#it will need a happy ending though like instead of changing his size (unhealthy like binding too much) he instead gets

[imflyingfish]

Whump (ish) fic about gorgug using a modified enlarge reduce spell to make himself the size of Riz to make the first family dinner with his parent's family since the thistlesprings adopted gorgug go well. And then after the dinner he starts using the spell more often repeatedly to the point that its ~bad~ for him to combat dysphoria from him being too large. And its an allegory for masking and being trans

[ganymedesclock]

Ooh ooh ooh, how about your version of Sonic for the powers thing?

You see, Sonic is fast, because if he doesn't keep ahead of his problems, he'll have to actually think about them, and then he'll have a crisis.

This is partially a fun opener joke and it's also not. I'll let you decide how much of each it is. In the meantime, I'm going to talk about what my reads of various canons inspire in me, and how that informs Worlds AU, a bit more than talking about Worlds AU itself.

So Sonic in the initial game canon, started out with an extremely simple conceit. You can see this mirrored across all of the non-Amy classic characters: Sonic runs, that's his thing; Tails flies, Knuckles punches, Eggman makes robots and also problems, which sort of condenses into one thing considering the role robots have in the classic games.

(that damn caterkiller has cost me SO many attempts at a chaos emerald...)

This sort of got to be a problem as the games advanced. In particular, the Sonic game I started on was Sonic Adventure 2, which pitted Sonic very prominently off of Shadow. At this point, character concepts are no longer about simple capabilities, and every other member of the cast has grown up. (even Amy... though not too much. sorry Amy). Tails is now building robots to go with how his flight allows him to reach unconventional 'tricky' routes; Knuckles is now more of an adventurer, explorer, and even a mystic given his history and relationship with the emeralds. This earthly pugilist sense grounds him in a more versatile skill-set.

Sonic... basically his gimmick was remaining true to the classic formula- he was still the one going fast, popping those shuttle loops, and tumbling through a chaotic universe. Yes, they absolutely polished this and put flourishes on it- now he's grinding rails and flipping on poles, this sense of street-smart parkour that carries him cheekily through any environment...

But he's played off Shadow, where the thing about Shadow, especially in the first game, is Shadow is a person who suppresses most of his personality for his context. Not in an inorganic or badly written sense, mind- but he outright says to Rouge at one point that it doesn't matter if anything he remembers is fake- in essence, that it's more real than he is, and a dead person's wish is more important than his life.

Shadow is a soldier, is an alien, is a bioweapon, is a teleporter and he shoots lasers. We are beyond the days of simple conceits; if he was conceived in the classic era, he'd have probably been either only a jet-skater or a teleporter, and that one conceit about how he moved through the world would've been through everything.

Sonic picks up the chaos control from Shadow- in direct reaction to Shadow- and this is commented on. In this scene, Sonic not only rejects Shadow's unhealthy obsession with context- that where he came from was everything- but mirrors it with an attitude that, frankly, to me, rings just as unbalanced- Sonic basically denies having a backstory whatsoever.

"What you see is what you get!" he says.

And that flew in the classic era. We didn't really have a consistent or strongly-drawn backstory over why Sonic was fast. Most continuities around that era point it to either an accident or a happenstance synergy with an outside force. But we didn't really need a story over why Tails can fly or why Knuckles had spurs on his fists.

But in the modern era... there's context. Many characters have superpowers. And more and more, there was a sense that those superpowers had context and history, whether the outright spelled, like Shadow (he was engineered to be capable of this; if you look at him, he has most of the abilities you'd expect of a boss fight in Resident Evil, minus the squelchy, infectious sorts and the Black Arms imply he could well have those and just not use them)

...or the simply alluded, such as Blaze's ominous comment that her flames are the reason she was always alone.

Sonic... clearly has powers. He's been reframed to keep up with he setting as it changes. But that exchange between him and Shadow- where Shadow looks at what Sonic is capable of, looks at him, and asks, verbatim, "what are you," and Sonic delivers a non-answer so naked and so certain that there's not really anything to say to that.

To this end, while I think it's highly intuitive that they picked the wind as the motif to spice Sonic up to- with its sense of freedom, and with its association with speed- I think there's also something about air in general that connects to Sonic.

Air is... omnipresent. It has an extremely complex seething system high overhead. Enormous paths and belts and spirals of wind curl over us all the time, pushing clouds the size of entire states around like it's nothing. When you look at the sky, it looks stationary. But wait, squint- it's actually moving. It's actually moving really fast.

One of my absolute favorite characterizing moments of Sonic is in Archie Comics, specifically the post-reboot series. To keep context minimal, Tails confides in Sonic that he's losing his memory of a certain incident that affected both of them, and he's worried; Sonic reassures him, typical hero big brother best friend, and gives him a big hug. The scene is warmly lit.

The very next panel is literally in the shadows, over Tails' shoulder and behind his back. And Sonic's expression is... troubled. Telling. We immediately understand from that alone he just lied, and has no ability to 'just remember for Tails'.

Sonic is not a vacuous person. He's not empty, he's not innocent, and he's certainly not just your same good nostalgic friend who never changed or got complicated so you don't have to reevaluate all of those things- the guy you can always count on, just like the sky is always there- but he sure pretends to be all of those things, and tries to keep the stormy weather as far away from other people as possible.

This is given another heroic-sounding-but-actually-concerning context in Sonic Unleashed, one of several games in which Sonic shows a maybe suspicious but profound aptitude for darkness where he guzzles and serves as a very powerful conduit for the energy of Dark Gaia, who is strongly connoted with rage, despair, denial, and other states considered bad for your health.

Sonic asks Chip- who he's just found out is Dark Gaia's counterpart- if it was his protection that kept him from losing his mind the entire time. Chip denies this, and states instead it's that "you never let the darkness win."

The thing is... anger and sadness are actually pretty important to feel. And it's actually not true that Sonic as a character doesn't feel anger- there's a few rather notable scenes in which he really loses his cool, some of them within Sonic Unleashed itself (he actually scares Eggman at the culmination of the Egg Dragoon fight) and in the game Sonic and the Secret Rings he actually achieves a super form powered by negative emotions- and that game also ends on a surprisingly melancholy note, where Shahra, when leaving Sonic, specifically gives him a bunch of tissues, a nod to how they met, and specifically "So you can cry as much as you need to."

Sonic is a good person. But Sonic is also... kind of a liar. He has this powerful connection to these highly destructive and dangerous entities- Dark Gaia, Chaos- and this is a thing he, pointedly, doesn't wonder about. And it's not arrogance, or an inability to consider the possibilities- in Sonic Colors he is very real with himself that he can't outrun a black hole, but only admits that once Tails is out of earshot on the one safe ride away from it- and while gearing up to try to do so anyway.

Wind is a contradictory thing. In the sky, we consider the possibility of ultimate freedom; flight and wings are often depicted as symbols of enormous power and efficacy because the very notion of being able to go wherever you want to captivates us.

On the other hand, though, a state of freefall is terrifying. In the unparalleled freedom of the sky, absolutely nothing can catch you if you fall.

(you know, except Tails, if you're fighting Eggman in Marble Garden- I'll leave)

We can talk about a bolt from the blue, a sudden storm or a just-as-sudden clear blue sky... the mechanisms of the air around us are often very hard to perceive for their superficial simplicity. And on sunny days when the wind lazes slowly through the leaves, it's hard to think of it as capable of hurricane forces.

I guess the note I want to leave this on is, it's pretty interesting how Sonic genuinely likes running, but he also tends to either outrun or fight anything that stresses him out- and "what he is" and "what he's capable of" is something he really doesn't like talking about even if he's happy to show or compete it.

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [seventeen] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.3k

author’s note — Just a heads up to everyone, school started back up again so chapters might take some time to be released.  And there’s probably going to be only three or so chapters left until the epilogue.

masterlist

Being back home never felt so good.

Stepping inside of your house, you felt instant warmth, turning around to see Jungkook trailing right behind you with Minho right beside him.

Everything was different now—and in a good way this time. As you stared into Jungkook’s eyes, you now had a sense of fondness and yearn for him, instead of pain and heartache like you used to have before.

“Feels good to be home, huh?” Jungkook smiled down you, heartwarming at the sight of the same smile on your face as you nodded your head. He then placed Minho’s suitcase down on the ground beside the door, you doing the same with yours. “Well, I better hand out—”

“Appa, where’s your stuff?” Minho suddenly asks, staring up at Jungkook confusingly.

“Oh,” Jungkook eyes widened slightly at his words, causing him to glance at you and shrug his shoulders, not knowing what to say.

That’s when you grinned at him. “They’re still in the car, appa has to go get them.”

Jungkook’s eyes may have been wide, but after hearing your answer they were nearly bulging out of his head. He stared at you, trying to see if what you were saying is true, and when you nodded his heart skipped a beat.

“Yay!” Minho cheered loudly, clapping his hands. “Appa is living with us again.”

Minho ran off to his room, and when he was gone Jungkook turned towards you. “Are you sure you want me back? I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing his, allowing me to move back—”

“Jungkook,” you smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. You can move back here, it’s your house too. But you’re staying in the guest room for now, is that okay—”

“Yes, yes!” Jungkook quickly interrupted, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” He couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face. “I’ll do anything to come back home.”

You simply nodded, lowering your head to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“I’ll go get my suitcase then.”

While Jungkook went back to the car, you brought both yours and Minho’s things upstairs and began to unpack. It hasn’t even been ten minutes yet until your phone started ringing, Cho’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey girl,” you answered, pressing your phone against your ear as you continued to unpack your clothes, returning them into their original places, whether that be your closet or large dresser. “What’s up?”

“I heard you’re back, is that true?” You hummed in reply, shoving one of your pants into a drawer. “Then can you come to the office real quick? Jaehyun needs to talk to you��it’s urgent.”

“Can’t he just call me?” You ask, releasing a sigh and in the background you couldn’t help but hear multiple voices going on, some of them even sounding loud and chaotic. You’ve been home for about two hours and they already wanted you to come into work—and it’s nearing five in the evening too.

“He’s busy right now, it’ll be easier if you just come here.” Cho replied, hearing her mumble something to someone in the background in the process. Just as you were about to argue, she quickly added in a quiet voice, “I’ve got to go so hurry,” before hanging up on you.

You shoved your phone into your pocket with an exasperated groan falling from your mouth.

Grabbing a coat, you rushed out of your room and down the stairs only to run into Jungkook coming in the opposite direction with his phone in hand.

“I’ve got to go,” you both said at the same time. Jungkook cleared his throat and gestured you to go first, which you then did.

“Cho just called and asked me to come down to the office real quick, something urgent happened and she said Jaehyun needs me there.”

Instantly, you noticed the way he tensed at the mention of Jaehyun but nodded understandingly nonetheless. “Yeah, Namjoon-hyung also called and asked me to come down to the studio and do some song recordings. It shouldn’t take long, just doing the lines that I missed while being gone.”

“Okay, what about Minho? It’s late and we can’t get a babysitter last minute.”

“I’ll take him with me,” Jungkook offered in an instant. “I’m sure the others will be happy to see him again, it’s been too long.”

You nodded, “Okay, we’ll meet back here then?”

“Yeah, and I’ll pickup some Chinese takeout for us on the way back home.”

“Sounds good.”

After saying goodbye, you both went your separate ways, you heading in one direction while Jungkook and Minho went in the other.

Entering Jung Enterprises, you immediately greeted with nothing but complete chaos around every corner.

Questions arose in your mind when seeing many employees, people who you didn’t bother learning the names of run past you with files and or boxes in their hands. You tried to stop and ask one of them what was going on, but they would only mumble out a quick reply, saying how they were busy and unable to help you.

Realizing that you weren’t going to get any information out of anyone, you took the elevator up to the top floor where Jaehyung’s office was, and when entering the room, you were greeted by the sight of his back as he talked to someone on his phone.

“You don’t have to worry, sir.” Jaehyun paused, turning around to glance at you and you swore you could literally feel the awkward tension shared between you two as he held his finger up before continuing his conversation. “Everything should be packed and moved out out of here by the end of this week. Alright, goodbye sir.”

You raised a brow confusingly at his sentence.

“Sorry about that,” hanging up, Jaehyun placed his phone down and leaned guest his desk, facing you. “Just had to finish a last minute phone call—welcome back, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head. “It feels good to be back home.”

“How was the trip?”

“It was—good,” answering hesitantly, knowing that any topic that had any relation to Jungkook was a touchy subject for him. And even though you were careful with your words, you could still see the way Jaehyun’s jaw clenched and eyes staring down to avoid yours.

Jaehyun simply hummed in reply. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come here at such a late notice?” He asks, changing the subject.

You nodded, taking a seat at one of the chairs across from him—barely a feet away from where he was standing.

“The company’s moving,” and just from hearing those three words made your eyes widen, but you chose to stay silent. “While you were gone I had a meeting with a sponser who is interested in doing a full partnership with our business. And in order for our companies to work together, our company must move to where their headquarters is at—” he suddenly pauses, hesitation clear in his voice. “—which is in California—Los Angeles precisely.”

That’s when your widen eyes nearly fell out of your skull. “C-California? As in the United States, California?”

Jaehyun nodded.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You question, “I mean, Jung Enterprises started in South Korea. It’s one of the most successful and largest companies in the country. I’m sure not everyone is going to move across the world, so that means there’ll be lots of layoffs. People won’t be happy about that,” your voice trailed off near the end, not knowing whether or not you were crossing the line.

Back then you were able to talk freely around him, but after everything you been through with each other, you weren’t so sure now.

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Jaehyun nodded again. “But after going over the numbers with some of the accountants, we’ve learned that our profits can nearly triple in size if we do this partnership. Moving is the best choice for my company, regardless of how many people will be unhappy because of it.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but chose to remain silent. “I understand, sir. If you think that moving the company is the best decision then I support you one hundred percent.” You then ask, “But I’m confused, why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“Y-You what,” you gaped, eyes wide. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jaehyun asks, tilting his head as he stared at you confusingly.

“Because of Jungkook,” was on the tip of your tongue, but you found yourself only able to say “Because of Minho. He has friends here, close friends and my family is also here. He’ll have to restart with school, meet new people. Those kind of things aren’t easy for a kid. And plus, we’ll be alone over there—”

“You’ll have me,” quickly spewed out of Jaehyun’s mouth, making you freeze and stare at him with shock.

You opened your mouth, struggling to find the right words to say. “Jaehyun, I—” you suddenly paused, nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously. “What about Jungkook, then? I can’t just take Minho away from him.”

“He has money, he can visit.” Jaehyun snapped, making you slightly flinch, and when he saw you staring down at ground, trying to avoid his eyes he knew. “It’s not just because of Minho or those other problems, isn’t it? It’s because of him.”

You stayed silent.

“A-Are you two working things out?” And again, you chose to stay silent which made Jaehyun roll his eyes and scoff. “I can’t believe you’re actually forgiving him that easily. You’re so stupid—”

“Excuse me,” you stared at him with disbelief, your gaze replaced with annoyance. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how any of this is your business. It’s my family—not yours.”

“You’re making a big mistake, {Name}.” Jaehyun’s jaw clenched. “What if later on in the future things don’t work out between you two and you both still get a divorce? You won’t have a job, and you’ll be alone—”

“Then I’ll deal with it if that time comes!” You exclaimed, eyes filled with rage and hands balled up into fists by your side. “I know you’re doing this because you don’t like Jungkook and nothing will make you happier than to have me all to yourself but—”

“Oh my god,” Jaehyun sighs frustratingly. “Jungkook is not the reason, I’m doing this for you and Minho only. Just think about it, please!” He was now shouting back as well. “He’ll have a better education there, and you’re salary will be doubled. You’ll even have a nice penthouse in our company’s new building that’ll be fully paid off. Life will be better there—”

“That’s enough, Jaehyun.” You interrupted him, standing up from your seat so that you were now eye-level with him. “I’ll just save you the trouble and give you my verbal resignation right now.”

You turned and headed towards the door but stopped when Jaehyun suddenly called for you. “Wait,” turning around, you watched as he then walked up to you and handed you a thin file. “Just think about it, alright? Everything you need to know about the transfer is in here.”

You sighed, your harden eyes softening when seeing the hopeful glint shining in his own ones.“Fine...”

Taking the file, you glanced at him one last time before stepping out of his office and leaving.

Jungkook couldn’t help but admire the sight across from him through the clear class window. Standing inside the recording booth with a microphone against his lips and headphones over his head, he watched as Minho sat and bounced on Jimin’s lap while playing on his phone.

Jungkook could tell they were taking pictures judging from the funny facial expressions they both were doing.

“Alright, I think you’re done.” Namjoon spoke up from behind the glass, turning off all the devices. “Good job.”

Jungkook nodded, removing his headphones before stepping out of the small booth. Before he could even fully close the door Minho was already running up to him and flashing Taehyung’s phone at him. “Look appa, look at the pictures me and samchon took together?”

Glancing down and squinting at the screen, Jungkook chuckled at the different pictures of his son and his hyung, some were filters that changed the appearance of their faces and some were just of them doing silly facial expressions. “Those are funny, bubs.”

“So, Jungkookie.” Jimin spoke up, gaining everyone’s attention. “What are your plans for tonight after you leave?

“Nothing, really.” Jungkook answered, shaking his head. “Probably get some Chinese food on the way home, eat, and then go to bed most likely. We’re all pretty exhausted after the flight.”

Namjoon nodded, “Well, I’m happy you two are starting to work things out.”

“You just better not fuck things up again...” Jimin mumbled underneath his breath but was still loud enough for the youngest member to hear.

Jungkook instantly covered his son’s ears with his hands and glared back at him before whispering, “I won’t, hyung. I won’t mess things up again—and no swearing in front of Minho.”

Jimin pursed his lips and held his hands up in surrender, earning a small giggle from Minho.

“Well, it’s getting late so we better get home.” Jungkook then spoke up, “I’m hungry and I know you are too, bubs—”

Suddenly, the sound of someone knocking interrupted Jungkook, making him stare at his two hyungs confusingly. “Are you two expecting anyone?” And when they both shook their heads, he glanced down at Minho and patted his head. “Stay with your samchons, okay?”

“Okay, appa.” Minho listened without any trouble, running over to sit back down on Jimin’s lap.

“I’ll go check it out,” Jungkook says before leaving the room and making his way towards the studio’s entrance. When approaching the door, he was expecting it to be one of the staff or maybe one of his hyungs. But he certainly wasn’t expecting to see the one person he never wanted to see again standing in the middle of doorway.

