#i think you forget this man was a cheater before daisy what makes you think he wouldn’t cheat on her too lmfao

[thomastair]

billy loved daisy more than camila let's be fr because that's the concept of soulmates and right person wrong time... he loved camila but he stayed for comfort and security and to be a good dad.. if daisy didn't struggle with addictions like him the tables would've turned really fast

bold of you to assume daisy would have stayed with him if he was the type of dude to leave camila when part of daisy’s story is her trying to find stability and self love. she would never have found that with billy because if he was the kind of guy that would leave his wife and kid then he’d be the kind of guy to leave daisy when someone else caught his attention. but that would never happen because that’s not how either of their characters are and you’re making things up. they’re both addicts and they’re written to be addicts and making up scenarios where they aren’t changes everything about the story for obvious reasons because it’s a Huge part of how they both navigate the world and how they form relationships with the people around them. and even if they weren’t addicts do you think that him becoming another version of his father by abandoning his wife and child would have been a fulfilling conclusion for him? do you seriously think either of them would have been happy?

[decayedflower]

Stranger II

⋆ gif is mine

Pairing: Yang Hongwon x Reader

Genre: Underground rapper!Hongwon, Barista!Reader | angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Don’t get attached. This was his number one rule. Attachment means getting hurt. Attachment means vulnerability. You are the only person you can trust. So how could she so easily sneak past and break the walls he had worked so hard to build around his heart when all she is, is a stranger?

Warnings: cussing, some angst, hamin being a noodle

A/N: Sorry this took forever to upload, life happens ya know? Next chapter should be more exciting as the ball gets rolling. Hope you guys enjoy :)

You told yourself that no matter how in love you were with someone, you could detach yourself from your emotions enough so that—should the day come—you could live your life without them.

Looking at yourself now, you admit you’re a little ashamed. You couldn’t stop bawling your eyes out for 2 weeks straight. You guess you didn’t do as good a job ‘detaching’ as you thought you did.

You mentally slap yourself. You once lived your life without him bitch, you can do it again. 

It was on a rainy Monday afternoon that you found yourself in bed—cheeto dust on your titties—marathon watching Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo. Curse Nam Joohyuk. How could a man be so goddamn perfect? He was handsome, funny, loving—and most certainly not a CHEATER. 

You sigh and decide that you should probably get up and shower before Hyeri comes home and sees your miserable state. You feel bad worrying her so much. She’s always been way too kind and selfless for her own good.

You grab a fresh set of pj’s and determinedly head to the bathroom. The least you could do was stop moping and try to clear your thoughts of him. For both your sakes.

Just as you finish that thought, you catch sight of the item sitting on top of your dresser. Your favorite hoodie. His hoodie. You scowl and toss it into the trash bin. If only all men were like Nam Joohyuk. The world would be a much more peaceful place.

“Sooo, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You know how Princess Peach is always getting her ass kidnapped?”

You laugh at the odd question. “I do recall the kidnapping of the Princess Peach ass, yes.”

“Well, it just hit me. Why doesn’t the bitch ever fight back? I mean,” Jin places a hand on his hip thoughtfully, “how is it that she manages to get kidnapped by the same dude every single time? She’s a princess. Shouldn’t she have high level security?”

“Huh. I never really thought about that.”

“How could you not! She has marshmallows for bodyguards. It’s outrageous.”

“Does it really matter?” you ask.

He sounds genuinely offended. “Of course it does. You ever see Daisy getting kidnapped?”

“Well, no but—“

“Besides, isn’t it a little ridiculous how there’s this expectation that Mario has to save her? I mean, he’s not even a prince or a knight, he’s a plumber! An italian plumber! The amount of disrespect is just astronomical considering the lengths he goes to—”

“Seokjin why are we talking about this?” You ask, baffled. You take a look at your workstation and head to the stockroom to get more large size cups. Jin trails behind you, obviously upset with your lack of interest in the conversation.

 “It’s a legitimate concern, Y/N. Someone needs to pay attention to these details and it is the duty of I, the consumer, to voice the—whoa whoa whoa, since when do we have oatmeal raisin cookies?!” He screeches mid-rant, staring at a pack of cookies he holds in his hand.

You whip around to have a look, not believing your ears. “What the fuck?”

It’s true. The box of oatmeal raisin cookies sits atop the third shelf, right next to the double chocolate chip cookies.

“The boss sent an email out on Sunday,” Yoongi stands at the doorway holding a box of promotional flyers. If it were possible, you swear tumbleweed would have made its way between the three of you with the silence that follows as you and Jin stare at each other blankly.

“Which,” Yoongi drawls out, “I guess neither of you read.” he states dryly, walking away.

“Who the hell likes oatmeal raisin?” Jin asks defensively. Personally, you couldn’t agree more. Oatmeal cookies on their own were tolerable—it was the raisin part that completely ruined the entire cookie.

“They’re Satan’s spawn,” he scowls, tossing the aforementioned cookie back in the box as if it had personally insulted him. You chuckle and shake your head, walking back to your station with the box of plastic cups.

You start stocking them back up on the counter, making sure it looks neat. 

“Hey Jin,” Yoongi calls out from the front of the store, “can you grab that window marker and write out the menu again? The rain washed some of it off.” He says, examining the missing bits of letters, nose scrunched in annoyance.

You could practically hear the way the older boy starts seething at Yoongi’s lack of use in honorifics. The tips of his ears flare a bright red, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“I’M SORRY, COME AGAIN?! I couldn’t hear you over the DISRESPECT.”

Seokjin takes great pride in being the oldest of the crew. He enjoys taking care of the others as if they were of his own blood, you included. He has a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor—but never overbearingly so—always exaggerating his facial expressions and reactions, which you personally find charming. Seokjin is also infamous for his constant dad jokes, the younger ones usually cringing at their cheesiness and have you bending over in laughter. (The other boys beg you to stop egging him on as it only fuels his desire to keep them going.) That being said, Jin is not someone who gets easily irritated. When it comes to certain things, he is just, well, a bit of a drama queen.

You stifle a laugh, watching as Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, very obviously regretting his choice of words. “Hyung, will you please go rewrite the menu outside?”

“Thank you! Can’t you just do that from the get go? I swear you kids are so ungrateful sometimes. I mean, you all seem to forget how I practically raised you brats—”

“Hyung, please get your ass outside or so help me I will go into that break room right now, clock out, take the longest nap of my damn life and just leave you two out here to die.” 

“Alright, alright,” he says, putting his hand up, “I’m going geez. What a drama queen.” He huffs his way to the entrance, shaking his head, marker in hand. “And you guys say I’m the dramatic one.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

Yoongi stands there looking up at the ceiling with his hands on both hips as if silently asking the heavens for a tiny shred of patience.

You snicker behind your hand. You swear hearing those two bicker is your daily source of serotonin. 

It’s 3 more hours into your shift when Hamin shows up at the front counter with his signature soft boy smile.

He first visited the cafe during the summer one day back when you had just been hired. The intense summer heat wave had him coming in search of some shelter from the sun and a drink to cool off. The Grind was promoting the seasonal summer drinks and naturally, as a new hire, you tried your best to advertise it. It was only your second day on the job and in your nervous state you sold him a drink that, to just your luck, wasn’t available that day. You apologized profusely afraid that he would turn out to be a Karen, but Hamin had been very sweet about it. He befriended you after that, making frequent visits to the Grind, declaring that he had found a hidden gem.

After talking to him some more you learned that Hamin had studied psychology for two years at a local college before he decided to drop out and pursue his musical career. Of course he didn’t tell you that last part up until a couple of weeks ago, so you had been under the impression that the reason he spent so many hours at the coffee shop was to study for his exams. You weren’t the type of person to pry into someone’s personal life unless they decided to tell you themselves so you never asked. Ever since Hongwon confessed to you that both he and Hamin were working towards becoming musicians, Hamin began to share more about himself to you. He figured that now that the cat was out of the bag, he could be more open with you. Prior to that day, you knew very little about Hamin’s personal life.

“Hey you! You’re back,” you beam. 

“Yeah, gotta grind,” he pats his bag for emphasis. “Ha! Grind...” he snorts suddenly. “Get it? Cause we’re at...” he gestures to the shop and laughs to himself. He looks goofy standing there in his bright lavender tie dye hoodie, a big contrast to the muted colors of the walls. His tall lean form stands out like a sore thumb. An Adidas baseball cap adorns his head but it’s so washed out you can’t even tell what color it is—or is supposed to be. 

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh come on, it was funny,” he says, leaning on the counter.

“It was funny the first couple times Jin said it when I just started working here,” You correct.

“You still laughed though,” he winks at you, making you laugh again. “Anyway,” he straightens up, “Can I get the usual, please?”

You grab a cup and start writing his name. “Just you this time?” 

“Nah, my idiot friend is coming but he’s gonna run late so I’ll just order ahead of him.” He sighs, reaching into his pocket in search of his wallet. “How much is it?” He asks, fumbling through a bunch of receipts and cards.

You wave him off. “On the house.”

“No way, I can—”

“Hamin, dude, relax. You do this every time. I keep telling you, discount: friend. Total: zero.” 

“You gotta let me pay every now and then. I don’t want your coworkers to think I keep coming here to leech off you…”

“Look, if you were really taking advantage of me, you wouldn’t keep disappearing on me for weeks at a time. Consider it an advance payment for when you finally let me hear a song of yours. ”

“Sorry…” He smiles sheepishly, “It’s a deal then. Thanks Y/N, you’re the best,” he grins. You flip your hair dramatically, playing along.

You make his drink and note that work is slow enough, so you head over to his table instead of calling him over.

You place his drink on the table, “so what’re you working on today?” He looks up and thanks you, taking a sip before he answers.

“A solo project. I don’t have anything now that’s worth listening to though…” He says dejectedly. Admittedly, he’s been going though somewhat of a writer's block. 

“That’s okay! I didn’t mean to pressure you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be glad to give it a listen if you’re still willing to let me. Good music also takes time, right?” You smile encouragingly.

Someone yells out your name before he’s able to respond. You turn at the sound, “Oh hey!” you exclaim when you see your roommate. You turn back to wish Hamin luck on his writing.

“Thanks for the lunch, Hyeri,” you pat your stuffed tummy in satisfaction. “I forgot to prep mine last night so I was honestly just gonna wait until I got home to eat,” you confess meekly.

She showed up during your shift planning to ask you what kind of food you were in the mood for so she could bring it to you, but Yoongi caught on and sent you on your lunch break so the two of you could eat together instead. Min Yoongi was a godsend. 

“I knew it! Y/N, you have to eat your meals! Do you know how detrimental it is to your health if you’re constantly working and skipping your meals?!” you cower as she scolds you. 

“I know…sorry. I just forgot...” you squeak.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I just worry about you,” she sighs, taking her seat again.

“And I’m so thankful!” you say quickly placing your hand on hers, “I’m sorry you’re always having to take care of me. I’ll work harder so that I don’t become a burden to you. I promise. I haven’t been myself these days but...just give me some time.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, “Hey. You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. You’re like a sister to me. And I would never put your emotions against you. You need time to heal and that’s okay. Take it at your pace. I will always look after you, no matter what. Okay?”

Your heart warms at her words. You were so grateful to have her for a best friend. You engulf her in a hug and look at the time. 

“I should head back. My break is just about over. Thank you for everything, Hyeri. Are you staying? I’ll make you a drink. On the house. You can study there?” you ask.

“Well, I was planning on going to my school’s library, but I guess I could use a drink…” She paused for a moment. “Is Jungkook working today?” She asks, hopeful. 

Her crush on your coworker was so amusing. “Unfortunately for you, not today, sorry.” She pouts cutely.

“I’ll make you a green matcha latte?”

“Pretty please.”

You giggle, “Okay, let’s head back then.” 

It was a good thing the two of you decided to eat at the chinese restaurant across the shop, so the walk isn’t long. You came here so often that the kind elderly woman who owned the restaurant had memorized your order. You couldn’t help it that their sweet and sour chicken was bomb as hell. What you would give for that recipe.

You’re internally groaning at the thought of having to go back into work when Hyeri stops in front of the entrance and lets out a low whistle. 

“Whoa, hey. Which one of your coworkers drives a damn motorcycle?!” She points to a sleek, graphite motorcycle parked on the curb, two cars away from yours. 

“Whoa. Uhh...no one, not that I’m aware of. Jin drives a Honda Civic and Yoongi ubers cause of car issues.” You shrug, opening the door. “Must be a customer’s.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s just me, but that thing is screaming big dick energy.” She says, following behind you. You laugh and smack her shoulder. 

“You say that but what if it’s some old bald dude that listens to metal?” You ask, leading her to a table farther in the back so she can study peacefully. 

“Well err...hopefully not. I’m just saying whoever rides that thing, I wouldn’t mind riding too. Hell, I could ride all night…” she trails off. You bury your embarrassed face in your hands and try to hold in your laughter so you don’t disturb the customers. 

