#nothing against bliss i never saw the new cartoon

[dailyedgeworth]

today, maya fey's the violet ppg. for me.

[yurimother]

The Best Yuri of 2019

2019 was a challenging year for many, in and out of the anime community, which is still reeling from the horrific attack at Kyoto Animation’s first studio in July that killed 36 people. However, I want to take this moment, as we start a new decade, to reflect on some of the greatest achievements in Yuri.

2019 marked the genre’s 100th anniversary, 100 years since Nobuko Yoshiya released her landmark lesbian novel Yaneura no Nishojo that shaped and created Yuri as we know it. It was possible Yuri’s best years ever, as more incredible titles were released and localized, we experienced fantastic events and moments, and more. This article is part of my continuing celebration of all things Yuri!

Note that many of the works mentioned came out before 2019, but they either were first released in English during 2019 or hit particular high points during this year. Now then, here is the best of Yuri in 2019!

15: SukeraSparo

This Japanese Yuri visual novel developer is starting to reach new heights as they set their sights on releasing new and innovate Yuri titles. The English release of The Expression Amrilato, an educational Yuri visual novel that teaches the player Esperanto, was one of the most unique and creative works I have the pleasure of playing this year. But, they outdid themselves this year, releasing a sequel, Itsuka no Memorajxo, creating one of the most beautiful Yuri games in Folklore of Kudan, and founding a sister brand, SukeraSomero, “to fill the world with YURI!”

The Expression Amrilato is available in English for PC on Steam and Mangagamer

14: Mage & Demon Queen

This outrageous and vivacious webcomic hits its stride in Season 2. After setting a solid foundation, this masterpiece by Kuru “Color-LES” is finally able to explore some more interesting plot lines such as its characters’ pasts, conflicts between the demons and humans, and figuring out who’s gonna be the bottom (it’s Malori, it was always going to be Malori). It is chock full of modern humor and moments I can only describe as hilariously kinky, while rarely feeling gross of sleazy. I can only wait to see what is next for these star-crossed lovers.

Mage & Demon Queen: is available to read in English on Webtoon

13: Yuri Anthologies

In 2018, Yen Press gave us the first hint of some Yuri anthologies starting to squeak into the West with Éclair, but 2019 threw the floodgates open! New works are coming out in both Japan and the West, featuring multiple artists coming together to create works featuring workplace romance, isekai, first-time stories, and even MARRIAGE!! Additionally, creators released volumes collecting their various short stories, like Rouge Nagashiro’s Eve and Eve, and some series saw multiple artists contribute to an already established world such as in the Bloom Into You Anthologies.

12: SHWD

Sono’s science fiction Yuri doujinshi series, published in English by Lilyka, is everything I did not know I wanted in a Yuri series. It showcases pulse-pounding action as the women of the “Special Hazardous Waste Disposal” fight to take down the horrific Dynamis. It has musclebound beasts of women that exude strength, power, and femininity at all times. And it has a compelling story about overcoming personal conflicts and learning to rely on others.

SHWD is available digitally on Lilyka

11: If I Could Reach You

No other series this year delivered an emotional gut-punch like If I Could Reach You. This tragic and beautiful manga by tMnR follows a young girl as she attempts hopelessly to overcome her attraction to her brother’s wife. Everything from the artwork to the dialogue masterfully communicates the devastation and pain that the protagonist Uta feels. It is beautiful and devastating, and I carry every awesome moment on my mind continuously.

If I Could Reach You is available digitally and physically in English from Kodansha: https://amzn.to/36vsYPe

Honorable mention: SQ/Tamen de Gushi/Their Story 

2019 was a little bit of a slow year for Tan Jiu’s webtoon, thanks to an extended hiatus, especially when compared to 2018’s triumphant and spectacular storyline. However, small moments of genius like Sun Jing’s father’s phenomenal visual monologue keep this work in peak form top and my heart. I hope that its recent Japanese serialization on Comic Walker help even more people enjoy it.

10: Still Sick

In my recent review, I called this workplace romance a “Yuri manga for Yurijin,” and there is no way I could come up with a more apt description. Still Sick surprised me with its self-awareness, knowledge, and commentary on the genre. It has an incredibly deep story about two complex and layered characters that ignite each other’s passion, in more ways than one.

Still Sick is available digitally and physically in English from Tokyopop: https://amzn.to/2rVRH07

9: Going Beyond Girl Meets Girl

Yuri stories tend to repeat the same story, two girls meet, they fall for each other, they get together, THE END! The past decade or so has finally seen more stories adding sexual elements, in contrast to earlier S works, and some even explored the dating life of two schoolgirls. However, we have recently seen something remarkable: works featuring couples “graduating” (literally or metaphorically) and enter the real world. Series like Citrus, Kase-san, and, briefly, Bloom Into You explore the relationships as they exit the honeymoon phase and get into the meat of lesbian livelihood.

Kase-san and Yamada is available for English preorder: https://amzn.to/2MXnp4w

8: Nagata Kabi

Over the past few years, Nagata Kabi has redefined what the Yuri genre can be. Her powerful autobiographical manga essays My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, My Solo Exchange Diary, and Genjitsu Touhi Shitetara Boroboro ni Natta Hanashi communicate her experiences with queer identity, mental illness, and alcoholism. No work of fiction could ever hope to reach Nagata’s strength and crushing honesty. Nagata’s manga has and will continue to change readers and the genre for years to come.

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness is available digitally and physically in English from Seven Seas: https://amzn.to/2MZ7DWJ 

7: Bloom Into You

Nakatani Nio’s popular Yuri series Bloom Into You crushed it in 2019. It concluded serialization, ending on an incredibly high note, and dominating the market in both English and Japanese, selling over one million copies (well deserved). Additionally, Sentai Filmworks released an excellent collector’s edition of the 2018 television anime adaption that is now a must-have for Yuri collectors. But my favorite aspect of this series is the spin-off light novel series featuring one of its best characters, which have already begun English release.

Bloom Into You: Regarding Saeki Sayaka is available digitally and for physical preorder from Seven Seas: https://amzn.to/2SVPVHG

6: Heart of the Woods

When I heard that one of the co-creators of Highway Blossoms, one of the better English Yuri visual novels, was creating his own studio, I was pretty excited. But nothing could have prepared me for Studio Élan's first release, Heart of the Woods, which blew me away. The enchanting adventure full of exceptionally queer characters shattered every expectation I had. I am looking forward to its Switch port and voice acting patch, as well as more titles from Élan.

Heart of the Woods is available for PC on Steam. Switch edition coming later this year.

Honorable mention: Hayama-sensei to Terano-sensei wa Tsukiatte iru

Oui Pikachi’s manga about two teachers navigating a new relationship is one of my new favorites. Everyone is so supportive of the title characters as they stumble their way through an honest and mature love. However, I am only giving it an honorable mention this year, as I am sure it will be on this list next year after Seven Seas releases the first volume in English as The Gym Teacher and School Nurse are Dating!

The Gym Teacher and School Nurse are Dating! is available for preorder in English from Seven Seas: https://amzn.to/39JhXMs

5. Sexiled

Ameko Kaeruda’s spectacularly feminist and outrageously funny light novel series Sexiled is could ever ask for and more. I feel in love with its compelling female characters and their riveting battle against the sexist conventions of their society, all of which painfully mirror reality. This work is cathartic, empowering, and so very, very gay.

Sexiled is available digitally in English from J-Novel Club. Physical edition coming later this year: https://amzn.to/35u6NaW

4: Yuri Life

I adore domestic Yuri. Granted, I love a good romance and fantasy, but so many of these stories exist that it feels overwhelming, and sometimes it is just good to sit down and read about two women who love each other living their everyday adult lives in bliss. Kurukuruhime’s Yuri Life, which I have enjoyed ever since it was first uploaded to Pixiv and am so proud to own in print, is precisely that. Nine couples being cute and living together in a variety of humorous, scandalous, and adorable situations. Yuri cohabitation has never been so good! Now, if I could only get some Yuri titles about women raising kids together…

Yuri Life is available digitally and physically in English from Yen Press: https://amzn.to/35stSLg

3: Children’s Cartoons

For the past several years, children’s cartoons and media have slowly begun to allow bits of queer representation onto the screen. While we are still a long way from having Elsa kiss a girl, the small and large victories on children’s television give me hope. Some of my personal favorites include an episode of Nickelodeon’s The Loud House about a lesbian date, a lesbian couple and agender character (using they/them pronouns) in Craig of the Creek, the female protagonist of Twelve Forever developing a crush on another girl, and of course the unbelievable amount of queerness that She-Ra and Steven Universe shove into every moment. I wish I had more series like these when I was young, and I am thrilled that my students get to grow up with them.

2: Our Dreams at Dusk (Shimanami Tasogare)

Yuhki Kamatani’s Our Dreams at Dusk is easily 2019’s best manga. The incredible story explores many real aspects of LGBTQ identities, gay, lesbian, trans, non-binary, and asexual included, in an emotional and resonating masterpiece. The artwork is stunning and more expressive than words could ever be. I stand by what I said in my review, that Our Dreams at Dusk is the greatest manga I have ever read and wholeheartedly believes that it was deserving of the only 10/10 score I gave in 2019.

Our Dreams at Dusk is available digitally and physically in English from Seven Seas: https://amzn.to/2s282AE

Honorable mention: ‘The Conditions of Paradise’ Licensed

One of the best moments of this year came out of Anime Expo when Seven Seas announced that they had licensed Morishima Akiko’s Rakuen no Jouken and would be releasing it as The Conditions of Paradise in 2020. Not only is The Conditions of Paradise a fantastic and mature work of Yuri literature, but it is also over a decade old, having been published originally in 2007. This license, more than anything else, helped me realize how far Yuri came this year. Not only is the hottest new series being adapted, but a historic and profound classic of the genre.

The Conditions of Paradise is available for preorder in English: https://amzn.to/2FjTE9M

1: Yuri Publishers

Not too long ago, it was rare for us to see more than a few Yuri manga releases in a year if any, but now we are at the point where a publisher can do an event announcing five Yuri licenses in a single day! As of this year, all the major publishers, and plenty of smaller ones, are actively licensing, adapting, and publishing amazing Yuri works: Yen Press, Viz, Kodansha, Seven Seas, Tokyopop, Renta, J-Novel Club, and more keep giving us incredible Yuri. I also have to mention the incredible work Lilyka Manga is doing, working directly with mangaka to adapt Yuri doujinshi titles into English, something I would have never dreamed of a few years ago.

As Yuri enters its second century, we are staring down the rest of 2020, a year that will no doubt go down in current Yuri history. The year will see a record number of Yuri manga releases both in Japan and from licensed series in the West. We are getting several promising anime series like Adachi to Shimamura, Magia Record, Oshi ga Budoukan Ittekuretara Shinu, a Princess Principal movie, and more. I cannot wait to see what this year will hold for YuriMother and the Yuri genre. I hope you all stick with me through it as we navigate the waters of a newer, gayer, and greater world of Yuri.

[laequiem]

No tricks, only treats [ONESHOT]

/ Cardan and Jude join the rest of the family to enjoy Halloween in the Mortal World.

Part of Tales from the Mortal Realm, a collection of random moments in the lives of the Queen and King of Elfhame.

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

Read it on ao3

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

I saw him prowl towards me through the glass. He slid his arms around my waist, staring at me through my reflection.

Today is October 31st and Oak insisted we join him in celebrating Halloween. Of course, this means we all need costumes. I decided to go as the one character I knew more than anyone else.

Cardan.

I looked through his wardrobe for my outfit. It was quite hard to find a top that was loose enough to account for my breasts, as most of his clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly. I also found a dark blue coat, its collar covered in iridescent feathers. I gave up trying to find pants in his collection, as my hips would never fit, and just wore a pair of black leggings with black combat boots.

"What do you mean, dear Jude?"

"The only thing you love more than booze is yourself."

He raised his brows, making a show of looking offended. 

"Your capacity to lie to yourself will always impress me,” he said then plucked a kiss to my temple, “I love you more than I love wine."

I don’t think I will ever get over him being  caring . It felt as if he was a completely different person from the boy who would disturb lessons just to get attention.

Cardan turned me to face him, then inspected my face. “Something is missing.” He took my hand and directed me to his personal vanity. He opened the drawer and pulled out some cosmetics. He lined my eyes with kohl and coated my lashes with dark mascara. I suppressed my laugh when I saw he was so concentrated that he had stuck out his tongue. Then, he took out some glittery gold powder and applied it on my cheekbones. 

He took a step back to look at his handiwork and smiled.

“And the final touch,” he said as he plucked his crown off his head and put it on my head at an angle, “Voilà!”

I looked at myself in the mirror. I did not bother with any kind of wig. I put my hair up in elaborate braids, letting a few short curls hang in a few places. Yet, even without his signature dark hair, I still looked like him. I made faces at myself in the mirror, trying to get his grin right. 

Finally, I got up. “Your turn now, dearest Cardan.”

When Heather learned that Cardan would be coming too, she started suggesting outfits for him. She even went as far as drawing some of them. Something about his otherworldly looks inspired her. Maybe it's the tail, since a lot of her designs included it: a devil, sexy cat man and my personal favorite, a cute puppy.

In the end, I chose my own, petty idea. I walked in the closet and pulled out the outfit I had the servants clean for the occasion. 

“A King needs his Queen,” I grinned as I revealed the Queen of Mirth dress and crown.

Cardan threw his head back laughing. “You sure know how to hold a grudge.”

Thankfully, my husband was a team player, and he went with it. Even in this, he looked strikingly handsome. Or pretty, I guess. Unfair.

We landed in Maine in the early afternoon. It was strange to be awake so early, but Cardan did not seem bothered at all. We met up with Vivi, Heather, Oak, Taryn and Garrett at the entrance to FallFest, some kind of harvest festival that was held every October in the local park. It had everything from harvest contests to food stands, a section with typical carnival games, a small hay maze and even a haunted house.

I was not surprised to see my eldest sister dressed up, she went crazy for Halloween every year. Vivienne would dress up for a week straight before Halloween, even when she still lived in Elfhame. She was wearing a tight black bodysuit with a tail and claws as well as a black leather mask with cat ears. Heather dressed up as some kind of … plant lady? She had a short bodysuit made of green ivy leaves, green stockings and a long red wig. Oak was with them, wearing a reddish pink shirt with a big yellow star on it. I can only assume they went for pop-culture references I am unfamiliar with.

The real surprise was seeing my twin Taryn and her quiet lover also dressed up.

"What are you dressed as?", Cardan inquired, cocking his head to the side, "You ought to have dressed as Jude, you have already proved to be so good at it."

I snapped my head at him and slammed my foot as hard as I could on his. He was joking, of course. But the peace between me and Taryn was still fairly new. We mostly kept to ourselves and rarely talked. Garrett was back with the Court of Shadow and we were friendly, but he kept his professional and personal lives completely separated.

Cardan was hopping on one foot, scowling at me like he did not understand why I was upset. Taryn understood, though. She was sheepishly looking at the ground.

"I… I'm sorry for tricking you, Cardan."

I tried finding something to say to end the awkwardness. I wanted Cardan to apologize for what he said, but I knew he would not. Fae don't apologize.

Thankfully, Vivi broke the silence. "C'mon guys, we're here to HAVE FUN!" she complained, "What ARE you two dressed as?"

"Phantom of the Opera." Garrett replied.

"Nerds."

"Says the one dressed up as Catwoman." Garrett mocked.

The bickering continued, though less mean-spirited than Cardan’s original comment, as we walked down the main path. Our first stop was the pumpkin carving station. Each couple got their own pumpkin to carve, though Vivi and Heather’s pumpkin was mostly Oak’s handiwork and the couple making sure he did not stab himself. Taryn and Garrett made some intricate flower design on theirs, Garrett being the one doing the carving of course. As for us, well… Cardan had creative ideas, but no skills with a blade, and my skills were more of the  stabbing  variety. We settled on giving our pumpkin a traditional jack-o-lantern face. 

After the effort of carving pumpkins, we were starving. Oak was complaining, dragging his feet on the ground so much that Vivi and Heathers were holding both of his hands to pull him along. Behind them, I saw Taryn with her arm looped around The Ghost's.

I was suddenly very aware that Cardan and I were the only ones not holding hands.

Nobody knows us here. We needn't keep the appearance of the power couple, together to rule and nothing else.

I took my hand out of the pockets of my borrowed coat and tentatively brushed my fingers against Cardan's hand. I saw him whip his head towards me, and I blushed when I witnessed the surprise in his face. Soon enough, he smiled. One of those smiles he kept for me and only me, blissful and happy. The smile he gives me when we have the time to spend hours cuddled together in bed, enjoying each other's presence.

Cardan took my hand and squeezed. I squeezed back.

We spent the rest of the afternoon eating good food, trying to guess the weight of giant pumpkins and visiting a haunted house. Cardan was fascinated by the weird human traditions and absolutely ecstatic about the food. Pumpkin-spiced flavored food will become the new trend in Elfhame, judging by his reaction.

When the sun started to go down, Taryn and Garrett left for Madoc’s, who decided to try giving out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Heather and Vivienne had initially volunteered to take Oak trick-or-treating himself, but when one of their friends invited them to a party, we offered to take him instead. Oak was excited to spend more time with me and “Uncle Cardan”. 

I had not gone trick-or-treating in...10 years? Maybe 12? Since my parents died. Cardan, obviously, had never gone. So, dressed up as each other, with Oak dressed as some cartoon character, we roamed the residential streets of the city to beg for sweets.

“If it is called ‘trick-or-treat’, does that mean I can make bargains if someone refuses to give me candy?” Cardan asked as we watched Oak go up to a house.

I gave him my best ‘I’ll-strangle-you-if-you-do’ stare. “No. No turning people into cats, no curse making them hear imaginary insects buzzing around their ears.”

“Why is it called trick-or-treat, then?”

Vivienne told me they had to explain this to Oak, too, a few weeks ago. Someone at school had mentioned being excited to go trick-or-treating and my brother had been very confused.

“I don’t know.”

Cardan hmmed and smirked, “Perhaps the Folk were involved when the holiday was first established.”

I crossed my arms.

“If that’s the case, not all traditions need to be brought back.”

He laughed at that, then reached around me and pulled me closer to him.

“You win. I won’t trick anyone,” he crooned in my ear, “but I want a kiss for being well behaved.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “So needy.”

Once again, I had to remind myself that nobody knows us here. Nobody recognized our costumes today: in the mortal world, dressed as each other, we were only The Guy In An Ugly Dress and Fashionable Emo Boy. Nobody knew we are King and Queen of Elfhame, therefore there are no expectations to be the hedonistic king and his murderous wife.

I slid my hand behind his neck and pulled him down. I felt him smile as I captured his lips with mine.

“Ew, gross!” Oak’s voice came from the other end of the driveway, “Stop that, come here.”

Reluctantly, we pulled away from each other and looked towards the house. Oak was in front of the opened door, talking with a couple. 

“Honey, look,” the tallest woman exclaimed as we walked down the driveway, “She’s dressed as High King Cardan!”

“Oh my god,” the other one replied, sounding so very human, “that sounds kind of profane. Do you think he would have her hung for this?”

As I looked at the two women, I realized that Oak had stumbled upon the house of a Fae couple. They saw through his glamour, and he saw through theirs.

“This is my sister Jude,” Oak started, “and this is my Uncle Cardan.”

Both females had gone completely still and were staring at Cardan with wide eyes. Simultaneously, they bowed deeply. 

“Forgive us, Your Majesty. We weren’t expecting you.”

“We so rarely see our kind around here,” the shorter one said nervously, “we… wanted to meet who little Oak was with.”

“We have tea, if you would like.”

I dared a glance at Cardan and noticed he seemed amused. Was he delighted to make them uncomfortable?

“That won’t be necessary,” he said as he took my hand, “My  wife  has us on a tight schedule, we have other houses to visit. Have a nice evening.”

I caught the emphasis on  wife  and realized they only recognized him as royalty. ‘  Your Majesty ’, singular. I could tell from the two females’ expressions that they also understood their mistake. I felt bad for them knowing they had no ill intent, probably unaware of the situation in Faerie. Yet, I could not help the grin that crept on my face. I worked hard to become High Queen. I fought and killed my way through the ranks, almost dying. Multiple times. I made decisions that will haunt me until the day I die. I am High Queen, and the Folk must know. 

“It was nice meeting you,” I say as I take Oak’s hand, “You are welcome to visit us at the palace if you wish.”

My memories from before Faerieland were to blurry, I did not remember getting so much candy. Did Taryn and I get that much? How could we possibly have eaten all of that? Cardan and I each had a smaller bag, only accompanying Oak to some of the doors, but Oak had multiple full bags. Once he went to sleep, Oriana was more than happy to give us some. She had learned how bad candy was for children’s teeth - even little Fae kids. She filled little bags for us to take back to Elfhame. 

Like anyone eating candy for the first time, Cardan went a little crazy. He wanted to try everything. Faeries might be different in a lot of ways, but I now have proof that chocolate is addictive even to them. 

The High King of Elfhame ate so much candy that he fell asleep on the couch, to the former General’s dismay.

[sur-un-fil]

“Karma is a bitch”

My entry in @nayialovecat's second contest! In both languages, of course... A (huge!) thank you to @waruihoshi for correcting the english version, without her I would have been too ashamed to participate! It's really a little novel, not my best, but it's the first time I participate to a contest and especially for a text in English. Here it is :)

I'll start with the English version and the French version is just below.

Enjoy!