“Y-Yeonha,” stuttering out, Jungkook stared at the girl who stood in front of him with teary eyes and trembling hands. “What are you doing here?”

“W-We need to talk, Jungkook.”

and you thought things were going to be okay. now it seems both parties have their own issues to deal with.

what do you think is going to happen next?

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx, @yoongis-soulmate, @jikookvfans, @heartfeltscribblings, @blazedprince, @btsfaris, @sonderkook, @angel-moni, @http-je0n, @magic-fox-555, @moonfairyjoon, @taozibun1, @ephemeralkookie, @thesquiglybumblebee, @httpjazel, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @dreamer95, @singabon-roll, @its-your-dreamworld, @fancykoos, @galaxyeyedjungkook, @nlnkm, @you-need-namjesus, @teuteusstuff, @moon-asia, @julia-pacheco-blog, @0minabean0​, @pjmislovely​, @polly-wifu​, @jinsonaz​, @unsolvetheheckoutofit​, @multihoneyfairy​, @xavi-in-kpopland​

[madamewriterofwrongs]

“Let’s share my coat, since you’re so cold.” For Buddie plz bc imagine the potential 💛🥺

So sorry about the long wait, my darling. I hope you enjoy <3

Hold My Hand When No One’s Looking

911/Buddie

Honestly, Eddie hadn’t noticed it right away. He and Buck were relatively the same size (though the other man was a bit wider in the chest and arms) and spent much of their day in uniforms. It also so happened that the two of them had similar styles when it came to their civilian clothing. There was a lot of denim and a lot of circle-necked shirts in their shared wardrobe.

He’d known that asking Buck to move in with him would mean surrendering to the fact that everything he owned would slowly become ‘theirs’. His favourite show became their late-night binge, his unhealthy snack choices mysteriously disappeared whenever Buck was left alone to babysit Christopher, and one time he swore that his toothbrush had been moved – though he’d never been able to prove it. But Eddie didn’t mind, not really. Buck had already stolen his heart, so he’d happily let him steal the rest of his life.

Telling Carla that very thing when she’d asked him about his mismatched socks had earned him a side-splitting laugh and a text to Buck, who later teased him mercilessly for the rest of the week.

He still had no regrets about letting him in.

Because that was what you did where there was love and trust. You didn’t mind sharing because you had someone who wanted to share with you in the first place.

He was even becoming better at opening up about personal things. He still struggled to admit when he was scared or upset about something because for so long, he’d understood that expressing his feelings wasn’t his job. Though he knew better now, it was still a monumental task for Eddie to share some anecdote about his childhood or speak up when Buck said something that struck an errant nerve.

But it was worth it, he vowed. It was worth it to try, and he didn’t mind sharing those things with Buck. He didn’t think he minded sharing anything with his partner.

That is to say: he was fine, until he searched through his closet one morning, scrambling to get to work on time because someone had hit the snooze button one too many times.

“Where is my grey sweatshirt?” He threw the pile of clothes from the closet floor to the bed. “Where are any of my sweatshirts?”

“Laundry?” Buck called from the bathroom, poking his head out with a toothbrush still dangling from his lips.

“There’s no way I got every single one of my sweatshirts dirty since the last time I did the laundry.” As he continued his search, he could hear Buck rinse and spit before beginning his morning routine of styling his hair with way too much product for Eddie’s liking (though he’d never complain because it gave him a chance to play with his hair throughout the day until it was exactly to his preferences). Sure enough, he found a collection of clothes in the hamper that definitely resembled his but he did not remember wearing.

Though he did remember watching Buck spill ketchup on a grey sweater that looked suspiciously like his.

How had he not noticed before? How long had Buck just been taking clothes out of his closet? Why hadn’t he bothered to ask first? He would have been happy to share – well maybe not elated but he wouldn’t have minded – but for Buck to just take them without permission (and then get them dirty)? It bothered him more than he thought it should have.

He wants to wear your clothes, the untamed romantic portion of his brain swooned.

He’s stretching out your shirts without asking, the frantic portion grumbled as he searched for a wearable sweatshirt from the pile of clothes that had apparently become communal without his knowledge.

“Did you find it?” Buck reentered the bedroom, now looking much more put together than Eddie felt.

“I found something.” He grumbled as he threw the black shirt over his head, grimacing at the old clothes smell that lingered on the fabric. “When we get home, you’re doing laundry.”

Buck squawked as he threw on his own – clean – shirt. “Why do I have to do it?”

Because it’s your fault I don’t have any clothes to wear. If he’d had time, he might have launched into a lecture about why this small thing frustrated him so much. But alas, they were already running behind, so he silenced them both with a kiss.

“No complaints.” He gently ordered, smirking at the way Buck immediately melted under his touch. It was a nice reminder that the feeling of adoration was very much mutual between them.

“Okay.”

“Let’s go.” He smacked Buck on the behind as they stumbled out the bedroom door. “If we’re late again, Bobby will make us scrub the truck with a toothbrush. Again.”

After that morning, it was as though Eddie became hyperaware of how often Buck wore his clothes. At least twice per week, he’d find his favourite t-shirt in the back of his boyfriend’s closet, or search for several minutes only to discover someone else’s ass in his only clean jeans.

Once, he’d grabbed one of Buck’s pants in protest, but spent the entire day pulling at the inseam and ended up rolling the pantlegs just to avoid tripping.

And yet, when the boy with the giraffe legs wore his pants, it looked hot.

Did it look hot? Of course, Eddie had surrendered to his physical attraction to Buck long ago. Nearly anything that man wore would get him going. Was there something about seeing Buck in his clothes that made him look exceptionally appealing?

The day he pulled one of his nicer dress shirts over his head, only to find the sleeves had been completely stretched (and there were definitely a few seams missing) was the day he decided that no amount of sexiness would let him forgive Buck for stealing his clothes.

Maybe it was petty of him to start hiding his good clothes. And maybe it was immature to start separating their laundry – not to mention a waste of water – but at least he knew he’d have his own clean clothes to wear. It wasn’t like Buck was lacking for wardrobe. The man took up the majority of their shared closet with his selections. “Something for every occasion.” He’d told Eddie. Which made it all the more confusing that he would want to take from Eddie’s meager pile.

“Hey, Eddie, can I borrow your green long sleeve?” He asked as he searched the closet for the item without waiting for a reply. Of course, Eddie knew that he wouldn’t find the shirt amongst its brethren because he’d hidden it in a bin under the bed for this exact occasion.

At least he’s finally asking for permission. Too late for him, now.

“I don’t have a green long sleeve.” Eddie continued to dress with the picture of innocence masking his satisfied smirk.

“I’m sure you do.” Buck mumbled as he headed towards the dresser (also 70% Buckley). “I wore it to Bobby’s BBQ three weeks ago.”

“Oh, so he admits to wearing my clothes.” His mumbled sarcasm was intended to only pacify his own needs, but unfortunately, his boyfriend had excellent hearing at the most inconvenient of times.

“What do you mean ‘he admits’?”

Well, Eddie glanced at the alarm clock to confirm they had just enough time to get into their discussion, he might as well bring it up now instead of months in the future when it had grown into an even worse frustration and festered into every aspect of their relationship. Or they could nip it in the bud now.

Despite the topic of discussion, he was still surprised when he gave a long sigh and turned around only to find a very shirtless Buck standing before him. He was only momentarily distracted by the smooth lines and soft, exposed skin – he was only human – but he recovered with most of his dignity intact.

“You have so many clothes but you always wear mine. Why?”

Of course, Buck looked sheepishly adorable, and perhaps a little confused at the hostility being directed towards him. “I like your clothes. I didn’t think you minded.”

“Well I do mind. You keep stretching the fabric and then you get them dirty and I have nothing to wear.” Eddie was proud of his composure in the face such a stunned and sweetly wide-eyed expression.

“Oh, I-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

The logical portion of his brain knew very well that if Eddie simply told Buck that this was bothering him, he’d stop immediately. Why it took him so long to bring it up and then felt surprised by the outcome, he still wasn’t sure. One look at the sincerity on his boyfriend’s face and him reaching an arm to summon him to his side.

Buck took his hand immediately, letting himself stumble into Eddie’s embrace and throw his arms around his waist with practiced ease. This was comfortable. This, he could do: hold Buck close and tell him the truth.

“I don’t like that you didn’t ask me first if you could borrow my clothes. That bothers me more than a few ruined shirts (although, I’m still not letting you wear my green long sleeve. It’s one of my favourite shirts and I’d like to preserve some of the shape).” Buck opened his mouth to call out his lie from moments earlier but wisely closed it a moment later. “Just ask, okay?”

The man in his arms quickly nodded, a shy smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll ask before borrowing your clothes again.”

He knew he was being too cheeky for his own good, but how could he resist those kissable lips? “I’m sorry, I’m what, now?” Buck scrunched his face, preparing to protest, silenced a moment later by Eddie pulling him just close enough for their lips to meet.

Kissing Buck had quickly become one of Eddie’s favourite past times. A quick peck at work, a long reunion after a long day, a sloppy smooch against the truck after one of them had consumed too much alcohol but they were both drunk on each other (and he’d wisely kept that particular nugget of poetry to himself, lest he face more ridicule). The largest change when taking the sidestep from ‘best friends’ to ‘lovers’ had been their level of physical contact, which had always been comfortably close. Now, there was no space between them. No barriers.

But they still had to wear their own clothes. That was where Eddie drew the line when it came to sharing their lives. It was an arbitrary line, to be sure, but it was one to which he held firm. As predicted, Buck was quick to respect the line and stick mostly to his own wardrobe. When he asked to borrow a dress shirt or shorts, he made a habit of coming up behind Eddie and wrapping his arms around his middle, gently murmuring his clothing request in Eddie’s ear like a salacious secret. Was it a dirty move? Absolutely. Did Eddie cave every single time? Without a doubt. Did he respect that his boyfriend exploited his weaknesses? Somehow, it made him love him more. He also respected that Buck didn’t abuse his super power for every clothing item. He accepted Eddie’s distaste for ill-fitting clothing and always turned to his wardrobe first.

Miraculously, many of Buck’s clothes started getting thrown in the donation hamper – almost as though he hadn’t worn them in months or years and no longer had need of them. Soon enough, their wardrobe had evened out and Eddie could actually mark the distinction between his and Buck’s side of the dresser.

Suddenly he could breathe again.

“It wasn’t about the clothes.” Eddie informed him one night as they lay in bed.

Of course, Buck propped up on his elbows to face Eddie despite the darkness. “What wasn’t?”

“The clothes borrowing thing.”

“The clothes borrowing things wasn’t about the clothes?” It was understandable to hear confusion in his voice.

“I brought it up to Frank the other day. And we talked about why it bothered me so much.”

“You said that I was stretching out your clothes (which I’m choosing to take as a compliment, by the way).” As a show of comfort, Eddie ran a hand under the sleeve of Buck’s night shirt, only to laugh when his boyfriend pulled away a moment later. “Why are your hands always so cold?”

“Not all of us are a furnace.” He gently reminded, knowing it would go completely unmarked by the human stove. “And while I am definitely not a fan of you stretching my shirts, it wasn’t actually about that.” One thing he loved about Buck from long before their romance began, was his ability to wait for Eddie to gather the courage to continue speaking. He rarely prompted or interjected when time stretched between them; he gave Eddie the space to find the words.

“It felt like I was losing a part of myself when I saw you in my clothes.” Surely, he could find more words than that. “When I look around this room – when I look around the house – I see us. I see you and Christopher making a pillow fort even though I told you not to take the cushions off the couch. I see me and my son trying to bake a cake for your birthday and actually making one that was edible.”

“Well”

“Are you going to tell Christopher that you hated the cake he made you?”

It was a cheap shot but it hit its mark every single time. “Wow.”

“I see you and me getting ready in the bathroom the first time I told you I loved you.”

It was one of his fondest memories, and one he would treasure forever; the day he’d been brushing his teeth beside Buck, staring at the man who’d come to mean so much to him, and the words tumbled out (along with a glob of foam) before he’d realized how true they were.

“We are all over this house and I love that. But my clothes? They were this thing that was just mine – one little thing I didn’t have to share. And when you took them without asking, it was like you were taking more than just my shirt. If that makes sense.” Clearly, he was out of practice with this sort of discussion (and he ever had this sort of discussion?) because the rambling was making him lightheaded.

“It does.” He could feel his boyfriend shift in the moonlight to something less than a hover, relaxing onto his shoulder so they both faced the ceiling but still felt connected to each other. “And I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess it was that cliched thing where I like smelling like you and having a piece of you with me all the time.” Eddie willed his beating heart to calm.

“Buck, we live and work together, how are you not sick of having me around?”

Another wonderful thing about dating Buck was his newfound ability to feel his eyes on him from across the room. Even in the middle of an emergency, he could look up and find Buck and know what they needed to do. When he was at his side, the stare was overwhelming.

“I will never get sick of you.” Buck’s voice was filled with more emotion than Eddie had words to describe and yet he knew exactly how he felt. “But I won’t wear your clothes anymore.”

His instinct was to protest, to concede to Buck and let him have whatever would make him happy. It had been his instinct for most of his life: make sacrifices so his loved ones would be happy.

You are allowed to have what you want. Buck will still be happy.

He found Buck’s lips in the darkness. “Thank you.”

--

The scene was a mess. One kitchen fire had spread to several houses before emergency services were even called – Buck admired that the neighbours had all tried to deal with the problem themselves; Eddie thought they were idiots for trying to douse the grease fire with water and then continue to pour water when the flames grew higher. It was a simple enough task to put out the flames and get everyone to safety but it left foam and shivering bodies and bits of debris scattered from the lawn to the street. The cleanup took longer than the rescue, completely unaided by the mid-day son beating down on the scene, melting both foam and firefighter with equal measure.

Mercifully, Bobby was the first to remove his jacket and throw it on the pavement so he could work with more ease, leading the way for his crew to strip off their heavy turnout gear and throw it in a pile. While their equipment wasn’t any less boiling to the touch, they were at least given this small reprieve while they continued to work.

And if Buck and Eddie were separately caught distractedly watching their boyfriend work in their form-fitting pants and sweat-soaked shirts, that was an added bonus of just doing their job.

Once they were finally in a position to leave (after doling a few lectures and congratulations to the civilians who’d tried really hard and only made things worse), the crew grabbed their coats from the pile and headed back to the trucks. Eddie would never admit it, but sometimes, he was distracted by the mere sight of Buck. The blond was teased constantly for his so-called ‘heart eyes’ whenever he thought no one was looking, but Eddie knew he was just as bad. It was difficult not to – considering his partner’s attractive physical features – but even to admire Buck’s enthusiasm and heart were unavoidable when he let himself enjoy a moment of peace.

Life since they’d begun their romance had been calm in a way Eddie never imagined his life to be – because there never really was a moment of calm, and yet it was the most serene he’d felt in a very long time. Every day was an adrenaline rush of emergency calls and worrying for his son. He still awoke with nightmares of the past and future reminding him that every one of his failings had consequences. His wounds still ached in the daylight and his life was constantly in peril. He still stumbled over milestones when it came to raising Christopher without the mother of his child, and no amount of forgiveness could completely erase the shame he felt in asking for help. But through it all, through every loss and victory both at work and at home, he didn’t feel alone. He had a partner in all things who loved his son and tried every day to be there for the two of them.

He wished he could say he wasn’t surprised at how well Buck fit into their domestic lives but it had never occurred to him to imagine it until he was asking his boyfriend of six months to move into his home because so many of his things were there anyways. The first morning he awoke to fresh coffee and the smoke alarm screeching in his ear, it somehow sealed his fate: he and Buck fit comically well together.

And the man knew him in a way no one had (not his wife, not parents, not any friend he’d ever had). He liked to think he knew Buck just as well but he enjoyed every time that he discovered something new about his partner. It sent a shiver of delight through his bones when he realized that he never wanted to stop learning about this man who made him feel happy.

He did, however, need to talk to Bobby about ordering a new jacket because his current one was much too big, especially in the shoulder area. Which was odd because he didn’t remember having that problem earlier. Of course, Eddie rolled his eyes, he must have grabbed the wrong coat – probably Buck’s – which would explain his sudden lack of stature. As he swung the offending item off his back, he searched for his partner in order to toss the coat in his face (as one does when one is hopelessly in love with a dork), only to stop short when he finally caught sight of him.

Whether by accident or design, Buck had grabbed Eddie’s coat and was proudly wearing it as he went about his normal duties, completely unaware that the sleeves were just a little too short, and the back was stretched a little too tightly. In fact, it was stretched taut in a manner that displayed the LAFD logo and bright stripes for all to see; and right underneath was Eddie’s last name. Four letters he’d seen all his life were suddenly given a different meaning.

‘Diaz’ had never been just his, it has always been something he shared: first with his family, and then Shannon, and then to Christopher the moment he held his son in his arms. He had been lectured by May once about the concept of ownership and the woman having to take the husband’s last name as though she belonged to him. He was well away of the history of name changes in marriages and significance in contemporary society of couples choosing different ways to express their commitment to one another. Call him old fashioned – and he knew that he was – but he had never seen Shannon taking his last name as a symbol of ownership; to Eddie, it meant that they were a family. A clan. Together in all things. There was a sense of pride in knowing that his name would live on when he was gone and that he was able to share this thing with the people he cared for most.  

As if it were nothing at all, there was Buck, walking around in public with the name Diaz on display. Anyone who didn’t know them might believe that was his name. What would Buck say if a stranger called him ‘Mr. Diaz’ or ‘Firefighter Diaz’? Would he blush and smile, would he vehemently correct them, would he brush it off but realize he didn’t want to be associated with that name ever again?

Did he want that? Did he want Buck associated with his last name? There was no guarantee when they got married that either of them would change their names. Maybe, they could hyphenate.

When they got married.

Eddie didn’t ask for his jacket back.

--

Later, when someone asked him how dinner went, Eddie would have no earthly idea what they even ordered. He remembered confirming with Buck that they had reservations for their anniversary dinner, he remembered Hen picking up Christopher for his overnight playdate, he remembered kissing Buck against the bathroom door when he emerged in his dress shirt and tie, he remembered driving to the restaurant too afraid to hold his boyfriend’s hand because his palms were suspiciously clammy.

It was just a dinner at a nicer restaurant to celebrate their anniversary together. They’d had one of these already and a million dates in between. Yet it sent his heart racing every time. Not only was he a fan of Buck when he dressed to the nines (he loved that man in everything and nothing, but the tight dress pants were a treat) but it was also a celebration of their time together. Of how far they’d come as a couple and as individuals. Going out in public came with a small amount of anxiety and guilt, of course, but they’d worked through every setback as partners and would continue to do so.