“Oh my god. Stop talking. You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You point at a chair, “Sit here and I’ll bring your drink. Behave,” you warn playfully.

“Yes ma'am,” She winks and points shooter fingers at you. You laugh with a roll of your eyes, heading back to clock in. 

“You seem...distracted.” Hamin says, amusement lacing his words.

“Huh?” Hongwon turns at the accusation with wide eyes.

He sighs. “I mean,” he says crossing his arms, “ever since you got here 15 minutes ago, it’s like you keep looking around for...something.”

“So, you’re saying for the past 15 minutes you’ve been watching me like a creep?” He turns his attention back to the music software in front of him. “I told you I don’t swing that way.” he says, clicking random notes on the half-finished project.

Hamin snorts. “Don’t change the subject. What‘s got you so distracted dude?” He asks, slurping up the remains of his drink through his straw.

“The only distraction here is the eggplant sitting in front of me...” He trails off when you enter the coffee shop with your friend in tow. You’re laughing, giving her a smack on the shoulder playfully at a joke she tells you.

Hamin stops his obnoxious slurping when he follows his friend’s gaze. “Ohhhhh!” he grins.

“What?” He snaps. “No ohhhh. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything.” Hamin brings his hands up defensively. “Brain empty. No thoughts.” He taps the side of his head with his index finger. “Buuuttt if you were so interested you could’ve just asked, you know.”

“And what would I have asked exactly?” He asks with a tinge of annoyance.

Hamin tsks under his breath, exasperated. “Oh come on. I mean Y/N. You wanted to know if she was working. Am I right or am I right?”

“Why the hell would I wanna know that? I don’t even know her. ”

“Hongwon!” He’s caught off guard at the sound of your voice. He internally slams his own head against the table and forces a smile when you approach the table, avoiding Hamin’s gaze.

“Y/N, hey…”

“Hold on, you know each other already?” Hamin asks obnoxiously, “I only briefly mentioned you to him, but you already know his name!” Hongwon shoots daggers at the side of his head.

“Actually,” Hongwon says through gritted teeth, “we talked for a bit when I was on my way out the other day. It would have been rude of me to not introduce myself since she’s your friend.”

“He was even kind enough to walk with me on the way home even though it was raining. Thanks for that by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.”  Hamin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shit. The smile you give him is so sincere that he almost misses what you say completely.

“Really!” Hamin grins, clearly enjoying the situation. He pats his shorter friend’s head in mock endearment. “That’s so sweet of him! I mean, considering he lives in a completely opposite di—” Hongwon sends a swift kick to his shin underneath the table.

“Fuck!” Hamin rubs the spot and laughs through the gritted teeth. “I mean...that’s sweet of him considering he’s normally so shy.” He growls at Hongwon and plasters a smile when he looks back at you. You probably think they’re both lunatics.

“Right…” You laugh, unsure of what’s happening. “By the way, did you want a drink? I’ll make it for you.” You tell Hongwon.

“Oh, uh yeah I was just gonna get an americano. Let me just—” He starts to stand up and take out some cash when you stop him.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” He asks. “I don’t want to get you in trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I get free drinks and pastries since I work here.” You say.

“And she shares them with me because I’m her favorite customer. Right, Y/N?” Hamin wiggles his eyebrows at you. You laugh and pick up his empty cup.

“Is he always this much of a moron when he comes here?” Hongwon asks, scrunching his face in distaste. You laugh and ask them to wait while you bring them coffee. 

Hamin waits until you’re completely out of ear shot before he begins his interrogation. 

“You know, for a pair of strangers, you two seem very well acquainted.” He states, eyes narrowed.

Hongwon scoffs. “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but somehow you have a really punchable face.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“Oh shut up. I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I needed to.”

“‘I don’t even know her,’” Hamin mimics.

“I don’t know her. I know her name, that’s it. Not the same thing.”

“So you like her.”

He laughs. “What are you, five? How could I like her? I just met her, idiot.”

“You walked her home.” He says pointedly.

“Part way. I only did it because it was getting late and she’s your friend.”

“Ha! Since when do you care about my friends?”

“She’s a girl, it’s different. If something happened to her because I looked the other way, it’d be on my conscience.”

“You live in completely opposite directions.”

“So what?”

“You wouldn’t even do that for me.” Hamin deadpans.

“Yeah but you’re not a cute girl.” He shrugs, crossing his arms.

“So you think she’s cute!” He slams both hands onto the table, leaning forward to peer into Hongwon’s face accusingly. 

“So what? She is cute.” He shoves him away, “that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Hamin smirks and leans back in his seat.

“What?” He snaps.

“Nothing,” He says with a look on his face that screams everything but nothing.

Hongwon drags his hands over his face. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned that before,” he replies, appearing unbothered.

He’s lucky you decide to come back at that moment. He swears he’d have slapped the smile off his face had he been left alone with Hamin for a minute longer.

You set down the coffee and start to walk back to the counter. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you guys too much so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Y/N!” Hamin shifts in his seat to face you. “Are you busy Friday?” This puts Hongwon on alert.

 “Hmmm...no, I don’t think I have anything going on actually. Why what’s up?”

“You’ve been wanting to hear some of our music for a while now, right? Well,” he loops an arm around Hongwon’s shoulder, “guess who has a gig that night?”

“No way!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands. “Wait, but I thought you didn’t have any music that’s finished.” You frown.

“Well, it’s not that we don’t, I just kinda wanted you to hear our new stuff first. But now that I think about it, this is as good a time as any. If you’re interested, a friend of ours is hosting a party and he asked a couple of artists to play for him. It’s at the Henz Club.” 

“You mean that scary looking club in Mapo-gu?”

“Scary? I mean sure, some odd looking people hang around there, but they’re all pretty chill for the most part. Right Hongwon?” 

Hongwon slaps his arm away. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come but you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” He supplies. “We’d understand if—oof!”

“Nonsense!” Hamin butts in, shoving his elbow into Hongwon’s side. “You can bring your friend over there if you want, so you don’t have to worry about being alone.” He motions his head in the direction of Hyeri who—not so discreetly—pretends like she hasn’t been trying to make out what the three of you have been talking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Ah, but either way we won’t ditch you after the performance, I promise. How about it?”

Hongwon is still recovering from having the wind knocked out of his lungs and before he knows it, somehow you’re agreeing and Hamin is giving you the details. 

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to hear you guys.” You say cheerfully. 

“You should see this guy on stage,” Hamin gestures to Hongwon, “he really puts on a show. Like a true rockstar.”

 “You know, you saying that doesn’t make me feel good,” Hongwon says with a frown, sitting back in his chair defeatedly. 

 “Oh and don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.” He ignores him, “There’s always a lot of fangirls, especially for Hongwon. They literally come in swarms, it's crazy.”

“Oh my god. Stop. You’re so embarrassing.” He groans, looking away.

“Wow, you’re really hyping him up,” you laugh.

“Ignore him. He’s just saying whatever the hell he wants.” 

“No way, it’s really the truth.” He insists, folding his arms across his chest.

“Y/N! We need you in the back!” Yoongi calls out, his head poking out from the staff only door. 

“I gotta go. I guess I’ll see you guys on Friday!” You say, waving. “Coming!” You call out, following after your coworker.

Hamin smiles stupidly as you leave. “Isn’t she sweet!”

Hamin and Hongwon hang around at the café for a few more hours until they decide to grab a bite to eat. For the remainder of the time they spent working on their music, Hongwon had not uttered a single word. The most Hamin had gotten out of him was a “sure” when he suggested they get burgers before heading home.

He exits his car, watching as Hongwon removes his helmet to fix the mess it makes of his hair. 

Sighing deeply, Hamin leans against the side of his car, hitting the park button on his remote. “Come on, don’t be so cold. How long are you gonna give me the silent treatment for?” 

He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, dreading to ask but needing to know. “Are you really that pissed off because I invited her?”

Hongwon slips the hollow side of his helmet onto the handlebar and mimics Hamin, leaning against his motorcycle. “Depends,” he says, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket to light one up, “why’d you invite her?”

Hamin considers his answer carefully, shifting his weight onto the other leg. It’s obvious that Hongwon is already upset, so anything he says will probably get him angry anyway. “I was hoping maybe you guys could hit off,” he says at last, deciding to be honest.

In truth, Hongwon isn’t surprised to hear this—he actually suspected it—but it still pisses him off nonetheless. It wasn’t the first time Hamin tried setting him up with someone. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. This was something he had told him countless times and yet, he continues to pull stunts like this.

“I know you said you aren’t looking for a relationship,” Hamin continues when he proceeds to bring the cigarette to his lips without a reply, “but I just think you could at least talk to her and—“

“And then what? We fall in love, get married and ride off into the sunset?” He cuts him off abruptly.

“No, I just—“ he starts to say but stops when he can’t think of how to word it correctly.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Y/N went through a bad breakup, and so did I. You think maybe the two of us can find the comfort we couldn’t find with our previous relationships, in each other.” He pauses to take a drag of his cigarette. 

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that's a load of shit. This idea you have that love can just make me forget about all my trauma, is a load of shit.” Hamin flinches at the sudden aggression in his tone. This really didn’t come across the way he intended it to.

“Guess what, I’m fucked up Hamin!” He continues, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I have too many damn issues and I don’t need some chick to try to figure me out or fix me. I told you already, I’m happy with the way things are. I’m not gonna play into your stupid games just because you want to play fuckin’ cupid.” Hongwon scowls, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Hamin keeps his gaze on the ground, frustrated with how easily and accurately Hongwon is able to guess what he’s thinking. He didn’t realize how terrible it all sounded out loud. He racks his brain for something—anything—to say and argue that those aren’t his intentions, but Hongwon is speaking again before he’s able to do so successfully. 

“I don’t care if you invite her. Just don’t go expecting anything out of me.”

He nods his head weakly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, bro…” He says scratching his neck, “I’m not trying to find someone to fix you...” he trails off.

“It’s cool.” He sniffles, the cold air getting to him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Hamin is taken aback for a second, not expecting him to apologize. He kicks the floor with his sneaker, “S’cool.”

“You still hungry?” Hamin asks, afraid that their little spat would create unnecessary tension between them.

Hongwon tosses his cigarette onto the floor to put it out with his sneaker. “Fuckin’ starving.”

You went home together with Hyeri later that afternoon once your shift was over. It was always nice to go home when the sun was setting and the air felt cooler. You loved how quiet the city got, allowing you to simply be one with your thoughts. 

Unfortunately for you, today was not one of those days.

You release a sigh as you continue to pretend to not notice Hyeri’s constant fidgeting. “Hyeri, if you want to know so badly just ask already.”

She releases a giant breath as if she had been holding it this entire time. “Oh thank goodness because I felt like I was actually going to die if you didn’t say something soon,” she says grabbing your arm excitedly, like a puppy who was just called over by its owner. 

“What were you doing with those two hotties I’ve never seen before?” You couldn’t tell what made her more excited―the fact that she found them so attractive or the fact that you were talking to men other than your coworkers. “Is one of them single?” she stops walking and gasps, “Are they both single?!”

An older lady walking her Chihuahua gives you a scornful look as she passes the two of you and you bring your finger to your lips to shush Hyeri. “Sorry,” she says with a giggle, “but this is huge!”

You pull her along with you to cross the short crosswalk and to the steps of your apartment complex, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, you’ve seen Hamin before.” You say, slipping your house key into the lock and opening the door.

“Okay but, this time there was another guy too. And you guys talked for like 20 minutes! On your shift!” She says, removing her shoes quickly to stand in front of you excitedly. You stop untying your shoelaces to give her a look.

“He’s a friend I made through Hamin. Who is also just my friend,” You tell her slowly as if you were explaining it to a child but you can tell by her smile that she’s not listening. You sigh and slip your work shoes off, putting them in the hallway closet. Hyeri hovers behind you, not wanting to be too pushy but also too worked up to leave you alone.

You stand up straight and turn around. “Okay fine. Hamin invited me to this party,” this already has Hyeri clasping her hands over mouth, “he and his friend are playing a gig for a friend—”

She’s squealing and jumping around before you can finish your sentence. “And they want you there as their plus one! Oh my—”

“But I think Hamin knows about the breakup and he feels bad and that’s why he invited me,” you say quickly. Hyeri stops mid spin to give you an incredulous look. “I mean, they kind of saw the whole thing since it happened at work,” you say glumly.

Hyeri wraps her arms around you when she sees how you deflate at the reminder. “Hey, don’t make such a sad face. You guys have been friends for a while now, right? I haven’t met the guy but I’m sure he invited you because he wants you there and not because he pities you.”

“Sorry. I think I’ve been trying too hard not to think about it so all the negative thoughts are really hitting me now,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder. She always had such a comforting mom warmth to her.