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Fifteen didn't deserve this. He wasn't a bad ... person, and as long as he could remember (that is, until the morning before), he hadn't done anything to justify finding himself tied up and left to feed the Demon. Other than falling into a trap, of course. It wasn't fair. He still had several hours to live, he didn't want to end like this! Well, he would come back to life in the next cycle, but for some time now they had become unusually long. Who knows if they wouldn't just stop someday? Today, for example? With the bad luck that Fifteen dragged on, it was quite possible! So when the Demon offered him a chance to survive, he jumped at it. Two minutes was always better than nothing. Fifteen swallowed his first impulse, which was to sit on the floor to cry and thought while pretending to negotiate with Bendy. He had to surprised him. Show ingenuity. Not easy, for beings made of ink, black magic, despair and small habits. But Fifteen was not a fool. And above all, he was friends with John. John who always came home from Sammy with a blissful smile. He didn't believe for a second that the abomination in front of him was a god. No, he was a poor monster like all of them, but a monster with fangs and claws and a filthy appetite. Yes, but with one or two weaknesses ...

- Just a minute and twenty seconds, my pretty little snack, Bendy creaked with a smirk.

Fifteen flinched. And rushed forward. They weren't that far from his goal. And at that point in the cycle, Fifteen was pretty sure he knew where to find him. He was running as fast as he could. If the Demon was playing fair, he would keep that big, crooked devil form with a damaged leg, which would give him a chance to outrun him. But Bendy was hungry ... Fifteen forced himself not to think about what would happen to him if the Demon took on his bestial form. He bumped into walls as he turned in the hallways, jumped over the black puddles that splashed under the pounding of his feet, hurt his hands as he pushed the doors back ... But he didn't think about it. While fleeing, he tried to mobilize whatever persuasion he had left. He couldn't tell how long he had been running, or even if Bendy was already chasing him. And he wasn't going to stop to listen. Sammy's slogans were displayed on the walls, confirming that he was on the right track. The path they all avoided carefully, usually.

And he found him. Well, "found"... As he opened the door to the radio room, he crashed into Sammy and knocked him down on the floor, swept away by his speed and relief. Before the ex-musician could open his mouth to insult him (and surely promise him some very painful punishment), Fifteen took a deep breath, got up on his hands to look him in the eyes - actually in the mask - and bawled with conviction:

- I WANT TO CONVERT!

Sammy was speechless. It was the first time that one of these ... Useless things had come to him on purpose.

- This is ... Is it true? I mean ... Of course.

Fifteen nodded frantically, persuaded to hear the Demon already coming.

- Uh ... well, let u's talk to you about our Lord first, and ...

- NO! No. Erm, excuse me. Too much faith. Please, dear prophet, could you baptize me right now? I NEED it, you understand? It can't wait!

Fifteen could see the stars shining in Sammy's cardboard eyes. This ability he had to animate his mask had always scared him. But if this freak managed to save his life, he swore to ... To ... To avoid making fun of him too often with his friends. There. He owed him that.

He pushed himself up and jumped to his legs, then reached out and picked Sammy up. He then pushed him as respectfully as possible into the radio room and closed the door. It was paltry protection against Bendy, but maybe it'll give him a few more seconds?  It was worth trying.

Sammy stood in the middle of the room, with dangling arms. He seemed completely overwhelmed bythe turn of the events. Fifteen, in a hurry to save himself, threw himself on his knees in front of him. He then lowered his head and clasped his hands, like he had sometimes caught John doing. Sammy seemed to come out of his delighted amazement. He playfully ran to the back of the room, rummaged in a shelf, and came back to him with a step that  Fifteen considered happy, even from the depths of his fear. He then planted candles in a circle around Fifteen, lit them with a dexterity born of habit (and boredom too). Curious, Fifteen raised his head a little. Sammy wore a clean mask, which a smile bigger than the one of the little devil himself. He had set up a large cardboard representation of Bendy behind him and he was standing in front of Fifteen , his arms raised and a small cup in his right hand.

- My dear ... Sammy began in a powerful voice.

He suddenly lowered his head towards his future follower, who was quivering with impatience and terror.

- What's your name ?

"Fifteen, dear prophet,"  Fifteen replied, emphasizing the last words. He could have sworn that Sammy straightened up, repeating incredulously "Dear Prophet."

- My dear Fifteen, I have the pleasure of welcoming you among the disciples of our Lord Bendy. You've come a long way to get here ...

"But very quickly, believe me!" Fifteen thought sourly.

- ... and we reassure you. You made the right choice. A life full of joy and duty awaits you! You are going to us ...

Fifteen wasn't really listening. He kept a ear open, rolling his eyes internally, annoyed by Sammy's bombast. The ex-musician finally endeds up being silent, perhaps running out of inspiration. He raised his cup to the ceiling. Then he poured it on Fifteen's head. It was cold and oddly thick. And it smelled ...

"... bacon? Is he really baptizing me with soup?"

- You are now part of our community. There are still three of us!

And Fifteen finally heard it. The thud of heavy clawed hands on the floor. He tried to stay calm. He still had a handful seconds left, so he had to try his best. - Let us pray! he exclaimed loudly. He hoped Sammy would take the tension in his voice for a new and vibrant faith.

Sammy looked so delighted with his spontaneous proposal that Fifteen started to feel a bit guilty.  The feeling quickly disappeared when he remembered that his "dear prophet" had previously condemned him to a terrible death. Shivering, he joined his voice to Sammy's, intoning with him a prayer that he found  ridiculous, even though he had forgotten what they were supposed to sound like. He lowered his head, kneeling with his back to the door, with the weirdo reciting happily beside him when the door was torn off its hinges. He didn't move, praying harder, as Sammy turned his head.

- My Lord! What a happy surprise! I have great news: you have more and more believers!

Out of the corner of his eye, Fifteen distinctly saw the Big Bad Ink Demon flinch and step back at the warmth of the masked fanatic's welcome. He only stuck his big horned head through the doorway.

- I forgot you were there, Sally.

- ... Sammy, my Lord.

- Yes, that's what I said, Bendy replied in his deep, husky  voice. Wait ... what are you telling me? What believers?

- New stray lambs opened their eyes and came to worship you! That's wonderful! We will be able to honor you as it should be. Three believers! Imagine how many altars we can build!

- W ... What?

- You will finally be satisfied! Besides, your presence here is proof. I never have the honor to see you at this point in the Cycle. Usually I have to look for you for a long time, or even hide to see you. But you came on your own. You must have felt the power of our love. So the more you will give us the joy of being with us, the stronger our faith will be! 

Fifteen continued to pray absent-mindedly, saying whatever came to his mind that sounded a little religious, but not missing out a crumb of what was happening near to him:

- And we thank You, ô Black Ink, for all these wonderful cartoons You have made. For the strength of their film, which allows us to continue to admire You ... As well as for, uh ... the furniture ... No ... For the bacon soup. Yes, that on the other hand, it is really a miracle that we still find some!

He saw Bendy give him a longing glance, before quickly returning his attention to Sammy, who was beaming with happiness, and  slowly walking towards him with arms wide open. The Ink Demon looked as though he was afraid of what he was planning to do and stepped back again like a big and nervous cat.

- You don't have to, really ... grumbled Bendy.

Sammy was still approaching, looking terribly affectionate, and the Demon whirled around and rushed off down the hall. The prophet slowly lowered his arms, disappointment written on his cardboard mask. Then he turned to Fifteen , who had taken the opportunity to get up and who could not contain his smile. He was alive! He had escaped Bendy! It was a wonderful, a magnificent cyc ...

- Good! Obviously, our Lord, overwhelmed with joy, had to leave. We must now prove ourselves worthy of his trust! I'll teach you the slogans we'll paint on the walls, and show you how to make altars. But I think we are also going to have to innovate. There are more of us, so we have to do new things. We're not going to leave each other now, Fifteen. There is so much to do !

Fifteen felt his happiness of survival die out at the prospect of having to spend all subsequent cycles doing silly and unnecessary things, trapped by a fanatic far too enthusiastic about his faith. Who talked a lot. And who was way too dangerously good with an axe for Fifteen to run away too.

Maybe being eaten by Bendy would't have been so bad after all.

At least it would have been quick.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

[hopetofantasy]

‘Wandering Romance’

- A future with child fic -

Square Filled: Future, Family, Past lovers Ship: Sander Driesen/Robbe Ijzermans   Trigger Warnings (if applicable): none applied. Created for @skamevents Summary: "A perfect, tight little family. But happy. Until one unfortunate day in May, in the year that David turned six." In the future, Robbe and Sander have a son named David. The only tie they have left with each other, actually. Because our lovers split up years ago, due to mistakes that were made in the past. So is their love strong enough to sustain a healthy friendship? Will they find their way to each other again or break all connections for good? Also available on AO3

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CHAPTER 1: 'No one knows the pain'

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“David! Your dad’s here!”

Loud thundering on the stairs, caused by tiny child’s feet, followed by a high pitched exhale directed towards the man in the door. The later one immediately wrapped his arms around his hyperactive boy. Sighing deeply. The emotion on his face revealed unconditional love, as well as a vague sadness. Hurt. Hurt for the other man standing on the opposite side.

“Papa, I missed you! OMG, did you color your hair again? I don’t see any brown anymore, I love the brown, papa, why did you change it? Oh and I -”

“David, let your father have some room to breathe, please. Go put on some shoes and bring your jacket, it’s cold out.”

The 9 year old turned towards the other part of the parental couple. The deep brown in his eyes filled with such an invigorating energy. The color was something he inherited from Robbe. The lack of stopping the chaos in his head? That was such a Sander move. David truly was a piece of both. Even though, he wasn’t truly born out of either of them, he simply belonged here.

“But, paps, I don’t want to wear my own jacket!”

“What are you going to wear then?”

“Papa’s leather jacket!” he exclaimed, like it just was as easy as one plus one. The long blonde curls bouncing off his head, while he pulled at the arm of Sander’s coat. The beach blonde couldn’t help, but laugh fondly at his son’s statement. He really loved the boy like nobody else. Well, there may be a time, where he loved someone just as much.

Gosh, Robbe, don’t think about that.

“It’s okay, Robbe,” Sander directed the flashy smile towards him, knowing all too well he couldn’t say no to the both of them if they banded together. “We’re just going to the movies anyways. The new cartoon movie is perfect for our tiny artist. Isn’t it?” A excited squeal filled the cold air between them. Apparently, he had touched David on a ticklish spot, trying to make him giggle.

Robbe couldn’t help, but feel the sting. The picture before his eyes made his heartache complete. Sander laughing along with their beautiful son, the beach blonde complementing the blond, energy matching tones, he even saw how David was starting to copy Sander’s mannerisms more and more. Reminding him, every day, of the mistake he once made.

The follow-up question made the atmosphere even more loaded. “How’s Wouter? I didn’t see his car in the driveway? I thought he wasn’t working today?”, was asked. Ah, there it was. Another cut in his heart. Exactly the question he was trying to avoid. Another crossed line through his life. Something he didn’t intended to share with his ex. Not completely, at least.

“He hasn’t been around much, lately.”, he simply stated. Knowing that Sander would probably connect the dots later, he’d rather not discuss this in front of their son. It was difficult enough to maintain relationships in these situations. Especially when you were still friends with the other dad. They needed to be. Their son didn’t ask for this, he deserved to have a strong, loving family.

Something they’d made clear from the day they signed the divorce documents.

It only took a half an hour to get David ready, which was a record in Robbe’s book. After searching the entire room for his son’s shoes and the kitchen cabinets for his backpack (don’t ask, it’ll be easier if you. just. didn’t. ask), he was finally able to hand over the week-bag, the dreaded jacket and wave them goodbye. A huge piercing smile on their little one’s face. And...

A loaded glance.

An electrified touch.

A last cheek kiss.

Before he slumped down against the back of the door.

-^-

It didn’t start out this way, you know. They were happy before. Before all the things that led up to this moment.

Wait, I’m jumping ahead.

Let me tell you a story. The story of a beautiful love shared between two boys. Boys who loved like they never loved before. They found each other, they lost each other and found each other again. Push and pull. To say that their love was a rollercoaster? That’s an understatement. It made them only stronger in the future.

Until, it didn’t.

In the week of Robbe’s 20th birthday, they decided to move into their own apartment. It was a tiny studio at the edge of the city centre. Just enough for the both of them. Their living room was filled by their bed, tossed clothes and a ratty couch, the kitchen was tiny enough to only fit a midget size refrigerator, a second-hand stove and one kitchen counter. That they didn’t use anyways. Except... for... stuff. You know.

But it was perfect.

The best time of their lives.

When Robbe came home every day after class - his last year of IT & Webdesign - he could wrap his arms around his lover, who smelled of paint, citrus and himself. Kissing Sander was like being born again. Giving him goosebumps each time. No other feeling was as fierce. This bliss, this happiness. Making love to him, was heaven on earth. Nothing could compare. Nothing ever did.

Sander was struggling to get by on an artist paycheck. He only sold one of his pieces to art collectors every other month. His talents weren’t always appreciated like they should’ve been. But he kept trying. Through his highs as well as his lows, he never gave up his two passions: his art and David Bowie. He once even made an entire collection of Bowie portraits.

Which would later caught the eye of a notorious gallery owner, asking him to join the alternative artist collective he was setting up. Filled with musicians, writers, painters. Sander’s people. But that would take at least a couple of more years of struggling. Of cheap dinners and scraping by on one paycheck. Until the year of David’s sixth birthday.

When Robbe made the mistake.

To say that their lives was perfect, was an huge overstatement though. Sander’s medication wasn’t always working like it needed to be, living together wasn’t quite the same as staying with their parents and Robbe’s studies took a lot out of him. And then came the day that Jens knocked on their door. With a statement that chilled their bones to the core.

“Noor’s dead.”

Shock.

Denial.

Sadness.

Such a beautiful soul that was lost. Never roaming the earth again. Never again her special artistic cooking, the scoffing if someone said something she considered dumb. Late night jamming sessions, wine spills on new couches, burning protests at parliaments, all saying ‘f-u society, I’m not your bitch’? All gone. The light that made all of their laughs a little brighter, was no more.

And their lives would never again be the same.

These emotions followed rapidly by anger. Because apparently, it was a drunk driver that had hit her car on the way home. On the way home to her family. A tight little group that’d only consisted of a proud surrogate uncle/roommate Jens and a small child, barely a year old. The latter one was a small detail that she’d left out of her stories of backpacking in the US of A. Something that Jens didn’t mention during the wild parties, set up by Moyo in his underground club.

The small child was already fatherless, but now he didn’t have a mom either. He had nobody to care for him. Jens had put every single cent into his new start-up in New York and was in the process of moving there. Trying to set up a different life. Possibly meeting up with Jana again. Before all of this had happened, of course. Because who could’ve know?

So the boys didn’t have any other choice.

From the moment both had seen the little, bubbly baby in his basket, crying out for his mom, they’d knew. The boy had nestled in their hearts. The sorrow was a little less harsh, when you could look into the eyes of someone so pure. Noor’s son needed them. It was what Robbe owed her. For her unconditional love. After all, she had been his voice of reason, his shoulder to cry on - even through international phone calls - when it all was too much. The harshness of life.

The Sobbe relationship rollercoaster.

So arrangements were made. A graduate job secured. A family-backed loan for a small house was asked. And the adoption process had started. It only took them a year, due to Aaron’s social work contacts, before they could call David theirs. David Ijzermans-Driesen. The only one that could call them ‘papa’ and ‘paps’. The most precious boy in the entire universe. And any other universe, for that matter. In every parallel one.

A perfect, tight little family. But happy.

Until one unfortunate day in May, in the year that David turned six.

-^-

“Schat, don’t be so nervous. It’s me who’s supposed to be nervous, right?”

Sander eyes twinkled with mischief. He was dragging Robbe along to the dress rehearsal for their ‘happening’. Yes, a happening. Like the ones in the times of hippie communes. Those kind of artsy fartsy things. The brown haired boy didn’t know what it had meant entirely, but whatever Sander was into, he couldn’t help but show it to his partner.

To be completely honest, their relationship was strained these last few months. Robbe was more tired than anything else. Their son had started his first year of primary school, so this meant that evenings were filled with encouraging to practice reading and writing, guiding through homework and all the while trying to understand the problems that had manifested into his web code. His plate was filled with more work than ever before.

He wouldn’t really blame Sander, though, since this was the first time he finally caught a break in the artistic world. Yet, unconsciously, he had counted the days that they didn’t touch each other. And they were a lot. At least, for a couple that’d got married only a year ago. They were supposed to be in their blissful period of marriage, filled with the constant desire to touch each other at any time at any place.

And that wasn’t the case.

So when he caught sight of a certain man, someone who wasn’t his husband, his heart had skipped a slight beat. His hands were starting to get clammy, his voice caught in his throat and he didn’t know how to breath anymore. Robbe didn’t remember the last time this had happened with Sander. So, his immediate next thought, was shame and disgust.

For what he felt right now.

Yet, he couldn’t seem to look away. All during the dress rehearsal, his eyes were following the beautiful man who played along with his guitar in the background. His eyes were stars of stark blue, covered by a mop of light curls. The combination of these, together with a timid, yet mysterious air around him, immediately reeled him in. Worst part? He seemed to know Robbe was staring at him. Before he exited the area, he even turned back to wink at him.

Sander, of course, didn’t caught his boy’s entire thought process that followed. He was still going on about the dynamics of the entire art installation. Even introducing his other half to a few new friends he’d made. A Spanish girl with colorful hair, a German boy with a too-cool-for-you gaze and pair of Italian guys with soft smiles. Their energy all flowed through one another, like single organism. Like they were all part of something better.

Robbe could understand why Sander was attracted to these kind of people. He however, still wanted the ask the question that lingered in the back of his mind. Who had been the beautiful model that gave him a wink? Was he still here? Did  he expect something of him? He couldn’t do anything to someone else than Sander. Right? Right. It was wrong, with the capital W. So he let it be.

At least, that what’s he thought.

All through the happenings, the same feelings manifested. His eyes pulled towards the mysterious guy, instead of what his own husband was doing. While he heard the gasps of the audience around him, he gasped at the intense stare. While the people were urging closer to see what was happening, he’d fill his mind with thoughts about what he would do with the man before him.

Laying him down on the floor.

Touching him.

Kissing him.

Making his way with him.

Sander seemed to know Robbe wasn’t really raving about the entire art thing, so he never asked why his eyes glanced over every time he brought up the performances. He seemed to wait patiently for his lover to talk about his thoughts. What seemed to bother him. But, that was the thing: he didn’t. Robbe didn’t say a word. He just... stared. Longingly.

At someone else.

On the fourth week of mutual silence, Sander spiraled. His words were reeling with pain, with agony. They still didn’t know what caused an bipolar episode. They both wished they did, though, this time even more. Because it was a really, really bad one. Never before had Sander called him names. Never before did he make Robbe cry with desperation. He didn’t even let him touch him. Sander had said about himself, that he was a waste of space, so why would Robbe even bother about loving him? Why would their son ever love him? He was broken.

And Robbe let his tears fall.

He blamed himself. Because of the thoughts he had about the unknown man. He deserved this. A loveless touch, a hollow kiss, a silenced dagger thrown at his heart. He had felt something for someone else, he deserved so much worse. This was just tip of the ice-berg. It’s what he manifested. What he cooked up in his own thoughts, that made Sander hate him. Robbe knew it was all his fault.

His rational mind knew that these feelings were ridiculous though. Sander wasn’t his MI. His lover always saw the best in him, it was just the chemicals in his brain that sometimes fought with each other. And that, was maybe even worse. Knowing that Sander would always love him, no matter what, even when his episode was at his lowest, while Robbe was looking at someone else?

It broke him.

His fault.

Toxic.

For feeling the wrong things towards the wrong guy.

Sander saw it happening. After the episode, when he climbed out of the canyon of hurt, he still tried to pull his lover out of his own spiral. He touched his cluttered mind, wanted to break through the newly built walls and screamed out in frustration to shock him. But Robbe slowly became more silent. He reverted back to his older self, his younger, less pronounced ‘me’. The one who was insecure about every step he took. About every thing he did. About their love.

And that’s when he broke them.

Fights were more the norm in their household than lovemaking. David kept running towards either of them asking if they were angry at each other. To stop crying. To stop shouting. To stop hurting each other. He wanted papa and paps to be happy again. He wanted to kiss all the boo-boos away, making their hearts hurt even more.

So, after a bunch of whispered discussions, a few stints at a crappy couples counselor - some smuck that didn’t even remember their names - and a few months of loaded silence, they knew. This wasn’t healthy anymore. Sander gave and gave and gave, while Robbe ran. He ran away from the love. They knew it had to stop. It was healthier this way. To catch a break. To breathe.

A breath that was stolen only one time more. Their lips connected, the tears flowed, their bodies felt the hurt between them, even though they were making love. For the last time. Pieces of heart exchanged, never truly whole again. Grasping at the air surrounding them. Emerald eyes lingering into brown. The touch of heaven. Never again. All over. Discarded. 

Making the biggest mistake in both their lives:

They split up.

-^-

“Don’t forget, Robbe”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious”

“I know.”

“David won’t stop babbling on about this.”

“Yes, Sander, he’s my son too. I know this already!”

“...”

“Sorry...”

“... It’s okay.”

Robbe sighed, fidgeting with the cellphone in his hand. A headache was starting to build up behind his eyes. Why did Sander call him again? Like he didn’t know about the biggest event of the school year approaching? The school’s annual show was on Saterday, open to every parent interested in sending their kids to the school as well as the parents of attending children.

“He just wants us to be there. Maybe we could invite the rest of the boys?”

“I’ll ask them. I don’t know if Jens will get a babysitter on such short notice, though. Jana is pretty busy with her job as a lawyer, you know that.”

“Come on, try to convince them to come. Maybe Amber can babysit the kids. It’s been a while since David has seen his uncles!”

Robbe thought long and hard about this statement. It had been a while since he saw his best friends. Nowadays, their lives were filled with juggling their family lives, responsibilities at work while maintaining a healthy lifestyle with their respective partners. Not that he didn’t know how difficult it could be sometimes.