On their first official date, Eddie had called Buck at 3am to inform him that they could never see each other again because he was betraying his wife’s memory by moving on. Another time, they had run into one of Buck’s previous conquests who was alarmingly cavalier about their sex history but incredibly judgmental about Buck’s current situation. Introducing Buck to his parents was more than a little nerve-racking (though significantly better than meeting the Buckleys for the first time) but had turned out amiably enough when they saw how much Eddie and Christopher cared for the man – and more importantly, how much Buck cared about Christopher.

Christopher had been his saving grace in so many ways, not the least of which was figuring out how to introduce Buck at school functions. ‘Boyfriends’ was the term they used most often but it still felt juvenile whenever he said it out loud. ‘Lover’ had made both of them double over in laughter, and ‘special friend’ was off the table before it had left his mouth. Though he’d never said it out loud, Eddie was saying the term ‘Partner’ for a special occasion.

The first time Eddie had brought Buck to the afterschool pick up so his teachers could meet the other adult with special permission to care for Christopher, he’d stressed to the point of tearing a small hole in the steering wheel cover about what to call him.

And then Christopher had run into his best friend’s arms and introduced everyone to ‘His Buck’ as though that name was the only explanation anyone needed. But it did the trick. Everyone greeted him with kindness and respect and when one of the teachers asked Eddie if this was, indeed, ‘His Buck’, all he’d been able to do was blush and nod.

They’d overcome every little thing that life had thrown their way. They could get through one little dinner.

“You have been fidgety all night.” Buck teased through another mouthful of garlic bread. Or maybe they couldn’t. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.” He lied. “I’m just tired. Long shift.”

“Boring shift. Four false alarms, seven car accidents, and one heart attack. I would have killed for a house fire or even someone stuck in a tree.”

“How would they have gotten stuck in a tree?”

Buck shrugged, stuffing another loaf into his mouth. “Maybe they were skydiving but the wind picked up and they got carried away.”

They continued their hypothetical discussion (which turned to the topic of craziest saves, most disgusting encounters, and most obvious lies) until their shared appetizer arrived and he realized how at ease he felt despite his earlier tension. That was another miraculous thing about being with Buck. Without meaning to – for he did it far too often to be intentional – he could pull Eddie from whatever wave was threatening to pull him under and keep him company by just being himself. They would talk and laugh and find companionship with one another until suddenly, the waves had subsided.

“Where’s my phone?” Buck patted his entire body, despite only possessing two pockets in which he could fit his cell. Upon finding nothing, he concluded “I must have left it in the truck, I’m just going to go grab it.”

When Buck reached for Eddie’s jacket pocket, knowing the keys were always in the right, Eddie felt a new wave of panic suddenly submerge him and he shouted “Don’t touch that!” too loudly for anyone at the adjoining tables to misunderstand him.

The way his boyfriend instantly paled, told him that no one had misunderstood his harsh reaction. Buck released the jacket, letting it fall to the ground, but hesitated to grab it. A thousand curses and warning bells echoed through Eddie’s mind, knowing full well how far his partner’s mind could travel down a dangerous path before he ever reached him.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he sputtered. “I know we talked about the clothes thing, I just forgot.” Only then did he finally reach a hand to take the jacket on the tasteless restaurant carpet. “Can I grab-”

“No.” He snatched the offending object before Buck could finish his sentence; flinging it away with such force that the contents of his pockets spilt onto the floor. Another curse barely left his lips before both men were on their hands and knees, scrambling to retrieve the objects.

Buck found it first.

“What’s this?”

Eddie froze with a hand on his keys, eyes locked on his partner – his best friend – holding the small velvet box that had once been housed in his jacket pocket. Abandoning all else, Eddie crawled to meet Buck beside the table. He breathlessly watched the other man examine the box, feeling the edges with sharp anticipation

A voice that wasn’t his own whispered in the space between them “open it.” With medical gentility, Buck pulled open the lid and Eddie watched his expressions shift as understanding took hold.

He’d been so careful, to the point of paranoia, about picking out the perfect ring. There had been incognito browser searches, late-night chats with Hen about same-sex protocol (for which he repaid her with many cups of espresso), and one very anxious expedition to the jewelers to find the perfect one. And right at the finish line, he fumbled over his own two feet.

The only memory that mattered, though, was the look in Buck’s eyes when he saw the ring and realized what it symbolized to both of them. What Eddie was asking for wasn’t marriage: it was everything. A life of sharing their darkest selves and celebrating every triumph. Being both an individual and a pair in equal measure – partners in every sense. Respect and trust and joy would become home, security would be a given; everything was asked with that circle bonding them together.

“I’m sorry for grabbing your jacket.” Buck whispered when he finally looked away from the box in his shaking hands. The laugh that escaped Eddie was barely more than a cry of barely restrained tears but it brought a smile to both their faces.

“It’s okay.” Neither could look away now that they’d found each other in the silence. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice. Did Maddie help you pick it out?”

“She offered when I went to ask for her blessing but this was all me.”

“You asked for her blessing? How traditional.”

“I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

“I know. Sophia told me what you did to her first boyfriend.”

“It was only meant to scare the guy. How was I to know he had asthma?”

“He was 15, you shouldn’t have done it anyway. I think it might be illegal now.”

“Oh my god.” Both men looked up at the waitress standing over them with their food in hand. “Will you ask him already?” A few chuckles from curious onlookers reminded them that they were still kneeling in the middle of a restaurant with Buck holding the ring he wasn’t meant to see yet.

The blush that crept on his partner’s face matched his own, but Eddie’s only focus was on fulfilling the server’s request.

“Marry me, Buck?”

His smile outshone the entire city of Los Angeles.

“Yes.”

As cheers erupted around them, Eddie scooted across the carpet to pull his fiancé into a kiss saturated with joy and laughter. His hands fairly shook as they clasped Buck’s cheeks to hold them steady but nothing else matter to him but that smile.

Slipping the engagement band onto his finger was prolonged by the trembling in both their hands but with time, he stared down at the circle, knowing it was finally where it belonged.

He only realized he had stared for too long when the waitress cleared her throat to grab their attention.

“If you folks wouldn’t mind taking your seats; these plates are kinda hot.” The men scrambled back into their booth, offering copious apologies to the woman who simply rolled her eyes and told them that dessert would be on the house. A handful of patrons offered their congratulations but Eddie rarely turned his attention away from the man across from him. Every time their eyes met for the rest of the night, he could feel the dopey-eyed grin that refused to melt away. He hoped it never did.

The evening had not gone the way he’d planned in any shape of the word but for years to come, he would relish in telling the story of their engagement, and of the full lives they shared together.

[c0leslawt0gata]

Mirio amusement park date hcs:

Foods/drinks:

- You guys definitely eat way too much food so much that y’all get sick

- Funnel cakes are a must

- He forcefully pays for everything (he doesn’t track his spending like ever)

- He buys the cute slushee cups that you can refill because he always drinks his super fast and needs a refill every 5 seconds

Rides:

- He tries to drag you on all the big rides but soon realizes that he has to start with the small rides first

- He eventually convinces you to get on a medium sized roller coaster

- Remember those funnel cakes? Yeah those decided to say hello....again..

- He agrees to go on water rides even though he knows it’s a trick to get his shirt wet so you can see his t i b b i e s through his shirt

Games:

- He always wins you something no matter what

- He obviously has to win you one of the goldfish

- He will spend unhealthy amounts of money on the ring toss game just to get you a giant stuffed animal

- You decide to win him something in return for all of his hard work (come on the man is s w e a t i n g)

- He somehow ends up winning a shirt canon....it wasn’t actually a prize he just charmed the man running the game into giving it to him

- He also decided to win you a second fish just because you’re that awesome!

PDA:

- This man is HUGE on PDA

- You can catch him leaving little kisses on your cheek, forehead, and just about anywhere he can reach

- Piggy back rides? Hell yeah!!! Wanna get on his shoulders? He is happy to hoist you up!

- He constantly has an arm around your waist or an elbow on your head- (if you have don’t like having your head touched he will put his arm on your shoulder instead)

- Holding hands is 100% on the table

Comfort:

- He most definitely brought a bag with water, headphones, gum, and a change of socks (in case yours get wet)

- Whenever he sees you chewing the inside of your mouth he goes ahead and offers you a piece of gum

- If y’all are in a louder area he will offer you your headphones or pull you off to a place that is a bit less loud and crowded

- If he sees you walking a little slower he might offer you some water

Teasing:

- He most definitely offers you food then eats it right in front of you-

- Whenever he wins you a prize he holds it above you so you can’t reach (if you’re taller than him then he will simply use his strength to keep it away from you)

- Sometimes he runs ahead of you just so you have to try to keep up with him

- He will talk really loudly about some things on purpose(usually making fun of you for not wanting to get on a roller coaster) just so people will hear him

Sorry if this was a little shitty but this is my first actual post and I hope you like it! <3

An extra thank you to @beeshatefan for helping me with this!! And I hope you will help me with more as I get requests or just have ideas!!! I couldn’t have done this without you and all your help! It truly means a lot to me.....thank you!

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Everything You Need | Billy Batson

Pairing (platonic): Billy Batson x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2k

Request: could you write an Ff with Billy Batson where s/o is his best friend who always makes everyone laugh, but in reality she is mega unhappy with her looks and hates herself? So she decides not to eat anymore, but Billy notices this and wants to stop her? Sorry if it’s too dark.

Warnings: angst, mentions of food and an unhealthy relationship with it, self-hate, depictions of worry/light anxiety, fluff, open ending.

A/N: I assumed anon meant “reader” instead of “s/o.” Either way, both the reader and Billy are 16 in this and the ending is open in case anyone wants a part two.

Gif credit @justiceleague

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Billy admired you. He didn’t consider himself a bad person anymore, but if he compared his attitude to yours, he fell short. You were the kindest soul he would ever meet, always giving your best to everyone, caring for and about your friends — you even helped strangers, offering to do things they couldn’t for whatever reason, and constantly making sure people around you were comfortable. You were the funniest person in his life, never failing to make people laugh, the nicest, one of the smartest.

You made people happy, you made him happy, and it worried him because he had observed you were acting weirdly lately. Maybe you were just tired because of school, or maybe he was getting too overprotective — he blamed you for the second one, but not in a bad way anymore. Not long ago he had found relying on people or having people rely on him pointless, frightening at times; Billy now saw it as less of a nuisance and more as a responsibility.

However it was hard, like every responsibility, and it not being his only one didn’t help. He was getting better at putting up with his teachers, though, that was something.

He turned around to look at you before the class started, as he did every day, but you weren’t there. Your usual seat was empty, again, it was the third time that week.

He looked for you everywhere, the art room, the gym, he asked around in case you had gotten there late, he faked having a headache to make sure you weren’t in the infirmary. Everyone but you were in the cafeteria at lunchtime, even Freddy had asked about you when he encountered his brother in the hallways, and by the time the school day finished, he was about to panic.

Billy sighed, relieved, finding you with your back against the big tree you usually made homework under. The park was almost empty apart from a couple sharing an ice cream at the bench meters away from the tree, but you didn’t seem to be paying attention to that.

“Hey.”

Wiping the tears running down your cheeks, you looked up with your eyes wide. “Billy! What are you doing here?”

Your best friend dropped his backpack next to yours, sitting down in front of you instead of beside you in order to fully stare at you. “What are YOUdoing here is the real question.”

Shrugging, you blinked rapidly. He would surely know it if you lied, Billy might be silly sometimes but never dumb — your only option was staying silent.

“(Y/N)? Is something wrong?”

How do you tell someone everything is wrong when you’ve fooled them for years? Hating yourself was easy, natural, but saying it ashamed you. You were utterly terrified he’d find it dumb, that he would think you had lied about everything just because you didn’t show how miserable you were when you simply didn’t want anyone else to feel as bad as you did.

“I’m stressed,” you opted for saying.

Billy nodded in understanding. He lightly placed his hand on your knee in a comforting gesture, “I will help you with all the school stuff, don’t worry!”

Faking a smile, you nodded back, hoping he would take his hand away quickly enough to not realize how plush your legs really were. You didn’t know if you thought it to be better if he didn’t pay attention to it or not which only made it worse.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Billy kept his word. Even though you didn’t really need help with school stuff you went with it, enjoying spending time with him and Freddy who didn’t need help either.

But the problem started when he showed signs of knowing you didn’t need help with homework. Billy noticed every change in your demeanor. Freddy teased him about it when he confided on his brother and best friend that you were acting differently, but Billy was too busy worrying about you to care if he was being teased or not.

The changes were startling, you were tired all the time, and jumpy. It was as if you were hiding something which wasn’t normal in you, sure you kept secrets but you never hid things — definitely not from him. The most worrisome part was how often you skipped lunch and the disgusted look on your face when you saw anyone with food in their grasp.

“Oh my god!” Billy exclaimed, making Freddy drop the bowl of cereal he had been eating for dinner.

“Wh—“

“I’ll tell you later,” Billy interrupted his brother, walking toward the front door. He put his jacket on, zipping it up before swinging the door open and leaving the house in a hurry.

How could it have taken him so long to figure it out? What kind of friend didn’t think something was wrong when one of the most important persons in their life stops taking care of themselves? Or when that person disappears at any time there’s food near them?

The way to your house felt so long that he considered summoning Shazam to get there quicker. He knew it was only the effect the nerves coursing through his veins had on him so he continued running, hoping your mom wouldn’t oppose to him being there that light. He hadn’t really considered it was a little late for visiting.

With no hesitation whatsoever, he rang the doorbell.

He smiled at your mom when she opened the door, “good night, Mrs. (L/N). Is (N/N) busy?”

“She isn’t feeling very well, Billy,” your mom explained, worry clear in her voice.

“Can I see her?”

Your mom looked at him for a prolonged moment. She was about to say no, to let you rest, when she saw the semblance Billy carried. He looked so worried, more than how she imagined she looked, and because of that she decided to spare the teen in front of her the anguish. “Of course, you know where her room is.”

Thanking your mom, he slid past her and made his way toward the stairway. He ran upstairs.

The door of your room opened out of the sudden, prompting you to turn the lamp on. Billy entered, not waiting for you to give him permission and not asking for it either.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, looking at you. The light from the lamp made your reddened eyes more prominent, confirming his assumption that you had been crying.

“Why?” he inquired, wild eyes fixed on your tired ones.

You mumbled, confused, “why what?”

“Why aren’t you eating,” he clarified.

Your heart dropped — a knot formed in your stomach as your pulse quickened. It was the most adrenaline you had felt in weeks, you were sure you would’ve thrown up by now if it wasn’t because he was right, you hadn’t been eating.

“I’m not hungry.” It was a pathetic lie, both you and billy knew. To make matters worse, your stomach rumbled seconds after you lied.

Your best friend glared at you. “(Y/N),” he said your name sternly, “Why?”

You turned your head to not have to face him. “I— I’m not— I don’t like myself.”

“Oh, come on, (N/N)! You’re the most amazing person in the world.”

“I don’t want to be that! Well, I do, yeah, but I don’t—“ your voice cracked, “I mean my appearance, Billy.”

“The only wrong thing with your appearance is how tired you look right now, I’m sure that’ll change if you eat and sleep better.”

God, for the smartest person you knew, Billy was either dense or was trying to force you to be more explicit.

“I’m trying to lose weight. Or at least not gain more,” you said quickly, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic as you felt.

And you did, oh, you did. You just wanted to be happy with yourself, it wasn’t a crazy wish to have, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t. Every day you found a new thing to hate about yourself, a new thing anyone could make fun of you for.

Billy stuttered, trying for his words not to come out harsh. It had been really hard to learn not to be abrasive. “Well, maybe you can’t, you know? Genetics have a play there...” he trailed off upon hearing your scoff. He shifted on the bed, now sat in a position that allowed him to fully face you.

He felt something in his chest by seeing you so upset. Similar to what he felt when his siblings had been in danger. Billy wasn’t sure he could save you, though, and it made him feel worse. His mind told him he needed to reprimand you, to make you understand, while his heart told him he needed to comfort you. He was too worried to find a balance, yet he still tried.

He placed a hand on your calf from on top of the duvet. He felt you tense under his touch. “You’re smart, you know it’s not the solution.”

“You’re not helping, Billy. We’ll never agree on this because you are not the one who feels like crap because of their looks.”

“But what looks!?” He exploded, “you’re pretty, (Y/N), you must know that.”

“But I’m fat!”

“That doesn’t change anything! And you are just putting yourself in danger.”

“Maybe I don’t care if I’m in danger,” you bitterly pointed out.

You saw the redness of his cheeks leave his face in a matter of milliseconds. His hand felt heavier on your calf as if he was trying to ground himself.

“I do care,” he said in a breath, “I care a lot. I don’t want to see you tired all the time, or have to see you in a hospital bed being fed through a tube, or...” he couldn’t say it, he didn’t want to ever think about the possibility of you dying.

Your bottom lip trembled. “I don’t want to worry anyone—“

Billy shushed you, “I know, I’m sorry.” He didn’t want you to feel guilty, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault per se. “I’m just scared for you.”

“I don’t want to be like this anymore,” you sobbed, hanging your head. Saying it gave you a mixture of anguish and easiness; having somebody to hear you was nice yet you couldn’t help but get overwhelmed by how vulnerable saying it made you feel.

Billy kneeled on your bed, pulling you into a hug with the side of your body against his front. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

You rested the left side of your face on him, letting the tears fall down. “I feel like it is.”

“There isn’t, I promise.” He sighed, feeling you shake as you attempted to stop crying. “(N/N),” he whispered softly, “there are other ways to do this. Maybe the answer is not the one you will like at first but your health is the priority.”

“I don’t like hating myself, but I can’t stop. I just want to look at my reflection in the mirror and not focus on everything that’s wrong with my body — I feel like people stare at me in the street and judge me and it makes me hate myself more, I just want it all to stop, Billy.”

Hearing that broke his heart, it truly did. It made him feel impotent to know he couldn’t fix it. What was the point of being a superhero if he couldn’t help all the people he loved? It wasn’t fair for you that he had the ability to save you from everything but your mind.

“We will find a solution,” he assured you.

“How can you be so sure?”

“We always do,” he squeezed you as tightly as he could, “but you have to promise me you will accept it, no matter what it is.”

“And if I can’t promise that?” You asked, scared he would stop being your friend.