She releases you and gives you a comforting smile. “Do you want to go?”

“Well,” you sit on your bed exhausted, “I actually didn’t know Hamin played music until recently. I’ve really been wanting to hear some of his stuff and apparently his friend does music too..”

“Girl, there’s your answer! Who says you have to spend your days sad and alone after a breakup? If you want to go, go.” She encourages you. She had a point. Although somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt guilty. When Hamin invited you, you were super stoked and set on going but now that you were really thinking about it, you couldn’t help but think of Jaewon.

“I can tell you’re overthinking this,” Hyeri says. “Don’t. You’re a free woman! Free from a man who took advantage of you and didn’t know how to treasure you. Do whatever the fuck you want because it’s no one’s business. It’s not like you’re planning to go sleep around.” She crosses her arms across her chest, “and even if you are guess what, it’s still no one’s business.” She says vehemently.

You pick at your nails and bite your lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

She squeals again and launches herself onto you. You land with an oof on your bed, her head barely missing yours by an arm hair. “Oh, one more thing though,” you manage to say from beneath her. “They kind of invited you too.”

Hyeri lifts herself up at this. She stares at you with wide eyes, “what do you mean?”

“I guess they saw us talking together and figured we were friends. Also, they caught you trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.” You tell her.

“Nooooooooooo,” she cries and runs to throw herself onto her bed face flat.

“It was the hiding behind an upside down textbook for me,” you snicker.

“Y/N, please I’m in the middle of dying of embarrassment.”

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #482: Mario and Friends React to Most of Them Losing in a Golf Game (SSBU)

Mario

Mario: (Running Around While Crying on Screen)

Falco: Wow.......I did not know our golden plumber boi here was that much of a sore loser.

Fox: (Already in Disbelief) I know, right? And on a simple Golf game of all things......

Luigi: (Turns to Mario While Smirking a bit Playfully) You got anything you wanna say about this, bro?

Mario: ('Sigh in Embarrassment') I really wish I didn't do all that...... Might've been on Live T.V. at one point.....

Peach: (Giggles Softly While Sitting Right Next to Mario)

Mario: (Turns and Raised an Eyebrow at His Princess/Girlfriend) And what seems to be so funny to you, your majesty?~

Peach: (Pokes at Mario's Cheek With a Few Giggles and Laughter) You, sweetie-pie!~ (Pulls Mario in for a Loving Hug) I almost forgot how adorable you were when you started running around like that~

Mario: (Blushes Even More) Peachhh!~ I already told you! I'm not cuuute!

Peach: (Snuggles onto Mario) And I keep telling you that you will always be my cute, sweet prince~ (Kisses All Over Mario's Face)

Mario: (Starts Getting Ticklish by Every Kiss He Gets) Momma M-Mia, Peach!~ That tickles!~ Come on!!~

Samus: (Already Got a Smirk on her Face) So much for trying to prove her wrong.

Daisy: All in favor of declaring Mario as the cute, sweet prince for now on, say 'Aye'!

Everyone: 'Aye'!!!

Luigi

Luigi: (On Screen) I'm a loser......

Luigi: I can't believe I actually did all of that. (Chuckles Lightly) Guess I was a pretty big loser at the time, huh?

Everyone immediately staring at Luigi in Silent.

Luigi: Uhhh......Guys?

Daisy: (Took a Deep Breath) Okay..... Luigi, honey, there's something very important we all wanna tell you right now.

Luigi: Really? What's that?

Daisy: Simple......Luigi.

Everyone: YOU ARE NOT A LOSER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dedede: And anyone who says otherwise, is gonna get hit in the head with a mallet!!!

Luigi: (Frowns a Little) You guys, you didn't have to tell me all of that. Really.

Daisy: (Hugs her man Very Lovingly) We know. We just wanna make sure you get memo. You know how much I hate hearing you talk bad about yourself, right?~

Luigi: (Smiles Softly While Having Daisy in his Arms) Of course I do, dear~ I'll do my best not to think that way anymore. Promise.

Daisy: Okay. (Snuggle onto Luigi's Embrace) I'll take your word for it. (Gives Luigi a Kiss on the Lips) I love you~

Luigi: I love you too, Daisy~

Peach

Peach: (Starts to Faint on Screen)

Dedede: (Laughs Wholeheartedly) I don't know about y'all, but that just might be the most accurate one yet!

Peach: (Glares at Dedede while Placing her Hands on her Hips) And what does that supposed to be?

Mario: Please don't take this the wrong, dear, but.....You do have the tendency to faint..... A lot.

Peach: (Gasps while Blushing) Why, I never!! (Crosses her Arms) I-I don't recall ever fainting once in this very mansion!!

Daisy: (Raised an Eyebrow at Peach) Oh really? Then how about the time you fainted over every tournament matches we watched together?

Peach: W-Well, it's not my fault the fights were getting intense as of late.....

Fox: What about most of the time all of watch a movie together.

Peach: Some movies have impressive and unpredictable twist in them. You can't fault me for reacting to them like that.....

Luigi: What about the time all the kids went missing?

Peach: You know how much I care for all of my babies!!!!

Bayonetta: Ooh. What about the time you accidentally saw me and Paulie in the sho-

Peach: (Blushes Bright Red) OKAY! OKAY! FINE!!! You all have proven your points quite enough today! Now could we please move on before I faint in embarrassment?!

Daisy: (Starts Snickering) Sure thing, cuz.

Falco: "Faint in Embarrassment".......(Turns to Fox) People do that?

Fox: (Shrugged) Probably.

Daisy

Daisy: (On Screen) Nonononono! You Clouts!!!

Bayonetta: Well, well. (Starts Smirking Playfully Towards Daisy) It looks someone's being a terrible sport here.

Samus: Another accurate depiction.

Daisy: ('Scoffs') Please. (Crosses her Arms) My sportsmanship isn't that bad.

Peach: Daisy. Sweetie. Ever since our friendship started to blossom, you would always get competitive to almost every sports and games we played. Even Cricket.

Daisy: ('Ughh') You're still not letting that one go?

Peach: No. Out of all the sports we played in our youth, why must you be so rough whenever we play cricket together?!

Daisy: (Rolled her Eyes) Come on, Peach. It's not that big of a deal. You do know it's technically a sport, right?

Peach: It's Cricket!! It's supposed to be a nice, relaxing game! Not a literal competition!

Daisy: Oh, and like you're the sane one when it comes of these sports games!!!

Samus: (Already Getting Annoyed) Alright, you two, knock off. (Turns to Daisy) Daisy, would you just admit that you're competitive already so we can move on?

Daisy: But I-

Samus: (Gives Daisy a Dark Glare)...........

Daisy: ('Sighs in Defeat') Okay. So maybe I am too competitive for my own good.....

Luigi: I still think it cute.

Daisy: (Pouts at Luigi While Blushing) You're just saying that to make me feel better, Weegie......

Luigi: W-Well, it's honest truth. (Hugs Daisy) You are adorable to me~.......It is making you feel better.....Right?

Daisy: ..................(Finally Starts Snuggling onto her man with a Cute Smile) It is, 'hon~

Yoshi

Yoshi: (Starts Falling Down Adorably on Screen)

Daisy: (Frowns Sadly) Awwwwwwwww~ My poor baby.......

Luigi: (Frowns Sadly as Well) He looks so sad when he's discouraged.....

Samus: Yeah......(Frowns a Little) It does look a bit heart wrenching now that I think about it.

Dedede: Ah there's nothing for y'all to be sad about here. I'm sure that boy has already moved on from the phase.

Luigi: I guess......(Sees Yoshi Making his Way Towards the Door) S-Son!!

Yoshi: Oh! Uh. (Turns to Luigi) Yeah, dad?

Luigi: I'm not sure if your mother and I told you this enough today but-

Daisy: (Already in Tears) Your mommy and daddy loves you so much, sweetheart!! Please don't ever forget that, okay?!!

Yoshi: (A bit Startled by his Mom's Sudden Outburst) Y-Yeah. Sure.....(Smiles a Little) I love you guys too-

Dark Pit: (Already Laughing Outside)

Yoshi: ('Sigh') If you guys will excuse me.....(Opens the Door) have a certain dark angel to pummel with water balloons. (Sprints Outside)

'Door Closed'

Daisy: Kick his ass, sweetie!!!

Palutena: Daisy! That's our son he's talking about.

Bayonetta: Wellllll.....In all fairness, our boi may have said something to Yoshi that he shouldn't have. Either that, or he just messing with him on a daily basis for....some reason.

Palutena: ('Sigh') I guess....But still....My baby.

Bayonetta: (Hugs Palutena Lovingly) I know, dear~ I know~

Donkey Kong

DK: (Throws a Giant Barrel on the Ground and Starts Slam his Two Fist Down in Anger on Screen)

Falco: You know, I dunno why, but I kinda had a feeling that the big guy would do something like that.

Everyone: (Nodding in Agreement) Yeah/True/Uh-huh.

Diddy Kong

Diddy: (Gets Angry and Starts Making a Scene on Screen)

Mario: Mama Mia..... I've never seen Diddy this upset before.....

Samus: Tell me about it.....It seems so surreal and everything.

Peach: (Frowns a Little) Yeah.....It makes me worried about him even more than it should.

Fox: Uh, your majesty. You do know this was all just a while ago, right?

Peach: I know. But you know me..... I'm always worried about my babies.

Daisy: (Place a hand on Peach's Shoulder) We all are, cuz. We are.

Wario

Wario: (Angrily Waves his Fist after Throwing a Random Giant Boulder at Something....Only to get Squashed by the same Boulder on Screen)

Luigi: Okay. This is something I gotta ask.....(Turns to Wario) How in the heck were you able to survive all of that?!!

Wario: ('Wahahaha!!') You forgot, 'cuz? This is me you losers are talking about here. (Shows off his Arm Muscles) I'm strong enough to survive everything!! ('Wahahaha!!!')

Dedede: (Rolled his Eyes) Yet you still lose against me in Death Battle.....

Wario: (Glares at Dedede) Ah shut up, cheater. That fan show was a fluke and you know it. (Starts Cracking his Knuckles) I can beat you in a real match right here, right now!

Dedede: (Glares Back at Wario) Boy.....You can try facing me all you want....(Slams his Mallet Down on the Floor) But you'll most certainly fail.

Peach: (Immediately Got Off of the Couch) That is enough, you two! We are all here to have a good time and enjoy ourselves here today, not to start fights. Both you calm yourselves right now, or I will not hesitate to kick you out of this living room. Do I make myself clear?

Dedede: Yes ma'am.......

Wario: (Walks Away) Whatever.........

Waluigi

Waluigi: (Slumps Down in Utter Defeat on Screen) Whyyyyy?

Fox: (Rolled his Eyes) Who else thinks this is how Waluigi reacted when he didn't get invited to the tournament?

Everyone: (Nodded in Agreement) Me/Yeah...../Definitely.

Dedede: The man always was a drama queen.

Peach: ('Sigh') Guys, come on. Don't you think you all are being a bit harsh on him here?

Samus: Yeah, but.....I mean, this IS Waluigi we're talking about here.....

Falco: (Shrugged) Pretty inevitable to not make a few remarks about him.

Peach: True.....But he has feelings, just like the rest of us.........I think.

Bowser

Bowser: (Slumps Down and Use his Fist to Pound the Ground in Utter Defeat on Screen)

Dedede: God-Damn. Even Bowser taking losing too seriously....

Bayonetta: (Glares at the Screen a Little) This is starting to get more ridiculous by the second........

Palutena: (Turns to her Girlfriend) You're.....Still not mad about what Bowser did last year, are you?

Bayonetta: (Immediately Starts Having Flashbacks About the Time She Starts Yelling at Bowser for being Lazy on her Simple Chores) Well....... You could say that I'm not entirely happy with him right now..... Not one bit.

Samus: (Whispers in Palutena's Ear) Did something happened between those two or.......

Palutena: (Whispers back to Samus) It's a long story......

Bowser Jr.

Bowser Jr: (Starts Crying on Screen)

Peach: (Frowns Sadly While Placing her Hand on her Chest) ......................

Mario: (Turns to Peach) Peach.....Is everything okay?

Peach: ('Sighs Sadly')......I still feel terrible about how I treated Junior and the his siblings over the years.....

Mario: (Gently Holds Both of Peach's Hands) Those are all in the past. You have all the chance in world now to make it up to them.

Peach: I know. I'm just..... Really scared of messing things up with them, you know?

Mario: (Gently Squeezes Peach's Hands Reassuringly with a Smile) Hey. I know it can be scary, but I still believe you have what it takes to make things right. You are a "Certified Mom" in this Mansion after all.

Peach: (Hugs Mario Lovingly While Being Determined) You're right, Mario. I won't give up on any them. Not now or ever! Thank you so much, dear~

Mario: (Hugs Peach Back) You're always welcome, Peach.