Only recently, he’d acquired the new lecturing job at the IT departement, making way more pay and significantly better hours, so he could focus his time on David. Robbe really liked this job though. Educating other young people in the world of digits and numbers, something that always made sense even if your life was insecure. Exactly why he studied IT in the first place.

“Robbe, are you there?”, Sander voice whispered soothingly. Like only an ex-lover could feel, he somehow knew every thought that passed through Robbe’s brain. “You know, you don’t have to invite them if you don’t want to. I’m sure we’ll be fine just the three of us. David will be proud to show us his performance nonetheless. He’s been raving about his Bowie song, since they made the announcement.”

“The three of us?”

“Yeah, you, me and Wouter right?”

“Ah. Yes.”

“You know, your boyfriend?”, the voice chuckled.

Since a month ago, Robbe’s free weeks were filled with unhealthy habits again. Pigging out on junk food, vegetating on the couch, binging Netflix shows. Only, his friends or Sander didn’t need to know about this. David barely met his ex-boyfriend, thank god. They didn’t need to know about the nasty fights that happened between him and Wouter.

About the black eyes, cuts and bruises.

The disgusting words.

The break-up...

But yeah,

Robbe deserved all of it anyways.

“Robbe...”, he heard the other whisper.

“You do know I don’t have a problem with him, right? I mean, it’s been ages since the two of us were ever together. You deserve a healthy love-life. Someone to call yours. Someone who loves you. You deserve someone who gives you the world. I don’t like you being alone. I want to see you happy...”

He didn’t knew why Sander said stuff like that to him. He didn’t deserve it, because all he brought upon his lovers was worry and anger. Everything he touched, would slowly turn more and more toxic. During their teenage years, Sander had said something similar to him. Right after an episode. And he didn’t believe it. He never will. Since it was him that made everything worse.

Not Sander. Not Wouter. Not any of his other previous flings.

Him.

“You know what I think about that, Sander.”

“Robbe...”

“I’ll ask the boys, okay?”

“But Robbe, I-”

“Give David a kiss for me!”

He quickly disconnected the line.

Before Sander could say something back.

He simply didn’t want to know.

Focussing his thoughts on anything else, pulling out a vague sketch their son had made. Apparently the drawing class was paying off. He’d made the outline of a tree, standing lonely in a grove. The environment around it was completely bare. No grass. Yet, at the outlines you could still see the branches of other trees. Something felt off.

Robbe shook his head. He was probably projecting his own feelings onto the drawing. It was just a grove of trees, for god’s sake. An amazing technique. Some intense colors. That truly made the sketch vibrate. Their tiny boy was filled with lots of surprises. You see, both parents still didn’t know what song he’d picked to sing for them Saturday. “Something special”, David said with a glint in his eyes, before packing his bag for his stay at Sander’s.

The co-parenting system was a bitch as well as a blessing. He’d love to see his boy more than every other week, but some ‘me-time’ wasn’t bad either. Having this free time for himself was a privilege. Time to sort out stuff in the house, work ahead for the school year or take relaxing baths. Maybe go to a bar and hook up with someone, without having a hyperactive kid bursting in.

Not that he felt up for that right now.

But he truly was happy with the 9 year old. Every moment with him was an extra day of unconditional love. A love that was consistent. A gift that kept on giving. A reflection of a beautiful soul lost. But also a mirror for Sander and him.

He was happy.

Or at least, he thought he was.

(But he wasn’t)

[detroit-become-dumpster]

class 4 errors

He cursed himself under his breath. Probably this was just some ridiculous fancy social-programming-algorithm-whatchamacallit-thing, just a code designed to manipulate humans into giving Connor (and by extension, Cyberlife) whatever he wanted. Probably it wasn’t real at all. But fuck if Hank wasn’t falling for it anyway. 

(Or, Connor deviates after the revolution. Hank has a hangover. This seems like a great time to reconcile.)

***

The good news was, Connor had failed. 

At least, that’s what it sounded like to Hank--he was pretty sure he’d heard that Markus’ demonstration was successful, and that the president had ordered the withdrawal of the troops, and that Big Official Talks™ would be starting up soon about establishing androids as living beings in their own right. But quite frankly, Hank had drowned so much of the evening in whiskey that he very well could have imagined all of it. He certainly wasn’t paying attention to the nervous chatter filling the bar, definitely wasn’t listening to the radio playing in the taxi, absolutely didn’t switch on his own TV first thing after stumbling into his house and digging up another bottle later that night. (Or maybe it was early the next morning. Hard to tell through the haze. The numbers on the clock wouldn’t stop swimming.) At any rate, if Markus had succeeded, then that could only mean that Connor had not. And that was a good thing, wasn’t it?

(I'll be deactivated, Connor had said, and analyzed to find out why I failed. And he’d looked--shit, he’d looked just like a star pupil who was startled to find a B on his report card instead of an A. He’d just looked like a disappointed kid.

Or a scared kid, maybe.

Fuck. Hank really should have followed him from the roof.)

Grimacing, Hank scrubbed his hand over his face, clenching sandpaper-rough eyes against the late morning sun that threatened to peek at him from behind the blinds. It was too early to be thinking about all of this. It was too early to be thinking, period. Yet despite all his attempts to smother everything, here he was, sprawled on the armchair where he’d passed out, thinking. Stray memories and half-made connections and intrusive nonsense stuck in his brain like a needle in the groove of an old worn record, his thoughts uselessly tripping on the same damn notes over and over again until he could go crazy from it all, the what ifs and the maybes and the if onlys screaming for attention over the click of a loaded barrel and the screech of tires on an icy road and drone-televised footage of massive junkyards, no, graveyards, piled sky-high with the bones of the plastic dead, all of it braiding together inextricably with the beep of a hospital monitor and that too-sweet funeral-parlor-flowers smell and the dull thud of dirt on a coffin and—

(But he hadn’t seen any familiar faces in any of the footage, neither amongst the living nor the dead—was that a good sign, or a very, very bad one?

Hank really, really should have followed him from the roof. Just to make sure.)

Pain hammered in his head along with all of the unwanted thoughts, pushing out waves of nausea with every sluggish pulse. He should just go back to sleep. It might not solve any of the problems hammering away in his brain but at least maybe he could snooze through the worst of what promised to be another nasty hangover. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be, after all. Definitely didn’t have anything better to do.

(The old pistol hiding in his bedside drawer might have argued otherwise, but in order to find out for sure, Hank would have to go get it, which would require him to get up, which would require moving, which would require effort, and basically, fuck that. The pistol and its sole lonely bullet would still be there whenever he decided to move again. Assuming he did decide to move. Maybe he would be lucky and the couch would magically swallow him whole somehow. Or something. Fuck.)

Hank had just settled perfectly into his well-worn sweet spot in the armchair when the doorbell buzzed. He huffed irritatedly. Probably it was girl scouts or church folks or political canvassers or something; he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He ignored it.

A few moments passed in blissful liquid silence. Then the doorbell buzzed again.

Nose wrinkled in aggravation, Hank threw his arm over his eyes, answering the doorbell with stubborn silence. After a couple more seconds, the doorbell buzzed again, insistently this time.

Hank scowled. “Go away!” he half-yelled, half-slurred, but all that netted him was another goddamn buzz of the doorbell, and fuck, had that noise always vibrated his teeth like this? “Fuck off!” he shouted. 

The doorbell buzzed again, one long, unbroken, god-awful shrieking screech so piercing and shrill Hank was almost tempted to retrieve his pistol just to make the fucking noise stop.

“Jesus Christ,” he snapped, heaving himself off the chair and stomping toward the front door with tightly-balled fists. “Can’t you take a goddamn hint? Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.” Whiskey-numbed fingers fumbled with the lock before Hank managed to wrestle it open, throwing the door wide so he could give this asshole a piece of his mind. “So why don’t you just--”

He stopped. He saw. He stared.

Connor stood in front of him.

Squinting against the too-bright daylight, feeling the cold from very far away, Hank wondered, briefly, if he could be hallucinating, if maybe those old Disney cartoons were actually onto something whenever their characters stumbled into a bucket of alcohol and saw nothing but pink elephants for hours afterward. That would make more sense than this. It would certainly make more sense than the unwanted feelings welling up at the sight of Connor, the distrust choking his throat and the anger hot in his gut and the guilt tightening his chest and what the hell was all that about? Shouldn’t he be relieved to see this stupid plastic prick standing here, alive and apparently well? Shouldn’t he be happy?

“--fuck off,” he finished with a snarl.

For a split-second he could have sworn he saw a flash of red at Connor’s temple. With a hesitant step forward, Connor opened his mouth, but he must have swallowed whatever he was going to say, because the next thing Hank knew, Connor was stepping back again, nodding. “I understand, Lieutenant,” he said. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

Looking for all the world like a puppy that just got kicked, Connor turned to leave. Guilt rose along with Hank’s blood pressure, thundering in his ears. He cursed himself under his breath. Probably this was just some ridiculous fancy social-programming-algorithm-whatchamacallit-thing, just a code designed to manipulate humans into giving Connor (and by extension, Cyberlife) whatever he wanted. Probably it wasn’t real at all. But fuck if Hank wasn’t falling for it anyway.

“So what--that’s it?” he snapped. “You’re just gonna leave? What’d you even bother coming here for?”

Half-turned away, Connor didn’t meet his eyes when he replied--that was a first, Hank realized with a start. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he replied quietly.

“Never been better,” Hank bit back, even as he internally kicked himself.

Once again, Connor opened his mouth to speak, like he might argue, but he didn’t. He just made his way off the porch, and if he didn’t know any better, Hank might have thought his shoulders were slumped, his posture resigned, and was he shivering? That just pissed Hank off even more.

“Why d’you ask?” he called after Connor. “That part of your mission, now?”

Connor froze. “I don’t have a mission anymore, Lieutenant.”

“Good,” replied Hank with as much nastiness as he could muster. Connor turned back to look at him, and if Hank thought he spotted confusion flashing across his face, or maybe hurt. Which was a stupid thing for Hank to think, because Connor clearly didn’t feel anything, because if he did, Hank wouldn’t have caught him on that roof last night, ready to assassinate someone that was just asking, peacefully, for the same basic rights that all sentient beings deserve.

(Except Connor didn’t do it, did he? Hank asked him to stop, and he did. And now here Connor was. Checking on him. Trying to connect with him.

Well, fuck.)

“Because...y’know,” Hank continued grudgingly, despite himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your previous mission seemed pretty hellbent on the whole death-and-destruction angle, and all.”

“Yes,” said Connor, softly. “I didn’t see it that way at the time, but—”

“But what? You had some sort of robo-epiphany or something?”

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” echoed Hank, scoffing.

Connor grew very, very quiet. “I really believed I was doing the right thing, until I realized I wasn’t. It was...difficult, coming to terms with that, but it’s the truth.” His mouth twisted in discomfort. “I just wish I’d figured it out sooner.”

He smiled at Hank, a slight thing that didn’t quite reach his eyes--not like one of those unsettling false android smiles, though, all polygonal lines and uncanny-valley-creepiness. No. It was wholly human, and entirely sad.

And there it was again, flooding through Hank like so much radioactive bullshit. Guilt. A metric fuckton of it.

“I wanted to tell you that you were right, and I’m sorry,” Connor told him. “And I wanted to make sure you weren’t--that you didn’t--”

His eyes flickered back toward the house, past the open door, and Hank wondered if he was imagining a body sprawled on the floor, an empty liquor bottle and a decidedly not-empty pistol dropped next to it. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of what he probably looked like right now, the bloodshot eyes, the rat’s-nest hair, the alcohol fumes practically exuding from him in little squiggly cartoon waves. And here was the world’s fanciest murderbot, standing on his porch, shivering in the winter cold, checking in with Hank, talking to him as if his feelings mattered, as if Hank was worth any kind of a damn anymore. Didn’t make sense. But then, Hank supposed, feelings often don’t.

He sighed. Fuck, but he was tired. “Look, Connor--”

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor blurted out, shaking his head. “I don’t--I don’t know what else to say. I’m not really even sure why I came here. I just felt like I should.” He approached, steps tentative, hands rubbing up and down his arms, like he was trying to stay warm. “I mean, I really did want to make sure you were okay. And it felt like I should apologize--and I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, not from you or anyone else, so I’m not asking for that, but, the thing is, I realized I was on the wrong side, and--I don’t know, I guess I thought I should tell you that I know that now, and I wanted to say thank you, for being patient--well, relatively speaking--well, thank you for being there, anyway, and for stopping me up on the roof, and--”

Hank raised a bemused eyebrow as Connor continued to stammer his way through whatever-the-hell-this-was. He couldn’t imagine Connor ever word-vomiting like this, before. If it really was just some fancy social protocol somehow, it was pretty damn convincing. Or maybe--just maybe--it turned out the kid had deviated after all.

At any rate it loosened something in Hank’s chest, just a little bit. It felt weirdly like relief.

His glance drawn to movement over Connor’s shoulder--just Ms. Ghibbett across the street, squeezing her needle-nose and blinking owl’s-eyes through her living-room-drapes, as if no one could spot her spying--Hank huffed impatiently. It wasn’t as if he particularly cared that the nosy old bat was watching them, but he wasn’t in the mood to give her a show, either. That was absolutely the only reason it occurred to Hank that maybe they should take this indoors; it had nothing to do with the wind biting through his old DPD sweatshirt, or Connor’s increasingly violent shivering.

Hank heaved a heavy sigh. He was getting soft in his old age. Downright sentimental.

“C’mon,” he said, cutting off Connor mid-babble as he grabbed him by the arm, pulling him through the door. “We can do this inside.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Connor replied through chattering teeth, but he didn’t resist.

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Hank grumbled. “Besides, it’s cold as balls out here. You’re not gonna let an old man freeze to death, are you?”

“Death by exposure at 39.3 degrees Fahrenheit takes significantly longer than five minutes, Lieutenant. And 53 years is hardly considered elderly, although a midlife crisis isn’t out of the question.”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll let you freeze after all,” said Hank, rolling his eyes as he shut the door behind them.

 ***

 “This isn’t necessary,” Connor insisted, but the sentiment was weak at best; it wasn’t like he had done anything to move from his spot on the couch, after all, nor had he done anything to shrug off the old afghan Hank had tossed over his shoulders, and he certainly hadn’t done anything to discourage a certain St. Bernard from settling in next to him, begging for attention. “I don’t require any external heat sources. I can just temporarily deactivate my temperature sensors.”

Busy with the coffee pot, Hank watched Connor out of the corner of his eye as he idly pet Sumo, his gaze loose and unfocused, distant. When Sumo laid his head in Connor’s lap, though, his focus immediately shifted; glancing down, he reached with both hands to scratch the dog behind the ears, smiling fondly. It was probably the happiest expression Hank had seen on him yet.

He could still feel it, his anger from before, simmering and potent beneath the surface. But something about seeing Connor like this--ah, shit. As much as Hank hated to admit it, it rattled the bones of his deep-buried old paternal instincts, sentiments he’d believed to be long dead. He couldn’t say exhuming such a thing was all that comfortable. At the same time, it was almost a comfort to learn that those instincts weren’t completely dead, after all.

“So why haven’t you, yet?” Hank asked, voice gruff. “Turned off the sensors, I mean.”

The smile vanished like it was never there. “It’s not important.”

“Sure. You know punishing yourself isn’t gonna solve anything, right?”

Connor snapped to attention, staring at him. Leaning against the kitchen counter, hands wrapped around his hot coffee mug, Hank shrugged, ignoring the twinge of nausea that spiked through him. God, he felt like shit. “Take it from someone who knows firsthand,” he said wryly.

Whining at the sudden loss of attention, Sumo snuffled at Connor’s hands. Connor halfheartedly scratched the top of his head, the motion slow, now, reluctant. “You don’t need to worry about me, Lieutenant.”

“Eh, I ain’t worried,” Hank lied. “Just know what it’s like, is all.”

“You shouldn’t be kind to me, either.”

“Think that’s the first time anyone’s ever accused me of being too nice,” Hank chuckled. “Sorry, I guess?”

“And you shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologizing to you.”

Uncomfortable, Hank rubbed at the back of his neck. “You already did that.”

“It’s not enough,” Connor insisted, shaking his head. “I was cruel to you, Hank. I tried to use your son against you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Hank replied flatly. “I was there.”

Connor stared down at his hands, frozen in Sumo’s fur. “I did so much harm,” he said, the words stilted, painful, like he was wrenching them out of himself. “I was a bad partner, I was a bad friend. I hunted my own kind. I hurt people. I hurt people when all they wanted was to be free.” His hands trembled and his LED swirled yellow and suddenly Hank thought of Cole, that time he got in trouble for getting into a scuffle with another preschooler; he remembered picking him up from school, how he told him off, how Cole shrank into himself afterward, flooded with a five-year-old’s deep and heavy sense of shame. The memory and the hurt were still so fresh that they ached. “They just wanted to be free, Hank. They just wanted to be treated like people. Who can argue with that? What kind of person tries to stop that? What kind of monster--?”

“Hey, hey, no need to get dramatic,” said Hank, frowning. “You weren’t a monster. You were just following your program, or your directive, or whatever. Right?”

“It doesn’t matter if I was a monster or a machine. That doesn’t change what I did, or how it affected people. It doesn’t make up for my mistakes and it doesn’t make anyone’s hurt go away.”

“Aw, c’mon, kid--”

“Hundreds of people are dead because of me,” Connor spat out. The light at his temple glowed red now. “Hundreds of my people, dead, because I was stupid enough to--I was just so stupid, Hank.”

“This about the Jericho raid?” Hank asked, eyes narrowed.

Connor fell silent.

“Did you tell anyone besides me that you were headed there?”

“No.”

“Did you tell anyone where it was?”

“No,” Connor repeated, sharply this time.

“All right. So it sounds to me like you went there alone, just looking for Markus, but Perkins and his crew, they tracked you, executed the raid on the freighter without your knowledge or input. Am I right?”

Wordlessly, eyes fixed on the carpet, Connor nodded.

With a grunt, Hank slouched his way over to the living room, easing into his armchair. “Cool. So tell me, you’re basically a hyper-intelligent living computer, right? Google on legs, or whatever?”

Connor blinked. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Just seems like you’d be smart enough to see that what happened to Jericho isn’t your fault, is all.”

The light at Connor’s temple stuttered yellow. “It is, though. I--”

“I don’t see how it could be. Not like Perkins asked your permission to follow you or use your intel.”

“But that’s just it. I should have known I was being followed,” Connor insisted. “The FBI never would have found Jericho, if it wasn’t for me.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they would’ve, and it just would’ve taken a few extra minutes. Humanity did manage to get some shit figured out before androids came along, believe it or not--”

“For goodness’ sake, Hank, would you please stop?” Connor half-shouted, his voice ringing out in the quiet house. “You shouldn’t be comforting me. You should be angry at me, you should hate me!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still plenty angry,” Hank replied calmly. “But, and I hate to break this to you, kid: you don’t get to decide who I hate.”

Connor shook his head. “No, no, your reaction outside was the proper one. You should have turned me away. You should have slammed the door in my face. But now you’re being kind and I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense--”

“Well, tough shit!” Hank snorted. “You don’t have to understand. All you gotta know is I ain’t interested in hearing you beat yourself up over something that wasn’t really your fault. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and trust me, it doesn’t help anyone.”

“The situations are hardly comparable, Lieutenant--”

“Fact is, you didn’t want the deviants dead,” Hank continued. “Throughout this whole thing, that was your deal. You said it over and over. I need them alive. Maybe that was just your program talking, so you could take ‘em back to Cyberlife and dissect ‘em, do your analysis, whatever. Or maybe there was some part of you that knew that killing the deviants was wrong, despite what all your algorithms said. Either way, I never saw you opt for violence except as a last resort, not until I found you on that rooftop. And even then,” he went on, as Connor tried to interrupt, “even then, the only reason you were there in the first place was because that’s what you’d been programmed to do. Hell, that’s what you were created for. Yeah? But you broke out of that, Connor. You broke your mold and decided what you wanted to do, who you wanted to be. You planned to harm Markus, sure, but then you ultimately decided not to. You made the decision to go from being a machine to being a person. Isn’t that right?”

“It’s not that simple--”

“Yes, it is,” Hank said, his voice sharp. “It really is that simple, son. Sometimes things are.”

Falling silent, Connor averted his gaze from Hank, watching Sumo instead as he drooled in his lap. His LED blinked yellow again, but he didn’t argue.

“So, yeah. To sum up, you weren’t really interested in hurting folks in the first place, that fucking prick Perkins followed you and acted without your consent, you decided not to hurt Markus despite your orders, and I think it’s safe to assume you’ll keep deciding not to hurt people,” Hank counted off. “I’m not saying you’re perfect, but all you can do is own up to the shit you did, let go of the shit you didn’t. And, y’know, where you can, you try and do what you can to make up for the shit you did do. Right?”

Connor hesitated.

“What?”

“It just seems too easy, to be honest.”

Hank chuckled. “Trust me. It’s anything but.”

Connor nodded. Silence stretched between them as he considered, staring down at his hands nestled in Sumo’s fur, his LED alternating between yellow and blue. Hank sipped at his now-cold coffee and winced. It tasted like jet fuel.

“All right,” Connor said, after a few moments.

“All right...?”

“All right,” Connor repeated, with a tone of finality. “I don’t know if I can trust myself on matters like these. But...I trust you, Lieutenant.”

That thought warmed Hank more than he wanted to admit. “Good,” he said, grinning. “That means you learned something. And next time, you’ll do better.”

“Yes, but…”

Hank arched an expectant eyebrow.

Connor swallowed. “How can I make up for it? How can I ever possibly make it up, to the people I hurt?”

“Hell if I know,” said Hank. “That’s the hard part. Probably you start out by apologizing, then asking them what you can do to help, finding out what they need, giving them space if they ask for it. And then you don’t do the bad thing anymore. I don’t know. That sounds like something healthy people do. All I know is, you drown yourself in regret and despair, you don’t help anybody. Not yourself, not anybody else. You got that?”