Billy rested his chin on top of your head. “We will work on it, on everything you need.”

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 7

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on: Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki by @thefandomimagine  

Alright. 

Chemistry wasn’t as different from asgardian alchemy as Loki had worried. The occasional differences were subtle, but with enough questions to the young boy, he grasped the general idea behind his project fairly quickly. 

He still wasn’t exactly sure how you manipulated him into doing this, and that alone proved to be impressive. Annoying, but impressive anyway.

He glanced at you over the loose pages and notebooks scattered on the table. The cards had been discarded to the corner of the table. Peter kept on talking, buzzing with energy and questions, but Loki only listened to him partly. 

You picked up the phone and called what you promised was a fine restaurant, but the look on the boy’s face didn’t really do much to convince Loki. With all due respect, the boy didn’t seem the type to enjoy meals in fancy restaurants. It was only rational Loki would eavesdrop on your phone conversation eagerly in that case. It wasn’t even a proper eavesdropping since the matter discussed actually regarded him too. Right? 

“Yeah, yeah, and add some extra cheese and veggies for the boy, he’s still growing. As for the third one, I don’t know, wait a minute,” you took the phone from your ear and cooed sweetly to Loki, “My most scrumptious boy, what do you desire? Pepperoni or some extra hot chilli?" 

His brain refused to acknowledge what he heard. 

You rolled your eyes, getting back to the phone. "I guess pepperoni it is, he doesn’t really seem the garlic or chilli type. Yeah, and all the sauces. Thanks, sweetie." 

Loki closed his eyes. Counting to ten didn’t help. Peter’s questions didn’t help either. 

"Mr. Mischief, sir, are you okay?” the boy was leaning towards him, trying to read anything from his face with a look of worry on his own. 

“I’m afraid I’m having an identity crisis,” Loki muttered under his breath, so quietly the boy thankfully didn’t catch it. 

You heaved onto the couch next to Loki, perching your feet on the table. 

“It should be here in like 20 minutes, boys,” you said with a proud smile, ignoring the complete puzzlement on Loki’s face. “Is that okay?" 

Peter was more than happy. A huge grin almost split his face in two. Who wouldn’t like free pizza? 

Loki seemed impassive at best. You patted his shoulder. 

"What’s the matter, sweetie? You okay?" 

He closed his eyes. He felt very tired. He was only 5 thousand years old, but he felt the burden of every single one of them as if it were crushing him. 

"What’s with all those stupid names? Why do you insist on making my life so miserable?" 

"I use them to make your life less miserable." 

"It’s not working." 

"It’s not the right dose yet." 

Loki scoffed. "Any more will be lethal." 

"At least it will end your misery,” you shot him your brightest smile. 

Peter discreetly excused himself to the restroom. He felt like Mr. God needed a breather. Or maybe to finally snap? He seemed really tense, despite acting calm and composed on the surface, but that was probably because of all the godlike business. You seemed to work really well with him, though, despite your unpredictable personality. 

He needed to call Ned. 

You, on the other hand, shamelessly marveled at the rapidly changing colors on Loki’s face. Even when he was a hair’s width from snapping, he seemed to push himself back with some inhuman effort, and contain his emotions. 

“That’s unhealthy, you know?” you said. “You should let go of your anger instead of bottling it up. I’ve heard it’s really bad for digestion." 

He needed a nap. A good, long nap that would wake him from this nightmare of a day. 

"My health is just fine, thank you very much." 

"Don’t lie. You’ve been wanting to strangle me since the very moment we put these friendship bracelets on." 

Or maybe he wanted a knife. All the knives on him had been taken after he was captured. 

Loki turned on the couch to face you properly. He had a feeling the conversation he was about to start required proper, polite, and professional eye contact. 

Until then he didn’t even realise how close you were sitting. Well, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, the couch wasn’t that big. 

You had nice eyes, currently fixed on his with, oh sweet irony, a polite curiosity. Loki had almost forgotten that some people were still capable of looking at him without disgust or anger because of all the problems and death he brought on Earth. 

You cocked your head to the side. "You sure you’re okay?" 

Loki took a breath. It was time for some witty response. Something to relieve the sudden tension wrapped around him like a cloak two sizes too small. He wasn’t sure if he felt hot or cold, but he felt a lot of it. 

He couldn’t find anything cheeky to say. 

"I’m good." 

What a lame answer. 

Thankfully, you broke the tension first. You stretched your legs, still wearing the baggy sweatpants. You glanced at the window, and at the sun bathing the room in the warm evening. 

"So, how’s that project going?” you asked Peter when he entered the room again. 

He gestured widely to the messy notes on the table. 

“Actually… I think I’m done with it. Mr. Loki helped me through the worst part and now all that’s left is putting it all together before tomorrow’s Chem. Once again, thank you so much, sir, it was such a pleasure working with you-" 

You groaned. "Peter, you’re sweetening so much I can feel myself developing diabetes. Look, it was a pleasure to him too. He’s happy,” you patted Loki’s shoulder. 

Loki wouldn’t use those exact words. It wasn’t a nuisance, but pleasure was too big of a word… 

Peter cracked half a smile, looking carefully from Loki to you and back. “Well, that's… good, right? Better than… roaming through New York and all…?" 

It was Loki’s time to roll his eyes. Crossing his arms, he set his back straight, the tension clenching his muscles as if preparing for a fight. 

"Look,” he said sternly. “I’m not going to become one of your great superheroes, no matter how many mundane activities you tie me in-”

You snorted halfway through his declaration, badly covering it up as a cough. Loki sent you a confused look. 

“Dude,” you laughed out. “Who said anything about becoming a hero? It’s not a fairytale, there’s no good way or bad way - there’s your way. Just don’t be an asshole and we’re good." 

"That's… one way of putting it,” Loki admitted, carefully thinking it through. “And I must admit it sounds rather encouraging, despite the obvious simplifications. So what would you, in your great wisdom, suggest now?" 

The panel at the back of the kitchen flashed, signaling someone was on their way to that floor. You smiled. 

"I suggest pizza time." 

[daydreamindollie]

+idea/teaser ⏤ bts ot7 | seven cursed princes

⇢ hi there :3

⇢ sooo...i have another idea based on yet another manga that I am currently obsessed with

⇢ I recommend you all to check it out, it’s currently on a hiatus for season 2 but after only reading season 1, I’ve been struck with inspiration! 

⇢ the manga is called ‘Sincerely: I Became a Duke’s Maid’ by Jooara/Juara

⇢ give it a read, you won’t regret it! 

⇢ ANYWAYYYYY! 

⇢ lemme give you all a rundown on what I have in mind for my fanfic based on this amazing piece of art! 

⇢ be warned, there will be spoilers/hints on the general plot of the manga so if you would like to read the first 45 chapters aka season 1 of the manga first then feel free! 

⇢ this 👏🏼 is 👏🏼 going 👏🏼 to 👏🏼 be 👏🏼 a 👏🏼 reincarnation au 👏🏼 people! 👏🏼 - something i never thought i’d play around with in this lifetime but here i am, inspired and ready to write an entire multichapter fic on this

⇢ 👏🏼 LETS 👏🏼 GET 👏🏼 IT!

⇢ to start with, reader is reading a novel about BTS ⏤ all of whom were cursed and, therefore, ridiculed by society despite being a part of the royal bloodline, in fact, they were going to be the crown prince of their kingdom

⇢ note: all of them come from different kingdoms (all of which i do not yet know the names of) that are under massive tension around each other - their relationship with each other isn’t very good, lets just keep it at that, no trust, no solid alliences, no nothing.

⇢ their (bts’s) curse was the only thing that brought the kingdom’s leaders/kings and queens together for only a breif moment

⇢ The princes were born at different times and since the curse was the same for all of them, they were all forced to live in the same secluded mansion deep in the woods, owned by some insignigicant and greedy count/baron (clearly i need to research these terms of heirarchy so ignore me for now)

⇢ after each new prince of a different kingdom was born with the same curse, they were immediately sent away to live in the same unkempt mansion, however, most of them never knew of each other’s existence as no grand welcoming ceremony/party was hosted for their arrival

⇢ lemme give you some details of the curse, this is going to be fairly similar to how the curse affects the host in the manga i read so be warned : 

⇢ the curse makes the princes look younger in terms of their body size as they can’t stomach any food ⏤ this stunts their growth and makes them look half their age so jinnie who would be 20 years old at first meeting actually looks like a 10 year old instead

⇢ they have constant bags under their eyes, unhealthy pale skin bc they can bearly walk outside for their daily dose of vitamin D

⇢ one hald of their skin is slowly rotting off corresponding to the side that has the curse marks circling their wrist, kinda like a singular hand cuff

⇢ they are always weak, dizzy and just really really unhealthy, as a result, they can’t ever bring themselves to look in the mirror from how hideous they look ⏤ their appearnce makes the maids and servants vomit

⇢ their eyes are dull and faded in colour because of the lack of nutrients and their hair is spindly thin too 

⇢ sometimes, they can’t even drink water and puke it up despite how incredibly thirsty they are 

⇢ because they were ostrasised to such an extent, they never knew love or were showed any affection when growing up ⏤ this seemed to make the effect of their curse worse

⇢ not only that but the maids and staff never approached them willingly or treated them well because of how disgusted their appearance made them feel

⇢ this only made our beloved bts princes feel worse about themselves

⇢ an untimely storm, thankfully, was able to give them hope because it made them realise that they weren’t the only people in the world that had the horrible curse inflicted onto them

⇢ the storm forced the count/baron to renovate the mansion as the roof fell through and the princes were sent to another one of his properties where the count’s niece was visiting

⇢ i am naming her Areum, okie? (don’t blame me if your name is Areum, blame on of the many korean birthname websites out there)

⇢ upon seeing the princes, she screams and calls them disgusting monsters, this helps the princes lean on each other for the support and love that they were deprived of since young

⇢ this ultimately leads to them developing an open/poly relationship with one another

⇢ note: poly relationships weren’t uncommon during these times as many royals had concubines and such, it was only uncommon that the partners were all the same gender

⇢ the knowledge of no longer being alone helped them recover from the curse. They also gave and recieved love from each other which vanquished the curse enough so that they grew healthy and finally looked their age

⇢ their recovery was only to an extent however, as they still felt weak and still had the curse marks as well as some rotting skin on areas they were able to easily hide

⇢ eventually, word of their recovery from the curse came out and they were welcomed back into their kingdoms and invited to the annual celebration in worship of the holy beings

⇢ in this celebration, they meet Areum once again, who they had long since forgotten because of their love for each other 

⇢ in this meeting, Areum actually acknowledges them as ‘human’ bc their curse wasn’t as bad. she shows them an act of kindness that was never shown to them before so they instantly fall in love with her

⇢ since falling for her, they strieve to win her heart as well but were rejected as she was already engaged to the crown prince

⇢ this crown prince is taehyung’s younger brother, who had ‘replaced’ him because he was cursed and the kingdom still needed an heir to the throne ⏤ this was the same case for all of the princes as they could no longer be the crown prince of their kingdom due to their curse

⇢ when the new crown prince (taehyung’s younger brother) found out that tae was actually his brother all along, he was overjoyed and tried to get close to him but was treated bitterly by tae and the rest of bts bc of Areum

⇢ despite taehyung projecting hate onto his younger brother, his younger brother only admired him and wanted to get to know him as he grew up lonely and craving an older sibling

⇢ bts ended up leading a rebellion in order to win Areum’s heart but their attempts failed and led to their execution

⇢ while reader was reading this novel, she cried and felt only pity and a want to help the fictional cursed princes bc she was able to see how truly sweet they were and reasoned that they deserved so much better than how they were treated

⇢ however, reader knew that she couldn’t do anything as they were just characters in a fictional world

⇢ thankfully, there was a sequel that was published just as reader finished reading the first novel. in this sequel, some type of redemption was given for the accursed princes

⇢ unfortunately, just as she finished the prologue and was midway through reading this first chapter, reader got caught up in an accident (maybe i’ll make it a car accident but that’s too cliche for me so i don’t know...)

⇢ and when reader wakes up she is in bed being nursed by a character from the novel ⏤ the kind hearted chef of the baron/count’s manor who hoped and wished her cooking helped the boys recover somewhat from their curse

⇢ the chef told her that she found her out in the forest in the heavy rain and was about to shout to her when she collapsed

⇢ to thank the chef for saving her life, reader became a maid of the manor as they were fairly understaffed. after stumbling into one of the prince’s rooms she realised that she was reincarnated into the novel

⇢ it was strange though bc she doesn’t remember a maid being called (Y/N) in the novel  ⏤ she was possibly a new side character or another insignificant role of the plot...

⇢ that didn’t matter though bc no matter who she was or what she did, she wouldn’t be able to return to her original life as Charlotte the aspiring singer and musician that had yet to make it big 

⇢ since she had died as Charlotte in the real, modern world, there’s no way she could ever even think of going back

⇢ instead, she’ll become the best maid and best companion the princes had ever had 

⇢ she’ll change their pitiful fate and give them the happy ending they deserve

A/N: NOWWWW THEN! If you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got some major planning to do!

masterlist

[girlobsessed21]

The 100 6x11 discussion - burning desires of change

Hey guys, as usual, here’s my breakdown of the episode. Props to Mr. Bob Morley on his directing debut - insert applause emoji here. All in all, it was great, I enjoyed it, albeit a little weird. But it’s to be expected of a conversion episode taking us into the finale.

Like I explained in my 2nd predictions post, “Ashes to Ashes’ has Biblical connotation and it’s also a British crime drama about time traveling back to the early 80′s as well as David Bowie’s 1980 hit single about addiction.

Apart from Ash being Echo’s real name, I struggled to find the link to the title until it hit me with a wrench from behind. It’s about cycles, repetition, doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results (which Einstein did not say btw). Only now, it’s breaking that rotation. Demons are overcome (apart from Madi), and it’s time to do better.

Octavia’s no longer Bellamy’s responsibility, Clarke refuses to kill innocents, the children of Gabriel learn the truth, Miller disobeyed to transcend and Echo (or Ash), well, I’ll talk about her later. To Monty! Will this also be the end of the ‘will they, won’t they’ dance for Bellamy and Clarke? See my thoughts on this.

That said, let’s fall into the recap.

A child possessed

Okay, Sheidheda was a lot creepier in this episode than the previous ones. if Madi wasn’t completely overthrown before, it seems like she is now and her driving force is pure vengeance. The bond between Madi and Clarke is harder to break than diamonds, which we saw in season 5 and here again.

For six years, all they had were each other. Since the little Natblida was only six when Clarke found her, she won’t even remember her real family all that well. To Madi, Clarke was her savior, her family, her protector, her mother and basically everything else. Having such an influence taken away from you is artery-slicing.

The demon in her head knows this, plays on it and manipulates in a way an abuser lures children in with sweets. Given her age and lack of experience, she follows blindly. I have a feeling this might continue onto season 7 but I hope Raven finds a way to eliminate him. That face freaks me out. For now, he’s gonna cause a lot more damage than we anticipate and will probably be a spoil of war for the peaceful plan.

John Murphy - court jester or hero?

Yeah, he’s been a fence-sitter the entire season, but you have to admit, Murphy provides some much needed comical relief. Granted, the writers have turned up the humor via Bellamy, Clarke, and Diyoza, yet Murphy’s sarcasm should never be taken for granted. “Houdini Miller.” He might not make it to the end of the season.

If someone threatens the life of the person you love, will you protect everyone else or only that person? Ask Bellamy, he did the exact same thing. Risked the lives of everyone else to save his girl, of course Murphy will do the same. He wants to marry Emori, he’ll face hell to ensure her safety.

Still, he warns Echo in good old Cockroach fashion. Don’t let them find out I’m on your side, there’s but one side and it’s mine - and Emori’s. As long as the primes think that, he’ll have a chance of being spared. Murphy is such a great character, sure, he has deviated from being good, but that’s what makes him interesting.

The more layers and substance a character has, the more convincing and relatable they are. All of us have flaws, Murphy’s biggest one is his selfishness, does this make him a bad person? Absolutely not. He struggles and sometimes stumbles due to it but he still cares. Only the size of his heart’s in question, not the existence and it gets them out of some serious syrupy situations.

The makes of the Blakes

So, Bellamy doesn’t care about the delusional cult followers, he merely wants to save his people, to hell with the rest. In a sense, he betrayed them to rescue his love? soulmate? person? and has to make up for it. Now, Bellamy, did Monty not teach you anything?

Being so determined, he calls his sister the queen of cannibals. Killing her own people to ensure their survival. She did what she had to do, why can’t he? I didn’t know Bellamy even knew about this, why didn’t they show his reaction to finding out? Wouldn’t it have led to him cutting her some slack? He was in the exact same situation many times before. 

Probably not. His whole life has always revolved around her, everything he did was to protect his sister to the point of borderline, unhealthy codependency. Octavia was his purpose and yet she threw him in a fighting pit to die after he once again tried to save her - from herself.

Gabriel then tells Bellamy his sister is special, she returned from the greatest mystery of Sanctum. If I remember correctly, Lincoln called her special too when she was unaffected by the biological warfare. There’s more to it though, in my opinion, I still think Diyoza will return, they were both called by the anomaly, why would only O survive? That anomaly is going to be some crazy wow-factor, I’m certain.

I believe a cult won’t be too happy to find out that its leader is the exact thing they’re rebelling against. And the children of Gabriel seemed pretty pissed, especially Xavier’s sister. That is until Bellamy gives them a plan to fulfill their cause. Unfortunately for him, it means teaming up with O to find the powerful red sun toxin. For once the cultists weren’t useless!

Poor Gabriel, all he wants is peace. I thought Jordan would be a Monty reincarnator but apparently, that’s Gabriel. Or he’s more of Lincoln II? Either way, I hope he doesn’t die. Speaking of Jordan, I miss him in his recovery bed. 

Anyway, “what do you say when sorry isn’t good enough?” Despite Bellamy’s countless efforts to keep O occupied, she won’t stop breaking down the walls around his heart. Those mushrooms were strong, Bell, we saw it. Octavia’s speech was so deep, honest and touching that Bellamy’s stray tears hardly seem enough.

The way it was resolved though, is more than satisfactory. After everything that’s happened, it wouldn’t be enough development for him to simply accept what she’s done and move on. But, he’s willing to give her a chance to prove herself while no longer being the core of his world. “You’re my sister, but you’re not my responsibility, not anymore” is probably the best metamorphosis I’ve witnessed on this show. It clips the umbilical cord for both of them to emerge as individuals.