Boo

Boo: (Rolls Around on the Ground in Sadness on Screen)

Dedede: (Confused) Wait a minute. How come that Boo doesn't go through underground or whatever?

Luigi: (Shrugged) Maybe it has something to do with his emotions. It does seems too sad to do anything right now.

Dedede: Yeah, maybe.

Shadow Mario

Shadow Mario: (Trips on the Ground and Sulks on Screen)

Peach: (Whispers to Mario) Hey, Mario, were you able to figure out who Shadow Mario really was after the tourney was over?

Mario: Not exactly. There was no trace of him anywhere....

Peach: Well..... Whoever that person is, I hope they're safe out there.

Mario: Yeah......

Petey Piranha

Petey: (Vomits Goop on the Ground While Falling Down on Screen)

Samus: (Eyes Widened in Disgusted) Please don't tell me that was literal vomit he spat out just now......

Mario: It's not vomit. It's just a mixture of mud and goop. (Rubs the Back of his Head Back and Forth) He...... Usually spit a puddle of them out whenever he's in a mood......

Everyone stares at Mario in complete silence.

Mario: I faced him back in Bianco Hills. He's.......a handful to faced to say the least........

Reaction Over

Mario: So? What do you guys think?

Fox: It was....... Something......

Bayonetta: Pretty Interesting, if you ask me.

Samus: (Shrugged) Sort of a learning experience.

Dedede: You know, I'm just gonna come out and say it. Y'all took golf wayyyyyyyyyy too seriously in this one.

Falco: The king's right. No one should take it that seriously. Not even us.

Daisy: Yeah......(Giggles Softly) We were pretty out there, aren't we?

Peach: (Smiles Softly) I'd say so. I'm just glad we were all able to share these strange, wonderful memories with all of you today.

Palutena: (Smiles Softly) We're all glad too in a way. And who knows? Maybe this game was a life learning lesson for you guys be more humble and sportsmen-like.

Luigi: (Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Ehhhhhhh.....

Dedede: (Raised an Eyebrow) Y'all did learn a lesson about it after Toadstool Tour was over with, right?

Luigi: ('Sigh') Let's just say our golf journey afterwards was..... outlandish to say the least.....

@keyenuta

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@luigifan00001

@ma-lemons

@ink-correctsmashbrosbloo

@albion-93

[midnight-circus]

bad girls go to vegas

At one of the largest green-flocked tables, one of the Seven Cat’s regulars is busy winning money he doesn’t need. It is his third casino of the night, and this time he intends on breaking big.

Poker, of course. He is briefly lured by the sweet simplicity of blackjack and wastes a little time at the polished handles of the bandits, but his talents lie in folds and flushes. He gambles his takings back into the game with no pause for thought, playing with an air of apologetic self-deprecation, as though he can hardly believe his own good fortune. He eases the sting of the losses and eschews his own wins with incredulity, vouching for himself as a poor player, really, the cards are just honouring him tonight, and it is in this manner that René Chevalier steady lines his temporary bank account.

He bids yet another player goodnight and thank you as they leave (empty hands, empty wallet), offering a last, effusive apology for his uncanny beginner’s luck, and the black Aces that line his pockets go unnoticed. It is a risky game to play – cheaters are vilified nowhere moreso than Las Vegas – but his singular situation means he has nothing to fear. What danger do large bouncers in black suits signify for a man in his position?

Four hundred years ago, he turned a hunting tactic into a gambling ruse, and he has enjoyed a comfortable life ever since. Foresight is terribly useful on the heels of panicked prey – predicting a left turn or a right could be the difference between blood and hunger – but as it happens, it’s also extremely handy when sitting opposite a croupier. He watches his opponents make their moves seconds before the thought has even occurred in their minds, and he manipulates his own (with the help of the cards in his pocket) to out-manoeuvre them.

Is it cheating?

René, as he slips an Ace into his royal flush with effortless sleight-of-hand, would posit it as strategy.

And really, he doesn’t feel any guilt. These people – draped in jewels and Rolexes and mulberry silks – can afford to lose a couple grand each to a handsome stranger who will take it from them with charming apologies, and besides, it’s not as though he keeps it all to himself. Some he gambles back in, and then the rest of it is spent on booze and snow and expensive accommodation, so it all ends up back in the economy one way or another anyway.

A Kitten sashays past the table, placing her hands on his shoulders as she goes and kissing his cheek; he plucks a cat-eared band off her head and slips it over his own dark, tousled curls, winking as she slaps his arm playfully and leaves him to it – if there’s one thing René does not need, its encouragement to spend more money.

So he wiles away the next few hours – the sun sets outside and the sky turns the dull, hazy yellow of an eternal Vegas twilight, lifting an arcing dome of light pollution above the city’s head. By the time he is finished, extracting himself from the game and walking away from the table in the wake of handshakes and good-natured ‘I’ll-get-you-next-time’ threats, he is almost fifty grand richer.

It won’t last for long, but perhaps he’ll hold onto it tonight.

He moves through the grand hall with graceful fluidity, wending his way through diamonds and furs, gently steering around patrons with a hand to their shoulder, their elbow, the small of their back. Many of them know him, and the ones that don’t assume he is worth knowing; the very same phenomenon that warns others of his ilk away from him lures humans close to his side, and it is more than just a wealth of charisma.

Yet another modified hunting technique, of course – pheromones drawing flesh and blood and beating hearts to him like moths to flames. It’s simpler to stalk a prey animal when it thinks it has nothing to fear, and even simpler when they come flocking like doves, but he is not hunting tonight. Hunger curls in his chest like a gaping wound, the sharp ache of starvation never far away, but he can forgo for a little while yet.

He only has three more marks left on his license, after all, and it is barely even July. He is expecting a busy summer.

So he leaves the crowds behind and steps into an elevator, manned by a silent, slick-haired man who glances at the sleek black card René produces between two fingers and nods his admittance; classic in build, lined with gilded mirrors and red flocking on the wall inside, but entirely modern in its silence and fluidity as it glides him a floor up and brings him to berth in an élite upstairs bar.

His name is on the VIP list at the Seven Cats – all seven of them, in fact, and that little black card in his pocket vouches silently for his worth. His own booth, free booze, a suite if he requires it, and any number of pleasant little perks that he need only ask for. The staff know him. The girls trust him. There are things he can get away with – the odd line here and there on a sleek black bar, for example, or a croupier who chooses to look the other way for one brief moment – that VIP allows for, and for that reason he is quite willing to spend enough to keep it.

So he sits now in gilded exclusivity – a mezzanine balcony lavishly decorated in a drench of red and gold and deep mahogany, providing a lofted view of the casino below, serviced with its own bar and sequestered from the noise of rabble by a vast glass window; the lights are soft and low, little haloes of amber around the heads of Edison bulbs fashionably scattered around the bar. He is nursing an exquisitely-made martini and pondering whether to top up the next with espresso; his Saint Laurent suit is carefully rumpled, the collar of his shirt open at his throat in an effective display of somnolent contentment. The Cats have the feel of the early 20th century with all the mod-cons of the 21st, and René submerges himself in it – of all the years and decades and centuries he has lived, he holds a special fondness for only a few, and he harks back to the 1920s with wistfulness.

By God, he misses jazz.

It is whilst he is dwelling on this swell of nostalgia that a ripple of blue silk and white furs cascades elegantly into the barstool beside him, settling itself into the icy milk-and-honey façade of a familiar face – Sylvia Rothschilde, socialite of unspecified age and (she insists each time he sees her) newfound debutante, draped in form-clinging charmeuse of a pale periwinkle.

René lights up a devastating smile.

“Mme. Rothschilde! My heart, my soul, my favourite.” He kisses the back of her silk glove; she tuts and bats him away.

“Don’t be a rogue,” she scolds. Her faux anger is belied by a vulpine, rouge-lipped smile. “And where have you been, René Chevalier? There you were last summer, promising to make an honest woman of me, and then right back to New Orleans you went! You made quite the little Daisy Buchanan out of me.” She waves a delicate hand at the bartender, who brings her a margarita without a word; she takes it and hides her smile in its salt-crusted rim. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Ah, Sylvie, you know me,” cajoles René, covering her hand with his. “I’ll say anything in the spotlight of a pretty face.”

“Oh, do shut up, you wastrel,” she scoffs. “Well, fortunately for you, it never would have worked anyway – alas, a girl just can’t get hold of two marriage certificates these days, and I’m afraid you did come in second place.” The frosted diamond on her ring finger glitters golden in the lamplight.

“Not to sound like a tourist, darling, but we are in Vegas.”

“Don’t remind me.” She rolls her blue eyes to the ceiling. “I was promised the Maldives this July, and yet here we are again. If we don’t go in September, I shall scream.”

“Say the word, Sylvie. You, me, a private jet -”

“And at least four other men, none of whom have an interest in me.” She licks a grain of salt from her lip. “I know you, sweetheart. A few more of those martinis and I pity that poor bartender.”

The bartender, polishing glasses behind them, allows himself a smile. The atmosphere is light and pleasant – for now, they are the only two patrons up here, and it is easy to imagine they are privately ensconced. René allows himself to lapse into a comfortable silence, and for a little while at least, he can try to forget the gnawing, aching, crushing hunger that roils ceaselessly in the pit of his stomach. Drowning it in alcohol does not work and never has, but it does help the time pass – it is whilst the bartender is filling his glass for the third time that Sylvia breaks the lull.

“Now then, René,” she says, nestling close to his side with a hand held to her diamond-studded neck and a teasing smile curling across her lips. “To business. Rumour tells me you quite cleared the tables down there tonight. I must say, you’ve been at the whim of ‘beginner’s luck’ for quite some time now. I’ve seen you up and down the strip since I started visiting, and when was that – three years ago now?” She tips him the shadow of a wink. “At what point are you going to confess?”

“Sylvie, mon cherie, a confession suggests I must have something terrible to confess, and it wounds me that you could think I’d hide things from you, my darling.” He swivels on the bar stool to face her, lifting his martini to touch the rim to her glass. “But alright, I admit – perhaps I should finally promote myself from beginner to amateur.”

Her laugh is like champagne on ice.

“You’re a wonderful liar, René,” she says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I have a little theory. You’re Louisiana’s household name in the professional game. Their secret weapon at the tables. You have a whole double life playing out in New Orleans, and you come here at the end of each season to make fools of the rabble with falsehoods about ‘beginner’s luck’. Tell me I’m wrong.”

René puts a hand to his heart, reeling back on his seat.

“Large fishes, small ponds, mademoiselle.” His wounded expression gives way to a dazzling smile. “You know I’m a terrible exhibitionist, and besides, the proprietor hasn’t had me thrown out yet.”

They chime glasses once again and sip in momentary silence, watching the casino roll beneath them; the singing of slot machines and the muffled roars of losses and wins batters at the far side of the glass. The bartender returns, a crisp white towelette slung over his starched shoulder, and he refills René’s glass yet again without question or comment. René mouths a thank you, and slips a $50 into his waistcoat pocket. It pays to keep people sweet.

“He’s floating around tonight, you know,” Sylvia says suddenly, gazing out at the crowd neatly partitioned from them. “Mr. Fairfax.” She says the name with a faux shiver, her voice skipping down an octave. The stem of the margarita glass rolls between her fingers. “You’ve met him, I assume?”

“Seen him,” says René, listening with new interest now. He has been trying to get on some sort of terms with the patron of the Cats for several months, without a great deal of success outside a brief glimpse or two. How much money must a man spend? “Haven’t had the pleasure of speaking yet. I assume pleasure is the right word?” He claps a hand to his chest again, as though struck by sudden horror. “Tell me he’s not another Trump, Sylvie, my heart couldn’t bear it.”

Sylvia smiles primly around the rim of her glass, suddenly coquettish. She tilts her slim wrist to regard the gilded face of a Tiffany watch, and pats René on the arm.

“Must go, sweetheart, Forrest arranged reservations for us at nine at Robuchon and I’m already ten minutes late.” She leans in once again, brushing Givenchy-painted lips against his cheek. “But I promise you, he’s certainly no Trump. Tata, darling.”

“Bonne nuit, chérie.” He watches her walk away, because to be fair she does it very deliberately, and then he returns his gaze to the grand hall below the curve of the window. It is a sea of black tuxedos, studded here and there with glittering jewel-toned dresses – this is not the common-or-garden Vegas of the tourist traps. Admittance to the Cats requires the level of financial security that renders carrying cash obsolete – here, the elite gamble directly out of offshore banks, and when they run dry there they wager assets and equity. René has neither – paper trails, you know – but for now until the end of summer he is a loyal customer of the Bank of Nevada; when the season is over, the account will close without comment, employees will forget his name and he will return to the bright swarm of Louisiana for the winter. In a way, it’s the same life he’s lived since his conception (when was that? He can’t remember now) – the world has updated around him, technology has taken leaps and bounds he could never had predicted, but he and his habits have remained greatly unchanged.