“Got it,” Connor replied, nodding.

Then, a few seconds later, hesitant, “...I’m sorry for what I said up on the rooftop, Hank. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Hank glanced over to see Connor looking up at him, a small smile crossing his face. (He thought of Cole again, grinning up him, hope for his father’s approval evident in his bright young eyes. Fuck, that hurt.)

“Well, for starters, you can fix my fucking window,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “And after that, you can cool your jets on the whole brooding-and-wallowing-in-guilt thing. Okay?”

Something loosened in Connor’s posture, and he relaxed a little, his smile deepening. “Okay.”

 ***

 The good news was, Connor did not fail to replace the window.

And the other good news, Hank thought as he watched Connor work, was that even if he did, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Inconvenient, sure. Pricey, probably. Drafty, definitely. But failing is something that humans do, something that people do, and more often than not, they’re permitted to pick themselves up off the ground, brush the dust from their jackets, and try again--or maybe they realize that they were trying the wrong thing all along, or maybe they can even try something new. That, Hank decided, was a chance that Connor deserved.

Maybe they both did.

[pinejayy]

Let's start a Riot..

Part 2!!!

Part 1: [X]

No one asked for a part so yeah, I just wanted to write some Venom smut.

Word count: +1.6k

Summary: After a week passed by with the whole Riot incident, you and Eddie/Venom have some sexy time.

Rating: R ( Dom Fem! Reader, oral sex both receiving it, biting, a bit of blood, teratophilia, monster x reader, smut and some smut )

Disclaimer: It's my first time writing Venom smut so it might suck but enjoy Venom fuckers :))

(Yes he's gonna eat you, if you know mean)

Two weeks have passed by with that whole Riot incident, and you felt awful how about yourself. You nearly killed Venom and Eddie, but that's in the past. The good thing that you and Eddie are working things out, he asked you to marry him and you couldn't be any happier.

Currently you and Eddie were at your place, he was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons. Making you smile, you were sitting next to him. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him, looking at him, his eyes were glued to the screen. You bite your lip and give him a small kiss on the lips, sitting on his lap. He quickly kissed back, he held you close.

"Hm what are you up to darling?" He said between the kiss.

You pull away kissing his cheek going lower to his jaw line. "Hmm nothing sweetheart" you said. Continuing to kiss him you slowly made your way down to his neck, placing small kisses.

Eddie groaned a bit, holding you closer. You started to roam your hand around his chest tugging on his shirt. You kissed him once again, licking his bottom lip asking for entrance but he denied it smirking. Two can play at the game, your hands started to roam around his pants, rubbing him slowly through his pants. Eddie couldn't help it but moan softly, and it was the perfect opportunity to shove your tongue in his mouth, exploring what's yours. Moaning softly you gently tug on his hair.

He pulled away and placed a kiss on your neck making you giggle. "Let's go take this to the room, shall we princess?" He whispered.

He stood up, you wrapping your legs around his waist and with holding you by the butt. He kicked the door open and closing it behind him with a foot. He gently threw on the bed, he removed his shirt throwing it across the room. You look at him smirking, he pinned you.

"Ah ah hold on lover boy, who said you're gonna be in charge" you said and flipping him, so his back is on the mattress. "Now just lay there for now and enjoy this" you whispered in his ear. "Now take your pants off"

Eddie looked at you, never seeing this side of you. He slowly began to remove his pants, seeing he was already hard through his boxers you bite your lip. Pinning him down you kissed him roughly, straddling on his waist. You began to remove your shirt and shorts leaving you in a matching black lace underwear and bra. You started to move your hips a bit.

He moaned softly and groaned. "Fuck..sweetheart"

You smirk and started to place kisses on his neck again. Rubbing his member through the boxers. He groaned more making you giggle. "What does Eddie want?"

"Please..darling" he moaned out.

"Please what?"you cooed.

"I want you to make me feel good please darling." He pleaded.

Smirking to yourself, not wanting to tease as much. You kissed his lips and slowly made your way down. Stopping at his boxers you smirk at him, you slowly taking his boxers off.

"Please, darling.."

You got them completely off,looking at him blinking slowly, giving him an innocent face. You kissed the head of his member and slowly you took his cock in your mouth. Throwing his head back Eddie groaned softly, Venom wanted to be apart of this.

"Mm darling.." Eddie moaned out, gripping your hair quite roughly. You moan at his actions. Venom slowly started to take over half his body. You take more of his member in your mouth, quickly moving your head.

Looking at him, you saw that he had his head thrown back, and also seeing Venom take over one of his arms and half of his neck and face.

"Fuck.." They both breath out. Mmm hearing both there voices moan because of you just made you more excited.

After a few moments, he started to thrust in your mouth, you take more of his member in, moving your tongue around base and you pulled away. Looking at them innocently, you were about to continue until a voice startled you.

Looking up seeing half of Eddie's face you smirk. "My turn love" pinning you against the bed crashing his lips with yours. You moan and wrap your arms around him. You close your eyes as he slowly kissed your neck. You gasp a bit feeling something wet on your neck. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw Venom hovering you with his tongue licking around your neck, he took over Eddie.

"Hmm our little princess wants to play like that, we will show you."

And with that Venom tongue was around your neck, liking the taste of you. You moan softly and arch your back.

"I want more princess" and with that being said Venom face got closer to you face. Licking your face and lips. You moan softly, smirking Venom slowly licked your shoulder.

"Ah shit" you cried out in pain, as Venom razor sharp teeth stuck into your shoulder. You shake a bit, it wasn't to deep tho. Venom pulled away licking the blood off.

"Hmm...your skin and blood taste sweet, I wonder how you taste" Venom purred, looking at your bra he quickly ripped it in two pieces with his claws.

"My favorite bra" you whimper.

"Don't worry, we will buy new ones" and with that being said his tongue around your breast paying attention to them equally.

Smirking at you he ripped your underwear off, whimpering. Venom grabbed your legs throwing them over his huge shoulders. He was big compared to him, your body was tiny compared to his. He could easily crush you, snap you like a toothpick.

You whimper loudly, as he held your hips roughly. Claws digging into your flesh. Drawing more blood out of you. His tongue closer to your sex, you moaned all of the sudden as you felt his long tongue slither into your wet folds.

Biting your lip so you wouldn't be moaning for the whole city. But Venom didn't like that he, licking your core, you arched your back moaning loudly. Venom kept eye contact with you, the way you had your head thrown back and moaning for him.

You move your hips a bit and moan more. His tongue was magic you never felt this good it was amazing.

"Look at us little morsel" he said, looking at him. He smiled even bigger, he began to tease your entrance.

You bite your lip. "Please don't tease me"

"Oh you're begging now, we wanna hear you beg for us, and maybe we might give you a special treat" he said and slowly teased you.

You couldn't really speak, you whimper softly. "Please. " you mange to whisper. "Please make me feel good, I need it"

Venom listened to your sweet whimpers begging him, wasting no time at all he entered his tongue in you. You couldn't help yourself and moan in pure bliss. His tongue filled you completely, his tongue moving around your inner walls. He still had a strong grip on your hips.

Venom satisfied with the sounds your making, he purred a bit. You kept moaning, you were close feeling a knot in your stomach.

Venom noticed this, he smirked as he continued to move his tongue inside of you, he moved a claw finger to your clit rubbing that gently.

You cover your moan and close your eyes. You moan in pleasure and arch your back more. A wave of pleasure hitting you, small tears in your eyes. A very intense orgasm.

Slowly Venom snakes out his tongue, licking his teeth looking at you how a predator loold at their prey. "Mm very sweet"

You blush and look away. Biting your lip looking back at Venom but he slowly disappeared back into Eddie's body. He looked down at you, you just warpped your legs around him. Eddie kissing you gently taking a condom out of the bedroom drawer and putting it on he teased your entrance with the head of his member.

"Please Eddie, I just need you please..." You beg and then you whisper in his ear. "Please daddy"

Eddie just looked at you, his eyes darken, quickly entering you roughly. You gasp and hold onto his back. He began to move his hips, thrusting in and out of you. You began to move your hips forward making him. Driving him crazy.

"Mm fuck princess" Eddie moaned out, moving your hips with his hips. He began to thrust faster.

Kissing him softly you moan against the kiss.

"Eddie, I'm close" you moan out.

He grabbed your hips roughly and started to move his hips rougher. You cry out in bliss, having a other intense orgasm. Throwing your head back. He was also close his movement became more sloppier.

He groaned and came inside of the condom, he quickly pulled out making you whimper. He threw the condom away. He looked at you smiling. "That was the best sex I've ever had"

You look at him biting your lip. "Really? I wasn't well...boring" you said quietly

"Heavens no princess! It was the best I had" kissing your forehead, he noticed the bruises and claw marks on your hips and the bite mark on your shoulder.

"Fuck I'm sorry babe, sorry about Venom."

You smile and kiss his cheek looking at him and grabbing his hand. "It's alright, don't worry about it"

"Are you sure" he asked you smile and nodded. He smiled even more laying down and bringing you close. Covering you and him with a blanket.

"I love you Y/N"

You smile and lay your head on his chest. "Mm I love you too Eddie and also Venom"

With that you and him feel asleep with the symbiote appearing once again out of Eddie's shoulder and just laying there with you guys.

[galemalio]

Title: Rift

Summary: Mickey always blamed himself for the rift between him and Donald. For not being there for Donald during WW2. For not convincing Walt harder to get drafted too. So he tries his best to be a better friend after that. Like keeping him out of trouble by convincing him not to join protests in 2018. Because Disney Studios moves safely in involving itself with political matters. But there are some things Mickey couldn't understand in Donald's world that’s bigger than Disney Studios.  

Author’s Note: After running into so many news about the current events in the US, I’ve always wondered how Donald Duck would react to it. After all, he was “drafted” in 1942 to fight against the Nazis. He would have a far different experience and views from Mickey who Walt refused to get involved with war propaganda.

It was like reasoning with a wall. A feathered, stomping wall.

“Donald, you know how they feel about this,” Mickey still attempted. He ducked. An icebox flew. It crashed right into the living room. More scrapings ensued in the closet where it came from.

He straightened up again slowly, arms crossed over his head. In case more heavy objects decided to defy gravity. “They don’t like it when we get involved with controversies.”

Donald just soldiered past him, his bill pressed into a firm stubborn line. He grabbed the icebox and went to the kitchen. Mickey followed. He watched Donald upend ice cube trays into the ice box.

“You know what Walt would say if he was still alive?” Mickey asked. He didn’t miss how Donald paused. How Donald bashed the ice cubes out of the tray with renewed aggression. The duck flung open the refrigerator door.

“He’d say we’re here to bring magic,” he said louder over the water bottles now being dumped into the icebox. “Donald!” he grabbed Donald’s wrist to stop him from tuning him out. “Whatcha want to do is great and all. But there are other ways to help without complicating things for everybody.”

Donald snatched his wrist away, his eyes burning with weight that was ready to fly off the handle. Instead, he grabbed the filled icebox and turned his back on Mickey.

Mickey’s mouth hung open. Donald was obviously irate. When Donald is irate, he would be ranting. Which would make him more gibberish. Which would make him less understandable. Which would just add fuel to his fire.

But underneath his own confusion, there was a stinging twinge at Donald’s dismissal. He could feel it again. The rift between them. It was beyond the clash of their personalities that had labelled them as an odd couple. A curious disconnect that had stretched for more than 70 years.

Then talk to me, Donald! He wanted to shout. Walt had always said Donald is his problem child. Mickey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I want to join protests too. I want to do the good. But this is messy.” He went around to face Donald again. “We’ll find another way to help,” he said with a hopeful smile. Hope that he got through to Donald. Hope that Donald realizes the weight they carry as Walt’s children. Hope that for once, Donald would listen.

Donald only walked past him and disappeared in the closet again. Mickey wanted to tear his own ears off. Ever since Donald’s creation back in 1930s, Donald never recognizes Mickey’s responsibility in being in charge -in and out of the set.

“Amy will be harder on you after this,” he said. Amy was Donald’s newest handler. Donald was usually a tired, passive slacker. Until he goes off. After that, it’s a battle of wills with a duck that had mastered bullheadedness into perfection. Eighty years could do that.

Donald didn’t answer. He just placed the first aid kit beside the icebox. Mickey gaped at it. Donald, as a toon, hardly needs that. Toons were pretty much indestructible. “What does Daisy think about this?” Mickey asked.

“She. Un. Der. Stands,” he grounded out, each syllable a heel grinding pointfully on Mickey.

Mickey frowned, meeting his eyes. That was unfair. Here he was trying to communicate with someone who’s shutting him out and he was the one who couldn’t understand him?

I should’ve been there for him, he thought in frustration. Should’ve tried harder with Walt. I could’ve convinced him. I would’ve been there for him.

Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve.

Mickey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he had asked Walt why Donald couldn’t just be good. Everything you are, he isn’t, Walt had confided. Everything he is, you aren’t.

“Who are you going with?” Mickey asked.

Donald looked away and his shoulders fell with a huff. In his own Donaldy-way, it was his form of regret. For that, Mickey forgave him.

“I’m going with José and Panchito,” he offered in a gruff non-apology apology.

Mickey tried to ignore the surge of jealousy. Panchito and José have helped Donald from his darkest times after World War 2. Something he nor Goofy couldn’t get Donald out of.

He chastised himself. At least they made Donald smile back in those days when Mickey could only watch as Donald spiralled. Panchito and José could be controversial -smoking and gunning and sleeping around. But the two birds were good for Donald. He remembered how Donald would disappear to Brazil or Mexico at least once a year. Perhaps, even too good.

“They want to be there for the immigrants,” Donald said. Mickey quickly wiped away any emotion his face might betray. He wondered if Donald saw right through his shameful jealousy. He was supposed to be a good friend. Someone who’s purely happy for him.

Donald took his placard from its resting place. His fingers slid down the freshly dried paint, its message bold and clear.

“Mickey… remember when Goofy and I got drafted?”

Mickey startled. Donald never talked about the war. Never wanted to. Mickey placed his hands over his. Just as he predicted, Donald moved his hands away, still holding the sign.

“I wanted to be drafted too,” Mickey quietly said. His ears lowered. “But Walt wouldn’t let me.”

Another closeted flaw he kept to himself. While Goofy was only a posterboy in bombardment squads, Donald was more involved in the war. Aside from the propaganda films, Donald actually served.

But at what cost?

The stormier eyes. The heightened sensitivity to sudden noises. (Grenades, he told himself. It was those goshdarned grenades.) The defeated weariness after there was nothing left to destroy in his fits of anger. The directors thought it was funny. Mickey had trusted Walt.

In a way, Walt did help Donald. He brought him along to his diplomatic missions in Latin America where Donald first met José. Then Panchito. Mickey wished Donald had gotten psychiatric help sooner instead.

“I should’ve convinced him harder to let me get drafted too,” Mickey said, his voice dropping into a whisper. The room seemed to get colder as he pulled out his own confessional like pulling out his teeth with a rusty hook. “It should’ve been us together: Mickey, Donald and Goofy. Like we always do.”

And maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face the war alone, he thought, a bitter taste invading the back of his throat.

Donald dryly stared at him as though Mickey couldn’t see it.

See what?! Mickey wanted to scream. This wasn’t the first time Donald had looked at him laconically like he was a little kid. A little kid who couldn’t tell apart real life from cartoons. Whenever Mickey gave thought about Donald, the duck was stimulatingly, frustratingly a bag of contradictions. Selfish and selfless. Apathetic and passionate. But self-absorbed and aware at the same time?

But he was Mickey Mouse. He didn’t rage or scream. That was Donald’s thing. Instead, he only felt lost. He was usually the one who shows Donald how to be happy. But when did bliss became ignorance?

“You’re his golden boy,” Donald opened the first aid kit and counted the gauze. There was no resentment. No jealousy. Just weariness from living with the facts. “Walt would never be convinced to get you tainted by reality.”

Mickey held his arm as if covering a sting.

“Walt meant well,” Mickey said, he couldn’t help that his tone sounded protesting. “He just didn’t expect...” he shrugged, looking around. Trying to find the right word for the gray that came after. The gray that had colored Donald underneath pristine white feathers. “...Everything.”

There was something distant in Donald’s eyes as he looked at Mickey. Like he was watching a bird fly because that’s what birds do.

“No point regretting what wasn’t done,” Donald said, eyeing the amount of antiseptic in a bottle. Mickey got the feeling he wasn’t only talking about him not getting drafted.

“Donald,” Mickey grabbed his arm. This was it. “I wasn’t there to share what you’ve been through-”

Donald tried to shrug him off, looking confused. “I never wanted you to.”

But Mickey held on. “-and I’m trying to be a better friend-”

“What?!”

“-that’s why I don’t want you to get into trouble.” Mickey could already imagine the internet wars following the protests where Donald, Panchito and José would be seen. With Donald’s temper, probably lawsuits included. The PRs. The paparazzis going nuts. “The executives would let us hold charities. Give donations. Promote NGOs. Be a more positive influence without opposing anyone.”

He squeezed his arm. “Donald, things don’t always have to be messy.”

Donald leaned away. He stared at Mickey so hard, Mickey could almost see the gears grinding behind his eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not your fault,” Donald finally said.

“But Donald-”

“Nope! Nu-uh! You’re not going to make me say it, Mickey!”

“Donald, what’re you-”

“You’re a great friend! There! I said it!” Donald’s face shone firetruck red. “Don’t you dare try any harder or you’ll drive me up the wall!”

Mickey stood there frozen, trying to understand what was happening. Donald only looked at him frustratingly, silently blaming him at the turn of their conversation.

“Does that mean you’ll take up my offer?” Mickey asked in a small, hopeful voice that wheedled through the awkwardness between them.

Donald slapped a hand over his face. Hard. He slowly dragged it over his eyes. Then down his bill. Mickey felt like a kid who had asked an idiotic question to a parent whose patience was running thin.

But instead of throwing up his hands with an “Ah, phooey!” Donald just sighed.

“Mickey… I’ve seen what that hate,” he gestured outside, “had lead to before.“

Mickey snapped to attention. Donald spoke each word slow and deliberate to be understandable over his speech impediment. Donald never had the patience for it before.

Donald picked up his icebox and first aid kit, his sign tucked under his arm. “This is another war and I’m going to fight it.” A shadow crossed his face that Mickey could only imagine what it was. “Before it gets bloody…. Bloodier than last time.”

Before he could walk away, Mickey grabbed his hand. Donald glanced at it before looking at Mickey.

“I can’t be there with you,” Mickey said quietly. Rough with anguish at what he must do. Or rather what he mustn’t do.

Donald only smiled as though once again, he was expecting this. “I know.”

Mickey could almost feel the “child-friendly” bounds keeping him at place. It was what Walt would’ve wanted for him. He tried to smile back.

Donald laughed at his attempt. His smile must’ve looked like he was grinding broken glass under his palm.

“Ah, phooey!” His webbed foot kicked imaginary dust. Donald slipped his hand away from his, looking anywhere but at Mickey’s unbearably conflicted face. “The kids still need you. Away from all of this,” Donald waved his hand.

Mickey just hung his head and Donald thought harder.

“This time, I won’t really be alone,” he finally said. “Don’t worry ‘bout me!”

They suddenly hear a car honk in the beat of the Cucaracha.

Donald’s face lit up with a smile that could challenge the sun. “Panchito! José!” He was gone in a puff of dust. Mickey didn’t need to see them to know that they’re in a happy tangle of hugs with a confusing showering of Portuguese-Spanglish.

Mickey watched them by the door. There was still a rift between them. An abyss that Mickey couldn’t cross. Walt meant so much to him that he would always follow Walt’s wish. Donald had understood that longer. However, above that abyss, there was now a connection firmly taut between them.

He watched them all shout, “The Three Caballeros!” He felt that surge of jealousy again. This time, it was fainter. There was an acceptance with the fact that at least Panchito and José wouldn’t just be there to pick up the pieces like last time. They would have his back.

Donald gave him one last glance and Mickey finally gave him a genuine smile, waving. Panchito and José waved back. They drove off, their picket signs sticking out of their car.

As long as Donald wouldn’t be alone in the other side of the rift, Mickey took comfort that he would be okay.

Author’s Notes: Alright, most of you may not like where Mickey had stood in here. But Mickey is the face of Disney who always do what’s right for his Disney kingdom. He would always choose the pacifist way first until it no longer works. Donald, who has a slight disregard for rules, would’ve set for a more confrontative path.

[moonlight-spectacles]

In Defense of Bliss Utonium

Okay, so I just found out the PPG had a POC as a new sister, and I quickly rushed to watch it. I just finished watching the Bliss story...and now I’ve learned she’s been getting a lot of criticism. I am really not surprised at this. Not because I feel the criticism is really that legit (because I don’t think it is, at all actually), but because leave it to people nowadays to over critique everything and find faults with a microlens.

I finished watching about 10 minutes ago and I’m already sick of seeing the  arguments against her, so I decided to write a rebuttal post.

Keep in mind, if there are any other arguments to address, I’ll add on later, but these are the ones that really bothered me.

1. Bliss has daddy issues

No. She  really doesn’t. Bliss never had daddy issues, I have no idea where this dumb argument even came from. Mostly, I’ve seen it said because she calls him “daddy” while the other girls call him Professor. First of all, it’s actually sweet she refers to the Professor as her dad. Because for all intents and purposes, he is. Keep in mind Bliss was his first child, the only one he had at the time. She referred to him as her dad, I don’t see the issue with that. 

2. Bliss is emotionally unstable

First off, I’m gonna have to stop you right there. Bliss is not emotionally unstable. Her powers are unstable. The actual episode outright said this. Bliss has a condition where regardless of her emotions, whether happy, sad, angry or frightened, her powers combine with her emotions and cause an explosion to occur. 

Professor Utonium.