Echoes of a cold-hearted spy

So, I assume Echo protected Ryker thinking she could bank on his morality to spare her. And of course, she keeps scraping at the flesh wound. But Ryker believes saving his family keeps the peace, killing Echo saves everyone else. One life instead of thousands - it’s for the greater good, right? Wrong. The acting here was great, I was totally convinced of Ryker’s bouncing morals.

Off-topic, I completely forgot Miller used to be a thief and I’m glad we got to see his pick-pocketing skills in action. He deserves some credit and screentime, since being a part of this show for six seasons. Oh, and the transcending moment between him and Gaia was super sweet.

For a second I thought Echo would become Simone and then I remembered that she also took ALIE’s chip and they wouldn’t rehash the neural mesh storyline. Meaning my fears were quickly soothed.

Onto the important part, what was that back story supposed to mean? All I got out of it, is that Echo’s cycle isn’t broken. That leopard hasn’t changed its spots. Don’t get me wrong, it broke my heart that she had to kill her friend and resume her identity in order to survive. But, it felt like a turning point in Echo’s character that plunged her into heartlessness. Will she become that person again?

I know Echo might not be a fan favourite, but she’s really grown on me this season. She’s smart, loyal and fierce, I like her. Not Bellamy and Echo together though, I can’t see a semblance of a connection between them. And their relationship is only hurting their characters.

Why would they build her up as a great character just to show that she cares about no-one, not even her friends? I mean I get why she killed Ryker, leaving him alive was too much of a risk - he would tell Russel about her, Miller and Gaia being at large. Though that murderous glint in her eyes tells me that was purely for revenge and completely against their newfound lifestyle. Maybe I’m wrong.

I’m curious to know what being a nightblood will mean for her now and how her character might change after being held at gunpoint.

Meanwhile, Monty’s mantra rings through Clarke 

Oy, Bellamy risked everything and everyone to save Clarke and if she can’t play the part of Josephine convincingly, that was all for nothing. And our boy’s not happy about it - at all. Only, Clarke refuses a Mount Weather do-over.

I just need to mention Bellamy’s face when Murphy come’s through the tent - priceless. Then Jade finally gets a chance to knock someone out too. Yay for her!

The moment Clarke’s safe, she goes straight to Bellamy for reassurance and goodbye. Backtracking to the start of the episode, the way he flung to her side when she woke, touched and comforted her was toothachingly soft and way too intimate to be non-romantic. 

Bellamy gets this shy, ‘aw it’s nothing’ expression when Clarke thanks him for saving her life. Because to him, it really is nothing, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. And while he’s making heart-eyes at his friend, his girlfriend is being prepped for a blood transplant and murder. I cannot see how there won’t be any followthrough on this. 

If there’s not, it’s altogether bad writing, showcasing and wasted potential. Right now, there’s too much going on for a decent conversation that’s years overdue and I’m hopeful they’ll get it. In the synopsis of the finale, there’s a hint at romance and I truly believe it’s theirs.

Well done Eliza! For playing Clarke and Josephine, Clarke as Josephine and vice versa. She’s an amazing actress and has come a long way from, “Stop, the air could be toxic!.” 

The woman must have been devastated when she walked in on Madi strapped to a chair, being drained for her blood. Yet, in the scheme of greater good, she acts oblivious. She plays the part of a nonchalant sociopath so well, while sparing Madi via a sedative and shifting the focus to her mind drive. 

Those newlyweds sure know how to act and direct!! Like always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, did I read the Echo backstory correctly? Till next week, bye!

[darkpoisonouslove]

Valtor and Griffin parents headcanon. I love your works. The way you write is sublime😍

Oh, wow, thank you so much for the kind words and this sweet request!

Let's set this in an AU in which Valtor ran away from the Ancestral Witches with Griffin and the two are left to live in peace after they helped end the war. Now my personal headcanon is that Darcy is their daughter so I'll go with that but most of these can probably be applied in general as well:

- Valtor is worried when Griffin doesn't feel well and when he uses his magic to check up on her, he finds out she's pregnant. Griffin suspected as much but didn't really want to entertain the possibility before she could be more certain what's happening to her because she didn't want to disappoint them both.

- What is more, Griffin is worried about what kind of parent she'll be. Her mom was a very warm person and even despite that, the way the world treated her brought out the worst in her and she turned more and more to darkness, evil and mayhem until she joined the Ancestral Coven and almost helped destroy the universe. She's scared she'll make a terrible mother and that was a part of the reason why she didn't really want to confirm that she was pregnant.

- Valtor has his own doubts about being a parent. His own upbringing was a total disaster and there was nothing healthy about it. He didn't know what love is before Griffin and he has a lot of demons to battle and a lot of ingrained habits that he needs to shake off. He has to be more open and in touch with his emotions and not push upon his child any unhealthy ideas that were forced on him. He and Griffin have a conversation in which they promise each other that they'll be there for one another and keep each other in check.

- Despite having a ton of doubts about himself, Valtor is very enthusiastic about being a father and helps Griffin with everything he can during the pregnancy and after she gives birth. He's changing diapers and dressing the baby (Griffin and he agreed to use as little magic when it comes to caring about the baby as possible because they want Darcy to feel that they're there for her). He even gets up in the middle of the night instead of Griffin to let her rest when he can get the job done although Griffin is the early bird and he is usually the one who has a hard time waking up in the morning. But he’s happy to be there for both of his girls.

- Darcy has her room decorated with Dragons Lights - little sparks of dragon fire that are enchanted to light up when she’s awake so that she’s never left scared in the dark and the room always looks warm and comforting to her. The Dragon Lights stay even after she’s outgrown her fear of the dark because without them it won’t feel like home.

- Darcy displays strong magical abilities from an early age and Griffin and Valtor make it a point to include magic in their activities to help her control her powers. That also hides its risks though. Griffin and Valtor are forced to put an inhibiting spell on Darcy that keeps her from teleporting so that she doesn’t end up in the middle of a busy street or squashed in a machine. They do manage to teach her responsibility and safety when using magic in time, though, and soon she’s not teleporting away from them but uses her powers to help around the household.

- Shapeshifting is mastered from early in her childhood for it was successfully incorporated in games of tag. They start with an animal of Darcy’s choice and every time someone else becomes it, they all shift into another animal. It helps her get used to the feeling of shifting, learn to stay in control, master many different forms, and improve her speed and duration of the shapeshifting process. It’s also a lot of fun running around in a wolf or bunny form or flying as a raven or an owl.

- Hide-and-seek becomes much more intense and challenging when everyone has the power of illusions. Darcy’s illusions can’t compare to those of her parents at first and they dampen their magic to allow her to participate on an equal level and find them after all. But she soon develops her powers and it is her who needs to hit the brakes on her magic for her parents to be able to catch up. She becomes so good at illusions that it’s a good thing that they taught her to be responsible with her magic and not use it for whatnot or to hurt others and make her parents’ job harder.

- For one of Griffin’s birthdays Darcy makes an illusion that has all the known stars that have existed incorporated in it for her mom to be able to enjoy them all because she knows how much Griffin loves astronomy and the cosmos. She spent months memorizing star maps in order to be able to create the illusion and both Griffin and Valtor are left speechless by the complexity of it.

- Darcy and Valtor train with the Dragon Fire powers which she inherited from him. Griffin is a bit worried that they might hurt each other since Darcy is inexperienced and Valtor’s ego sometimes makes him forget he needs to hold back (he’s hurt her a few times when they used to spar or argue in the past) but Darcy surprises with precise control from early on and Valtor shows amazing restraint (so much so that she can see his muscles tensing with memories of him being hurt by his mothers while he’s trying to never subject his daughter to the same). Darcy becomes super good with using her Dragon Fire powers to the point where Valtor doesn’t have anything to teach her anymore and any further knowledge she needs to acquire herself.

- Darcy knows about her father’s demon form but hasn’t seen it. She wonders if she has one since she shares his DNA but Valtor assures her she doesn’t which might have been more of a disappointment in the edgy phase of her teen years but seeing how closed off he is about it convinces her that it is not something to wish for. She asks him to show it to her, though, because she wants to know all parts of her father and that includes his demon form. After a long discussion with both of her parents, Valtor finally agrees. Darcy is a bit shocked by the difference that is in him but she says she loves him nonetheless because even when he appears to be a demon, he isn’t one in his heart. He will always be the caring and present father that raised her and helped her become who she is. The one thing she does like from the demon form are the big demon wings, though.

- Darcy had a fascination with wings from an early age and would study all insects with wings she could get her hands on. Unfortunately, she was literally getting her hands on them and not all that carefully, too, so that resulted in a lot of torn off wings and dead insects in her hands which always made her cry. It did provide a good opportunity for Griffin to teach her a lot of healing spells that can be applied even to insects if you have enough control of your magic to use it on such small scale. Darcy was determined to not cause more destruction and death to the creatures that fascinated her so she learned to exercise enough control over her magic to be able to fix the smallest of injuries in the tiniest of species. That allowed her to study them without killing them.

- She also loved to study birds (especially in flight) but they were harder to come by and catch for detailed explorations (but at least that kept her from killing any of them). When she grew up a bit and learned to fly and control her magic, she befriended a crow that would always come near her and flap its wings around as if inviting her to join it in flight. She did once and the two flew around the sky like old friends with the crow even showing her some bird maneuvers that Darcy could copy when she shapeshifted into a crow herself. That later became a regular occurrence.

- The wing fascination might have started from Faragonda’s fairy wings on one of her numerous visits. She was pretty much Darcy’s fairy godmother (even if Valtor did not allow for that to become an official term) and Darcy loved to grab at her sparkly wings while she was a baby and Faragonda held her. Luckily for the fairy, her wings were much stronger than those of the insects so Darcy couldn’t rip them off or damage them. They always drew the girl’s attention, though, and she made herself “witchy wings” with her powers of illusion when she was nine or ten. They were dark purple and shimmered like starts on the night sky. Later, when she became older, she switched to flying around with dragon wings sprouting from her back. They were just an illusion, of course, but she was proud to be the bearer of the Dark Dragon Fire and her father’s daughter.

- Darcy loved all the animals and constantly dragged some stray kitten or dog home. Sometimes a squirrel, a hedgehog on occurrence, once even a snake. Neither one of her parents were very happy about it. Especially when one of the cats got three times the size of a regular cat and destroyed half of the furniture. None of them tried to inhibit Darcy’s connection with nature, though. It was a thing to be expected since she had Dragon Fire burning inside her and it was the substance of all life so all life was drawn to her (and Darcy might have helped her father reconnect a bit with nature himself since he was never allowed to explore that part of his powers and who he is). The establishment of some ground rules was necessary, though, to keep any and all incidents with wild animals to a bare minimum.

- Griffin would bake cookies or other sweets quite often when Darcy was little but she only used natural sweeteners to make sure her dabbling in the kitchen wouldn’t have negative effects on Darcy’s health. Cooking soon turned into a family exercise since Darcy was curious to learn how to make her own cookies and Valtor didn’t mind spending more time with his wife and daughter no matter what activity occupied them during that time. Griffin deemed it a great opportunity to teach them both some cooking skills so that they wouldn’t have to starve to death without her.

- Griffin and Valtor used to read and tell Darcy legends about the magical dimension and fill in some gaps with their own personal stories when they were in pursuit of some of the most powerful artifacts. That taught Darcy a great love for words and adventures and she spent quite a lot of time with her nose in a book when she learned to read.

- That happened at an early age and later on she built on that knowledge by studying magical languages that would allow her greater resources for spells. She knew a lot of languages (some of which didn’t even exist anymore) before she even turned fifteen. And all of that of her own volition. Neither Griffin, nor Valtor forced her to do anything.

- When she became a teenager, Darcy inevitably started using some teen slang that Griffin just shook her head at while Valtor was the one to find it rather distasteful and express his dislike of it. Darcy told him he was being old-fashioned which resulted in Valtor starting to use slang as well, much to Darcy and Griffin’s annoyance. They had to beg him to stop and become the old old-fashioned Valtor again.

- Darcy has a very open relationship with both of her parents that includes a lot of communication and trust. She knows she can tell them everything without being judged. Her parents are flawed people as well and know what it is to make mistakes which is something Darcy takes comfort in because she knows they're not perfect and they understand that she isn't either. She knows they will listen to her and try to help her avoid making mistakes she will regret later just as she knows that they will let her make her own decisions and allow her to find herself and be her own person.

I have to go to a lecture so I’ll have to leave it off here. Besides, I wrote down all I can think of right now. Hope this makes you smile. I sure had a lot of fun with these.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Seeking NSFW long-term RP Partner [m/f, f/f, third person, literate].

Hello, I am reposting this ad because the partners who I had chosen were no longer interested. That being said, if you have contacted me before and I haven’t replied to you, it’s because I had already found my partners. People seem to want to know even if I am full, though, so this time I will try harder and message everyone back to inform them that I have found enough partners if it comes to it. 

Having said that, please don’t be afraid to remessage me again. I have added a few more plots in here, this time with a more detailed summary and not simply a pairing. Have a look and see if you like anything! 

Disclaimer: I am above 18 and all characters in the RP will be so as well. 

  What are you looking for exactly? 

Someone who is okay with the main focus of the roleplay being of an erotic/smut kind. That being said, I’d like it if we could include some sort of plot and story as we go along so it doesn’t become too repetitive and stale. (Pairings listed below) 

Specifically, I’m looking for someone who would like to explore a dom/sub dynamic, which may include a master/slave relationship or anything of the sort. So you see, I’m not looking for the typical vanilla pairing. I’m seeking something a little more dynamic, complex and adventurous. 

Someone who is okay with playing a dom against my female sub. I’m into both m/f and f/f, however take note that the kink list and plots below are written for m/f relationships simply because that is the pairing I get asked to do most frequently. They can all be changed to fit a f/f relationship though. 

Someone who is okay with OOC chatting. I’d like to create a bond with someone, and I don’t want our only interactions to be only when we’ve posted. It makes me feel less connected to the RP and I’m more likely to get detached over time. We can talk about our everyday lives, our characters, possible future plots, share some music, etc! 

Someone who actually gets invested in his own character and gives him life: a (realistic) faceclaim, some backstory, hobbies, dislikes, etc. 

  What are you expecting from your partner? 

I am expecting you to be able to write several paragraphs. Sometimes my posts tend to go up even to 1000 words, so be prepared for that. I’m not saying you have to write 1000 words per post, but writing more than one paragraph would be ideal. 

Third person only. 

I am expecting you to be upfront about what your likes, preferences, and what you’d like to get out of from this RP. Saying ‘whatever works’ for every question I ask makes people seem like are an extremely passive person, which is not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for someone passionate about writing and who wants to collaborate with me by making his own contribution and being honest. 

I’d like a partner who is active, and I want to stress this because I don’t want people messaging me when they cannot post at least once every day or two. More is appreciated, but I get life can get busy with work and all. That being said, I don’t want to wait for five days or more for a reply. It’s not that I’m not tolerant, but I will quickly grow uninterested in a RP (especially an erp) when we don’t have a constant flow of replies.

Characters that I love playing against: older men (40s-50s), beards are a big bonus, big rough guys who deep down have a gentle heart, characters with tragic pasts and seeing their life still being affected by it, bad habits/addictions, unhealthy relationships and behaviour, angst and anger issues, etc. 

What should your partner expect from you? 

Most of my work done is through my laptop, thus I am fairly active and am always up for chatting. Apart from that, you should expect 1 - 3 posts everyday from me. 

Despite this being a NSFW rp, my characters are not going to have the physical appearance of a porn star or anything like that (i.e., gigantic boobs, perfectly curvy body, huge ass, etc). They are going to be realistic, is what I’m trying to say.

I put a lot of effort when creating a new character, including finding them a faceclaim. I use realistic faceclaims, sometimes realistic dawings, as long as they are not anime/cartoon. 

My characters are: Usually young (18-25), initially soft and timid but will definitely get back at you if you piss them off, start off as shy and inexperienced but eventually grow confident, will tease a lot (public or not), bratty, can be impulsive and can get themselves into trouble, need attention, etc. 

  What are some possible pairings we could use? 

Italic text is the role I’d prefer to play. You are welcome to mix and match these pairings, as well as bring forward suggestions if none of them interest you. 

  Rich businessman/Bought slave

Your character grew up in a rich household. After both of his parents died (or moved someplace else), he took charge of the house and was given authority over one or several of his father’s businesses in order to follow in his footsteps. His large house started to grow lonely, save for the servants and maids that took care of everything, but he needed something more. Somehow he finds out about women of all ages being auctioned as slaves in an underground place, and after some hesitance, he decides to go. Surely enough, his attention gets caught by a fairly young one, the main attraction of the night indeed, and he instantly knew that he had to get her. 

New prostitute/Regular client OR New prostitute/boss

My character is a newly recruited prostitute in one of the city’s most famous brothels, who joined as a last resort kind of thing. Could be because of family issues, or she couldn’t keep up with paying for her bills, perhaps she was involved with some certain things that made her get kicked out by the landlord of the place she had been staying at. Either way, she is only there because her situation got desperate. Upon arrival she is given a room to stay at, some clothes, explained the rules, and a bit of training to prepare her for that same night. Enter your character, who has been a regular at this place and will be her first client. He pays for her services, but once they go to a private place together, he can easily tell that this is her first time doing this sort of thing. How this continues is up to you and pretty open, but the main idea is that they end up growing fond of each other and wanting to meet again. 

Alternatively, we could do a similar plot, but instead it would be with her boss and the owner of the brothel. 

  Your idea. 

I’m open to hearing whatever ideas or plots you’d like us to play. Perhaps you have been craving a specific pairing, or you have a plot that you started with someone else but got ditched. I’m here to listen! 

  Other pairings we could try: 

Stalker/Obsession

Teacher/Student

Doctor or Psychiatrist/Patient

Kidnapper/Kidnapped

Greek mythology pairing (I’m not too familiar with these except for Persephone/Hades, so feel free to bring your own if you’re interested in this)

*I’m also into supernatural creatures (werewolves, vampires, witches, etc) and it’s definitely something we could incorporate into our plots. 

What are you into when it comes to NSFW, and likewise what are your limits?

My kinks include: Dd/lg, orgasm control, light bondage, collars and leashes, oral, gagging, roughness, spanking, bdsm, breath control/choking, light petplay, clothed sex, outdoor/semi public spots, dub con, humiliation, dirty talk, name calling, body worship, masturbation, pain play, being marked (bruises, hickeys, etc), handcuffs, controlling and possessive behaviour, and probably some more that I can’t think of on the spot. 