But he eats less now, though.

The hunger curls vice-like in his stomach, writhing and twisting like something living and dying all at once.

He swallows the last of his fifth martini, and asks for a bottle of absinthe.

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Love Like Lava 18

Notes: As always, thanks to my fantastic editors Drucilla and Blueshifted! They worked extra hard on this last batch, so give 'em some praise.

While many things changed about this story once it came into development, the climax never did, as it was something I had envisioned for years and I'm glad it's finally out there. But hang on, it's not QUITE done yet - don't forget to read the epilogue!

Summary: As Goofy takes to the track, Minnie is forced to choose between her love for mortals and her love for Mickey. Were they only born to suffer in sadness? Or can they both find their purpose and take control of their destinies?

Goofy thought he'd be far more nervous than he actually was when the big day arrived, but perhaps knowing he was going to be nervous made him less anxious about the whole thing. Yesterday Gyro had been struck by inspiration and had vanished from sight in order to work on something. Since then, Goofy and Agalma hadn't seen him and now it was mere minutes before Goofy would be called to join the others out in the arena. At the moment, he was brushing Little Helper's mane, figuring that his partner should look his best. Agalma was putting a last minute paint job on the cart, mostly as an excuse to practice writing. It was rather impressive that she spelled “Pygmalion” right on the first try, and she was so proud of this feat that now she was writing it all over the cart.

As she was going for Pygmalion #5, Goofy glanced over at her and spoke gently. “Say, Agalma?”

She paused and looked over, the “Py” trailing downward. “Yes, Goofy?”

“You remember why I agreed to the race in the first place?”

She nodded. “We need the money, because of me.”

“Yeah, but...” He hesitated for half a moment, thumbing the brush. “I was thinkin' – well, wonderin', if you'd be all right with it... Maybe we use it in a different way. After we split our fair shares with Gyro and all.”

Intrigued, Agalma stood up tall, not caring that the paint brush was dripping black on her white robes. “What do you mean?”

Goofy gulped – funny, saying this was making him more shaky than the dangerous race that was to come – and spoke as slowly as he could, not wanting his dialect to ruin what he was about to say. “See, uh, I was thinkin' long and hard about this, about my life and yours. I never wanted to leave my home town, 'cause it was like leaving Millie behind... and for you, there's still so much of the world you don't even know about. But maybe things shouldn't stay that way. Maybe... if I saw more of the world, I could make even better statues, and be a better fella. And you could... you could find out more about what you like, and what you don't like, and everything else you can be.” Ignoring the skittish trembling going through his body, he held up Agalma's hand, getting paint on his gloves. “And I'd really like to see the kind of person you are. I want to know more about you, Agalma...” He began to lift his eyes to meet hers. “...If that's okay with you.”

Agalma couldn't understand why Goofy was looking like he was going to fall apart at the seams. Everything he said sounded wonderful. She rested her own cheek in her hand, curious. “You know, I'm starting to think I don't know everything about you either, Goofy. Maybe I can learn more about you too.”

Goofy's eyes widened, and he clicked his heels together in delight. “You mean it? You really wanna travel the world with me? All over and back around? You and me?”

“Yes, I think I'd like that very much.” Agala smiled warmly, shaking Goofy's hand up and down to emphasize her agreement. “There's a lot of things we can both learn for the first time! I can feel smart, you can feel smart, and we can make each other happy.” What lay ahead out in the world out there? Those mystical things called oceans? Those magical places called forests? New languages, new clothes, new experiences, and new sides of herself to discover. Who wouldn't want to take that chance? And with Goofy at her side, she'd have every question answered. He'd keep her safe, he'd keep her fed, and he'd keep her happy. It wouldn't even be difficult, because when he was happy, so was she. Yet any further daydreams were put on hold as she understood that none of this was a guarantee. “Oh,” she said, troubled. “But if you don't win the race, does that mean we can't do it?”

It was a very real possibility, and Goofy almost answered her that yes, there was a good chance this dream would stay a fantasy. But as he looked at their hands, fingers intertwined and warm, an unusual feeling was coursing through his body, one that he was so unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. He was confident in himself. “I will win,” he said in a near whisper, but when he said it again, it was loud and hard. “I'm gunna win! I am absolutely, positively, definitely gunna win!” He pulled in Agalma's hand, surprising her with his strength. “I am, I am, I am! Little Helper and me, we'll do whatever it takes! And with all of our friends watching me, there's no way I can lose! With Minnie, Daisy, Mickey, Donald, Gyro, and... and... and you... with you watching me-” A gulp before continuing, yet never faltering. “With you watching me, I know I'll win!”

Normally Agalma would've asked how her watching him affected the race in any way, but the sincerity of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the tight squeeze of his hand was making her body react in a truly bizarre way. He'd never looked at her that way, never spoke of her this way – he'd never been so courageous. Heat flooded her cheeks, and Agalma lost her breath. For once, it was her that stumbled for proper words. “G...G..Goofy, I th-think there's something wrong with me!”

“Huh?” His bravado faltered, replaced with intense concern. “W-whaddya mean, what is it?”

“Something's going on with my heart!” Agalma exclaimed with worry, grabbing Goofy's hand and pushing it into her chest – so he could feel her rapid heartbeat - she'd ask at a later time why this made him go redder than an apple. “It's never gone that fast before! What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“Uh,” Goofy said, unable to offer any better explanation. “Uhhh.”

“SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME I MADE IT IN TIME!” a familiar voice shouted nearby, heading right towards the blushing buffoons. Gyro was carrying a large, full sack on his shoulder, and judging from how out of breath he was, he'd been running to find Goofy as fast as possible. That or he was out of shape. Both were plausible. “Oh, Goofy, thank goodness! I was so worried I'd miss you, and just when I finished my inventions! You...” he trailed off, only now noticing where Goofy's hand was on Agalma's body. He glanced at both dogs back and forth. “...Did I interrupt something?”

Goofy jumped a foot, whipping his hand back, and haphazardly struggled for a proper explanation of what Gyro ran into, although not even the best linguist could have understood him through all the stuttering and stammering. Agalma continuously rubbed her chest, still confused as to why Goofy had made her heart flutter. Gyro decided it was best he not inquire. “Oookay! Anyway, Goofy! The other day, when you pointed out my possible design for an underwater helmet, I knew what to do! All this time I've been thinking of how to improve the chariot, but never how to help you, Goofy, my friend!” He plopped the sack on the floor and began to dig through it. “Since you're my friend, and you're going up against notorious cheaters, I want to keep you safe! So I came up with these safety shields!”

First was a helmet, but not the glorified plated version a soldier wore into battle. This one was circular, better fitted for Goofy's dome, with a strap under the chin to keep it in place. Then came pads to stuff under Goofy's robes right on top of his shoulders, comfortable but also firm, though they did make him look slightly silly. Finally there were soft pads stuffed with cloth, made to cover Goofy's elbows and knees. Once everything had been placed on, Gyro slapped his hands together, pleased that it had all fit to a T. “There! With all of these, you should be as safe as a babe in their mother's womb!”

Goofy moved his arms around, feeling odd under the additional cloth and pads, but not entirely chafed. He wasn't sure how it was going to keep him safe, but if Gyro said it would, then it had to be true. Goofy nodded once, and then offered a hand to his friend. “Thanks a whole bunch, Gyro.”

Gyro smiled, and shook Goofy's hand, beaming with delight. “I know you can do this, Goofy! You're a good man, the best kind of man! And no matter what the Beagles pull, you're going to do your best! We'll be cheering for you every step of the way! Right, Agalma?”

She had no time to agree, for the loud sound of drums began to beat their way inside the halls. “That's the startin' signal!” Goofy announced, and then rushed to climb into the cart. “Time for me to go! I'll see you both after the... No, after I win this race! Heigh-ho, Little Helper!” With a crack of the reins, Little Helper, whinnied in victory, galloping ahead into the open sunlight. Yes, he was going to win! He had to win! There was a new future to grasp – one without nights of tears and agonizing loneliness. Goofy needed to take this chance, and he wouldn't take it alone. He had friends who loved him for who he was, and if such fantastic people believed in him, then surely he was worth something! Goofy was going to make them all proud – and make himself proud too.

Agalma exhaled all the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. “He's...really amazing.” Her voice was the quietest she'd ever used. Gyro didn't even know she was capable of sounding so soft.

Holding back an amused laugh, Gyro grabbed Agalma by the hand. “Yes, he is! So let's grab our seats before he shows off how amazing he is!”

Within the arena, the racers began to assemble at the starting line. To Goofy's surprise, Bouncer hadn't scared off every single participant. Three others had managed to join the line – a red rooster who was already kicking his feet in eager anticipation, a green parrot that was blowing kisses to pretty girls in the stadium, and a tired black horse who was warily eyeing the competition. The trio watched Goofy ride in, all of them with baffled expressions in response to Goofy's strange attire. Goofy waved to them in a friendly air, wanting to wish respect unto his opponents, and they waved back – then winced as Bouncer rode up, his gray steed huffing and snorting in every direction. Right away, he let his opinion on Gyro's safety devices be known. “HAHAHAHAHAHA! What kind of stupid get up are you in, goof? Did you finally decide to dress as dumb as you are?”

Goofy knew that no response would satisfy Bouncer or make him shut up, so he opted not to. Instead he gripped the reins, eyes staring right ahead. Bouncer wasn't used to being ignored, so he spat a wad of leftover breakfast at Goofy's cart. “I'm talkin' to you, piggy!”

“I ain't here to talk.” Goofy wouldn't turn towards Bouncer, and even had the audacity to grin. “I'm here to win.”

The rooster and parrot noisily enjoyed the comeback, high-fiving each other and hooting, while the horse saluted in pride. Bouncer growled, kicking a small box in his cart – Bombshell Beagle's tricks. “I'm going to enjoy knocking out all of those teeth, goof. Not only am I going to win, but I'll make you wish you were never born!” He would make Goofy fear him again, and get back on top of the food chain. Then maybe Ma would shut up and things could go back to normal. If he lost – which was impossible – she'd make life miserable for him. Or... more miserable? Was any part of his life legitimately enjoyable right now?

The drums began to beat again, and once they stopped, the race would begin. Ten laps, five racers, one victor. Goofy cautiously looked to the crowd, but he was too far away to focus on any faces in particular. But he knew his friends were watching. At least he thought they were – he had no knowledge of a crisis that four of them were going through.

Goofy inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and held his head high. Before he would leave on his journey around the world, he would finish that stone peach for Minnie. For her, he'd win. For Minnie, Daisy, Mickey, Donald, Gyro, Agalma, the villagers at home, Millie, for everyone he'd known  - and most importantly, he'd win for himself. The drums began to slow down.

“Here... we... GO!”

~*~

Donald had never been a good liar, nor did he like lying for any long amount of time. If everything that had happened taught him anything, it was that even well-meaning lies had their cost. So when he returned to the Underworld and told Daisy what he'd actually been doing the day before, Daisy threw everything she could lift at him, including a startled Cerberus, and demanded that she and Minnie go to the island with him. Minnie had retreated back to the Underworld after her encounter with Pete, and after a day full of additional self-loathing and internally struggling with the knowledge she held, she had finally told both of her companions what had happened – including the fact that she could create life. Donald had lost his footing, found it, then lost it again when he remembered the prophecy the Fates had told him, with Magica's dark voice ringing in his ears.

In the near future, a great and bloody war will overtake the mortals! Thousands will perish, and the war will be endless! The Underworld will be flooded with the souls of the innocent! The will of Ares will bring about an end to mankind as we know it!

But there was no way it would come true. It couldn't. Minnie would never do such a terrible thing, and it would be more terrible to tell her about the prophecy. It was only then Donald relented, saying they would go to warn Mickey in case Pete was going to try anything. Warn him, but that was all, and then they'd leave. Maybe they'd even go watch the race, not that any of them were in a particular mood to cheer.

As they walked on the beach, Donald kept his eyes out for any wandering mermaids and was relieved to see none. Minnie kept her eyes down, holding onto Daisy's hand. She wanted to apologize to Mickey, but she also wasn't sure if she could handle another dagger of harsh words to her heart, even if they were deserved. Or, worse, what if he forgave her only because of some mystic power she had over all souls? Truth be told, all three of them were tense, but not a word was exchanged.

Not until they approached the cave's entrance, and Minnie suddenly lifted her head. “Something's wrong...”

Daisy turned around, confused. “Moreso than everything already is?”

“No, listen!” Minnie let go of Daisy's hand to walk up ahead, entering the cave. “Both of you, listen!”

Donald and Daisy put hands to their ears to try and hear anything, but Donald shrugged. “I don't hear anything.”