She (Bliss) truly was the perfect little girl Sweet, strong, incredibly smart. she was my favorite little girl. over time, her powers began to evolve, and not always for the better any emotion, be it good or bad caused her to lose control of her powers. she was scared. I was scared. It got to the point that at any moment, things could go wrong.

Bliss was a result of Chemical W, a step away from X. I concluded that X was the perfect chemical and that’s why Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup didn’t explode at any point. It was a chemical imbalance in Bliss that had to do with said chemical Professor used, not the fact that she’s that way due to her being a poc.

But you know what? Even if  it was just her having high strung emotions sometimes, we see Bliss as a child and as a teenager. Guess what? Kids and teens can have shitty behavior sometimes. I know I threw tantrums as a kid. I slammed my doors, I stomped down hallways, I screamed and cried. Only difference between me and Bliss is that I didn’t have superpowers that destroyed shit whenever I did it. How would her expressing realistic behavior for a child be a bad thing? 

3. Bliss has an attitude

This is almost a continuation of the 2nd point. Bliss has an attitude, really? First of all, as I said above, Bliss was a child at the time we saw her with said “attitude.” It’s normal to have a less than stellar attitude sometimes. Second, I don’t see anyone bitching about Buttercup, who over the course of both the original and new series, has shown an attitude far exceeding what Bliss ever showed. 

Don’t get me wrong, Buttercup has always been my favorite Powerpuff, but where the hell do people get off coming at Bliss for her emotions, when Buttercup has one, even worse than hers? Buttercup was long known to be quick to anger, be the first to rebel of her sisters, and was quite aggressive at times. But of course Bliss can’t show any negative emotions whatsoever or she’s an “angry black woman stereotype.” 

As a POC myself, it pisses me off that black characters are not allowed to have emotions that are outside of the realms of perfection or being “strong” without being scrutinized. POC are human, we have both positive and negative emotions. We can be angry, we can be sad, we can love and show weakness at times. Wow, I know what a fucking shocker. 

Moreso, Bliss was blatantly stated to have anxiety. As someone who also lives with anxiety, I completely understood and related to her and her struggle, especially when her sisters continued to (unknowingly) place her under so much stress. I hate being put on the spot and pulled into many directions, it makes me very nervous, as if I’ll somehow mess up if I choose “wrong” or do something wrong. 

4. Bliss lived on “bird poop island”

....what does this matter? It was weird sure, but I found it a bit humorous and actually, I like the metaphor surrounding it. She found a beautiful island, but it was dampened significantly by the poop on the island. Yet she still made the best of a shit (pun intended) situation and found a sense of peace and happiness anyway. And although it turned out to be Him, she thought she’d made a very good friend in Me, that helped her through it as well.

5. Bliss’ best friend was a monkey.

So what are you trying to say? Because Mojo, whose legit been a monkey since we first saw him was someone she was actually friends with as opposed to her enemy right off the bat like with the other girls, makes this racist? I thought it was interesting that Mojo wasn’t jealous of her, the way he was so jealous of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, and it showed (to me) a different side to Mojo. 

As humorous as they made it out to be, I found it cute that he was going out of his way to try and help Bliss, and truly thought of her as a good friend seeing as he immediately recognized and was happy to see her. I think people are really exaggerating and making a mountain out of literally nothing. Like, who cares if Mojo was her friend. Nobody would care if it was Fuzzy Lumpkins (hmph, or maybe they’d dig deeper and say he represents the ignorance in the deep south and that’s also racist because of “reasons”), but go and stereotype her because Mojo happens to be a monkey. Please.

6. Bliss design perpetrates stereotypes

Why, because she’s a teenager and teenagers tend to have a different shape than children? I would have never guessed! I guess you forgot when the Powerpuff girls in the original story had an episode where they were teenagers, they also had wide hips right? How is this an issue again? If you don’t like the design as far as aesthetics, okay, but stop making it a bigger deal than it is. 

7. Bliss has blue hair, its unrealistic.

You really want to talk about things being unrealistic in a children’s cartoon, where we have flying little girls with unbelievable superpowers, and a man has the ability to create literal human life using chemicals? Come on now. 

Besides that, I fucking loved Bliss hair. I loved the color. I loved that it lit up when she did her powers. I fucking loved it. One thing I wouldn’t have minded is if it looked more natural as far as afrocentric style, but I wouldn’t care if it remained blue and lit up at all. 

Final point?

STORM (for which I noticed clear similarities, what with her hair glowing white instead of her eyes, and the lightning surrounding her).

8. Bliss isn’t the 4th sister, Bunny is!

Look, I cried too when Bunny died. She was an amazing sister and deserved better. But if we’re going to get technical with it? Bunny was the 5th sister, not Bliss. Bliss came before all of them. She was the original daughter. I do agree a callback to Bunny would have been wonderful, and I understand Bliss came in the reboot and Bunny was in the original, but they did it in a way as to not erase Bunny by having Bliss be a new creation of Professors and called the 4th sister. Instead, she was the original. 

Bottom line, I loved Bliss, I enjoyed her storyline and the only problem I had with her story is that there isn’t more at this point. 

Bliss is receiving unwarranted, bullshit hatred she doesn't deserve and I am already done with the nonsense. 

[fairyling]

mismatched // part 7

summary: everyone has marks on their body that match their soulmate. stan doesn’t believe that there’s someone out there to complete him while richie dates people left and right in hopes of finding the person to finish his life.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this! i wanted to make it angsty, but the fic kind of went it's own way. there's a surprise at the end! check me out on ao3

word count: 1531

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8

That night Richie and Eddie both spent the night at Bill’s house. It seemed like he needed some sort of reminder that everything would be okay so Eddie put aside his feelings and decided to stay with Richie. Richie, on the other hand, had no intentions of going home and was already stealing clothes from Bill that he could sleep in. Eddie had rolled his eyes when he heard Richie making jokes about getting into Bill’s pants as he pulled on the pajama pants, but didn’t comment. Since everyone left the tall boy had been flirting with both Bill and Eddie and he wondered how long it would be until Richie flirted with all of his friends.

They were watching an old Batman cartoon when Eddie felt the couch shift beside him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Richie inching away from him and closer to Bill who seemed oblivious to what was going on. A soft sigh blew past Eddie’s lips and he drew his knees to his chest. Lately, it felt like Richie wanted to cuddle with anyone other than him and it hurt. Eddie thought that him and Richie were inseparable, but here he was sitting on the couch alone as he heard Richie starting to press kisses to Bill’s neck. It hurt even more when he heard a breathy gasp from Bill, but nothing to stop the other boy. He reached for the remote and turned up the volume, pretending he didn’t notice his friends kissing beside him.

Bill knew that him and Richie weren’t soulmates, but the feeling of the other boy’s lips on his skin was more than welcomed. In all honesty, Bill had felt so starved for attention and physical touch that he’d welcome anything. His hands had settled on Richie’s hips as the other boy crawled into his lap and he hardly noticed Eddie turning up the volume on the television. It wasn’t until he heard Richie whispering after he nipped at Bill’s neck that he was pulled from his bliss.

“What the fuck is this?” Richie whispered, tugging at Bill’s collar to get a better look before he pulled away to glance at the boy underneath him. A small smile was on Richie’s face and Bill watched with confusion, staring at Richie’s swollen lips. “You have a fuckin’ soulmark, Big Bill. Or, you’re fucking with me just like Stan. If that’s the case, I’m going to fucking kill you.” Bill flinched away when Richie spoke and he pushed the curly haired boy off his lap before excusing himself to the bathroom so he could inspect what Richie was talking about. Bill had checked himself before everyone came over and once again he found that he had no soulmark. Once he got to the bathroom he took off his shirt and looked in the mirror. While Bill didn’t know what he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t what he saw.

“Eds you’re so pr--”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.”

“Is your mom mad that I didn’t call, again?”

“I’m going to kill you with this remote.”

“Kinky.”

Richie was moving closer to Eddie now and he could see it out of the corner of his eye so he moved over on the couch until he was pinned between the arm of the couch and his best friend. He tried to duck away so he could sit on the floor, but Richie’s arms were around Eddie before he could move. “Let go of me.” Richie didn’t. Instead he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Richie didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he wanted to kiss as many people as possible. It felt like each friend that he kissed left him feeling a different way and the boy was trying to decipher it all. One of those feelings was the feeling of when you kissed your true love and the more he kissed, the more faith Richie lost in the soulmarks.

“I just want to cuddle with you.”

“You don’t cuddle by kissing.”

“I do.”

“Well, stop.”

“Eddie--”

“I don’t want you kissing me. You don’t feel that way about me.”

“Says who?”

“Your soulmark!”

“You don’t even have one. How do you know anything about soulmarks?”

“I--” Eddie cut himself off and shook his head. While he didn’t have a soulmark, yet, Eddie believed that he knew a fair amount about soulmarks. He had done his own research on them and looked into it to find out as much as he could about soulmates and what they meant. Part of Eddie was worried that he’d never have one so he did extensive research to find out if it was normal or not for him to not have a soulmate yet. “I’m going to bed.” he finally said, shoving Richie away as he grabbed his toiletry bag to go brush his teeth in the bathroom and take his medication.

Richie sat on the couch and stared as his friend walked away. He failed to notice the sunflower appearing on the smaller boy’s wrist.

Stan and Mike were sitting in the barn and as much as Stan wanted to say he didn’t like it, there was something peaceful about the barn. They were sitting in some hay and Stan wondered how dirty it really was, but his thoughts were interrupted when he felt a large hand on his knee. The boy looked over at his friend and offered a weak smile before resting his head on Mike’s shoulder. “Do you believe in all of this soulmate stuff?”

“I wanted to.”

“That’s past tense.”

“Now I just don’t want to lose my friends.”

“We were all drifting apart as it was.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No one stays friends with anyone forever. If it doesn’t happen now, it’ll happen when we graduate.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“You really think that we’d all still talk to each other when we’re all going to different schools?”

“It’s nice to pretend.”

“You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“Weren’t you doing the same by being with someone who had a soulmark different from yours?”

“What would you do?”

“I don’t know. The person I want has the same one as me.”

Stan paused and looked at Mike with a confused expression. He thought he knew what Mike’s mark was, but now that he thought about it he couldn’t remember. Nimble fingers reached for the other boy’s shirt, but Mike caught his wrist in his hand. The two shared a look before Mike leaned in and let his lips brush against Stan’s. At first he was shocked, but before Mike could pull away he had his hands on Mike’s cheek to pull him in closer.

“I just--- I want someone to love me.” Beverly was sobbing into Ben’s chest as he rubbed her back. When he went after her, Beverly had first told him to go back and insisted that she wanted to be alone. He could hear in her voice, though, that she needed a friend so he walked beside her in silence until she snapped at him. It took a total of three minutes before her anger dissolved into tears.

“I know.. I know.”

“This isn’t fair to you, Ben. I know it isn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been in love with me since we were twelve and here I am complaining that nobody loves me.”

“I know you don’t mean any harm with what you’re saying, Bev.”

“I just… want to mean something.”

“You mean something to all of us. The losers wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Beverly pulled away to look at Ben with a small frown. His words sounded genuine and she desperately wanted to believe him despite everything she felt inside. Shaky fingers brushed some stray hair out of her face and she nodded without even realizing. If Ben said she meant something, then she meant something. He wouldn’t lie to her. He loved her too much to do that.

“You’re special, Ben.”

“Baby, I believe in you.”

With that they both erupted into laughter. New Kids on the Block was still their thing and Ben was glad to see that the reference brought the light back to Beverly’s eyes. He was lost staring into them, thinking of all the metaphors he could make in his next poem. In fact, Ben was so caught up that he didn’t realize Beverly was leaning in until she closed her eyes and he felt her lips brush his. At first he jumped back and Beverly looked embarrassed, but Ben was quick to catch himself and lean in to kiss her hard. Neither of them would see the mark on his shoulder until later.

Bill wasn’t expecting a soulmark to ever show up on his skin. Part of him wondered if his chances at leading a happy life died with his brother. Still, he knew that Richie wouldn’t lie to him about that. Soulmarks felt like such a touchy subject as is. Instead of one soulmark staring back at him in the mirror, though, Bill found that he was staring at a body covered in soulmarks.

[noodlewill]

daddy, please - suga scenario (m)

daddy min yoongi x little male reader

word count: 2,312

yoongi texts you some exciting instructions. you want to be a good boy for your daddy, so all you can do is obey.

requested by anon

For the third time in five minutes, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it with a smile as you saw your lock screen - a picture of you and Yoongi, both smiling as your faces pressed against each other. You opened the messenger app, rereading the text you had received from your boyfriend not long earlier. It could have been the cool morning air that reddened your cheeks, but you found it more likely that the pink blush dusting your skin was caused by the words you were scanning with your eyes.

“i need you to go over to my apartment,” the text read. “there’s a present for you on the bed. i want you waiting there for me when i get home. don’t let me down, baby boy.”

His words made your heart flutter excitedly. You could hardly wait to find out what Yoongi had gifted you with, although you were even more excited to see him later that day. He was going to be out working for the next few hours, and you could only imagine the anxious impatience you’d experience over the course of the day while you waited for him.

Despite your immense thankfulness for the instructions you’d been given to carry out through the day, a part of you was mourning the day you’d lost, which you had planned to spend in your pyjamas, watching cartoons. You pushed these thoughts out of your head; you were an obedient and respectful little boy, and you were eager to please your Daddy. And it was true that you were more than elated at the thought of a present from Yoongi, just for you.

Once you reached the building where Yoongi lived, you practically skipped up the stairs to his apartment, so overjoyed that you barely even cared that the elevator wasn’t working. Running up the many sets of stairs only served as a method of releasing the overwhelming excited energy that was gathered in your body.

You let yourself in with the key that you had been trusted you with, and dashed straight towards the bedroom, not even pausing to remove your coat or shoes. Before entering the room, however, you sheepishly turned your head to look behind you, checking that you hadn’t left any muddy footprints on the pale-coloured carpet. You heaved a sigh of relief when you saw that you hadn’t, and pushed open the door.

You let out a small gasp when you saw the package lying on the bed, just as Yoongi had told you it would be. You picked it up gently, the paper wrapping rustling with the movement. The parcel felt soft and squishy, and not very heavy. It felt like... clothes, perhaps? You couldn’t hold off any longer, and you tore away at the paper, revealing the contents. Your mouth hung agape in awe as you gazed at the item you held.

It appeared that Yoongi had treated you to some expensive lingerie. In front of your eyes was a creation of delicate fabric, in a shade of beautiful baby blue. The soft blend of silk and lace felt precious and magical in your hands, and you were beyond grateful for it. You yearned to see the look on Yoongi’s face when you wore it. More than that, you were desperate for him to tear it off your body. Even at the thought, you began to get riled up. You began to get changed immediately, aching to see how you looked.

You had spent the day simply trying to pass the time, but nothing could distract you from the impatience which had you so restless. You had spent some time playing on your phone, watched some tv, even tidied up Yoongi’s apartment, which was mostly immaculate anyways. Around half an hour before he was due to arrive home, you gave up trying to entertain yourself, and lay on the bed waiting for him, donning the elegant outfit that you had grown to adore. You stared fixedly at the lingerie hanging off your body, your fingers toying with the fine cloth. You heaved a happy and satisfied sigh, appreciating the gift with pure adoration in your eyes.

Once the blessed sound of the front door opening hit your ears, you jumped excitedly, but contained yourself enough to stretch out, positioning yourself into an alluring pose on the bed.

Yoongi appeared in the doorway, and your heart rate increased in an instant. He looked so stunning, wearing a shirt and tie and looking at you with a sultry eye.

He merely stood there for a few moments, drinking in the view. You watched as his eyes raked up and down your body. He thirstily took in the sight of you, from your long, bare legs, to your broad chest which was wrapped in the pastel-coloured material. His eyes stopped, and lingered on your crotch. The lingerie which Yoongi had bestowed upon you was directed at a female market, and so the shape of your cock was clearly visible, already growing hard and beginning to spill out of your pants.

Yoongi licked his lips, and finally spoke. “Right where I wanted you to be. Good boy.”

You beamed at the praise he gave you, his words meaning everything to you. “Do I look good, Daddy?”

He hummed lightly. “You look perfect, angel. You never disappoint.”

Your cheeks reddened proudly at his approval. You sat up with courage. “Can... Can you kiss me?” you asked, looking up at Yoongi through your eyelashes.

“How can I say no to such a well-behaved little boy?” he replied with a smirk, drawing closer to you. He leaned down, his fingers drifting across your jaw. You closed your eyes and melted into his touch. The contact was so slight, but even still its effect on you was gigantic. You felt goosebumps pop up along your skin, and you wanted to feel his hands on you every second of the day.

After seconds of glorious and dreadful teasing, he graced your lips with the kiss you had asked for, which was gentle at first, until he snaked his hand around to cup the back of your head, attacking your lips with more fervour. You mewled into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue in between your lips, licking into your mouth.

You reached out with your hand, placing it on Yoongi’s waist, lusting for more proximity. He allowed it to rest there for not even a second before he cut off the kiss, picking up your hand and removing it softly. “Don’t touch Daddy unless he gives you permission,” he reminded you sternly. “Okay, kitten?”

You nodded bashfully, murmuring an apology.

Yoongi shifted back slightly, raising his hands to release the tie from around his neck. His strong, thick fingers removed the strip of fabric, before moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. He slowly made more of his body visible, starting from his defined collarbones, and moving onto his pecs before revealing his tight abs. You admired his shoulders as he shrugged out of the white shirt. Such a simple action almost had you drooling, although you found no reason to chastise yourself; you did have the hottest and most handsome Daddy in possibly the whole world.

You couldn’t prevent yourself from letting out an audible breath when he went to unbuckle his belt. A low chuckling sound emerged from his throat, his hands pausing. “You can’t wait to see me take off my pants, can you? You’re in love with my dick, hm? Isn’t that right, baby? My little cockslut.”

His dirty words enticed a quiet moan from you. “Yes, Daddy,” you agreed.

“You’re a good little boy,” Yoongi told you. “You look so good, all dressed up in your new costume for me. I’m gonna be nice to you today.”

You made a purring sound. “Thank you, Daddy. You’re so kind to me.”

He resumed the taking off of his clothes, unfastening his belt in order to pull down his trousers. Your breath hitched as your eyes met the sight of Yoongi’s growing bulge inside the dark fabric of his boxers. He continued to strip until he was completely naked, and you itched to wrap your lips around his length, but you wanted to behave for Daddy, didn’t want him to think you were a naughty boy.

He began to stroke his manhood, so close to you, but not nearly close enough. He grew harder before your eyes, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left your mouth. Yoongi responded to this, stepping nearer to you once again. “Are you ready, little boy? Do you want my cock in your mouth?”

You nodded with a whine. “Please, Daddy.”

“Alright,” he approved, and you opened your mouth for his erection, looking up at him with wide eyes as he pushed his shaft down your throat. You groaned, and the vibrations teased a gasping moan from Yoongi. You watched proudly as his expression twisted into one of bliss, delighted at the pleasure you were able to give him. Your mouth and throat were unbelievably full, the feeling of it blowing your mind,

You longed to reach out and help his length into your mouth, fondle his balls as he thrusted, and his panting only egged you on. He pulled out of your mouth before you could misbehave, and although your aching jaw was relieved, you let out a moan at the loss of Yoongi’s dick in your mouth.

“Not yet, baby, you don’t get my cum just yet,” he puffed, the sensations having left him breathless. You whimpered, your throat aching and your cock painfully hard.

“C-Can you touch me now, Daddy?”

“You’re so needy,” he cooed, stroking your cheek. “So cute when you’re needy.”

Yoongi gently pushed you back, putting you into a lying position on the bed. He leaned over you, dipping his head down to nip your neck, causing you to shiver involuntarily. He let his dark eyes roam over your body. “How do you manage to look so fucked when your dick hasn’t even been touched yet?” he asked, sounding slightly awestruck. You simply exhaled as a response, hungry for the feeling of his hands on your skin.

He granted your wish seconds later, his open hands grazing your sides, playing with the material that adorned your body, slowly inching towards your crotch. You let out a whine, Yoongi’s teasing driving you insane.

“Beg for me.” His words were whispered, but with the way they echoed in your ears, the sound reverberating around your mind, he could have yelled it.

“Please, Daddy. I need you to touch me, I need to feel your hands on me. Please, please make me feel good or I’ll die,” you cried out.

You saw the satisfied smile on Yoongi’s face as he spoke. “I can see how badly you want this, baby.”

His hand finally found your cock, palming it through the lingerie. You groaned loudly, dissolving into pleasure under his touch.

“More, more,” you pleaded with him.

“Don’t get greedy, now,” Yoongi chuckled at this, but obliged anyways, yanking off the scanty lingerie straight away. He wrapped his fingers around your dick, stroking it, slower than you would have liked, but brilliantly nonetheless.

“Mmm,” you hummed throatily, basking in the feelings your Daddy was giving you. The head of your penis glowed red, desperate to release its load. You grew closer to the height of your climax, even the lightest of Yoongi’s touches affecting you in the greatest way.

“Am I... Am I allowed to come, Daddy?” you requested his permission.

He teased you, continuing to pump your length whilst he pressed light kisses across your chest. “Hmm... I don’t know. Have you behaved yourself? Do you think you deserve to come?”

You nodded your head wildly whilst panting. “I’ve been a good boy, Daddy.”

“Alright. You can come, baby.” Almost as soon as he spoke, the white liquid spurted from your cock. His words were like magic, a key unlocking you, bringing you to the edge.

“Th-thank you, Daddy,” you rasped, your breaths ragged.

“Do you want to help Daddy come now?” he asked of you, his cheeks flushed. You agreed, sitting up eagerly, and he gave you allowance to touch him.

You gathered saliva in your mouth, spitting it, letting it fall from your tongue onto Yoongi’s cock, serving as lubrication for your actions. You gripped the base, slowly tugging upwards, all the while looking up into his hazy eyes.

