Revolves around bedrock bros. Has anyone watched that Barbie movie where she gets trapped inside of a video game? Because it’s like that but graphic. Since it’s a pvp game in a randomized setting (Sort of like the hunger games). Hear me out please- Wilbur (Tommy’s brother) plays that game a lot, with his alleged online friend Techno. Tommy just so happened to steal the controller when this mass phenomenon happens that causes a bunch of players to be well.. trapped in the game. Unhinged, I know. But Tommy finds Techno in the game and they have to survive until further notice. Some extra details: 1. By the start of the game, everyone is kind of working together. But eventually the idea comes up that “what if the last man standing gets let out?” and that’s when other players are threats too. 2. Tommy is 13. Techno is 17. Techno will also be written with some level of fear because before this, he is NOT an intimidating blood god as seen in most fics. He was literally just some guy who plays video games. So he’s a little more held together than Tommy but I’m trying to make it realistic. 3. All players are stuck in the bodies of their avatars. Which are made to look like their dsmp selves. So Tommy looks a lot like c!Wilbur for half of the fic, since he had stolen the control from Wilbur. (Changes later). 4. There’s details to remind you it’s a video game. Techno complains of the constant music playing, but Tommy can’t hear it because before this, Wilbur had that setting muted. And whenever Tommy gets close to a raised platform, he accidentally jumps onto it, because Wilbur had auto jump on. They eventually figure out that they can change the settings somehow

Anyway, what do I write first?

[efa-solheim]

It brought an immense amount to comfort to Efa’s heart to know he was willing to meet her where she was, as far as her experience with science went. She had trouble admitting it, but it was a visceral insecurity of hers, when she stood next to Viktor: an academic inadequacy, which she was afraid would turn him away. A relieved look came over her, offering him a trying smile as she let his words wash over her. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you feel that way,” she said. “Hopefully my varied hobbies prove to be worth your time.”

Seeing Viktor continue to eat sparked something in her, reminding her to take another bite. She was so engulfed in the conversation, it nearly slipped her mind why they were there to begin with. She cut a bite of her waffle, taking it and following it with another swig of juice.

“Oh, they would’ve been best friends, I’m sure of it,” she reinforced, taking another bite. After a moment, “I was easily attached to other people as a kid, I couldn’t really help it. I really liked playing with the other kids in the Lanes, but my parents were cautious. I know, though, had little Efa kicked someone’s ass for little Viktor…” She squinted one eye, dwelling on the thought. “They would be in it for life after that. I’d show you my favorite spots. You’d be coming to my house all the time, like, every day if your mom let you. My mom always liked meeting my friends, whatever friends I had. You could meet the farmhands, the animals… everyone. A whole new ring of friends for little Viktor.” As she paused to take another bite of her waffle, she smiled to herself, relishing in the thought. “Who knows, honestly. By now we would have been friends for, like… fifteen years at least. Not sure—I don’t know how old you are and I’d hate to ask,” she disclosed.

There was something consistent, almost rehearsed, in the way Viktor traced her back as she wept. She slowly released a breath she had been holding until he tightened his embrace around her, and she allowed herself to relax in the weight of it. “Thank you,” she whispered. She brushed away the remainder of her tears, taking in a long, slow breath through her nose, then exhaling. As she continued to dry off her tears, she gave him a heartened look. “You’ve been very kind to me, I appreciate everything you’ve said—I trust you. I’m fine. I promise, I’m done crying now,” she reassured, yielding a small laugh.

when Efa agreed to go to dinner, viktor felt even more excited than he had before. ever since he was little, he’d dreaded endings, afraid they meant he’d never see the people he said goodbye to again. to know she still wanted to spend time with him made him thrilled.

grabbing his coat from the rack near the door, he led her out of the lab, locking it behind him before they made their way outside. it was cold, and when he noticed she had no scarf, he offered his own, unwilling to let a friend go cold.

“here we are,” he declared when they reached the diner, the bell jingling when they stepped inside. “it’s never too busy here, which i like. order whatever. i’ll pay.”

( @efa-solheim )

[madigoround]

So this woman merged into my lane all of a sudden this morning no warning just swerved not even an inch in front of me and kept driving in my lane nearly hit my car we got in a screaming match and I was genuinely angry enough to kill this woman which is not how I prefer to start my day and I’ve been trying to brush it off and nothing is really working do you know that weird feeling when it’s like you can feel that something big almost happened? Like when you drive home a few minutes later than normal and find out there was a huge crash there a few minutes before and you’re stuck on the thought that if you hadn’t been running late it could have been you and I’m still so angry but I’m also ashamed at myself because I was actively convincing myself not to get out of the car and strangle her with my bare hands and that’s not the kind of person I want to be and also not as important but I started reading a fic a while ago that was supposed to be lovey to try and calm down and it’s been full of angst and that’s not helping lol I don’t even know why I’m typing this I just feel weird about it

[lazylittledragon]

you know what fuck it we’re doing dadstarion

[puppppppppy]

my mom read my copy of Our Dining Table and she brings back onigiri after visiting Lola and told my brother about using a donabe. Is this what being loved feels like

[hana-bobo-finch]

a strange trend in my favorite characters I realize is that I tend to heavily gravitate toward somewhat obscure, antagonistic forces

[pixlokita]

Hey Pix, how do you think 3 star Vanessa and Gregory see each other? Does Gregory think of Vanessa as a big sister, auntie or parental figure and vice versa for her?

they are

-drum roll-

Found family babeyyyy!!!

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[nyamcot]

Bought super mystery dungeon n it’ll be the first time in a rly long while that I’ve gotten to play one of the newer pmd games, other than gti