“That's just it!” Minnie shrieked, panic flooding her chest. “The Axelias – they're always hard at work! We should be hearing them chisel and dig! Why aren't they working?” She then fled deep into the cave, running as fast as she could, crying out her lost lover's name. “Mickey! Mickey! Mickeeeyyy!”

Donald and Daisy became equally frightened, chasing after Minnie in the darkness of the cave. The torches were dying without anyone attending to them, but the brightness of the forge still managed to lead the way. There they saw all the Axelias, lost in their confusion and grief, uselessly chanting their master's name over and over again. “Mickey-Mickey-Mickey.”

Daisy screamed as she saw the Axelia with the smashed back, and the other with the ripped arm, only stopping as she covered her beak with her hands. Minnie gasped for air as she saw the destruction before her, trembling as she picked up her tiara with the broken shells. Donald shook from head to toe before grabbing the nearest Axelia and shaking her back and forth. “Where is he? Where is my nephew?!”

“Mickey-Mickey-Mickey,” was all they would say, no matter how loudly Donald yelled in their faces.

“M-Maybe we can ask the mermaids, the nereids...” Daisy struggled for ideas, looking around for anything that could be a clue, but her hysteria couldn't be ignored. “Oh, what's going on?! There's no way Mickey would do this to his servants!”

Minnie held the tiara close to her chest, tears flooding her eyes. She had no words for this gruesome imagery. Whatever had happened, she couldn't fight the sensation that it was her fault – like all these tragedies had been. It was all her fault. The Axelias were hurt because of her. Mickey was in danger because of her. It was her fault, her fault, her fault, her fault, why had she even been born -

“THERE you are!” A new voice came from atop the workshop anvil – Minnie hadn't seen Fethry, also known as the messenger god Hermes, in so long she almost didn't recognize him. He wiped his brow, exhausted from an extensive search. “I've been looking all over the globe for you, little miss! Ares needs you to come to Mount Olympus, prompt-o!”

“Fethry!” Daisy snapped, grabbing his arm and yanking him down. “This is neither the time nor the place to indulge whatever ridiculous temper tantrum Pete is throwing!”

“B-But miss boss lady!” Fethry stumbled, trying to regain his footing, as his feathered feet were almost always floating. “She really needs to come right now!”

Minnie turned her back towards Fethry, head low again, tears streaming down her face. “I don't care what Pete says...I never want to see him again! I never want to return to that awful place!” If she could actually have a choice in how things in her life would turn out, those two were high on the list. Couldn't she at least have that freedom? Or was she no longer deserving of such things?

“You don't understand!” Fethry was pleading now, wildly pointing to high in the sky. “Ares – he's gone bonkers, nuts, off the deep end! He – he said if you don't come up there and do what he says, he's going to kill Hephaestus!”

That was the only way to make the Axelias stop talking, as they all lifted their heads in silence. Daisy's jaw dropped, Donald grabbed Fethry to make him repeat it, but Minnie had heard enough. She vanished in seconds, and in turn so did the birds.

It had only been mere minutes ago that Pete had revealed his captive, having privately used the mouse as a punching bag to vent out his frustrations before getting ready to start the show. Now on Mount Olympus, Mickey was on full display, bruises and all, tied firmly to a pillar. Mickey pulled and struggled, but to his humiliation, even though he was strong from working in his forge, these ordinary ropes were more than enough to keep him captive. Both arms and legs were held back, and extra layers of rope had been strewn over him just in case. It was crushing his lungs, and the rope was scratching his skin raw. Of course even if he had found some way to free himself, that would do little good as his kidnapper was standing right next to him with the sword Mickey made right to his neck. What a fine way to learn about irony.

Once Hera had laid eyes on the familiar reject, she stood up, knocking her goblet over and spilling its contents out on the floor. “ARES! What are you THINKING? I DEMAND an explanation for THIS...” She couldn't even finish the sentence, not wanting to acknowledge that the helpless boy being presented as some kind of victory trophy had come from her body. Zeus was squinting, trying to recall where he'd seen this familiar scrawny being. Mickey flinched at Hera's harsh tone, not wanting to look at her.

“Aw, pipe down!” Pete was so far gone in his pride and anger that neither ruler could put a dent in his mood. “This ain't got nothin' to do with you! This is between me, the runt, and Aphrodite!”

Hera was close to raising a fist to begin her wrath - and yet did not. Her eyes stayed on Mickey for an uncomfortably long amount of time, staring at his bruises that didn't heal right away, for he'd never taken a taste of ambrosia. He, the eternal mistake, the reminder of the perfect family life she'd never have – he could vanish and be out of Hera's life as long as Pete continued his arrogance. She slowly began to sit back down, picking up the goblet while her hands trembled. It wouldn't be her fault. Nothing had ever been her fault. “If this is the FAULT of Aphrodite...then she SHOULD be punished for her DEEDS. Correct, my HUSBAND?” She drank before he could answer. Surely she'd find the right amount of drink to make her body stop shaking. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She never had.

As for Zeus, he'd only just now recalled what, or who, the boy was, who was hanging his head low as Hera's reaction hadn't surprised him at all. Now that he was being questioned, he jerked. “Of course, my wife!” He had his own trembles to hide – a god, being injured? Being killed? That was impossible! And if it was impossible, then he didn't need to do anything, and risk his own life, risk his own rule. If he couldn't punish Pete, then everyone would see that Zeus was no ruler – and surely one life wasn't as important as that! “We can't step in every time they make a mistake, or they'll never learn!” It sounded good to him, and he convinced himself nothing would happen. It couldn't, not under his glorious rule.

Various viewing mirrors were held up, with gods, goddesses and demi-gods slowly beginning to see the state of affairs but far too afraid to watch in person. Every so often one would pop up in the flesh, mostly to see if this was actually happening – such as the case of Gladstone and Mortimer, who, unlike their rulers, weren't content to let guilt take a cozy permanent residence in the back of their minds.

“Ares, this is too far!” That was Mortimer, not daring to take a step forward, his voice becoming more shrill with every word. “Are you nuts? He's one of us, he's a god!” If Ares was willing to go this far after Mickey and Minnie, what did it say about the fates of all the other immortals?

“Yeah, we had no problem when this was just mortals!” Gladstone added, pondering if his good luck could possibly extend to anyone outside of himself. “But this is insane! You can't really be thinking-”

“MICKEY!” The little crowd of onlookers was bowled and pushed over as the goddess of love barreled her way forward, followed by Donald, Daisy, and Fethry, the last of which hovered among the small audience. When Minnie saw the state Mickey was in, she screeched his name again, only stopping when Pete drew the sword closer to Mickey's throat.

“Ah-ah-ah, Aphrodite!” Pete sneered, taking pleasure that the woman who had dared scorn him was now horrified beyond belief. “Another step closer, and your hubby here becomes headless! He's the only one of us who's never drunk any ambrosia, so once he's hurt, he's hurt for good!”

“UNHAND MY NEPHEW THIS INSTANT!” Donald bellowed, immediately transforming into his monstrous smoky form, causing the crowd to gasp and cower in terror. He was at his most hideous now, filled with righteous anger and bloodlust, towering high above Pete with claws of shadows stabbing the air. “I'LL RIP YOU APART BONE BY BONE!”

But Pete showed no fear, continuing to smirk, waving the sword up and down a few inches. “So what's more important, Hades? You gettin' your revenge, or the life of everyone's favorite reject? Hey, you could win either way, since you'll see him in the Underworld after I'm done with him!” He laughed hard, a hand on his belly as he shook with merriment. Donald hissed and snarled, but retreated back into his normal form with a clear face of defeat. Daisy took his arm for comfort, glaring hotly at Pete.

“Don't hurt him,” Minnie begged, tears flooding down her face, unable to even see Pete for her vision could only contain Mickey, who was shutting his own eyes in humiliation. “Please don't hurt him! He's never done anything to you, he's never done anything to anyone! Please let him go!” If she had to beg on her hands and knees to earn his freedom, lick Pete's shoes clean, whatever it took to have Mickey unharmed, she would do so without hesitation. Except for what Pete actually wanted, as it turned out.

Pete clicked his tongue, pleased that things were finally going his way. “I'll let him go...eventually. First, you get to help him out! You're going to bring my statues to life, and start my forever war!” With his free hand, he gestured to the remaining hideous statues that waited for a purpose, with Gladstone and Mortimer feeling worse about it every passing second. “You're going to breathe life into every single last one, and the next ones I make, over and over and over and OVER, and maybe then I'll feel like letting the runt go.”

Startled and confused murmurs flew among the gods – was he serious? Did Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, truly have such a talent? Zeus began to sweat heavily, even more so when Daisy began to yell in his direction. “Do something!” she roared at him, fingers digging into Donald's arm. “He's going to commit genocide, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

Zeus swallowed, running his fingers through his lofty beard. He was well aware of Pete's blasé attitude towards physical punishment, and that it wouldn't help. But Zeus had spent so many years chasing women and not doing any real work since he fought his father centuries ago that his creativity muscles were dead. Maybe he could find a way to keep his rule without showing how little it meant in reality. “Persephone...of course I will not allow the destruction of our mortals. They are our valued allies and servants. So, I shall make a decree!” He cleared his throat, yet still refused to leave his seat. “For the greater good, we cannot place one life above millions. We shall let it pass.”

“P...Pass?” Donald repeated, his voice dry with shock. “Are you saying... we should just let Mickey die?!” How was this happening? How had the strong, prideful gods that once liberated the mortal plane become so cowardly and despicable? Or had they always been this way, and Donald had been oblivious to this darker side due to his life in the Underworld? “You can't be serious! That is your son being held hostage!”

“Zeus has made a DECREE,” Hera said, although her eyes were not on Donald, but on Mickey, who was slowly beginning to open his eyes. “BLOOD has no value. If there is to be BLAME, then lay it upon APHRODITE, for making a FOOLISH choice for a HUSBAND.” A fresh goblet was in her hand, but she didn't drink it. For some reason it and the last two she'd been drinking hadn't made the trembling stop. Her problems would be gone soon, and then she'd feel better.

“I'm blaming you!” Daisy spat, having to be restrained by Donald so she wouldn't try to claw Hera's eyes out. “You monster, you wretch, you're all evil, you hear me? ALL OF YOU! Standing around and pushing problems onto everyone else! I won't let you do this!” No one dared respond to her, uncomfortable eyes searching for better places, yet even then they would not move. Let it be someone's danger, someone else's blame.

Minnie was on her knees, holding her beloved tiara to her chest, unable to speak or think. Mickey or the mortals. What kind of choice was that? She stared at Mickey, Mickey whom she adored and treasured above all. Whatever her powers did to others, she knew the agony in her heart was real, that she wanted him to be happy and safe even if it meant she couldn't be a part of it. But she loved the mortals too, the amazing people who could find love and strength with their own two hands and by their own choices. Both of them helped her find her place in the world, gave her ideas and confidence and the courage to pursue them. If not for one, she would not have the other. Now, because both were innocent and precious to her, they would suffer for eternity. All because one man didn't get what he wanted.

One of the remaining seashells from the tiara shattered. A light tremor began to rumble in the floor.

~*~

Bouncer didn't start his trickery and treachery until the first lap had been finished, as he wanted to let Goofy feel a smidgen of victory. That way, it would be all the sweeter when he failed. Once he was close enough, he grabbed the first device from Bombshell's box of goodies. This was a fistful of seemingly ordinary little black balls, but in truth they were filled with an explosive powder that would burst upon impact. He grinned, and then lobbed them as hard as he could. “Bombs away, goof!”

Goofy didn't hear him, focusing intently on the race and guiding his horse. It didn't even matter, because the diminutive explosives hit his helmet – and when they blew, he didn't feel a thing, save for maybe a tickle on his scalp. Bouncer stared in disbelief, letting his horse slow down and the parrot gain a few feet. “Why...that stupid Bombshell, he's good for nothing!” Despite saying so, he grabbed for the next trick – a prototype Bombshell called a “firecracker”, which lit when Bouncer roughly scraped it against his chariot.

In the stadium, Gyro was loudly cheering for Goofy's victory, unaware that Burger and Bombshell were sitting nearby. Their directions were clear – if Goofy gained too good a lead, then they'd grab the friends and make it clear that Goofy's win would be a big loss. As Gyro clapped cheerfully when Goofy cleared lap number two, he realized Agalma wasn't cheering as well. “Is something wrong, Agalma? Don't you want Goofy to win?”

“Of course I do,” Agalma replied. “And he will, he said he would, so he will. So I was thinking about something else.”

Gyro smiled, amused by Agalma's sincerely strong faith. “Well, you know me, I can answer almost any question in the world. If there's something on your mind, let me clear it, so we can cheer on Goofy!”

As usual, Agalma's questions came out of left field, right field, and all fields in any directions. “You said you wanted to explore underwater volcanoes, but that doesn't make any sense to me. How can a volcano be underwater? Water puts out anything hot, so how can anything hot survive underwater?”