My limits are: Scat, vore, watersports, feet, unrealistic body proportions/sizes, excessive cum, basically anything unrealistic. If you’re unsure about something, ask. 

  I’m interested, where can we contact you? 

Happy to hear that! Shoot me an email at equallybored0@gmail.com, and we can see where this goes. If we’re compatible and decide to RP together, I will give you my discord. 

Make sure that upon contacting me you tell me a little bit about yourself, some suggestions/ideas, what you’re looking for, etc. 

[sandyferal]

Vieratom and Monty Darklight. The main characters of a story I’ve been working on for many many years.

I know I’ve posted character stuff for Vieratom before, but I just keep working on this and I like to keep it together.

HUGE DUMP of story, character, and world building info beneath.

Vieratom is the first-born Princess of a world with absolutely no natural sunlight. The average life span is a few hundred human years. Each of their years is two human years. So what they’d call fifty years, we’d call one hundred. Many of the animals in this dimension are light sources, and most residential areas are lit up like crazy with artificial light. The crops don’t need sunlight. Even so, there are still seasons because somewhere in this dimension there is a place with sunlight and weather etc. that is tied to their world, but no one can reach it. People use magic, drawing from a underlying well of dark and light energy that exists throughout their dimension. The dark is by far more powerful, but is rarely used as much as the light. The dark energy is easier to access the less life you have in you.

Despite being the first-born Vieratom’s right to the throne is in question. Mostly due to the fact that she was perfectly healthy in the womb, yet was born dead, and came back to life an hour later. Ever since, she and the magic she holds have grown in an incredibly rapid and unhealthy way.

While her survival was at first seen as a miracle, two (four of our years) years later she was upstaged by the perfectly healthy and normal birth of her sister Monty. From the moment she was born, Monty was far more beloved by the kingdom. It was very likely that she would end up ruling the kingdom instead.

In this world, when one reaches adulthood, their parents give them gemstones to symbolize that they’re their own person. On her twentieth birthday (fortieth in terms of human years), Vieratom still failed to recieve anything from her parents. When her grandfather died shortly after, she stole his gemstones (he had his dead wife’s too) and kept one for herself.

This gemstone gave her the power to make anyone (who is attracted to women) attracted to her, to the point where they were basically mind controlled. It changed her body, making her less gaunt and giving her more curves. She uses this power to travel to another dimension and try to take it over.

The other gemstone she left to Monty, not knowing what it did. It gave Monty the power to make anyone (romantically interested in women) fall in love with her. She doesn’t use it much, as she doesn’t want or need to make people fall in love with her.

Basil is Monty’s childhood best friend. A gardener who helps grow food for the palace, and tends to the royal garden. Vieratom has had a crush on him since she was little. He knows this and has had to turn her down.

Violet is Basil’s girlfriend. She’s not royalty but she’s still pretty wealthy, and is very judgy. She and Vieratom get in fights a lot, but she’s not great at actually hurting her feelings, and at the end of the day will be able to sympathize with most people including Vieratom. Mad that she has weak magic (and practically no tits). Dates Basil mostly because he’s one of the only people who can stand her somewhat bitchy attitude. Not specifically because she’s sure she loves him.

Monty will eventually marry Basil, but despite this it’s unclear whether or not she has romantic feelings for him. They never date or court each other, their marriage is known to be an open relationship, and they have never said openly that they love each other. They have a child and they’re still both happy in their (possibly platonic) marriage. Monty is possibly aro, but could be pan, no one knows (harder to tell bc she’s definitely not ace).

Tentacles are something that all people in this world have. It’s how they channel their magic. They all start as black and plain at birth, but develop and change as each person grows. How many tentacles you can grow and how much slime they produce are indicators of magical strength.

Ten is the maximum amount the most powerful beings can grow. The average is 3-4 for women, 2 or 8 for men (who usually either have weak magic or overly powerful magic) and 5 for royalty.

When Vieratom died right after she was born, her tentacles lost the ability to change. They’re stagnant, still black, and the slime that they are covered in is an unhealthy yellowish-brown. They have the color and texture of tapioca pearls, yet are a bit firmer. Despite their inability to properly change however, they became unusually powerful as she grew older. She can sprout seven in total, and usually has one or two out at all times. They are each at least twice as powerful as one of her arms, and more powerful than her legs, as she often uses them to walk. She can also use them to open up dimensional portals (or more accurate, rip the fabric of her universe where it’s already been weakened).

Monty’s are pink. They have developed the ability to spray a strangely appealing fragrance. While most of her tentacles are covered in a healthy clear slime, tips are not slimy, but very sticky. This allows her to grab and attach her tentacles to objects and surfaces. Underneath the slime, they feel like Satin. She can grow five of them, an average amount for royalty. She has never tried to use them to walk on the ground, but she’s just strong enough to be able to use the to cling to the ceiling. She will sprout one or two for a few minutes or hours on a daily basis then retract them.

Violet’s are, well, violet. They are not slimy. They are just slightly damp like grass covered in dew. They feel like velvet, except for the tips, which look and feel like violets. They are filled with water, which can be sprayed out like a hose. The violet on the end changes with the seasons just like a real violet, though it never dies, and doesn’t require sunlight (like most plants in this world). The pollen acts a bit like real sperm, releasing during a climax, and contains eggs. She can grow two in total, a below-average amount, which she is self conscious about. They are a little weaker than her arms. They are almost never out.

Basil’s are grass green. The tips are yellow in summer, orange and red in fall, white in winter, and pink in spring. It feels both somewhat like a vine, and somewhat like a frog’s skin. It’s slightly slimy (like a frog), more so in fall and spring, less so in summer and winter. They can photosynthesis using any light source, not just the sun, and this will make it so they use less of his body’s energy, and even provide him some extra nutrients. He can grow two in total, and they are usually both out and active. They are always a bit stronger than his arms, but are weaker during summer and winter.

Tess lives in a different dimension than Vieratom. In Tess’s dimension, people live on isolated islands that don’t interact much. There’s not a lot of wars and countries, mostly states made up of small villages with many friendly rivalries. It’s always fall or spring, which means trees go from colorful leaves to blooming flowers. Pumpkins are the most popular crop and pumpkin spice is the most popular flavor. The days are longer and the nights shorter, and all people have either freckles or light to moderately brown skin from being in the sun so much (in fact those are the only two “races”). Many of the residents have physical traits similar to both dwarves and elves. This means that when it comes to things like body hair, size, and demeanor, they are often on either end of the spectrum, as opposed to being in the middle, despite the fact that they are all of the same species. They also have a lifespan lasting multiple centuries. However, time moves differently between their dimension and Vieratom’s.

Tess is genderfluid, and only a few years younger than Vieratom. He meets her when she comes to his dimension to take it over. He falls under the spell of her Gemstone instantly, and is brainwashed along with a good 60% of the population. Yet, even without the influence of the Gemstone, Tess adores Vieratom. He’s self aware enough to know that it’s not a good thing considering how violent she is, but he’s still hopelessly in love with her and will follow her to the ends of the Earth, or through different dimensions.

[strugglingbeingateen]

Weightloss

Weightloss is a bitch! And the only people that can understand what im talking about are the people who have been through it or are currently in the same boat as me. So far I have managed to lose 4 stone. Im proud of it but im not happy yet.

I have been told through out my life by various people that im not good enough because of how i look and it has shaped me into a person i no longer like.

As a child i didnt care that i was fat and the other kids were thin, i accepted myself for who i was, not how i looked. Unfortunately small minded people didnt and those who were too scared to be unpopular because they are scared their real opinion isnt cool enough decided to join in on bullying me and other kids with similar problems.

As the years went by what started off as one comment that stuck in my head, became many and then before i knew it i was depressed.

Yes, depression is a word people throw around here and there and others just think theyre attention seeking but the thing is, i had been such a happy person my entire life i never thought i could be depressed and then one day it hit me.

I felt stupid after months and months of wondering why i felt numb and why i would cry almost every day in my room alone, i realised i was depressed. I remember when it happened, i was pushing away all my friends with out even really knowing why, being horrible to them but deep down i knew i wasnt good enough to be their friend and i remember sitting alone in my room like i did every time i wasnt at school, id just lay in the dark and it was like a lightbulb going off in my head and i was just like...well shit.

Im not the type pf person who likes to share emotions or my feelings and im way to lazy to hand write a diary so this is what im going for, i dont care if people read this or if it just sits unread, when i have finished losing this weight i want to know how i felt through it all, because its easy to forget.

Anyhoo, it took me a long time to pull myself out of the depression and the way i did it was i started walking, this was the start of my first serious diet, i lost 3 stone on this diet. I was getting very very over weight and i decided the cause of all my problems was that i wanted to be thin and i wasnt.

What started off as a 2 mile walk a day soon turned to 4 and then before i knew it i was walking 18 miles a day, running 1 and a half and cycling 6 to 8. ( by this point it was the summer holidays) everything hurt and i was hungry all the time because i went from eating 4 peoples intake of calories a day to 1 and that shifted a lot of the weight but as the diet went on i got tired of doing so much every day and waking up feeling and looking the same at least in my eyes, so i quit.

I put on 2 of the 3 stone i had lost and i didnt even care. I had decided that being fat was who i was and who i am meant to be. Up until this christmas, i was around my family who are all relatively healthy and i was saw us all sitting and eating in the mirror next to the dining table and i just felt lost, everyone smiling and laughing while i sat staring at this reflection of me thinking how disgusting i was and how unhappy i was again and its all because i was too stupid to cut down and change the exercise to fit what i needed and a realistic goal each day instead of quitting entirely.

So i swore, this new year i am going to lose the weight and even though over the past 7 ish months there have been bumps in the road and a couple times where i quit, i got back up and am now 4 stone lighter than i was at the beginning of the year.

I know many people have secret opions on overweight people and some not so secret, i know a lot of people who call fat people ugly when im around and i just turn to them and say ‘being fat and being ugly arent mutually exclusive’ and i watch ad their face falls and they realise that there is a fat person standing right next to them, i then watch as they struggle to find the right words to say and stutter and i remember with this one guy i just said ‘look, i know im fat’ he looks so confused, he was stunned as if he thought i was completely clueless and he said ‘you know?’ And i remember laughing and saying ‘of course i know, i have eyes and a brain, i can put two and two together just as easy as a thin person’ he looked to confused and i just remember how funny his expression was and i just said ‘i cant believe you didnt think that i knew i was fat, even if i never looked in the mirror, the size of my jeans or down, the people shouting fatty at me would clue me on’

In my opinion, being fat and ugly are two different things, i think someone being ‘ugly’ is just an opinion each person has about different people, some to do with looks and other personality. I think beauty really is in the eye of the beholder because i remember this girl who was my friend, i thought she was absolutely stunning, so perfect and just amazing and then my brother genuinely didnt find her attractive in any way shape or form, he said ‘i dont know why you think she is so pretty, she is bland and is as thick as two short planks’

I defended her over and over again until i saw her true face, not the one that you might think, she didnt take off makeup and look completely different or anything, she was a natural beauty, i mean we fell out, actually its a bit more complicated than that, i fell out with a mutual friend and no one asked but she chose the mutual friends side, me and the mutual friend just ignored each other but this other girl, she used me to make herself popular, she spread lies and rumours about me and got her new found ‘friends’ to torment me, every day they would ask me questions about rumours that i didnt even know about and they harrassed me, she just stood there and watched, sometimes she would laugh but she would never get involved, i guess she was too scared or was telling herself she wouldnt stoop that low and bully me but the way i saw it was she enjoyed watching me be harrassed and embarressed and tormented every day, where ever i went and she wouldnt speak to me when i spoke to her, she just ignored me like we had never been best friends, like she thought she was better than me. Like i wasnt good enough. I ended up spending more time at home than in school just because i couldnt get out of bed in the morning because i knew what was waiting for me at school. My mum soon figured out what was happenening and wanted me to go to the head of year so i agreed, i would but i wasnt saying any names, not only because i didnt want to be a snitch but a part of me still had hope that we would be friends again and i didnt want to hurt her. I ended up moving forms from the one she was in but that still didnt stop them, my parents started getting annoyed that i wouldnt go to school and they would shout at me and every day was a struggle. I just couldnt believe that my so called best friend of 8 years could change into this bitch. If it wasnt for my other friend i wouldnt have gotten through it.

Once i saw this side of her i no longer saw her as beautiful, i still knew people would and i couldnt deny she was pretty but being beautiful means inside and out in my opinion and the only thing she was inside was rotten and she still is. Its been over two years now and im not in school anymore im in college, the people that bullied me, some go to my college and they laugh and slag me off when they see me but luckily the girl stayed on for sixth form. Me and the mutual friend actually made up a little over a year ago and actually see each other quite often, when me and the bitch originally fell out, i remember people that were mutual friends asking me why and i said because shes a bitch and they would defend her, i have seen all of them and each one of them have appologised and said they were sorry because now they realise how right i was. The original mutual friend me and the bitch fell out about actually hates her now and i have just realised recently that these so called ‘friends’ the bitch have, dont really care and when they go off and live their own lives, they will leave her behind because they dont really care and this bitch i have heard she has no plans for the future, not that there is anything wrong with that but it just goes to show that popularity may matter to her now but what happens when there is no one left to be your friend and to show off to.

Anyway after all this i have become a better person, not the best version of myself yet but im getting there, i have learned what really matters to me and who really matters and i dont want to be thin anymore, i want to be fit, healthy because the trusth is no matter how much i want to deny it being overweight is unhealthy, both mentally and physically. The reason i know im going im going to get where i want this time is because i am doing it for me, because i want to feel and look good, not to show off to others or take revenge on this bitch.

Anyways i know this probably wont be read, but in case it is, i cant be bothered checking on spelling and grammar so sorry if its a terrible read i needed to get that off my chest

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Little Peach, Chapter 13

Notes: As always, thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!

Apologies for the delay, life was deciding not to give me any peace and quiet for a while. This will probably be done in a chapter or two - but while I have your attention, you should know I'm planning to take a hiatus once this story is over. I feel like I've been making stories nonstop for several years, and as a result I'm feeling kinda drained, and my writing is suffering for it. I'd like to take a few months to recharge my batteries before I jump into my next project. It shouldn't be any longer than January/February.

Thanks for understanding and sticking through for this crazy ride.

Summary: As Mickey's parents come to terms with their sins, Mickey is tempted to create one of his own that may doom all of Japan.

Given how impressively tall and expansive the palace was, finding a spare room for Donald and Daisy was as easy as turning the corner. They thanked the Princess profusely for her kindness, but once they were alone, husband and wife could feel themselves molting from stress. They sat opposite from each other on the floor, backs to one another, their bodies heavy with the words Mickey had thrust at them. Donald had, at least, expected Mickey to return for his mother's sake, but he hadn't realized the depth of Mickey's anger and feelings of betrayal. Now he was starting to wonder if Mickey ever would come home, and what kind of life they'd have without him.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy suddenly asked, breaking the silence so sharply Donald felt his heart seize up.

“What?” At first, the question didn't register.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy repeated, glancing back at Donald. “To have my baby feel that way about me...he always did complain about me not letting him out and around, but I thought he was acting like all children did.” Had she been so concerned about Mickey's safety that she never gave a thought to his happiness? The comment about Mickey being little more than a stuffed doll had done a number on her soul – looking back, what had Mickey been allowed to do? If he never talked back, he really would have been nothing more than a toy for her to play with, and that was no attitude for a mother to have. “Maybe the gods were right to make sure I never had a child...”

“Don't.” Donald reached out behind him, fumbling to take Daisy's hand. “You're not a...” The immediate thought was to deny all of Daisy's negativity, reassure her that was she was perfect and could do no wrong just so she wouldn't be upset. Yet as he looked back on their lives together, he knew it wasn't fixing things. He always did her best to make her stop crying that it never occurred to her that he should just let her cry. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd shed tears himself, as such things were seen as weakness in a samurai. And who had told him that?

“Y'know,” he said again, eyes out on the nearby window, watching the sun crawl through the day. “My parents, Quackmore and Hortense Duck...they weren't perfect. I don't think a single day ever went by without them having an argument over something silly. Then they'd turn around and argue with me and Della, then me and Della would argue with each other. Despite all that, I wanted to be just like my father...a brave samurai who protected the people without a trace of fear. He's the one who trained me...he's the one who taught me how to bottle up everything I felt, so I could focus on my duties. If you don't show yourself how you feel, your enemies won't see it either.”

“That is incredibly unhealthy, honey.”

“I didn't say it worked! You know my temper better than anyone. But my father didn't hate me or resent me, he thought he was doing what was best. And I think that's what you were doing too. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do...but you never did it with any anger or malice. You love Mickey, and he knows it. There's no such thing as a perfect parent. And a parent's role doesn't end just because your baby isn't a baby anymore.”

He could feel Daisy trembling in his grip, and though it pained his heart to hear his beloved cry, he didn't try to stop it. Slowly, gently, he moved around to hold her in his arms, allowing her to sob into his chest. Grief and relief were mixed together, and as she cried, Donald looked at his injured arm, the one that had made him retire early and settle down with his bride. Looking back, his father had never said a word about it – no lectures of disappointment, no mocking of his abilities. Even if Donald was no longer what Quackmore had expected, it didn't stop Quackmore from loving his son and treating him like a member of the family. Donald had always thought he'd be the same type of father when he and Daisy were trying for children. But as he watched Daisy's wailing turn into more calmed sniffles, he realized that no one really understood parenthood until they became a parent. It was like being in combat – for all the hopes, lectures and lessons, nothing could teach a person better than actual experience.

Daisy's sobs eventually turned into gentle breathes, and she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Is he... really happy here?”

“I'd ask him, but I doubt he's in the mood to talk. But... the fact he landed a job here says a lot, I think.” He supposed sharing a last name helped Mickey get his foot in the door, but to actually keep a person this small on the job? Mickey must have done something right, though he couldn't be sure what it was. “Maybe he just needs some space. When it's the right time, we'll talk to him and...I guess we'll just see where we go from there.” If Mickey wanted to stay, Donald wasn't going to force him otherwise, as much as he wanted to. Mickey was an adult, even if he didn't look it, and given how shoddily Donald had treated him, did he have any right to tell Mickey what to do and where to go?

“You know...” Daisy sat up straighter, looking her husband in the eye. “You said I love Mickey, and yes, I do, with all my heart. But I haven't heard you say you love him. Can we really talk to him about his place in the family if you can't say it?” She didn't want to voice her real fear – did Donald love Mickey at all?