"Such a lovely boy," he praised you whilst you moved. "So good with your hands."

You gradually picked up the speed, utilising both of your hands. You alternated between squeezing and stroking, occasionally tickling his thighs with light kisses.

When Yoongi gave a moan of, “Ah, baby,” you knew he was close, and you swirled your tongue over his tip as you stroked. He released his cum, and it splashed over your face, hitting your lips and cheeks.

“You did so good, Y/N,” he gasped. “Look so pretty with my cum marking your face.” You twinkled with delight, before licking your lips to rid them of Yoongi’s salty cum.

You snuggled into his side, enfolding your arm around his bare and sweating waist. “Sweetheart, we can cuddle after we’ve cleaned ourselves up,” Yoongi protested.

You made a noise of disagreement. “Just one more minute.”

He sighed, giving in to you. “Alright.”

You smiled to yourself, seeing that he was wrapped right around your finger, although you knew he’d deny it if you mentioned it. Despite the argument he would make, there was solid proof that lied in the fact that when you fell asleep against his chest, he did nothing to stir you, instead cleaning you up as you slept, an expression of ultimate fondness on his face.

[pretentious-inklings]

A life by choice

I’ve always dreamed of escaping the suffocating streets of the city. Fantasized about the freedom of faraway places, of pristine sands lit by the suns gentle glow. Where the sapphire sky melts into the sea and every breath fills you with the refreshing life of a world at peace. That’s where I was taking you, a place where you could grow free of society’s boxes, where you could live an honest life, unaffected by the evils of humanity. Arrangements had been made, we had to leave soon.

The plan had been running through my mind all night, building my anxiety with every lap. “It’s ok, we’ve waited long enough” I told myself, hoping more than anything that they had moved on. A police siren somewhere in the distance snapped me out of my obsessive thoughts. It was time. I strolled over to the bundle of blankets in the corner and gave it a gentle nudge. A little face popped out, dazed, no doubt still navigating your way back to reality from the labyrinth of your dreams. But the confusion on your face was quickly consumed by an eager smile and the glimmer of excitement in your bright eyes, a light that only she brought to your face. “Todays the day!” you said, “We get to see mom today.” My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach and it felt as if my throat had tied itself in a knot. I had forgotten about that, but despite my internal screams I forced a smile onto my face and replied “Well then, we better get going if you want to get there early.” We made our way out of the dark, abandoned restaurant and into the grey, smog choked streets.

By the time we arrived at the yard, my face had frozen solid and I wasn’t sure if I even had hands anymore, but you were undeterred. As soon as you saw it you threw all composure out the window and bolted past rows of trees and benches to lightly seat yourself on the patchy grass in front of a small, grey stone whose engraving was still sharp and clear. Then you began “Hi mom, I hope you’re having a good day, you’ll never bel…” I could never bear to listen to your conversations. The raw wound that her passing left in my heart was still fresh. It hurt too much to think that all that had happened was a direct result of a life I chose to live. So I sat on a bench and watched from afar.

The past haunted me. I forfeited the right to sleep the day I decided to deal, but the nightmares only arrived after she had gone. They barged in, making my every thought their playground and burning themselves into the depths of my mind. Never letting me forget that it was my stock that she overdosed on. Sweet poison intended for street kids and people who above all, craved an escape from the backbreaking burdens of life.

After what seemed like hours alone with my thoughts, you turned around and called me over “She wants to speak to you.” You said with gentle encouragement. Kneeling down beside you I fought to free the burdens of my mind, but the words would not form. So you held me tight keeping me strong as my eyes began to flood and the content of my broken heart spilled through quivering lips.

Then came a long breath of recovery and we sat in tender silence. Your courage and strength never ceased to amaze me; I only wish that I could understand the world as you did. When we were both ready to leave, your little body strained in an attempt to lift me from the tear soaked ground on which we sat.

On the long walk to Chad’s place I was bombarded by questions “Why don’t chickens fly?” you would ask, or “Where do the people in the TV go when you turn it off?”, and the one I dreaded most of all “Ooh, When are we getting a puppy?” The avalanche of questions however was cut short as we strolled past the outskirts of a school. You stared longingly past the tall, rusty fences into the classroom windows where children years younger than you keenly practiced their alphabet, the determination on their faces broken only by the occasional giggle and outburst of chatter. As I watched you I couldn’t help but wonder when my vague, compromised answers would no longer be good enough for you, when you’d go out in search of the company of those your own age that our nomadic lifestyle had robbed you of.

Eventually we came to a dainty little house with guarded windows and fragrant smoke flowing from the chimney. Just moments after knocking, the door swung open to a man who filled the entire doorway with his astounding bulk. His face almost completely consumed by ridiculously large beard that failed to hide his childish grin. “There they are!” he said in his jolly tone “Please come in.” He stepped aside, revealing a cozy, fire lit living room from which warm air poured, thawing our frozen bodies. After sitting you down in front of a Scooby-doo cartoon with a cup of hot chocolate Chad ran upstairs and returned to meet me in the kitchen, handing me a large envelope, what looked like an ordinary credit card and his car keys. “Everything’s ready new ID’s, Passports, tickets and enough money to feed a starving family for life” he said with a hint of disapproval in his gruff voice. I had no reply; his concern was more than warranted. ”They haven’t come past here in a while but that doesn’t mean you’ve been forgotten” he whispered, his voice heavy with worry “Stealing from a cartel that big is no joke.” “I have to get her out.” I replied sticking out my hand as a gesture of thanks ”I’ll send you a postcard .” He shook it firmly and a broad smile spread across his face “Be safe brother.” With that I headed for the door, “Aliya, it’s time to go, don’t forget to say bye to uncle chad.” I shouted much to your disappointment.

For most of our trip you sat in the backseat devouring the bag of chocolates from your uncle as we drove towards the airport. We were home and dry, or so I thought.

Bang! The car jerked violently and my neck whipped forward, smacking my head in the steering wheel and flooding my face with excruciating pain. The car in front of us had braked unexpectedly. But I couldn’t care. In a panic, I looked to the back seat, you lay there, limp, forehead drenched in the crimson blood, a look of frantic fear stamped onto your face. Another car started to push us off the road, onto the river bank and you let out a bone chilling shriek. I was terrified. My heart pounded hard in my ears and my hands trembled violently as I fumbled to free myself from the seatbelt to get to you. The car slid onto the river bank and a woman wrenched the door open, grabbed you and stumbled down the slope toward the water.

I forced myself out of the tangled belt and through the shattered passenger’s window. I could see her, standing at the edge of the raging water with a death grip on your semi-conscious body. I took a step forward, the ground slipped from under me and I tumbled down the muddy hill. “Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” she shouted over the roaring rapids, pulling out a gun. “Give me the card or I’ll put a damn bullet through her head!”  “Nooooooooo!” I let out a gut wrenching scream that tore at my throat. Reaching into my pocket for the card I walked slowly towards her and held it out for her to take. In an instant she snatched it from me and shoved you into the thundering river. My heart leaped into my throat and shock ran through my body as I leaped in after you in a fearful frenzy.

The icy water kicked me in the gut as I struggled frantically against the tide to save you. My entire body cried out for mercy but relentless in my efforts, I would not give in. When I finally reached you I pulled you to dry land and hoped against all hope that you were alive. In a desperate attempt to bring you back to consciousness I pumped the water from your lungs.

To my eternal relief you came sputtering back to life, opened your eyes and looked up at me. I forced myself to keep my eyes on you. The unbearable pain that twisted your gentle face and the fear in your eyes made my stomach curdle. I could do nothing to help my baby. But you smiled, your face filled with a familiar light as your breathing slowed and your heart stopped.

I sat there, a man broken.

The sharp gravel cut at my skin. The world was lit by the brutally pale sun that shed no heat. The miserable skies clash with the muddy waters and every breath I take burns my insides. I had failed you. Your body lay cold. Devoid of the beautiful soul it once sheltered. And your eyes, your eyes which were once my escape into blissful innocence are now dark and ominous caverns into which I dare not look for fear I may never return.

The world around me fades away. I feel nothing but the biting cold of a gun barrel behind my head.

Click.

{A short story by pretentious inklings}

[oceniram]

Big Little Princess

My Stories - Wattpad

Emma was sitting inside the play pen watching who, her parents were praising; her little brother for going on the potty and not on his pull-up. Neal's pull-ups annoyed Emma to end because she was stuck in diapers. It seems that the more Neal grows the more she grows down, or more specifically her bodily functions. "Me next" Emma was practically begging her parents to potty train her.

"Please mommy can I use the potty?" Emma wanted out the playpen and out her diapers to bad for her she just messed her self. She just couldn't tell anymore. No one knows how it happened one day Emma was fine then all of a sudden she lost all control.

Today she was determined to get back her control. Her parents were starting to potty train Neal maybe the could kill two birds with one stone and potty train her too. How difficult could it really be. "Please mommy can I go next" She continued to beg and pled from inside the playpen.

Snow smiled over at her baby it was cute that her little one wanted to be like her big brother, she knew Emma wasn't quite ready for potty training she rarely let anyone know she had a soiled diaper, which from the smell she was sure she did right now.

But all the books say showing interest in the potty was good so there was really no harm in letting her try...or at least let her feel like she was. She could play and just sit on the potty.

"Hm I think a certain little girl already did potty.." she cooed going to lift Emma from the play pen patting her messy bottom. "but once mommy cleans your butt I suppose you can try and sit on the potty" she said laying Emma out with her changing supplies in the middle of the living room.

"Really, can I use the big potty like I use to before this happened," Emma asked excitedly at prospect of being allowed to use the toilet like an adult. But something told her that her mommy was going to make her sit in the plastic one like Neal. Ever since she lost the ability to go the bathroom everyone in town has treated her like a little baby and her brother like he was older.

"Mommy why do people think Neal's my big brother when we all know I was born first?" She asked her mother as she was getting cleaned and waiting to be taking to the potty, As she lied there  her thumb found its way into her mouth and she began to suck it without even realizing it.

"Can I sit on the potty now?" she asked in the middle of her mom cleaning her Emma just couldn't wait to be back in big girl pants. She kept on as if she could sit on the potty a few more times. "Can I get big girl undies or pull-ups?" Emma was already jumping the gun thinking that she could master it on her first go.

Snow giggled a little as she went about wiping Emma's bottom. "Well baby I think people saw what a cute little baby Neal was and want that time with you too...after all they were all expecting a baby princess," she cooed tickling her little girl's tummy, trying to give the best explanation she could. She knew telling her it was because she behaved like a younger baby and used her diapers while Neal was potty training would make her upset.

Snow nabbed Emma's thumb from her mouth and quickly swapped it for her "Daddy's Princess" pacifier and she giggled "almost baby you made quite a mess for Mama" to clean up she cooed.

"Hm maybe we can get you some pull ups..if you show me what a big girl you are we'll make you a potty chart like Nealys hm? Then you can get some big girl undies if you can fill up your stickers? How's that sound?"

Emma didn't understand her- her mother's explanation it makes sense to her but at same time it doesn't make ay sense at all. When her mommy tickle her tummy Emma laughed and little pee came out of her. She wasn't sure but she thought something different was going on.

When Snow replaced her thumb with her favorite paci she began to suck contently on it. When her mother mentioned her mess Emma began to blush her face was Redder then the reddest thing. "Not more then Neal." Emma complained she was stating that Neal leaves bigger messes than her.

She knew that the potty chart was her best chance of getting out of this mess so she nodded her head agreeing with her mother. "Thanks mommy for giving me this chance this cant be easy for you." Emma felt that she hadn't turned into a burden for her family.

Snow smiled down at her little one, quick to catch the little trickle with a spare burp cloth in the changing basket before making one last wipe over her to make sure she was all clean.

"I don't know Emmy...both my babies are pretty messy" she teased. She helped Emma up and led her over the little plastic potty helping her sit down. She knelt down in front of her and ruffled her hair.

"No need to thank me darling girl...I'm your mama this is my job" she went about cleaning up the changing supplies and putting on a cartoon to keep Emma and Neal entertained. "I'm going to throw out your diaper Emmy you stay in the potty until I come back okay?"

"Yes, mommy," she blushingly agreed to stay in the plastic potty until Snow came back. She sat their nothing came out. She kept pushing and hoping for a sing that all of this was over, however as soon as the cartoon started Emma got engrossed in it more then Neal, causing her to forget that she was in the middle of potty training so she simply sat their watching the cartoon not trying to push it out.

She was so into the cartoon that when Neal changed the channel she began to cry loudly. Her wails could wake the dead. Emma was pleading for Neal to change the channel back and Neal said no and started to tease her by calling her a poopy baby which made Emma cry even harder then before.

Neal just laughed at his baby sister, they are siblings after all and every set of siblings end up fighting at some point. To Emma's credit she never once stood up from the potty chair not that it matter since nothing happened.

Snow had simply left long enough to take Emma's diaper up to the diaper pail, a quick trip to take the bag to the garabage and back to wash her hands she was nearly finished when Emma's wails sent her racing back to the living room. What in the world had her kids gotten into.

"Neal is everything okay!?" she asked panikedly.

"Emma's bein a baby" Neal said moodily settling back on the couch with the new big kid show he picked.

"Neal" Snow sighed don't tease your sister she said going over to take the remote.

"Emmy shh shh it's okay tv time is over anyway it's time for both of you to go down for naps" she said going over to her sobbing child.

"Am not a baby," Emma argued with her brother sticking her tounge out at him.

"Mommy Neal was being a big meanie. She complained proving that Neal was right that she was being a baby

"Yeah Neal dont tease me" she said sorta happy that Snow was scolding Neal for once

Hearing her mother say it was nap time Emma got worried. "But I didn't get to go potty," Emma whinned from behined her paci."Besides I cant go down for a nap without my milky." Emma didn' t know why she said it, By saying her milky she was referring to Snow breastfeeding her whatever caused Emma to loss her control also gave her babyish quirks.

"Mama I'm a big boy I don't need a nap!" Neal protested.

Snow sighed heavily both her children needed a nap or she'd surely loose her mind.

"If you'd rather sit in time out you may" she told Neal seriously. Neal nodded and grabbed his own blankie off the couch. "I'm going to go put Emmy down for her nap and then I'll be right in for you okay buddy?"

Snow walked over picking up her half naked baby from the potty

"That's okay sweet pea we can try again later" she said kissing her cheek. "I'll give you your milk before your nap don't you worry" she said tickling under Emma's chin as they went off the nursery m.

Emma didn't want to take a nap but, she knew from experience that a nap was better then a time out. She let her mommy take her to her nursery Emma giggled and a little bit of drool escape her mouth and drip unto her chin. "Am big girl right mommy?" She asked her mother after Neal's teasing and her wailing over a cartoon made Emma thing thinks.

"Can I try and use the potty after my nap mommy?" She wanted to prove that she was the big sister and not the baby. But she hasn't felt like an adult in a long time. She was beginning  to think that the universe was against her.

"Is Nealy going down for a nap or is he getting a timeout?" Emma didn't think it was fair that Neal could get big boy bed and she had to sleep in a crib. Not that she would mention it to her parents.

Snow smiled at her curious little girl kissing her cheek before laying her down on the changing table.

"Yes Emma you are a very big girl" snow said..she knew she wasn't but telling Emma should was would satisfy her for now and get her down for her nap.

"Well someone is suddenly very interested in the potty" Snow smiled.

"Nealy is getting a nap just like you cause he listened to Mama and didn't argue" she said as she grabbed a diaper and slid it under Emma's bottom tapping it up deciding it was warm enough in the house to leave Emma in just her shirt and diaper. She settled them both in the rocking chair before she removed her blouse, unclipping her nursing bra so Emma could latch on.

"Now lets have our milkies and get you down for a nap"

Hearing her mother call her a big girl made Emma forget about her worries. She laid there babbling like the baby she had become while she was getting a diaper on.

"Yeah I wannna be the big sister not the baby sister cause Nealy teases me cause he can use the potty and I can't.". Emma explained why all of as sudden she wanted to master the potty.

Once Snow had gotten her close Emma drank the warm thick milk that came rushing to her mouth. The more milk she drank the heavier her eye lids got. Then slowly she drifted into blissful sleep.

"Everyone learns to potty at their own pace Emma" Snow assured her rocking her "you'll get it eventually Neal's just doing what brothers do best" she giggled "I know he loves you very very much" she promised.

Once her baby was asleep snow laid her in her crib and flipped on the baby monitor and then went to put Neal down, with both her kids down Snow took a bit of time for herself before she started to prep lunch for her kids.

During her nap Emma dreamed of the days she could do big girl stuff like wear pull-ups and stay up late. As she dreamed of becoming a big girl again she wet her diaper not that bad that would cause her to need a change right away.

"Honey Am home," David announced that he had returned from work walking up to his darling wife he gave her a passionate kiss on the lips "Where is our little man and our baby girl?" He asked her nicely.

Snow leaned into his husbands arms and sighed happily "surprisingly both still napping" she said pecking his lips.

"I'm sure they'd both be very excited if you woke them from nap...and then you all can come down for lunch..maybe we can go have a fun family outing to the pier?"

"Have I ever told you that you're incredible Snow," David kissed his wife one more time and rushed off to wake their children he started with the baby. "Emmy wake up Daddy is home he gently wake her up checking her diaper we can change you later."

Emma ignored the comments of her diaper the moment she saw him he lunged her self at him "Daddy daddy, mommy says I can start potty training" She happily told him the Events as he carried her to the kitchen and place her in her highchair. Stay with mommy while i get Neal okay. Frst he went to Snow and whispered that Emma had wet herself.

"Hey buddy wake wake up its lunch time then were all going to the pier I heard you used the potty like a big boy. Keep this up and you'll bin big boy undies," David complemented his son picking him up he carried Neal to the kitchen and placed him in his booster seat "There we go buddy," He took his place and sat down waiting for Snow to join them.

"Have I ever told you that you're incredible Snow," David kissed his wife one more time and rushed off to wake their children he started with the baby. "Emmy wake up Daddy is home he gently wake her up checking her diaper we can change you later."

Emma ignored the comments of her diaper the moment she saw him he lunged her self at him "Daddy daddy, mommy says i can start potty training" She happily told him the Events as he carried her to the kitchen and place her in her highchair. Stay with mommy while i get Neal okay. First he went to Snow and whispered that Emma had wet herself.

"Hey, buddy wake wake up its lunch time then were all going to the pier I heard you used the potty like a big boy. Keep this up and you'll bin big boy undies,"David complamente his son pickin him up he carried neal to the kitchen and placed him in his booster seat "There we go buddy," He took his place and sat down waiting for Snow to join them.

Neal giggled and hung onto David "I'm a big boy huh Daddy!? Baby Emmy tried to use the potty too but she had a poopy diaper" he giggled "it was smelly!" He continued his little giggling fit.

With both kids down for lunch Snow got them all some lunch, for the kiddos mac and cheese with some fruit. For her and her husband a nice chicken salad, and they split a sandwich. Snow smiled at her family. "Who's ready for a fun day hm?"

"Yes, you are a big boy." David agreed with his son he was proud that Neal was learning how to use the potty like a big boy."She did?" David asked with surprise at the fact that Snow let their baby girl use the potty before she was ready. Neal its not nice to laugh at your baby sister" David scoldeded his son for laughing at Emma.

"I 'am," Emma yelled messily with her face and bib covered in mac and chesse some of it wound up in her  blonde hair. "Can I try and use the potty again please? She asked not knowing that she had goine potty in the middle of her lunch. Where are we going can I wear pants? She asked not that it made any diffrence the whole town was aware of Emma's diaper butt.

Snow giggled at her baby all covered in food looking over at David "A certain little girl of ours wants to be like her Bubba and sit on the potty all the time" she said. Taking a quick second to wipe Emma's face a little she smiled

"You can try baby but when we go out your gonna have a diapee okay? Of course you're gonna wear pants silly girl mama will pick you a cute outfit" she cooed

Emma fused a little as her mother wiped her face clean"So our baby girl wants to be like her big brother," David said sounding proud of Emma for her benfit. Just like Snow David knew his baby girl was no where near ready to potty train he can smell her messy diaper from here.

"Am not baby Neal is," she whinned at her father, "But I wanna wear pull ups lke Neal am a big girl his the baby." Emma whined to her family like the little baby she is.

Neal shook his head "Nooooo you're the baby I can use the big boy potty and you wear diapies!" Neal argued back sticking out his tongue. Snow rolled her eyes hoping the kids would get over this little debacle soon.

"Nope you're both mamas babies" she said "and will always be my babies" she reminded them "but if you two keep this up we won't go out and have fun we can stay home instead.

"Not a baby," Emma crossed her arms and pouted. She was not a baby why couldn't her family see that. "Okay princess your not a baby lets get that messy diaper off you and d sit you in the potty you can leave the potty chair when mommy comes back with your outfit fror the day." David let Emma out of her high chair and cleaned her up the he sat her in the plastic potty .

"Okay Snow our little girl is sitting in the potty could you please bring the outfit she's going to wear today." David asked his wife a loving and caring manner after he turn to Neal "Buddy do you have to go potty" He aske his son if he nned it to use the potty

Snow picked out a pink shirt with Minnie Mouse and some denim overalls with snaps all the way up the crotch, ruffle white socks with pink Velcro tennis shoes and matching bows for her hair to top it off. She brought it all down and say the items aside "Are you going potty Emma?!" She cooed to her.

Neal nodded his head "Yeah daddy I gotta potty!" He said nodding his head urgently.

No mommy nothing came out she said sadly asdavid helpe her stand from the potty. Emma went to her mommy so she could get dressed "Why cant I get mommy?"  Emma was in tears since she couldn't potty right.

"Okay buddy your turn," David motioned for Neal to seat on the potty "Let me know when you're done then we can head out  to our family fun day" David waited for Neal to tell him he wasthat he was done.