Funny enough, that was such an odd line of questioning that it stopped Burger and Bombshell's planned assault right in its tracks. What in the world was she talking about? Gyro by now was used to her out of nowhere curiosities, so he didn't mind indulging her. He pulled out the blueprints and plans that he showed his friends before, pointing out lines in the earth and sea. “Well, Agalma, you see it's not just heat that makes a volcano. The biggest cause is pressure.”

~*~

“Make all the decrees you want,” Pete laughed again, feeling more powerful than he ever had in centuries. “We all know Aphrodite would never let me do it! She'll do exactly what she's told, and be a good girl forever.” He then pinched Mickey's cheek, squeezing it hard between his fingers. “Awww, ain't it sweet how much she likes you? Even cripples can find love! You should be thanking me for proving it to-”

Everyone expected to see blood flow, but no one expected it would be Pete's. Mickey had suddenly chomped down so hard on Pete's hand that blood trailed down his fingers, causing Pete to howl in pain. He punched Mickey hard across the face, but only after three more hits did Mickey finally let go, wearing the new bruises like medals of honor. Pete looked at his wounded hand as if he'd never seen it before, and then grabbed Mickey by the throat, barking so hard that spit flew. “I'll kill you right here and now if you don't start behavin'!”

“Then do it!” Mickey shouted right back, slamming his head into Pete's forehead, making him temporarily reel. “I won't be your pawn! I won't let you use me to hurt the mortals and to hurt Minnie!” Whatever confusing feelings remained, Mickey was sure of his own worth, and he would not allow himself to be used as a tool for pain and destruction. “I don't care what Zeus says, and I don't care what you say! I am Hephaestus – I am Mickey, god of the mortal plane, and I would gladly give my life to see them live!” Minnie hadn't caused Mickey to respect and admire the mortals – no, they'd done that all their own, with their fantastic inventions and growing minds. The world was a beautiful and changing place, and he would not allow it to be stopped and filled with misery. There was so much they could accomplish, and they deserved better than to be ruled by greed. And just as importantly...

He breathed hard as he saw Minnie's face, the still astonishingly beautiful face whose eyes were a dull red and getting hotter. How cruel that this had been the way to prove that he'd never been a toy to her. This happy girl, this lively girl, she who brought smiles to all who knew her - “Minnie!” he called out to her, and she opened her mouth with no words to give. “I... I forgive you.” If he was brave enough to sacrifice his life, then, shoot, he could be brave enough to see if how he felt for her was real. “I know I didn't make things easy for you, and I was wrong too. I shouldn't have just assumed Aphrodite was no good. I should have given her a chance – I should have given you a chance! Like all the chances you gave me! Where you came from and what you can do, none of that matters! You're...” If he was going to die, and the cold reality of that was sinking in, yet he spoke on, “You're going to do really great things. Because you did really great things for me, and I don't regret any of 'em. So... So I don't want...” He clenched up, trying to push past his own fears. “So I don't want you to have any regrets either. I want you to keep smiling and helping others when I'm gone! The world deserves to know what great things you can do! Please, keep smiling for them! For yourself! Please be happy! I love you!”

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her so much it hurt – Mickey needed Minnie and Minnie needed Mickey – I don't need nobody – he needed her to be happy – if he could die with a promise of her happiness, maybe his life had some meaning after all. Of course he didn't want to die, but if he could have any choice with it, let it be for the mortals, let it be for her, and let it be for himself. It was why he was saying it all, so she could find a way to move on, so she would have no regrets, so she could find a way to exist without him.

Yet it only strengthened Minnie's feelings as to why she loved him and how she could never see another sunset without Mickey. After hearing his true feelings, after hearing all that, she was just supposed to say goodbye and let it all pass? Daisy was sobbing, Donald was holding her while remembering the prophecy the Sisters of Fate had spoken of. Would this be the one that came to pass?

The will of Ares will bring about an end to mankind as we know it!

Gladstone and Mortimer were eyeing the ambrosia, wondering if there was a way to get it to Mickey. Fethry was covering his eyes, unable to watch. Hera could no longer look upon the spectacle, whereas Zeus couldn't tear his widened eyes away. But all of them began to notice the movement in ground – the shaking that was beginning to increase – Daisy wildly looked around, having never experienced the phenomenon on Mount Olympus before and Donald was going through a similar shock.

Be happy without Mickey? How was Minnie supposed to do that? That was like asking the ocean to dry or the sky to stop being blue. Minnie hadn't been born for him, but she lived for him now, to choose between a life without him and a life without Goofy, Agalma, Gyro, all the courageous people down below...

Two more seashells popped. Then four.

Pete gave Mickey another punch for his speech, waving his hand that had begun to heal. “You really think love's gunna save the day? You moron, love is what's getting me exactly what I want! It's because she loves you that she'll do just as I ordered! Love is her weakness! Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty – what a riot!” He would have laughed once more, but then the tremors rattled the entire mountain so thoroughly that even he had a tough time keeping balance. It was the worst it'd ever been, with gods and goddess falling over, and the almighty throne Zeus and Hera sat upon began to crack.

And finally, at long last, Minnie spoke.

“Love... is... my... weakness?”

~*~

As Goofy stayed ahead in the next lap, Bouncer pulled his arm back as far as he could, and then let the firecracker fly, making sure not to aim for the head this time. But as Goofy whipped the reins harder, his elbow pad made the firecracker effortlessly bounce off and fall to the ground. When it did pop, it was right under the rooster's horse, startling it and causing it to smash against Bouncer's chariot, damaging the wheels – the fact that Bouncer could even hold on was a miracle. At this rate, the chariot wouldn't last much longer, nor would Bouncer's patience. “I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, GOOFY!” If it was the last thing he did, even if he didn't win he'd make sure Goofy would lose! Forget Bombshell's lousy tricks, it was time he settled this the good old fashioned way – force!

Unaware of what was going down on the track, Gyro was using his hands to form tectonic plates pushing against each other. “You see, the ground we walk on is actually made up of plates touching each other, and when they 'hit', pressure builds underneath, containing something we call magma. That can happen underwater too, it really makes no difference!” He pushed his hands together, forming the iconic volcano shape. “The earth's core contains magma, but it doesn't come out right away. The pressure needs to build, and build, and build.”

“And then what?” asked Burger.

“You see, the earth's surface isn't-” Gyro interrupted himself when he saw he had two notorious troublemakers as part of his audience. “...You really want to know?”

“Yeah!” Burger said with enthusiasm, chomping on an old sandwich. “This is really interesting! Ma never told us that the world's made of plates. I love plates, especially when they've got food on them.”

“And I like things that go boom,” Bombshell added.

Gyro glanced to Agalma, who shrugged. “Did it ever occur to you boys that, perhaps, if you'd gotten a proper education, you wouldn't have resorted to a life of thievery and wicked ways? Just a theory, mind you.”

Burger scratched his head, giving it real thought. “Gee, Ma always said learning was for the weak.”

“I can guarantee you if you learned what a meat-shield was, you'd stop agreeing to be one.”

As Gyro began to lecture the Beagles on the importance of lessons, Agalma noticed a particular note detailed on the ocean exploration scroll. She picked it up, squinting. “Say, Gyro, the name of this ocean...You think an underwater volcano is there?”

Gyro leaned over to inspect what she was pointing out. “That is one of my theories, yes. Why do you ask?”

“It's just an odd coincidence.” Agalma put her finger underneath the name of the ocean. “That's where Millicent's family was sailing when they died in the storm.”

Bombshell raised his hand. “Can we go back to the boom?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Gyro turned back to his now attentive companions, glad not to discuss someone's demise. “Where was I? … Hm, ah, of course! When the pressure builds, and builds, and builds...that's when it goes boom!”

~*~

And boom Minnie went.

In the sea many years ago, a young maiden met her death in the ocean's harsh waves. In her dying thoughts, she thought of the sculptor she left behind, and how dearly she loved him. She wished with all her heart that he wouldn't be alone. She thought only of this love, let it consume her whole with her last breath as her body happened to fall into the newly born volcano below the bubbling waters. She loved, loved, loved so deeply that it could rival the love of Gaia herself. Over many years, that love grew and developed, evolved and strengthened, and then, like Gaia's love, at last gave birth to something incredible.

Incredible was first word that came to everyone's minds when they saw the ground underneath Minnie split open, and a torrent of lava spew upward high into the sky, coating the goddess but not muting her scream of rage. None could understand what they were seeing, as the remains of Minnie's tiara first melted, and then burst apart, latching onto Minnie and forming shapes. The lava on Minnie's body cooled, and a threatening shadow loomed. She then stepped out slowly, one footstep at a time, with her feet making the floor sizzle and steam underneath her. No longer was she wearing innocent white robes of purity and delicacy. The lava that had splattered onto her had formed pink and red armor that coated her body, from a helmet that boasted a fiery mane streaming down, to heart-shaped patterns across her chest and arms, a massive shield that was bigger than she was, and a burning spear clutched hard in her right hand. She was still beautiful – but now in a frightening manner, the beauty of a forest turning into ashes. Her eyes remained red, and would forevermore be red, now that she had decided to live for herself.

Love could be soft and gentle, yes – but appearances can be deceiving. Lava too is beautiful when first seen, but the touch is as hot as any lover's passion, and burns twice as deeply.

“Ares.” Her voice echoed across Mount Olympus as the lava stream behind her began to die. “This is your first and final warning. Release Mickey.”

Pete had begun to consider the possibility that this was some sort of lucid dream he was having after trying one of Mortimer's latest experiments. He blinked hard, and rubbed his eyes – no, Aphrodite was still dressed as a soldier, this was actually real life. The rest of the mountain had fallen into silence, also in the same utter astonishment that this was happening. There was no explanation they could come up with, although none would have ever guessed that a mortal's love could be just as powerful as a god's. Pete regained some of his senses as he remembered he still presumably had the winning card in his hand. “J-Just you hold on there! I don't care what kind of fancy transformation you do, I can still end the runt here and now if you don't do what I say! I'm the one with the real power here! I am Ares, God of War!”

God of speed, he was not, though. Even with all his so-called experience, he couldn't have stopped the spear that was thrown right at his face – perhaps even Zeus wouldn't have caught it in time. It sent Pete flying backwards, destroying many statues that had the unfortunate position of being behind him. The spear was lodged in Pete's helmet, missing his excuse of a brain by mere inches. He sat up, trying to pull it out, but found the weapon so blisteringly hot he couldn't last two seconds – and now it made his helmet just as hot, burning his scalp with pain he couldn't believe was real. He scrambled to pull the helmet off, but it was now melting onto his fingers, creating blisters that popped as quickly as they appeared, spreading agony in every direction. Each of these was a new, horrible experience for Pete that wouldn't leave or heal as quickly as all other battle wounds he had experienced before.

By then Minnie caught up, launching a kick to his belly – one so hot that it melted another hole in his armor. Then came another kick, this one to his legs, sending him spinning and reeling. Her spear lay on the ground, in a puddle of what was once a intimidating helmet, and she called it to her hand with one flick of her wrist. Without sparing a second she jumped into the air, delivering one more hard kick to Pete's face so he'd meet the floor. No one had time to register the last action she made before she delivered another, and another, endless and quick with screeching cries of fury.

“Love is my weakness?” Minnie bellowed, on the floor once more and twirling her spear around, creating a flurry of flames to rain down upon him. “Love is my weakness? LOVE IS MY STRENGTH!” Pete tried to roll away from the rain of pain, making a grab for his sword, but Minnie was jabbing his armor over and over with her spear, making it melt as well. Whenever she struck skin, there was barely enough time to bleed before the agonizing heat cauterized the wound. “The strongest warriors fight for their loved ones! To defend their homes, to protect those they hold dear! Love gives them courage! Love gives them power!”

Donald and Daisy had equally matched dropped jaws, but reality came back to Donald quicker. “Mickey! Daisy, hurry!” He grabbed his wife by the hand and raced to the pillar. Together they were able to untie the ropes, and Mickey fell to the ground, Donald catching him. As Daisy began to grow a small sapling for a new walking stick, Donald steadied Mickey to his feet. “Are you all right?”

“I...” What kind of question was that, at this time, at this place? He wordlessly gestured at the impossible fight that was causing lesser-willed gods to either faint or run. The display was alarming – and, okay, he couldn't lie, also deeply satisfying in particular areas. If Mickey wasn't in love with Minnie before, he sure as goodness gracious was now. Homina homina homina.