It was a justified fear, as Donald's silence was deafening. His tongue moved in his mouth, trying to form an answer that his mind wouldn't make. Any parent should be able to say “Yes, I love my child�� automatically, shouldn't they? But Donald had shunned Mickey for so long, treated him as a disappointment instead of a person, and refused to get to know him. Now he knew the boy, and Mickey was apparently capable of great things – a good heart, a clever mind, and a strong will. These were things to be proud of, things Donald was sure he hadn't passed on to him, Mickey had developed them all on his own. Come to think of it, Mickey had every right in the world to be the opposite, given his size – but instead of looking at the world with hate and sadness, he wore a smile and helped others despite his disadvantage.

There was shuffling at the doorway, and both ducks were momentarily startled, so wrapped up in their family drama that the outside world had ceased to exist. The noises got louder, and Daisy got to her feet, eager for a distraction. She slid open the door, and saw Clarabelle trying to lift a heavy box, having to stop every now and then due to its weight. She  saw Pete as well, but he'd merely grabbed something from the box and dashed off before Clarabelle could admonish him. “What are you doing?” Daisy asked, tilting her head.

Clarabelle put the box down and wiped sweat from her forehead. “Oh, don't mind me! The Princess asked me to get rid of some things, and I'm doing it gladly! We'll be using this as kindling, maybe cook some sweet potatoes. I tell you, it's so gratifying to see her growing up!”

Daisy managed to take a peek at the inside of the boxes, which contained dozens of illustrated books. “Why is she getting rid of them?”

“She told me she doesn't need them anymore.” Granted, Minnie had decided to keep the first volume, “for the memories”, then decided she wanted to keep the volume that had the love confession, and the one with the special color illustrations, and then Clarabelle decided to quickly get to work before Minnie changed her mind altogether. “You know, she's started smiling a lot more since your son came to the palace. He's... not exactly who I'd choose, but I can't say I don't like him. A happy Princess makes for a happy land.”

Daisy was both pleased at her son making a genuine friend and terrified at the idea of losing her baby to a wedding. She shook her head, trying to stay grounded in reality. “Well, I can't just sit here and do nothing. Please, allow me to help!”

Given how many boxes and books were left in the Princess' room, Clarabelle was more than happy to have any help. “Sure thing! Just head out to the garden when you've got your hands full!”

Daisy glanced back at her husband, knowing he wouldn't be much help lifting heavy objects due to his injury, yet she was reluctant to leave him alone. “Is that all right, Donald?”

Donald nodded slowly. “Go ahead. I've got some thinking to do.” With permission granted, Daisy followed Clarabelle to the Princess' room. On his own, Donald began to pull out the sword on his belt, the one that had been handed down to him from his father, from his father, back many generations. Mickey would never be able to use it, but Donald could barely use it now. He stared at his reflection, unsure of the future.

~*~

It'd been several hours since Mickey had gone on “patrol”, but it really wound up with him storming up and down the hallways, so deep in his anger he wouldn't have actually noticed if an Oni had really shown up to cause trouble. Anger at his parents for embarrassing him in front of the Princess and his friends, anger at them for trying to control his life, but also anger at himself for lashing out at them. Though he wouldn't take back what he said exactly, there probably had been gentler ways to go about it. He wanted to go back to Donald and Daisy and see if they were all right, but pride wouldn't allow him. After a while, he asked Pluto to stop so he could hop onto a windowsill and collect himself. His three-pronged headaches were making an annoying return.

He had always assumed that if he was bigger, that would automatically make things better with his family. His mother would stop babying him and Donald would accept him as a son. Yet now doubts were starting to creep in on his plan – Minnie and his friends liked Mickey exactly the way he was, so why couldn't his parents? Maybe talking to Minnie would make him feel better. Talking to her always seemed to make him feel better, and his tail began to swish around just by her mere presence in his mind. She liked him just the way he was, yes, that was why he didn't mind waiting for his size to change.

“There you are!” Pete's voice came from behind, surprising Mickey so much he almost fell out of the window. “I've been looking all over for you, kiddo!”

Mickey stood up, brushing himself down, the sun starting to set behind him. “What for? It's not about the Lucky Hammer again, is it?”

“Nooooo.” With every “o”, Mickey believed him less and less. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, pal! Seemed like you were having a rough time with your folks.”

It wasn't like Pete to care, but at the same time, Mickey did want to vent out his struggles. “They just don't understand what I've been going through. Why, they're the reason I came here in the first place. I can't go back with them when I haven't accomplished anything.”

“Right, right! Why, you've got a whole life here you've made for yourself!” Pete replied, hiding something behind his back. “You've become a real samurai, you've got those weird friends of yours, not to mention the Princess is fawning all over you.”

Mickey felt his face grow hot, and he sheepishly looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Aw, I – I dunno if I'd say fawning...” Though he did like the sound of it. No matter the problems with his parents, at least he could turn to her. He did have Pete to thank for the relationship upgrade, so maybe the big guy wasn't so bad, rude as he was.

“I sure would! Fawning's a pretty good word for what she does over you. Who cares that your old man never wanted you around? I say, good riddance to bad rubbish. The Princess, now she wants you! You're just the man she's been looking for!”

In hindsight, Mickey should have been terribly suspicious about this set-up, but Pete was saying what Mickey wanted to hear. Donald wouldn't accept him until he was taller, but Minnie wanted him here and now. He decided to bask in the compliments, beaming, crossing his arms and holding his head high. “Is that right? You really think so?”

“Of course I'm right!” Pete was smiling, but it wasn't a friendly smile. It was more like the way a snake sizes up its meal before going in for the gulp. “After all, you're exactly like the guy she actually wanted in the first place!”

Just as Pete had planned, the look of confusion struck instantly – Mickey blinked rapidly, unsure if he heard right. Even Pluto was cocking his head, making whining sounds of distrust. Pete let the sentence hang awkwardly in the air, allowing Mickey plenty of time to let his own doubts and self-loathing begin to rise up once more. “Wh...what are you talking about?”

“She didn't tell you?” Pete asked in mock surprise before whipping out the book he'd been hiding. “Funny, I thought she'd show you right away, seeing how much you look like her hero.” He licked his thumb, going through the pages until he found the right image. “Little lady's obsessed with this fake samurai, you can ask anyone who works here, they'll tell you the same! She wouldn't marry anyone unless they're just like him! And, wouldn't you know it...” He then turned the book around, showing Mickey a full color display of Sir Sakura – who for all the world looked exactly like Mickey, save for a few creative differences. “One day, he waltzes right into the palace! She must have thought it was a dream come true!”

Being as small as a peach pit for all his life, Mickey had no idea what a punch to the stomach really felt like – but perhaps this came close enough. He stared so deeply at the illustration that it was if he forgot how to blink. It was like looking into a bizarre mirror, and there was no mental loophole he could devise to get around it. Pete wouldn't tell a lie that would be easily corrected by asking around – who would? Mickey's shoulders began to sink, as did his heart. “She... she... she thinks I'm... this guy?” He asked softly, praying that Pete would tell him no, that somehow this was all made-up as part of a sadistic prank.

“Why else would she have you around?” Pete answered, his smile widening as he stabbed the knife deeper into Mickey's heart, twisting it around and watching Mickey's face crumbling in sheer agony. “Look at you, you're tiny! You couldn't protect a fly from a spider! You're a mama's boy who never learned how the world works! But, hey, you got a free ride to be Emperor, just because you look like a drawing! I say you hit the jackpot. No matter what you do, as long as you look like this guy, she'll want to be around you. Isn't that great?”

Now Mickey was afraid that if and when he finally did blink, he'd start to cry. Had Minnie only wanted him around because he looked like a man who didn't even exist? In a sick way, it was like his mother – who hadn't wanted him, but a little toy to coo and fuss over. He really did like talking with Minnie – had anything on her end been the truth? He wanted so desperately to believe it, but years of shame for being himself was stronger. Pluto whined, trying to reach up to push his nose in an affectionate nuzzle to Mickey's body, but Pete got in the way. “Hey, what's the long face for?” he asked as he tossed the book over his shoulder. “There's no use in getting upset over things you can't change. I mean, if there was some way to make people notice the real you, by taking away what made you different...”

And again, just as Pete had planned it, the nugget of an idea had been planted. Mickey began to lift his head up, the temptation hanging right above him. “Taking away what makes me different? What do you mean?”

“Well, just supposing...” Pete waved his hand, pretending this was all being made up on the spot. “If you were, I dunno, normal sized... people would have to get to know the real you, instead of making up assumptions about your size. Your mama wouldn't treat you like a doll, your daddy might call you his son, and who knows, maybe the Princess would actually see you, instead of someone the size of a page.” With the bait set, now it was only a matter of waiting.

Mickey's fists clenched up. Part of him knew exactly what Pete was saying, and what Pete was planning. It was cruel and manipulative – and it was working. He never asked to be this size, and yet all his life the only people he knew had forced their own ideas onto him. Now the girl he loved was doing the same. What was so wrong with being Mickey? Why couldn't they even attempt to see him? He swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. “I... she... I promised Minnie... the Lucky Hammer not supposed to be used until we're married. And she promised her father... not to tell anyone where it was except for her husband.”

“But can you really be called her husband if she doesn't like you, but a made-up version of you?” Pete's smile hadn't left his face once. He enjoyed having painful power over people, and he missed being able to do this on the daily to his minions. Soon, that would all change, and he'd have an entire land of minions to boss around. In this moment, he felt extremely powerful. “In that case, I'd say she already broke her promise to her old man. Only fair for you to break it too. Whaddya say? Why don't you change your future, instead of waiting around for it?”

On this end, Mickey felt powerless. Save for breaking this bond of trust, there was nothing he could do to change his parent's mind or prove himself to Minnie. Would it really be so bad to be normal? He was only going to use it once. The headache was now so strong, he could feel them as if they were ready to stab through his skin, which made have made his anger and resentment worse. He exhaled deeply, and then commanded his dog, “Pluto, c'mere.”

Pluto whined, not liking where this was going, but he obediently pushed his head in so Mickey could climb on. “We're going to the Princess' room.”

“It's in her room?” Pete repeated, the smug smile finally taken off his face. Naturally, the one place a man wouldn't be allowed to enter! “Why that rotten little...” he grumbled a series of expletives that thankfully Mickey was too far away to hear. He then followed after Pluto quickly, shoving down his anger into his gut. There was no time to be angry – he had to make sure the Princess wasn't actually in her room. Gods forbid if she and Mickey actually had a healthy conversation to settle things, that would ruin the whole plan!

Coincidence after coincidence aided Pete – Minnie hadn't wanted her servants to do all the work (nor get rid of her favorite volumes) so she wound up trying to lug boxes with the rest of them. Pete, Pluto and Mickey poked their heads around the corner to see Minnie, Panchito and Jose – the birds doing their absolute best not to look at each other – lugging more boxes out into the hallway. No doubt they would all return for more, so they only had one chance to pull this off. They waited until they could no longer see Minnie, before tip-toeing to the room and carefully sliding the door open, not wanting to make a peep.

The sight of all those books that were still around made Mickey's stomach queasy – without realizing she'd gotten rid of most of them. Combined with the guilt of the promise being broken, and being in a girl's room without permission, it was taking every ounce of strength for Mickey not to upchuck.

“Where is it, where is it, where is it?” Pete hissed in a whisper – the closer he was getting to his goal, the more impatient he became.

Mickey slid off of Pluto's head, bouncing once on the floor before walking upright. “She said it's right... here.” He headed for the most obvious place in the room where any young girl would hide something important, a place so obvious that most people would have dismissed the idea since it was too obvious.

Which was why Mickey was scooting right under Minnie's bed.

Pete stared at the Princess' bed, covered in lace and satin and books, and slapped both of his hands to his face. It kept him from screaming swears to high heaven, and he thought that if this was the Emperor's idea, he wished the old man would come back to life so Pete could personally kill him. He pulled his face down hard, teeth gnashing, trying to control himself again. He was so close, he couldn't blow it now just because the Emperor was perhaps the dumbest person who had ever lived – or who had been such an overbearing parent that he thought keeping a powerful object underneath his daughter's bed would keep her from marrying ill suitors. Either way, he never thought he'd hate a corpse so much.

Still, there was only so much of his temper he could control, and instead of waiting for Mickey to pull out the Lucky Hammer, he reached over and grabbed the edge of the bed with one hand, leaning it over to one side with a crrrreaaaak. Mickey jumped a bit at this display of strength, but in a funny way found it comforting – Pete was already so big and strong, so he'd have no use for the Lucky Hammer himself, right? Surely he'd just come along for moral support in case Mickey chickened out.

As for the hammer itself?

It was certainly large, the head being wider and bigger than the handle, all of it golden and sparkling. Decorative wooden flames had been placed on both sides, along with a snake-like pattern curling around the hammer. At first Mickey thought the candles in the room were giving the Lucky Hammer wonderful glow, but upon closer inspection, the glow was coming from the hammer itself. It pulsated almost like a human heart, but in a soft and warm way, as if trying to assure all around that everything was okay. Just being near the divine weapon made Mickey feel a little light-headed, but he shook the feeling away with one hard nod of his head. Even though the Hammer obviously hadn't been touched in ages, there wasn't any trace of dust, rust or any sign that time had passed. It was as immortal as the gods, and Mickey momentarily felt very unworthy of it. Slowly, delicately, he walked toward the hammer, and lightly touched the handle.

He felt a pleasant spark ride through his hand, like a first kiss or the thrill of a fought victory. His heart began to beat harder than before, but through all this excitement, one important question remained. “How do I use it?” He asked Pete, his fingers twitching nervously. Mickey couldn't even make his fingers reach all around the handle, it was bigger than he was, like many things in life. The stories he heard merely said the Lucky Hammer made things bigger or smaller – how had never come up. What an awful time to realize such a thing! “Hm... well, hammers are usually for hitting things... am I supposed to hit myself with it?” Aside from being physically impossible, that would hurt like the dickens.

“All you have to do is shake it three times to change your size,” said Pete rather matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that's a relief.” Similarly, it took Mickey three seconds to realize another issue. “Wait, why do you know that?”

“You think I'd try stealing it for so long without making sure I knew how to use it?” Again, he enjoyed the dawning look of horrified realization on Mickey's face, and enjoyed it further when he reached down to yank the Lucky Hammer in his hands. “Man, oh man, I was sick of leaving those smoke messages to all those idiots across Japan. I heard some of them even thought about laying down their arms and giving up to live peacefully! They'll be the first ones I get rid of under my new rule!”

Pluto began to growl, standing in front of his gobsmacked master. Mickey began to shake, hoping any second now he'd wake up from this nightmare. “P-Pete... that was you, every night? Setting those fires, climbing up the palace? You were sending messages? To who?” Yet even as he asked, he had a terrible feeling he already knew, and that his selfishness had sealed the fate of Japan.

“Where are my manners?” Pete answered with a loud laugh, now no longer caring who heard him. He tossed the bed into a corner, and it crashed so hard it split in two, sending mountains of books to the floor. Mickey yelped, and Pluto grabbed him with his teeth, hoisting him onto his back before his master could be flattened. “I never introduced my real self, did I? But since you did me the great favor of getting me the Lucky Hammer, I think I owe you at least that!” He reached up to his head, and began to yank off his helmet. “I can finally take this cruddy thing off... you have any idea what it feels like to wear a helmet for years, as you sleep and bathe?” But he had a good reason why he never took it off – once it popped off, it revealed two garish horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Y-Y-You're an Oni!” Mickey sputtered, trying to pull out his needle sword, the makeshift weapon almost falling out of his hands due to his nerves.

“I ain't no ordinary Oni!” Pete shook the hammer once. “You're looking at the greatest, strongest, mightiest Oni there ever was!” He shook it twice.

“My pal, Mickey... I am THE ONI KING!”

With one last shake, Pete took on the same golden glow as the hammer, yellow and green mist encircling his entire body. He began to laugh, a horrendously strong belly laugh that grew louder as he grew taller – taller – taller – not stopping as his head hit the ceiling, not as his shoulders began destroying rooftops, as his elbows broke windows. Pluto ran as fast as he could as the bedroom began to rip apart all around them, the screams of scared servants echoing all across the dying palace. Mickey was afraid to even glance behind him to see the destruction Pete was leaving by him merely standing there, his laughter now reaching all across the kingdom, villagers rushing out of their homes as they felt the very earth shake.

Outside, the trees from the gardens began to topple over, the fence bending before breaking off and shooting off dangerous splinters across the air. Everyone within the palace had managed to make it out, although many were suffering from wounds and marks from the collapsing rooms. Donald held onto his wife, Clarabelle fainted into Goofy's arms, and the remaining samurai surrounded the devastated Princess, who watched Pete continue to grow, her mouth open but no words leaving her. Within seconds, the sun was blocked out, Pete's shadow encasing the entire kingdom in darkness.

And there Mickey stood, among his friends and family, watching Pete - the Oni King - take in his glory, feeling smaller than ever before.

[pandawritespoorly]

Bottled Up Emotions

Author’s Note: I've been planning on writing something for Sanders Sides eventually. Finally got around to it, and I hope to do more. Just one shots, I only want one chaptered story at a time for now.

Summary: Sure, Patton said he wouldn't bottle up his emotions anymore, but that's easier said than done.

Patton woke up with a start. He can’t remember what the dream was about, but it must have been a nightmare, given that he can feel the all too familiar feeling of another bottle filling up.

He knows he promised he’d stop hiding how he feels, but that was about Thomas’ emotions.

Not his own.

No time to dwell on it anyways! He has to make breakfast!

Rushing to the kitchen, he decides to make pancakes. He knows the recipe by heart (heh, by heart) so that means none of that pausing to double-check sort of moment.

Pausing gives him time to dwell on the bottles.

Pancakes are fun anyways! He can make cat ones!

“Hey Pop-star.” Virgil enters the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter as he scrolls through tumblr.

“Hi Virgil!” Patton slips him a plate of pancakes, receiving a smile in return as thanks.

It doesn’t take too much longer for him to finish off the batter. In that time, Logan and Roman have come down for their breakfast, debating as they eat.

Patton hasn’t eaten yet, so he sits to do so. Virgil has moved to the couch, headphones on and the others are obviously distracted, so he eats in silence.

He can’t help but notice the dripping of the sink.

It’s been like that for a while, but it’s really getting to him now.

It’s just-

Drip

So-

Drip

Aggravating.

Normally he’d be able to ignore it, but little things like that have really been getting to him recently.

Now he has a headache. Again.