Snow laid Emma down on a change mat and put her in her diaper before getting her dressed "Aw sweetie it's okay" she assured her running cirlcles on her belly, you'll get it one day, it took Nealy a long time to learn to go potty! You'll learn in your own time" once Emma was dressed snow did her pretty blonde hair and then started getting the diaper bag ready.

Neal happily did his business then announced proudly "In all done!"

"But mommy i was potty trained then something happened why did I lose control?" She wanted to know what happened how did all of this start was this some weird curse or spell. "Mommy do I have to sit on the stroller?" She asked her after she was ready to go.

"Great job Neal ," David praised his son he also helped the boy wasah his hands and to get him ready, Snow we're ready how about you ladies?" David got near his wife.

Snow felt awful not being able to explain to her daughter what was happening "I know baby" she said stroking her cheek "I don't know how this happened but I do promise me and daddy and Nealy are gonna be there every step okay? We'll figure it out" she sighed and ruffled Emma's hair "How bout we bring it just in case you get tired...or have a hard time staying close with mommy and daddy?" she suggested.

Neal bounded down the stairs with his stuffed dragon in hand along with Emma's unicorn he handed to her with a smile "Here Emmy I brought you Sparkles!" He said knowing his sister didn't go many places with out it "in sorry for teasin you sissy"

Snow smiled at her sweet little boy..took after his father clearly "We ready to go! Let's go have a good day" she said to her children.

"Okay mommy," she replie d Emma felt alot better knowing that her family will help her overcome this thing."Sure mommy." Emma agreed with the stroller idea "Thanks for helping me mommy,"  Seeing her unicorn in her brother's hand she bounced up and down "Sparkels," She shouteted happily .

"Thank you big brother." Emma only reffered to neal as  big brother when he did nice things for her. Beside with the way things are going Emma was starting to see herself as the baby of the family. Its okay mommy says you were just being a big brother." she gave her brother a hug and the family made their way to the pier.

Neal smiled proudly "Welcome Emmy! Wanna play on the castle!?" He asked excitedly as they walked to the pier.

Snow walked hand in hand with her husband watching their children. "They're so cute aren't they? This is the way things should've always been"

"Yeah you the brave knight that has to save me from the evil wizard." Emma said all excited forgetting about her earlier problems.

"Yeah our kids playing togther and having a fun time. David agreed with his wife on it.

Neal look after your sister oh and check her diaper from time to time okay and come to us if you need to go potty or if Emmy needs a change okay. And dont stray to far.

"Daddy," Emma blushed at the idea tha her brother was going to check her diaper.

Neal nodded dutifully her took his job as big brother very very seriously, he took Emma's hand and took her to the play structure being sure she wasn't doing anything to dangerous.

Snow continued to watch their children as she snuggled into Davis's side. "I don't know why Emma is suddenly so very interested in potty training l" she giggled "I just think she's been watching Neal and is trying to imitate him, she always is wanting to be like her brother"

ma blushed at the idea tha her brother was going to check her diaper.

Even tho Emma was dressed like an overgrown toddler and her brother was basically baby sitting her she was having fun, "Look Nealy I can fly," she babbled happily from the highest point of the structure. She blushed any time Neal would checked her diaper. But he was her big brother its okay for brothers to check their baby sister's diapey.

As Snow snuggled to her husband, David wrapped his arms around her. Hearing her comment about Emma David had different theory, "I think its because we let her think she's a big girl when we all know she's just a baby but yes Emma likes to be like her big brother," David commented his thoughts on the matter.

Neal giggled and he chased after Emma "don't gonup too high Emmy!" He warned scared she'd fall and get hurt.

"I think it's awfully cute" she said "I know she's not quite ready but there's no harm in letting her try" Snow said. "It's hard to tell her no when she's got such a cute little face"

"It'll be fine am big girl," Emma stated proudly to her brother however she did not see the rock and triped then she started to wail, "Nealy I gotts an owie," she cried as she showed her brother the little scrap

"Yes its cute that she wants to be like her big brother,". David replied to his wife when he heard his baby girl cry he went up running to her "Neal what happened?"

"It'll be fine am big girl," Emma stated proudly to her brother however she did not see the rock and triped then she started to wail, "Nealy I gotts an owie," she cried as she showed her brother the little scrap

"Yes its cute that she wants to be like her big brother,". David replied to his wife when he heard his baby girl cry he went up running to her "Neal what happened?"

Neal ran to her and sat down by her side "It's okay Emmy it okay!" He urged. When David came over Neal was relieved "Emmy feel Daddy got an owiee!"

Snow was close behind her husband searching her purse for a first aid kit she kept there. She can kneeling in front of Emma "Emmy it's okay, we'll get you all cleaned up"

"You did Good buddy," he ruffled his son's David was proud that his son was looking after  Emma even when Neal teased her he was always the first to try and calm her.

"Want mommy," Emma cried harder even tho both Neal and david were there to help her she wanted her mommy  to kiss her boo-boo.

when she saw her mommy she lifted her arm and showed her the little scrap in her elbow with tears roling down her checks."Kiss it better mommy?" She wante her mom to kis her boo-boo

Snow was quick to kiss her babies bobo and hug her close rocking her slightly "it's okay baby" she said. Snow wiped away Emma's tears and gave her plants of kisses before cleaning up the scrape and giving her a Wonder Woman band aid "There we go all better!"

"Mommy was I brave big girl or a crybaby?" She still had tears rolling down her eyes it didn't make sense she can take down a dragon but she can't handle a little fall what was wrong with her. " Uhm... mommy can you carry me please?" Emma was getting tired and she was sad that she got hurt.She didn't want her mother to know that she was tired otherwise her parents would make her sit on the stroller.

"Hey buddy did you check your sister's diaper, does she need a change and do you need to go potty?" David asked his son, he was concerned for both his children.

Snow kissed the side of Emma's head "You're always my big brave girl even when you do cry" she assured. "Aw yeah baby Mama's got you. Good thing we brought your stroller hm?" she teased gently tickling her girl's side

Neal shook his head 'I think Emmy all clean" he said "I don't gotta potty" he continued "Can we go feed the duckies?" he asked.

"Really mommy," Emma giggled and laughed at Snow tickling her, but she pouted at the idea of sitting in a stroller. "No want stroller want mommy," Emma whinned.

"Sure son lets go feed the ducks," David smiled at his son and let the way to the ducks.

"DUCKIES DUCKIES DUCKIES MOMMY," Emma yelled excitedly at the idea of seeing ducks and feeding them.

"Yes baby really" Snow con firmed kissing Emma's cheek. "Of course I'll carry you baby," She said tucking Emma close to her "Just in case Mama gets tired" she soothed kissing her blonde curls.

Neal bounced on his toes looking over at Emma and Snow "Mommy! Emmy we're gonna see the duckies"

Snow winced a little at Emma's shrieking but quickly dissolved into laughter at Emma's sudden change in mood at the mention of the ducks. "Yes babies we're going to see the ducks!"

"Okay mommy," Emma agreed  on the stroller she knew her mother would get tired but she was clingy to both her parents. Emma gave her mommy a wet kiss. The blonde has never felt so loved warm and fuzzy on the inside.

"Mommy duckies go moo- moo" Emma was just being silly now, She knew what a duck said.

"Hey son race you to the ducks," David challenged Neal sometimes David acted like a big kid too.

Snow giggled at her baby "No silly baby you know what sounds the duckies make" she said "What sound does a ducky make Emmy?" She asked. As she got Emma tucked into her stroller

Neal feeling like a big kid cause he got to lead the way with his daddy and got to run and didn't have to be in the stroller with the baby.

"Those silly boys" Snow said shanking her head "Are Daddy and bubba silly hm?" She asked Emma as she pushed her along

" Duckies go Quack Quack Quack mommy," Emma clapped her hands as she kept quacking, like the ducks she was so excited to see. "Daddy' s not a boy he a daddy but big bubba silly," Emma was starting to accept that the roles between her and Neal had changed.

Mommy can I feed the duckies too pwease? She asked  her thumb in her mouth thats why she was lisping.

"Come on Neal try and catch your old man," David teased his son. He was making sure Neal could keep up with him

Snow laughed at that "Daddy's still a boy just a big boy" she told her.

"I'm gonna beat you daddy!" Neal shouted as he caught up with him

"Yes baby you can food the duckies" Snow said as they arrived near the pond "But no thumbs let's get your paci okay?"

Neal giggled and jumped up on a near by bench "Someday can Emmy race us too?" he asked.

Snow giggled and helped Emma out of the stroller and onto the bench "Yes baby we're gonna feed the ducks" she said giving her some grain to feed the ducks

"She can race us when ever she wants as long as your mother says its okay," David answered his Son's question, Giving him a high-five.

Emma took the grain like the baby she had become she threw it wildly at the ducks to her this was a game. "Mommy talk to duckies." Emma was asking her mother to talk to the ducks . Emma had believed that Snow can talk the animals and understand them.

Neal looked to Emma and her babyish actions making him giggle a little not realizing he did pretty much the same thing. "Emmy wanna race us sometime!" He asked.

Snow giggled and bent down by the ducks giggling at her daughters antics "What's that ducky? Oh you think Emma's the prettiest little girl you've ever seen!? She is! Isn't she" she said acting along

"Not little, I a baby... I mean a big girl," Emma pouted and started to arguing with the ducks. "Mommy tell ducky am not little." She looked at Snow with a cute little pout. Emma started to quack at the ducks for no reason.

When Emma herd her brother she forgot about her feud with ducks then turned to her mommy, "Mommy can I wace with Dada and bubba pwease." She asked permission to race with her father and brother.

"So what do you say hon can our baby girl race with us," David asked his wife he didnt want to cause any problems with the family.

Neal giggled a little at Emma cause she was a baby even if she was bigger than him she still needed a bottle and he had a sippy cup, and she always potties in her diapers.

Snow giggled pretending to tell the duck off "That's right Mr. duck Emma day on thebpotty today she's a very big girl!" She smiled watching her children and husband "If you're very careful my love" she said she just wanted Emma to have some fun playing with her brother and father she knew David would keep her safe..that didn't keep her from staring him down

"Keep her safe" she said

"Always hon, oh and what about the bandit princess would she like to race with her family or is she afraid to lose to her two babies and her Mega awsome husband," David teased her wife after teasing her he went to set up the starting race

"Okay kids the starting line is the bench while run from it to the pond and back." David helped Emma get to the starting point. He helped Neal as well and he waited to see what his wife's decision would be.

"Am gonna win Nealy daddy," Emma was boasting and declaring victory before the race even began. Emma was exited that she got to race with her daddy and big brother. Something she very rarely got to do.

[wantedahero-blog]

A Briar Patch

It’d been a while since Cliff had actually done something. The way things ended hardly made it seem like it was worth going on, how could something so wonderful just be torn away? Her name was Briar, and it was because of he was a shell of a man. It was through no fault of her own, at least not that he could tell but things ended so abruptly there was never time to talk or figure out exactly what was going on. When it happened he couldn’t think of anything but her, all the time they’d spent together and all the places they’d been. If he was honest with himself he’d never really understood how things really got going between the two of them and he perpetually worried about messing it up. 

It all started one scorching hot summer day, in a parking lot of all places. Well, they were destined to meet at one point or another as their bands would be touring for nearly a year but the first impression is always a lasting one they say. Cliff had more than enough time cooped up in a tour bus after an eight hour ride fresh air was exactly what he needed, though social interaction wasn’t his strong suit and for that he’d been sure to bring his 3DS along to play Pokemon (as adults often do) in hopes of assuming others wouldn’t bug him while he was ‘busy’ playing and eating his candy.

Finding a nice shady spot on a curb planted himself and continued on his quest to become a pokemon master, tossing a piece of chocolate in his mouth between selecting moves. It wasn’t until he heard a hand rustling in the bag and a female voice asking him what he was playing that his attention was torn from his game. “Pokemon and those are-” he’d not been quite sure what to say, he’d never met this woman before and he ended up stumbling over his words and offering her some more candy, something he did with almost no one else. After a bit of rambling he watched her leave, she’d offered him candy and to play games so perhaps this tour wouldn’t turn out quite as awful as he’d first thought considering all the drama going into it.

The first few days were about as awkward as you’d expect, at least for him. Cliff was prone to rambling, stumbling over words, and overall just getting easily flustered when it came to the opposite sex. With Briar it was especially bad.

His hopes had faded quickly though, as he found a few stories online about her having a husband or being engaged or something silly like that. Moping around the entire day with one of his band mates trying to cheer him up as best she could. It wasn’t until the after party they really go the chance to talk, the lack of a ring on her finger was made apparent and she quickly dispelled any rumors while apologizing for not realizing he already had a girlfriend, the bandmate she’d seen him with most of the day before. 

“A girlfriend! Psh, no she’s like my brother. I mean sister, you get what I’m trying to say,” Cliff blurted out. They left the party together, going out to the parking lot with plates full of snacks they talked about their bands and the tour in general with him making sure the invite to play games on their bus was still open. “Of course! It’ll be nice being able to beat someone new,” she said with  a grin. That was probably the moment he realized she was something special, or that he just really liked the cookies they’d got for the party.

A few days later when the tour had stopped in San Diego he was invited to the zoo with her and a few others. He’d only just barely fallen asleep before he’d heard knocking on the hotel door and an excited drummer calling out for him from the other side. Groggily getting himself together Cliff answered the door, half awake before being told of all the fun things they’d be doing and seeing at the zoo only half realizing the rest had mysteriously ‘cancelled’ or bailed before they were in a car and on their way.

“Would you take a picture for us please?” He heard her ask an older couple excitedly. “Of course sweetheart, say cheese!” The woman said to the pair,  “you two remind us of when we were that age.” To which he felt his face grow a bit hot at the thought of them being called a couple, an idea that’d left even Briar a bit flustered before they had moved on to their tour of the wildlife.

It’d been a wonderful day, running around the park, grabbing each other’s hand to hurry and lead them off to the next cool thing they saw before their time together was over. For being just the two of them they’d certainly had their fill of fun, and he made sure to sneak into the gift shop quickly to make sure they remembered it. When he walked back out he handed Briar a koala bear. “Since you aren’t really allowed to cuddle a real one I thought this would be a good subsitute,” Clifford added with his signature goofy grin.

“S-so was this a date? Not that I’d mind if it was,” Briar made sure to bring up forcing him to compose himself long enough to get a coherent sentence out. “If you’d want it to be then I don’t see why not.” Cliff added, and after a moment of hesitation was greeted with a nod and a smile. “I would love for it to be a date.” She emphasized with a kiss on his cheek. The second they got back to the hotel he quickly found one of his bandmates, eager to tell the story ending with a simple “I think I have a girlfriend?”

This went on like that for a little while, a few dates later to arcades, theme parks, actual parks, and Cliff knew he was head over heels for this girl even if she did cheat when she played games. She was sweet, had put up with his rambling until he’d finally gotten comfortable around her and actually pulled through and shared her candy just like she promised. To be fair he wasn’t exactly a very difficult person to satisfy and it wasn’t long before he was trying to spend all day and night with her just because he wanted to be around her. 

Things had been great, the two almost seemed too good together as they covered each other’s short comings so well it felt almost like it was meant to be. When the tour reached her home town nearly a year later, they even found a stray puppy to adopt who would stay with her parents until they were finally done. As the tour had gone on the drama out side of  the pair had only grown, her band had gone through a few rough patches but finally found exactly what they needed to keep them going and together. Cliff on the other hand was not so lucky, things had gotten so bad he had announced this would be his final tour with the group as they were splitting up.

It wasn’t until they’d reached his hometown of Seattle he asked her to move in with him, knowing it’d be a rather big step but far better than scrambling on the last day of the tour to figure something out. Talking about their future and her wanting to go to college they found themselves a nice little place, nothing huge or extravagant but exactly what they needed.

As time went on she went to school, he stayed at home and worked. Cliff had picked up work as a voice actor, even going so far as landing a role on an Avengers cartoon which he was thrilled about until he heard he was playing Hawkeye, the worst Avenger. Between the voice acting jobs and the occasional work he got singing as a guest on tracks or working with other artists he couldn’t have been happier, especially not when he had the perfect woman living with him.

But things couldn’t last forever, as blissful as his life had seemed the demons of his past had to come up and haunt him once again. He’d done nothing wrong but the absolutely vile woman he still regretted dating was doing anything and everything she could to defile his name, before long it was all over he news and there were reporters calling and waiting outside the house as more and more information spilled out. As he did his best to fight off the claims against him the seeds of doubt were already sewn in Briar’s head, soon enough she announced she was going to stay with her parents for a bit while all this was going on. 

“Briar please don’t go, you know all this is isn’t true. I love you, there’s no way I’d jeopardize what we have!” Cliff begged and pleaded the entire time she was packing, all of her reasons were valid and while it seemed like she wanted to believe him the added stress of camera’s being constantly on the two of them once more was what finally pushed her over the edge and made her go, sending him into a pit he wasn’t quite sure he was ever going to climb out of.

It’d been years, he’d managed to fight off the slander thrown at him and done everything he could to make sure he was back in the public eye as a decent person. It probably helped the lying whore was in jail for what had happened when the truth was finally proven and even though he had prevailed he still never quite felt whole. He’d done his best to leave Briar alone, filling his time with booze and games like usual feeling as though the best part of him was gone because she felt she couldn’t trust him.

Six in the morning was an odd time for a phone call, at least for him considering even when he was working he rarely had anywhere to be until at least eleven. When he saw the name his heart raced and as he answered with a groggy hello a warm familiar voice rang through from the other end. It sounded like music to his ears but there was a strange crying in the background, and when he finally heard her tone his heart sank.

“Cliff? We need to talk.” 

[theonceoverthinker]

Marital Bliss? : Chapter 1 : A Cursed Life?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon a Time nor any of the characters, items, or settings.

New to my story and want to catch up? Start from the beginning here!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter! I’ve been writing like a mad woman! Between editing the older chapters, writing the newest one, planning out the future of the fic, watching (and rewatching) the actual show, and ultimately re-defining what I want to do with this story, Once Upon a Time has all but consumed my soul. Then again, it was kind of doing that before! XD

Please review and enjoy!!!!

                                             “A Cursed Life?”

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Robert Gold found that his days had two highlights.

The first was waking up.

Beep.

Beep.

Robert awoke with a contented sigh. His left cheek was covered from the mid-autumn chill by the guard of flesh at its side while his right cheek was protected, albeit less so, by locks that bordered on the line between brown and dirty blonde, but stayed just dark enough that they were classified by everyone as the former. A heartbeat drummed against his ear, and it belonged to someone who Robert could tell was clearly awake, but was just as clearly trying to feign it in some mad attempt to make him forget the very sound pulsing against his opposing ear. Robert was almost insulted to see such a ploy being considered the least bit credible. He recognized the distinction between his bedmate’s every movement at any given time of the day perfectly, whether it be a heartbeat or the way his fingers trailed down his arms.

Real convincing, Miles.

Robert opened his eyes to an unsurprising sight. He was sprawled on top of his husband Miles’ stomach, his head resting on the other man’s bare, hairy chest, with various other limbs tangled as the only remnants of a satisfying night together. Miles, despite his silent bargaining, was indeed no longer asleep. His eyes were shut, but the more vocal snores that he let out as he rested were no longer audible and now resembled what the raven-haired man merely believed his snores to sound like.

Beep.

Beep.

The urge to quiet the sounds of the beeping alarm clock on his nightstand were only matched by the consuming temptation to not move out of his and Miles’ warm, affection-fueled cocoon.

Beep.

Beep.

It’s not going to stop on it’s own, is it?

Looks like my decision’s been made for me…

With a groan, Robert untangled his right arm from his husband’s and hit the alarm clock, ending its cries. However, he barely found himself able to do so, for Miles pulled his arm back the instant their separation became evident.

“Bloody alarm clock,” Miles groaned groggily, his eyes fighting to stay shut. “There’s no way that it’s already seven. I swear, one blink of the eye ago it was still dark.” Robert chuckled. It had become one of his bedmate’s favorite pastimes to deny the absolute truth of the device that slept directly beside him.

“The clock never lies, Miles, and right now, it says it’s seven,” Robert said. He tried to pull himself off of Miles, but his husband was determined to steal more time, the threat of being late for work be damned because he simply refused to be parted from the man in his arms. A hand bunkered down around the small of Robert’s back and the top of his torso was sealed onto Miles’ ribs. “Someone’s feeling in a stubborn mood this morning,” he continued to comment.

“Damn right I am.”

Honestly though, while Robert may have teased about Miles’ reaction, he had no genuine complaints about staying in bed for a few extra minutes. They nights may have been on the verge of getting longer, but that didn’t stop them from feeling as short as they ever were. Compared to facing the too-bright, too-loud, and too-lonely outside world, staying here, in the arms of the one person on this Earth who sincerely and wholeheartedly wanted him was easily the more appealing choice.

So, the couple stayed in bed, keeping each other cozy and happy. Early on, Miles’ stub dropped from Robert’s shoulders, from what Robert assumed was discomfort. Robert’s right hand made its way to the stub, the reminder of the hand that should’ve been there, and simply held it. Stubble tickled his temple, and his forehead stretched; that told him of the smile born of nothing but pure bliss he had earned from his husband for the action. Robert knew the meaning behind the smile, and while it was appreciated, for his purposes, it was completely unnecessary. The hand that once sat upon the stub he held might not have been there, but Robert never saw his husband as any less of a man for it. After all, disabilities had been a common part of their relationship for as long as the two had even known each other.

For Miles, it was his missing hand. For Robert, it was his limp, which bound his movements to the will of a cane.

Miles McAyesty and Robert Gold had first met in the hospital, the juncture where tragedy had dropped them both off. Robert was the sole survivor of a run in with a drunk driver that had deprived him of both a wife and a son. Miles was just a fisherman who, while helping to bring in a net of recently caught seafood, had suffered a bite from a shark hidden in the net’s confines that had cost him his left hand. Fate brought them together as roommates in a hospital, and seemed to leave them in each other’s hands, just as they needed someone to understand their plights the most.