A bottle of frustration fills up. Anger too, because otherwise he’ll snap at one of his famILY members, and he really doesn’t want that.

Last he checked, there wasn’t much room left for more emotions. He’ll have to grab some bottles in a moment. Sure, he can expand his room all he wants, but objects being created out of thin air is for Roman.

So stealing random bottles from old memories it is. Thomas won’t notice.

Neither will anyone else, not if he can help it.

He’s perfectly fine.

As he stands, he grabs some ibuprofen. Looking through memories won’t be helped by a headache.

“Another headache, Padre?” Roman notices him swallowing the pills.

“Yeah.” he shrugs sheepishly.

“You’ve been havin’ a lot of those recently. You good, Pat?” Virgil shifts his headphones, peering at him with more concern than usual.

Another bottle of guilt.

“I’m purr-fectly fine!” he pumps his voice full of cheer and waves with a sleeve of the hoodie around his shoulders.

“Perhaps I should look into the cause of this. It seems peculiar for the frequency of your headaches to have increased so noticeably.” Logan observes calmly, refusing to acknowledge the pun.

“I’m fine Lo’!” he moves to the stairs as he speaks, “Really guys! I’ll just use today to clean up my room a little! A little headache never stopped me!”

That’s a good reason for him to be upstairs. They don’t need to know about his memory searches. Besides, he is going to his room momentarily, just to see how much space is left in the closet anyways.

Still, a bottle of anxiety for the half-truth. He hopes they don’t decide to check on him while he’s going through the closet or that they realize he’s been keeping things from them.

Great, now he’s dwelling on it. That means he’s still feeling it. Another bottle for that. He’s really on a roll today, huh?

---

 Virgil is worried. Nothing new, but it’s more than usual.

So something is probably wrong. It started with Patton having another headache this morning. What if something’s wrong with him?

He thought that’d been all of it, but no. As the fatherly side was on his way up, Virgil felt a clear pang of anxiety from him. Gone as soon as it arrived.

Too soon.

Then it returned, but again, it was gone just as quickly as it came.

He spends a few moments debating things internally. Sure he’s worried, but as he’s said, that’s nothing new, and he really hates to be an annoyance.

At the same time, if he doesn’t check on Patton he’ll only get even more concerned, and then he’d get fidgety, and someone would notice, and then they’d be concerned and or they’d think he’s weird, and either way they’ll probably-

Nope. No time for that. Checking on Patton time.

He stands, slipping his headphones onto his neck, and makes his way up the stairs.

Knocking on Patton’s door, he peeks in as it opens at his touch.

“Patton? Are you in here? I wanted to talk…” he trails off. The room is empty, but his closet is open.

That’s always been shut. Maybe he’s in there? It could be bigger than it looks.

Patton probably wouldn’t get mad at him for entering his room right? Patton has told him to come in whenever he wants, but maybe he was just being nice.

He stops when he can see inside the closet.

Shelves upon shelves of bottles filled with clear liquids, though there are differences in them if you knew how to look.

Virgil knows. He knows these kind of bottles all too well.

 ---

“Roman? Logan? You guys need to come upstairs, we have a problem.” Virgil calls down the stairs authoritatively.

That’s all it takes to key in the other two sides that something is definitely wrong. Virgil isn’t exactly fond of being commanding unless he thinks it’s absolutely necessary.

When he leads them to Patton’s closet - full of strange bottles - they aren’t entirely sure what it’s supposed to get from it.

“Patton sure …likes water?” Roman ventures.

“No!”

“Would you care to elaborate on your discovery and why we should be troubled by it?” Logan requests.

“Those are emotions-”

“He is at the core of Thomas’ feelings-” Roman starts, still confused.

“Bottled up emotions.” Virgil continues.

“Oh.”

“How are you so sure?” Logan would like to have this backed up with data. Not that he doesn’t trust Virgil, but figuratively ‘jumping to conclusions’ has never proved useful.

“I used to do this. I know what they look like.” he turns, finding a bottle seemingly at random, “Here, see? This one is ‘anger’. See all the bubbles?”

Now that he’s pointed it out, they can see that it looks near boiling. They both reach out, drawing back in surprise when it’s hot to the touch.

“So all of these…” Roman trails off, taking in the many, many, many shelves of bottles. Big and small, stuffed everywhere there’s room.

“Each and every one of them.” Virgil nods.

“How should we proceed?” Logan asks.

“Smash it!” Roman shouts, knocking one to the floor.

“Is that wise-”

“Not what I was going to say, but I can get behind that.” Virgil violently drops the anger to floor.

“Perhaps you should not do that.” Logan advises.

“You can’t run through a bottle with sword, so smashing it to bits is the next best option!” Roman argues.

“I cannot help but think that perhaps this approach may be negatively impacting Patton.” Logan pushes his glasses into place, “If you continue in this manner, he may become overwhelmed. The emotions seem to head in his direction once released-”

“Guys?” Patton peeks through the door, tear tracks present on his face. Evidently, Roman had knocked down some sadness.

“Patton!”

“What are you doing in here?” he sets the empty bottles in his arms down carefully, only noticing when he looks up that the closet is open - smashed bottles on the floor.

He stammers as he tries to come up with a plausible explanation, “Oh, I should have warned you kiddos! Those are fragile! I lock them up for a reason-”

“I know what they are Pat.” Virgil speaks, “You’ve been bottling up your emotions.”

Patton remains silent, but one of the empty bottles left in the closet fills up.

Panic.

“We aren’t mad.” Roman assures.

“Just worried about you. I thought we told you that you didn’t have to do this.” Virgil finishes for him.

“F-for Thomas’ emotions. N-not mine…” Patton tries to explain himself. Are they disappointed? Are they mad? This is exactly why he didn’t want them to find out!

“Patton, it is unhealthy to ‘bottle up’ emotion - so to speak - in any circumstance. Given that you have returned with more empty bottles, you must be aware that this is not sustainable.”

“I’ll be fi-”

“This isn’t fine.” Virgil gestures at all the bottles, “Why?”

“I just… I don’t like feeling bad. I don’t want…” he trails off, hugging his arms to himself.

“Oh Pat.” Roman sighs sadly.

“Patton you are permitted to feel negative emotions.”

“But-”

“No. Logan’s right. You can feel however you want to feel, at any time. Trust me, it’s so much better than this.” Virgil jerks his thumbs at the shelves.

“Really, we’d prefer that you tell us when you’re upset about something instead of just putting it here. You don’t have to keep it all inside.” Roman assures.

Patton sighs, “Okay.” he nods, “Okay. I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

“That’s all we ask of you,” Roman smiles.

“What can we do about the existing bottles?” Logan turns to Virgil.

“Actually…” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “All we can do is smash ‘em. Sorry Pat…”

So that’s what they do. Logan sits with Patton on his bed as Virgil and Roman knock every last bottle from the shelves. All the anger, and sadness, and guilt, and… there’s a lot of everything there. There’s even a few positive ones hidden away.

They decide they’ll end with the one Virgil identified as happiness.

Once they’ve finished, Roman fixes the bottles, returning them where they belong, changes the closet back to it’s usual size, and Patton has gotten his breathing back under control, the sides swarm him with hugs. Even Logan.

“A movie night!” Roman declares.

“It is not even midday-” Logan starts.

“A movie day!” Roman corrects, “Comfy clothes and Disney for all!”

They pile on the couch with popcorn, fluffy blankets, pillows, and everything they’d usually have for a movie night.

It’s a good day.

Old habits die hard of course. It took time for Patton to adjust to not bottling everything up, but it didn’t have to be a secret anymore. The others would check on his closet every so often, to be sure it wasn’t getting out of control again.

Eventually, he got better at it. Virgil was right, he liked it so much better when he wasn’t constantly worrying about the bottles in his closet. Letting his emotions out wasn’t as bad as he’d worked himself up to believe.

Things are better this way, Patton is happier this way.

---

Author’s Note: I was stuck on how to write an upcoming chapter of With Time. That combined with the fact that I'd had clearly spent too long in Miraculous Paris led to this! I don't like it a lot, but my friend won't let me not post it, so here it is! I hope you enjoy!

How do you know when you've spent too long in Miraculous Paris, you ask? Well, when you get yourself mad and then catch yourself thinking 'don't get mad, you don't want to get akumatized' it's a pretty good indicator, as there are two big things wrong with that: #1 It's a fictional story, and #2 I don't even live in Paris. I'm literally across the ocean.

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below! (Still working on that new sign off)

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Winter Rain

I'd like to thank @xerxezra for the encouragement. I really needed it, and to the Enya song in which the title and fic is based on. I'm still working on the fic to go with a fanart of mine, but until then feel free to check out my other fics which can be found on my Fanfic Masterpost or Ao3 links which are in my description under my header.

In this fic the reader deals with a change in plans.

_______________

City streets were passing by, underneath stormy skies. No, there were no neon signs but there were cargo trains rolling by on the tracks parallel to the main road. Hmm, wasn't that an Enya song? Perhaps it was.

Funny that you were thinking of new age songs when none were playing on the radio, though you wouldn't have minded if any music was on; it would've made a difference. Enya's songs in themselves reminded you of that one teacher in elementary school who wore that cherry brooch you liked and drowned herself in a bottle of perfume. Your teacher, whatever her name, was halfway pleasant, but always wore a blouse which was a size too big and thus you always saw more of her then you cared to whenever she leaned over a desk to assist another student. Another Enya song, Only Time, reminded you of that one book you tried to read around that time with the questionable cover. Of course, neither of these things had anything to do with the drive home, but it was a passing nostalgia you couldn't pass up.

Wiry, naked trees were scattered along the way; none of them of much consequence except to the fragments of your imagination, where they were dancers in a wintery, mournful ballet. For his part, Rick was unaware of these random thoughts, for you had not mentioned them, but you did wonder about something else when you took a glance at the time and found you two were getting home a little faster than usual. “Rick, do you prefer driving? Or is flying in your spaceship easier?”

“I-I think each one is great in its own way,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the road. “but th-the fastest way to travel is by using my portal gun.”

“So it is. Hmm, makes me wonder what the Flash would have to say about that.” you commented as rain pitter-pattered against the passenger side window. “I bet he'd have a few things to say if you can catch him.”

“Gee, I don't know. I'll ugh - I'll have to ask him the next time I'm in his Earth dimension.”

Sometimes you didn't know if he was being serious or simply joking, though you tended to believe him, especially since it only added to your natural wonder. Your curiosity was a quality which tickled him immensely, but whether he could withstand it while driving was not something you were about to test. Outside, straight ahead, the roads looked all the same, although, to the discerning eye, one would notice the cracks here and there, and the splattered paint on the curb closest to city hall and the fire station. And while the roads were neither empty or full, you would say they were in want of life and perhaps a good shoveling, but with whatever technology hidden in the nooks and crannies of his station wagon, you two drove on the icy roads with ease. It was cold outside, but you weren't cold; Rick made sure of that by giving you the heated seat and a quilt to drape over yourself.

You were, however slightly bored because Zeta-7 hadn't been talking all that much this evening. He had been in a mood and you thought it could've had something to do with the phone call he received while you two were at the craft shop but he didn't say. It hadn't made him any less sweet, but he seemed distant in a familiar way that you were sure you had experienced some time ago. Perhaps he was fearful, he would have reason; contemplative as always; afraid, to an almost unhealthy degree, but risking a chance to placate him, you joked. “Are you trying something new? Is it a seduction tactic, cause I'm certainly intrigued.”

“Wh-what?” he blushed, as he turned the corner to head towards your street.

“Aren't you trying the broodish thing all cool guys do in those cheap romance novels? You know, the kind they sell at the drugstore?” you giggled, turning up the heat in the car to fit your preference.

“Gosh, n-n-no. I ugh - I-I don't think I'm cool enough t-t-to do that.”

“Really? Well, I think if you wanted to you could, though I doubt you'd try it unless convinced it would work. Not sure how effective it would be on me, but this isn't about me. What's going on with you,” you questioned with a serious, but gentle candor. “you haven't said much tonight.”

“I ugh - I have a few things on my mind is all, but it's going t-to be okay. I'm sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Not too much, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you?”

Stopping in front of your home, he admitted with a sudden disheartenment. “I don't know. Sometimes it's - it's hard to know especially if you hear bad news but I th-think I will be. Eventually.”

One of his watches was flashing, and it made you wonder if it meant what you thought it meant. While you couldn't read the line of code which passed over its digital face, you thought you'd seen a similar line of code before. “Are you going to have to go? Is that what's bothering you? I know you promised that we'd paint together tonight, but you won't be able to will you?”

“No, I'm - I'm sorry. I had asked for the whole week off, but this - it's from my supervisor. I can't ignore it. I have to go in. I-I really wish I didn't have to.”

“Oh Rick, if you had to go, why didn't you tell me earlier? I would've understood.”

“You were having such a-a great time picking out supplies that I didn't - I couldn't bring myself to crush your excitement. Now th-that I think about it, I don't know if this was any better, but I-I asked that I'd be able to bring you home first so that I wouldn't have to worry about leaving you there without a-a word.”

Zeta-7 hated to break his promises, and you hated the feeling of a broken promise, but as he switched the car off, and you two walked towards your porch, you admitted. “I would've figured it out and got home somehow. I mean there's enough Uber drivers in this town, and one of them would've driven me home, but I'm glad that at least I had this time with you. Please be careful and visit me whenever. You know you can.”

Instead of comforting him as your easy resignation usually would, he balled his fists and hit them against the railing; hateful of his own inadequacies. You had to admit that when he got upset, it caught you off guard, but it also reminded you that he still was very much a Rick, albeit a softer one. “Th-this wasn't supposed to happen. I-I don't understand why it always comes to this. We were - I had so many things planned out for us and th-”

You hugged him from behind, interrupting what he was going to say. “There will always be next time. Calm down,” you cooed, “it's all going to be okay. It's not the end of the world and I'm not upset by it.”

“But I don't - I don't want t-to keep doing this to you. I promised.”

“I know, but it's not like you do this on purpose. You see, this is what happens when a girl like me dates a guy like you. Expect the unexpected, and maybe a few space worms every once in a while if I eat a sandwich from a gas station on a comet somewhere. These things happen.”

“I wish it - it didn't. Lately,” he confessed, his voice taking on its softer quality. “I've been thinking a-about when I'd like to retire. Maybe I finally should.”

“Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it. As long as it makes you happy, but only if you do it without regret. You would know best of course.”

“I-I certainly hope so.”

You two stood there in silence for a moment, but you heard a beeping noise emanate from under his sleeve. “I d-don't want to say goodbye, but I'll miss you m-mi corazón.”

When he wasn't around, your home felt emptier,

though you refrained from saying so, and because you didn't want to add to his guilt you simply said. “I'll miss you too.”

“Th-there's a chance I won't see you in a few days. At least it will feel th-that way for me.”

“You can always call me, and if you can't then I'll see you when I see you. You know where I'll be.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “somewhere I-I'm not.”

“Don't say that. You're always on my mind, and I'd like to think you're always with me, in one way or another. There's no way I couldn't think of you.”

He turned around to face you, his eyes appearing twice as expressive through his glasses. Zeta-7 studied you and brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. “Siempre estás c-conmigo, and because of - of that, I'm never truly l-lonely.”

“Oh Rick, I love you.”

As easily as it was to adore him with your entire being, so it was to break his heart. Whether it had been a lack of love or an abundance of heartache in his life thus far which shook him to his bones, a replenishing of spirit was always in order. You weren't tall, you never had been, but stepping on the tips of your toes, you pressed a kiss on his cheek that never failed to floor him, and marvel as though it were from a fairy queen; one comprised of stardust and moonbeams. “This means you belong to me. Got it cutie? No one else has dibs except for me, so don't look so surprised. You're mine.”

Like a tease, the weather picked up and the strong gust which followed made you shiver, which alarmed him and prevented his reply. You were trying to tough it out because he could be gone at any moment. And must've sensed this, for against your control you shivered once more, but he pulled off his own scarf to wrap around your neck. “It's going t-t-to get colder,” he said protectively. “so please don't forget to wrap yourself up tonight. I um - I placed a-a few thick blankets in your closet just in case. Why d-don't you go inside?”

“Because I can bear it for a little bit longer. Thank you,” you smiled sweetly up at him, despite losing feeling in your cheeks. “but I doubt I'll try to leave my house for the next few days. I'll look after this for you. Hopefully, it's going to be warmer where you're going.”

“I-I can't say, it's…”

“Classified information.” you finished.

“Gosh, I-I-I guess you know th-the drill by now. Smart girl.”

“Maybe. I don't know much, but I know you, and that you can't tell me certain things because you don't want whichever information to be held against me. At least I'm learning. Either way,” you softened, buttoning the top button on his jacket. “please be careful.”

“I-I will. Can I um - can I-I give you a kiss?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Though of course, he would ask as though your disappointment would disqualify his validity to partake of your affection. He bent down to try to kiss you goodbye, his glasses fogging up at the closeness between you two, but a portal opened right behind him and the guard Rick's on the other side pulled him through. And like that, he was gone again; without a choice; without a goodbye. Your arms which had been around his waist a moment ago, you brought down to rest at your sides, and you too clenched your fists in quick frustration but found yourself halfway exhausted by the cold temperatures and suddenness of it all.

His scarf felt warm and soft about your neck and smelled like him; of vanilla, and of whatever his house smelled like. You thought of the painting that you two would not do tonight, and how you were once again alone. That seemed to magnify it all, intensify the fact that you might've always been alone and destined to remain as such. It used to make you cry when you realized that he could be taken from you at any moment, but you had gotten used to it, or at least you thought you did. Only a few hours ago, you two were at a café, discussing painting techniques and how with a little practice you too could paint that little tree you liked that was growing in the corner of your yard; his enthusiasm was contagious, and you were pumped because you really wanted to show him you had been practicing.

If once again someone cried, then it was you because he couldn't cry where he was going; he wouldn't dare to and repress it for as long as he could help it; if only you were as strong.

Oh, winter rain, how could it relate? It knew little except its natural way; of falling upon the earth; of life; of beginnings; of letting go; of uncertainty. Yet, it wasn't the rains fault; it does not know and could not know; if only. It was cold, and you were cold, with the only part of you that was really warm being where his scarf was.

Thinking of what lied in store for him made you want him back all the more so that you could hold him, and make him feel safe. You wanted him back now because it seemed so unfair that they'd take him when he didn't want to go, but you couldn't bring him back; not even for his sake; being against your power just like the rain. For now, all you could do was only open the front door to your home and step in as the last train passed by; not knowing when the next will come.

Fin