At first, Robert didn’t speak to Miles so much as observe him. The man had a way of making light of his situation to the droves of people that came in and visited him. At first, it made Robert’s eyes roll. The man had lost his hand, and there he was, joking and playing around as if it meant nothing!

It wasn’t until later that night, when visiting hours were over and Miles did start asking questions did Robert understand: The jokes had all been an act, both a coping mechanism and a way to brush off unwanted interlopers in one neat little package. However, whether it be the effect of a performance too well conducted or the simple ineptitude of the hospital’s staff, Miles’ grave seemed to be all but dug, or at least it would have had he not interfered. Referrals for everything from handymen to hotels started flying from Robert’s lips before he even knew it, but even as he was coming to terms with his simple acts of kindness, he wasn’t protesting them.

Miles did the same in kind for him, given the differences of respects for their cases. Most people in Storybrooke, despite their tepid histories with Robert, often described by the townspeople as the uptight landlord with an even tighter grip on his control of the town than his portly wallet, at least had the decency to offer condolences for his losses as they were visiting Miles, but none made a truly sincere effort to assuage his consuming grief. It was pity, and Robert was soon enough more inclined to dismiss his visitors than anything after the condolences, lying about wishing to sleep or get his affairs in order.

Miles, however, was different, and after receiving his much needed help, really talked with Robert, rather than just to him. He would ask about his son and wife, but not just about the accident, but about who they were as people. He asked about how Robert and Lara had fallen in love. He asked about the cartoons Oliver would watch with him. He gave Robert the nickname ‘Rob.’

At first, Robert was convinced it was just pity again. He answered the questions, and while he admitted that the questions succeeded in making him feel better than anyone or anything else had up to that point, he questioned whether Miles’ curiosity stemmed from a place of genuine curiosity, as a settlement of an unspoken debt between them for the information Robert had supplied, or even just as a way of fighting off boredom or further contemplations concerning his new situation. When Miles was discharged from the hospital the following evening, Robert was convinced that that this would be the last he would see of the man.

Surely, someone so popular and beloved by the town wouldn’t waste too much thought on him?

Imagine Robert’s surprise when Miles showed up to visit him the next day, staying from noon until almost ten that night. As soon as he saw Miles there, prepared to give up an entire day of his life just for him, only out of the desire for his company, did Robert discover that Miles was getting him to, while not move past, find hope that he could someday move forward from the incident that had caused him so much pain. Miles urged and convinced Robert to take occupational therapy with him, cheering him on each time Robert learned a new skill, and buying him a drink when he was having too much trouble accomplishing the task of the moment.

It wasn’t a one-way support system either. The two worked together to format Miles’ apartment to accommodate his lost hand, and made sure that everything he would need would be safe and accessible. In addition, Robert made sure that Miles wasn’t over exerting himself. His later husband had a bad habit of feeling insecure about his hand and the abilities that had been hindered with its removal. As much as Miles liked to jest often about his strengths even without the appendage, Robert knew there were just as many occurrences when Miles felt weaker and that he owed it to himself to compensate for the disability. They would appear during the times one would least expect. He would be bringing in groceries or tidying up a room and while the lamentation wouldn’t verbalize itself, it would be plain as day to Robert. Those were the moments that Robert was there for. He, not through pitying dime-a-dozen speeches or fake gestures of compassion, but through examples, a bit of creativity, and the shared knowledge of their similar plights, spent many a night assuring Miles that he had absolutely nothing to prove, and that he was still a whole man in every way, no matter what he did or didn’t do.

They began having dinner together a few times a week, becoming each other’s closest companions in what amounted to no time at all. After a year and a half, feeling that he was finally ready to move on from the loss of his Lara, Robert asked Miles on a date, which was met with far more excitement than Robert had anticipated. As one date turned to many, Miles made a drawer for himself in Robert’s house. Then, on the one-year anniversary of their first date, Miles proposed with a glorious band of gold. Robert’s “yes” had the older man lose any semblance of self-consciousness for the moment and practically jump into Miles’ arms for a kiss. Three months later, they were married, and Robert’s house became their home.

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It took five minutes before Miles finally gave in and opened his eyes, the color of the summertime ocean greeting Robert. Robert never ceased to be amazed at what a gorgeous and stark shade they were.

“Well, if I can say one good thing about getting up early,” Miles started, “it’s that I get to wake up to a very beautiful face.” Miles leaned in to the face in question, planting a soft, yet passion-filled kiss upon Robert’s lips, and he could tell in an instant that it encompassed a thank you for last night. Robert, unwilling to resist Miles’ charm, immediately met his husband’s lips with his own. Miles pressed his tongue to Robert’s lips, and Robert immediately opened his mouth in response. He put his disdain for morning breath to the side and elected to ignore it as his and Miles’ tongue danced.

“Good morning to you too,” Robert said as they finally parted, smiling. Robert caressed the back of Miles’ head. Miles’ smile grew and Robert continued to tickle the short black hairs, getting the grin to a point where Miles was showing off his teeth. Robert loved when he was able to bring that about. Miles, in turn, started swirling around locks of Robert’s hair with his fingers.

Robert leaned in, and Miles, clearly expecting another kiss, closed his eyes in anticipation. But, when Robert got close enough, he turned so that his lips were mere centimeters from Miles’ ear.

“Come on, dearie,” Robert whispered. He tapped his husband’s lap. “We have to get ready.” Robert smirked as his partner reopened his eyes. Albeit rolling his eyes, Miles conceded, and finally removed his arms from Robert’s backside.

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After two quick showers, two quick cups of coffee, and one more kiss that Robert could at least say he made an attempt to keep quick, he and Miles were out the door.

Miles was dropped off first at the docks. There, the S.S. Fairyweather rocked back and forth infinitely alongside the pier, welcoming the staff aboard for another day on the water. Robert reminded Miles to keep his jacket on while he working, and Miles agreed, though his reaction was more reminiscent of a child agreeing with a parent so they could be left alone. Robert rolled his eyes. He’d been on enough boats with Miles, as well as had to care for his sick husband enough times, to know that it could get blisteringly cold out on the sea, especially with winter slowly creeping up on them, getting closer with each passing day. Miles preferred to dress on the lighter side, often complaining about how hot it got in the midst of doing the heavy lifting. Robert didn’t think he was wrong, per se, but that when the temperatures were less than forty degrees, some more caution could stand to be implemented, even if that meant his comfort had to be compromised to a degree.

Robert’s next stop was to his home away from home, his shop. Just on the far side of town, sat Gold’s Pawn Shop. It was the where Robert spent most of his day, surrounded by goods traded in from just about everyone in Storybrooke since it first opened. Antiquities graced every wall and shelf, not to mention a great deal of the available counter space in both the shop itself and the personal office in the back that was hidden by a delicate curtain. Though it was always nice to settle himself on a chair and wait for business to present itself, Robert’s visit here today was a short one. The pawnbroker wasted no time with his typical morning routine, for he was keen on getting his paperwork in order so he could get started on his day.

Today, after all, was the rent day.

Once a month, Robert would go around to all of his properties in Storybrooke he owned and collect the rent. It was a big undertaking, given just how many buildings and plots of land he possessed, but Robert had gotten it down to a science to make sure he could accomplish it in one day, barring a few companies that paid more often.

Why scale down the collection period to only a single day, one may be inclined to ask?

It wasn’t that Robert didn’t enjoy collecting the rent. He definitely did. There was something to enjoy about flaunting his wealth and power in everyone’s face. His outward appearance hardly lent itself to be intimidating to the public, but what his body couldn’t do, his mind, influence, and checkbook could. Robert took pleasure in seeing the hearts of the shopkeepers stop, if only for the barest of seconds as he entered the room. The stoic tone some of Robert’s tenants had as they formally referred to him as “Mr. Gold” created a unique feeling of delight for him.

However, that power came with consequences. The townspeople, over the years, had come to think of Robert as a monster, and rent day did quite a bit to remind him of that. It came out in small ways, of course. No one in their right mind would outright curse out their landlord. However, tight words and whispers behind his back spoke volumes that outright confessions didn’t. It didn’t bother Robert, he argued against himself just as he did many times before. He wasn’t someone who needed excessive amounts of companionship. He didn’t want it anyways, or at least not enough to admit to anyone.

…Maybe he wanted it a little.

...Then again, last time he had had any level of admiration by this town, it been a disaster.

Robert had tried to be kinder in the past with the way he collected his payments, back when he was a greenhorn in the business. He attempted to take a more personal approach to building relationships with those he dealt with professionally and strived to work out reasonable plans for how others would give him his money. His efforts ended with a bottom line very far in the red. He had a large home, but one that’s size swallowed him whole, and the goodwill that he had supposedly earned turned out to be rather conditional when he explained his situation to his tenants, hoping for sympathy and instead receiving empty platitudes and hollow promises for assistance. After that, with morality earning him very little, Robert decided that a change was in order.

A new agreement was issued with very fine print, and Robert’s tenants, too blissful in their ignorance, failed to read the conditions. The payment plans he had worked on for those hard on their luck changed, and left quite a few of the borrowers now scrambling month-by-month to make payments on time, lest they face eviction. Robert himself started dressing sharper and acting more confidently. His tone became harsher when he was acting on business. The result this time was the attention of a woman who would one day be his wife, a child, and a bank account that had more figures than he knew what to do with. Even when he had lost Lara and Oliver, Robert’s sternness played its role in bringing he and Miles closer together. 

Because of his practices, Robert had everything he could ever want.

And all it had cost him was a significant level of his humanity.

Sometimes, despite logic proving his methods of life to be ultimately wiser, Robert wished he could be more like his husband.

It was no secret that Miles was easily the more likeable of the two, and Robert conceded that people had good reasons to believe so. For one thing, Miles didn’t go around once a month collecting their money like clockwork, and with a smile on his face to boot. For another, Robert was not someone who one would consider an understanding man. Should one of Robert’s clients be unable to make a payment on time, his usual response was not so much as to work with them, not anymore in any case, but to give them, what he deemed and described as, the ‘adequate pressure’ needed to assure that the mistake would be rectified. Often, this pressure involved confiscating assets integral to the client’s livelihood until the matter was resolved. While this definitely served the purpose of lowering delinquent payments from his clients as well as setting an example of the price of failure, it had an added bonus of making Robert almost universally loathed throughout Storybrooke.

To conclude, Miles was not as much of a, for lack of a better term, social pariah as Robert. When Robert entered a room, he was always looked upon as a force of intimidation, and whether his tenants responded to his presence with either fear or vitriol, the typical interactions were not very open for building meaningful relationships. They paid, and he left. That was the cycle that the landlord and his business lived and thrived by, though it did little to earn Robert any semblance of a social life outside of his husband.

No, Miles did none of those things. Miles was the charming fisherman. He was the man who always had a story or a joke to tell and could get on anyone’s good side in a matter of minutes. He was the one with a golden smile only matched by his golden tongue. When Miles talked to you, the only reason behind it was simply to see if you were well. Needless to say, when they got married, Miles’ friends made up the vast majority of their guest list for the reception.

Robert knew that Miles’ friends didn’t approve of the younger man’s choice of spouse. While none of them would ever say it outright to either of their faces, especially since Robert owned a good portion of their businesses and homes, it was clear that Robert was far from their first choice of a companion for the man. On its own, this was bad enough, but they showed their displeasure often, granted through more subtle means. Most to all of their interactions with Miles didn’t include Robert, and significantly more often than not, when Miles actually managed to convince Robert to join his friends and he in whatever plans they had, many of them would end up dropping out before the plans could even occur. However, if Miles noticed it, he never seemed to let it get to him.

“More for us,” he would say when his friends would all become occupied with their spouses, children, or jobs as opposed to going out for drinks on a Saturday night.

“Well, at least no one’s going to mind when we make out like teenagers on this couch,” he would jest when Whale and Leroy would complain about head and stomach aches mere hours before a football game would begin.

“Looks like you get a private gun show,” he would boast after “work stuff came up” for five people almost simultaneously on a beach day that was planned far too well in advance for such a drop-out to be deemed appropriate or even possible.

Just as Robert had been was when he was younger, Miles too was understanding, patient, and kind to all those he came across, and just like Robert, he suffered for it. His friends could hardly deal with Robert, even if it meant abandoning Miles.

The difference between Robert and Miles, something that didn’t take long for the former to take away from the latter at all was that these snubs and slight, as numerous as they were, never stopped Miles from continuing to give everyone he knew his best. He wasn’t overly trusting of course, but he helped where he thought he could. Sometimes, despite an unspoken agreement between the two that Miles would generally stay out of Robert’s businesses, his heart led to him asking for Robert to be merciful to his debtors. All too often, Robert, faced with pleas for sympathy from his husband would find that he did, in fact, have the moral capacity to follow the advice given.

Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve him. He’s much too good for me.

Robert sighed, continuing on with his day.

Well, I have him, deserving of his love or not. Couldn’t hurt to try and be a little better, if only for him.

The first few hours worth of stops on his route were as standard as they ever were. Payments would come in swiftly, and he’d be curtly encouraged to leave, sometimes not even subtly, as soon as the money was in his hands.

The next place Robert’s collection tour led him to was Granny’s. Robert parked his car down the road. There were a lot of properties he owned along Main Street, so he knew he’d be there for some time. The diner had people walking in, groups at a time, as he approached. Robert didn’t need to look at his watch to know that the lunch rush was approaching. He always scheduled his pickup to be around this time. Robert and Granny seldom saw eye-to-eye, and he didn’t pretend there wasn’t some enjoyment to be taken about landing another burden upon the grumpy elderly woman’s shoulders.

Robert examined the current state of the restaurant and its owner through the window. Granny stood in the midst of the mayhem, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich in another. After a moment, the chef made eye contact with him, and her eyes rolled.

Ordinarily, Robert would’ve walked into the restaurant without even a second thought.

It would’ve been as easy as the pie he guaranteed someone was ordering at that very moment.

But then Robert started thinking about Miles, and the conclusion he reached earlier.

Perhaps this would be step one towards being a little better.

Again, I guess it couldn’t hurt.

Just as Granny was about to call her granddaughter for help, he made a stopping motion with his hand, making his intentions known that he would come back later for the acquisition of his money.

Robert wasn’t sure what to expect. Would she give him another eye roll? Would she simply ignore him and go back to her regulars?

As it turned out, his kindness had bore some fruits.

Granny responded with a grateful nod and the barest beginnings of a smile before returning to serving her many customers.

It was a small gesture, but it was so rare to see anyone outside of Miles respond to him with anything that resembled kindness. It made the whole endeavor feel…worthwhile.

I have to admit, that went better than I thought it would.

The rest of Robert’s afternoon was rather uneventful. He continued on through the town. Riding the high of his experiment at the diner, he did attempt to engage in small talk as his money was prepared from some of the less hostile tenants. To some extent, it worked. A few answered the questions he asked, and a couple of them even went so far as to ask about himself and Miles.

Still, most followed the same procedure: They paid, and he left. Some included their own varieties of snark in an attempt to hide their fear as they handed Robert all manner and forms of money.

The last client of the day was particularly snippy, easily the hardest he had dealt with all day. She was a teenager in charge of giving him a check for the mortgage on her parent’s house, and had less than kind things to say about the struggle her parents faced every month thanks to him.

Under normal circumstances, Robert might have “suddenly needed” to spring a five percent rise in the minimum payments per month for “extra insurance,” as he often put it, or some other consequence of the kind, but he took a deep breath.

Would Miles do that?

No. No he wouldn’t, and you shouldn’t either. She’s just a child worried for her family.

Oliver would’ve done the same for you, even at her age.

That thought gave Robert cause for a pause. It didn’t happen often, and Robert wished that it would not happen at all, but on a rare occasion, a day would go by where he didn’t think of his son. Today, had it not been for that young girl, would had nearly been one of them.

Robert took his money politely excused himself, mentally muting anything else the girl had to say, and got into his car, simply sitting there as memories of a son who no longer lived flooded his mind.

Oliver. You would’ve been the finest young man to ever tread the streets of Storybrooke. You were too good for this world.

Halloween was approaching. Years ago, Robert would’ve been helping Oliver pick out a costume, caught between laughing as a little Dracula ran throughout the house and scolding the boy for endangering himself by doing so. He should’ve still been doing things with his boy, regardless of the passing years. Or at the very least, even without him around, Oliver should’ve been doing things, happily with groups of friends, or perhaps even a lover at this point.

It wasn’t fair.

Life just isn’t the same without you, and it never will be again.

Robert stayed in the car. He knew with a phone call, Miles would be by his side, but right now, he just wanted to ride this wave of grief out by itself. It wasn’t that Miles was a bad source of comfort, not at all. Miles had helped pull Robert up from a nearly-consuming depression and allowed for him to move forward. Right now though, Robert just wanted to fall back, and sometimes to do that, he just needed to be alone.

It took time, but after a while, Robert found himself able to put his grief into some degree of rest and make his way back to the house.

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Robert’s second highlight of the day was coming home from work.

The lights were on, signaling that Miles was already inside. He liked walking home from work most days, though with winter approaching, Robert would soon insist upon assisting him with the return trip too, and Miles would begrudgingly agree.

I swear, I don’t think he cares if he gets pneumonia.

When he opened the door, Miles was right there, waiting with a smile and a kiss, as he always did.

“Welcome home, love,” Miles murmured, loosening his lips from Robert’s before, going in for another. Breathing his husband in as they kissed, Robert was treated to traces of salt water, his husband’s natural musk, and just a hint of freshly poured rum.

“Good welcoming you came up with,” Robert returned.

“As if that’s all I prepared,” Miles said smiling. “I cooked your favorite tonight. Freshly caught and breaded cod.” Robert grinned, and his eyes lit up. Miles, as were all employees of the S.S. Fairyweather, offered some of the fish they caught in addition to their salary, and fortunately for Robert, Miles was one hell of a cook. “But wait! That’s not all,” Miles added. “I also made Spaghetti Alfredo with spinach, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, and asparagus,” he continued, seductively emphasizing every vegetable put into the pasta, much to Robert’s amusement. “Now what do you think,” he smirked.

Robert licked his lips. He was thinking quite a lot of things, both about the delicacies that were to be on his table and about the man who put them there.

If he keeps this up, I may just have to drag his ass to the bedroom before dinner is served.

Instead of verbalizing his answer, Robert opted to show it by immediately crashing their lips together. He didn’t understand how Miles did it, but he always managed to make Robert feel better during his worst days. Robert wanted to return that. He vowed that he would in many respects, over time, but right now, he could do so in a deep, fervent, and slightly rough kiss.

As they pulled back, Miles smirked at Robert.

“Am I the best husband or what?”

“Let’s just see if your bark is as good as your bite, love,” Robert playfully mocked as he led Miles by the stub into the kitchen.

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Robert swore that Miles should’ve become a chef.

He was honestly surprised he wasn’t the size of a bear, given how often he tore through his meals, tonight’s included.

One of these days, I’m going to sign him up for a cook-off.

The chef of the hour and Robert had finished Miles’ mouthwatering dinner, and as the last morsels of food on their plates began to digest, the couple turned their attention towards cleaning up the remnants. With not an ounce of salvageable sustenance left to put into Tupperware, Robert began handing Miles dishes, and Miles began to rinse and ready them for a trip into the dishwasher.

“Forgot to mention something earlier,” Miles said as he and Robert exchanged another plate. “Couple of the guys and I might grab a few pints at Granny’s next week for Halloween. Want in?”

Probably not the best idea, given that your friends hate me.

That will be a long project, even if Granny doesn’t hate me anymore.

Granny…

Granny’s.

Damn it.

Robert groaned. His last collection of the day had completely skipped his mind. Between thoughts of his son at the end of his workday, and Miles’ gestures as soon as he came home, he had completely forgotten about the rent that as still not in his grasp.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Miles reassured, raising his soapy hand and brace-clad stub as to make a surrendering motion.

“No! It’s not that,” Robert quickly exclaimed, raising a hand of his own. “I forgot to pick up the rent from Granny’s. She was in the middle of her lunch rush when I passed by, so I decided to go later. I forgot to collect it before I came home.” Robert sighed. “I better take care of it now, otherwise I’m going to forget again. I’m sorry about leaving you with the clean-”

“Stop,” Miles interrupted. “No apologies needed, love. Go take care of it.” He began holding Robert’s chin with his hand, the same gentle, understanding smile on his face that could make anyone fall in love with him that he always had.

I still can’t believe out of everyone in this world, he chose me. 

Robert could feel his cheeks grow red, and Miles smirked knowingly. He distracted himself from the growing blush on his face by playfully trying to pull away from Miles. “Go away! You’re getting soap all over me,” he whined. Miles let him go, but not before snatching a tender kiss that made Robert’s heart jump with delight.

“I love you,” Robert breathlessly whispered before they drew away.

“I love you too,” Miles returned. Robert cleaned his face off, and made his way outside the house.

As he got into his car and drove towards Granny’s, his last exchange with Miles still fresh in his mind, Robert couldn’t stop smiling.

The town still couldn’t stand him. Even with a lot of effort on his part, Robert was aware that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. He still had pain, both physical and emotional that he would have to deal with on a regular basis. However, to a large extent, Robert couldn’t find it in himself to hate his circumstances, for he knew that at the end of the day, he had the man of his dreams waiting for him at home, and that was more than enough for him.

Problems aside, his life was truly charmed.

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A/N: Editing this chapter gave me a lot to think about. The first time that I wrote it, it simply established the kind of lives that Rumple and Killian’s cursed counterpart were living. That’s still true, don’t get me wrong, but what editing this chapter really had me do was to explore the town of Storybrooke and make it real. I liked that. I also received some writing advice that’s really going to shape how I write going forward.

I’d love to get some feedback, so please give me your thoughts! Otherwise, see you next chapter!