Pete miraculously found his footing, and summoned up as many weapons as he could hold, but with every swipe and every motion, Minnie melted them away without even breaking a sweat. Which was the exact opposite of Pete, as her intense heat was making him do nothing but sweat. Even worse, the pain wasn't leaving – he was getting burned, and it kept hurting! Other wounds would dull, maybe ache, but this was lasting! This was endless! Even if he stopped moving, if he stopped breathing, it continued to hurt! A cut or a punch, one strike and you could move on – but a burn seeps into the skin, pressing into pores and nerves, keeping the memory alive without end. The God of War had governed over battle for so long that loss had never occurred to him, that pain other than that which he inflicted could exist. For centuries he was content to belittle and tower over those who could never oppose him. He'd never expected or even wanted a fair fight – and certainly never thought he'd be in a fight where he would lose. That was causing pain as well... although not as much pain as the actual burns themselves.

He'd never been burned before, and it HURT! IT HURT IT HURT IT HURRRRRRRRRT! “This – this ain't how it's supposed to go!” Pete had summoned up the biggest, largest metal club he could dream up, but as he locked it with Minnie's spear, it too began to dribble. Horror of horrors, he found himself being pushed back, feet dragging in the clouds. He couldn't even land one hit on her. Was she too small? Too fast? Or was he in too much shock and pain to be accurate? “I'm supposed to win! I'm supposed to be the strongest! I'm the god of war! You're – You're just Aphrodite!”

“I am not Aphrodite!” Minnie began to smack away at the club, while Pete desperately tried to keep up, each new blow making another scorching mark on his armor and then his skin. It was all he could do to defend himself and he couldn't even do that. Minnie was relentless, never stopping, never pausing, eyes full of revenge and movements full of fury. If anyone was going to listen to her, it would be now and they would never forget her intentions again. All of Mount Olympus shook, entire rooms cracking and capsizing. “I never agreed to be Aphrodite! I am Minnie, goddess of love, and I shall protect love! I will fight for love! And right now – I'd love to give you the punishment you deserve!”

She drove her spear into the ground, and once more a searing geyser of lava came forward, but this time it was aimed at Pete, drowning his agonized screams. The lummox was encased in lava, the streams running all over his body and pooling endlessly around him. It refused to harden, and continued to burn, burn, burn.  He'd live, no surprise, but every inch of him was burnt beyond recognition, the smell of cooked flesh giving several gods their first taste of nausea. Now that he was covered in lava, lava made from the will of a goddess, the healing process wouldn't begin for a long time. Being gods, who knew how long a long time was? Until then, his every waking moment would be nothing but convulsions of torture. Even now as he laid on the floor, he couldn't move or breathe without breaking skin and giving new meanings to the word ache. He whined with stinging tears, babbling incoherently, though many could guess he was saying “I'm...the...god...of...war...”

Minnie looked down upon her victim, feeling no pity or remorse. “And should I ever find you harmed another mortal or my precious Mickey again...I will come back.” Her dangerous eyes surveyed the crowd, letting them know the warning was not solely for him. The whimpering she heard let her know the message was received.

No, her powers were not for creating love or instilling it in others. Her powers were for protecting it, as Agalma protected Goofy's heart, letting it heal by showing him he didn't have to be alone. Love had never needed Minnie's help, but it wouldn't suffer for it either. This was her purpose, and she would be proud to carry it.

She slowly turned her back toward the gods, and when she saw Mickey standing upright, her vicious personality vanished. “Mickey!” She threw away her spear, running right toward him, her sweet as sugar voice returning as she tackled Mickey in one of her classic huge hugs.

“Mickey Mickey Mickeeeyyy!” Minnie cried, her touch not burning or harming Mickey at all. No, to him, her touch was warm and very enjoyable. “I'm so sorry about everything! I was wrong! I should have told you who I was from the start! I should have been honest! I'll never ever lie to you again, I promise! If you never want to see me again, I'll do that too! I'll do whatever you want, just don't ever throw yourself away again! Please don't-”

Once again, Mickey found himself defying expectations. During their relationship, every kiss on the lips had been started by Minnie, but for today, it was Mickey who held Minnie's shoulders and pressed his mouth to hers. Daisy was so exhausted by the day's events that she began to laugh happily at this sight, and even Donald shook his head with a smile, trying to hide the fact he'd been so afraid for Mickey's life that tears had formed. Mickey held the kiss long enough to make sure Minnie would calm down – and maybe a few seconds longer than that, he couldn't help it – before pulling away with a smile. “Minnie...can we start over?”

Minnie needed a minute, reeling from what she considered a pretty passionate embrace. She didn't register the words right away, stars in her eyes. “Huh?”

“Can we start over?” Mickey repeated, touching Minnie's hand. “And this time...let's just... be together. We're gunna fight, we might even lie, but I think...” He glanced at Donald. “That's kinda normal. We can't be perfectly happy all the time...and maybe trying to do that is what made everything so rotten.” Mickey would never call himself an expert on this subject, but maybe he'd learned a thing or two. “It's okay if we stumble or get things wrong. It's okay if we get mad at each other. I like you, Minnie... all of you. Even the side of you that's crazy and annoying.”

Minnie looked down at their entwined hands, and then back up. “You're stubborn,” she decided, “And hardheaded. And you don't listen to people. And you pity yourself too much. And...I like all of that too.” She smiled, and then found herself giggling. How strange, to tell him all the things she didn't like about him, yet still adore him from head to toe. This felt natural, this felt real. “I love you, Mickey.”

“I love you too, Minnie.” They held each other, content for the first time in ages. Things weren't going to be exactly like they were before, but they had decided the loss wasn't too terrible. The future was unpredictable and exciting in that way. There was still so much to discover about this odd thing called love. No one person could ever rationalize it completely, no one person would ever truly need it, but those who wanted it would surely have it if they believed.

Minnie and Mickey stood back up, and Daisy slapped Minnie hard on the back. “Am I ever going to get an explanation for what just happened?”

Minnie looked down at her new outfit, lifting her foot and waving her hand to see it all for herself. “I... don't think so. I don't even know what happened, it just felt right. Does this look good on me?”

“Sure does,” said Mickey, taking an admiring glance at Minnie's backside.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Great, thousands of years passed and only now he enters puberty.”

Mickey playfully nudged him, but then became serious. “I wouldn't have said all that I did, and done all that I did, if it wasn't for you. You put some sense in my head...and you actually came for me. So, thank you...uncle Donald.”

Donald stared as the words repeated in his head in an endless refrain. Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald swiftly turned around. “H-Hang on, I gotta sneeze.”

“Oh, let your feelings show, you big baby!” Daisy lightly shouted at her husband. “It's okay to cry!”

“I AM NOT CRYING!” Donald said as he was definitely crying.

Daisy, Minnie and Mickey laughed, yet the good times weren't allowed to roll just yet. As Minnie's laughter settled down, her eyes slid over to the so-called rulers on their throne, who had held onto each other during the entire battle and only now registered that they might be safe – although judging from the way Minnie was looking at them, this might not have been true. Zeus shoved Hera off, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.

“Aphro – er, Minnie, goddess of love!”

~*~

It was the final lap of the race, and Goofy would have been surprised to learn he had kept the lead the entire way if he let himself think about it. However he wasn't letting himself think about anything but winning, which meant laser focus and only staring right ahead. That's why he didn't see Bouncer getting dangerously close, and then driving his horse hard to the right, slamming Goofy into the wall – at least, that was the plan. Goofy was surprised for a moment, but when his shoulder hit the wall, he didn't feel an iota of pain, thanks to his extra protection. All he let out was a confused “Huh?”

Worse for Bouncer, the attack destroyed his already suffering wheel. The chariot toppled over, dropping Bouncer to the ground in front of the other racers. They swerved to avoid him just in time, and also gave Goofy enough space so that no one had any hopes of catching up to him. Gyro was now deep in the lesson about how mountains were different from volcanoes when he remembered that a race was happening, and as he took a look, he jumped out of his seat. “He's doing it! He's going to win!”

“Of course he is,” Agalma said with a smile, rising from her seat. “He said he would.” For her. Thinking about that made her heart do the weird thing again.

Even Burger and Bombshell began to hoot and holler, hoping Bouncer wouldn't hear them. Gyro called out Goofy's name, the Beagles followed suit, and so did the people behind them, and behind them, and within seconds it became a glorious, hearty chant throughout the crowd. Everyone was rooting for the definition of underdog, because if he could win, anyone could, and in him they saw the greatness of humanity. He was only himself, only a mortal, and he was doing something fantastic.

“GO, GOOFY, GO! GO, GOOFY, GO! GO, GOOFY, GO!”

They screamed, they roared, they cheered, and then everyone danced as Little Helper's hooves crossed the finish lap for the tenth time. Cries of elation exploded throughout the coliseum, and even the losing racers felt great exhilaration in Goofy's win. The rooster came in second, the parrot third, the horse fourth, and Bouncer had to crawl to his embarrassing last place. Save for Bouncer, they would have been pleased to congratulate Goofy on his well-earned victory, pulling their chariots aside and climbing out. There was just one problem.

“He did it!” Gyro was celebrating, twirling Agalma around as she giggled. “He did it! He...He's still doing it. Uh-oh.”

Goofy was in fact so intent on winning that he didn't realize he already had, and was still running laps around and around. At this rate it didn't look like he'd ever stop.

Burger finished the last of his sandwich, and began to fish for whatever other food he had in his clothes. “Look, it's not like we call him Goofy for no reason.”

“We'd better get down there,” Agalma decided, taking the lead down the stairs with the others following. When they were on the race track, Goofy had yet to stop, and no one was sure how to do it. Bombshell then saw one of the foods Burger had stowed away was a carrot, and he yanked it out, although Burger whined about it. He then prodded Gyro with it.

“Huh? ...Oh, good idea!” Gyro complimented as he took the vegetable. “You get an A+ for that one, Bombshell.”

“Huh. I didn't know there were grades higher than F.”

Gyro stepped forward, cleared his throat, and then waved the carrot high in the air. “Little Helper! It's lunch-time!”

The moment those words hit Little Helper, he screeched to a halt. Goofy, however, did not, as the force of the sudden stop sent him flying from the carriage -

“YAAAAAA-HA-HA-HOOOOIE!”

And smacking headfirst into a wall, thankfully protected by his new helmet. Agalma rushed over as Goofy toppled to the ground, unharmed but incredibly dizzy. As he tried to sit up, he saw Agalma watching over him. “Uhhh... did Aphrodite send over three more Agalmas, cause I don't think I can handle that many.”

“You won, Goofy,” Agalma said happily, offering her hand.

“I won?” Goofy took her hand and shakily began to stand up, letting it all sink in. “I won? I won. I... won. I won!” Having confidence in what you were doing, and then accomplishing the thing, were two entirely different matters. “I won! I won, I won, I won!” He picked up Agalma, spinning her around. “I won!” She laughed, repeating after him, and they danced arm in arm, singing that he won, he won, he won. Goofy had never been more proud of himself in his entire life, and he never wanted to let that feeling go. He never wanted to let Agalma go either.

Speaking of people who had a hard time letting things go, Bouncer dragged himself into this happy-go-lucky scene, all the anger exhausted out of him. “I don't believe this!” he moaned. “I did everything I could, and he won? What do I do now? If I go back to Ma with this, she'll tan my hide!”

As Gyro stuck the carrot in Little Helper's mouth, he held up a finger. “What says you have to go back to your mother?” Bouncer blinked – the idea of doing otherwise had never occurred to him. Burger was just as stunned, and Bombshell merely shrugged. “If I may, gentleman, perhaps your talents lay elsewhere.”

“But punching people is all I know how to do,” Bouncer lamented.

“Only because no one has taught you otherwise.” Gyro clapped his hands together, an idea bubbling forth. “You know, Goofy is going to split the prize money with me, so I can make brand new inventions. But I can't do it all alone, and the more hands I have, the faster I can help everyone around the world! What say I take you all on as my apprentices and students?”

Bombshell raised a hand. “Can I learn more about things that go boom?”

Burger raised his hand. “Instead of giving my teacher an apple, can I eat the apple?”

And lastly Bouncer raised his. “Can I see a doctor? I think I have a concussion.”

“Yes, yes, and... oh, goodness, let's go do that.” Gyro waved towards his canine companions. “Goofy, Agalma, I'll catch up with you later!” But even as he said that, he doubt he was being heard.

Goofy and Agalma were still dancing along, holding each other 's hands, reveling in not only victory but accomplishment and their realized hopes for the future. Because of their hard work and faith in one another, they were going to get their dreams. There was so much to learn about everything, and now they'd taken the first step together. Goofy couldn't have done it without Agalma – couldn't have moved on, couldn't have made more friends, couldn't have seen the sun for its beauty – and his heart was healed.

As for Agalma, she still didn't understand this floaty, blissful feeling that fluttered throughout her body as she danced with Goofy, but she hoped it never stopped. Maybe he could tell her about this feeling that made her want to be in his arms and stare into his eyes, this feeling that his happiness was the most important thing in the world to her. Did this feeling have a name?

~*~

As Mickey, Donald and Daisy craned their necks to look at the king of the gods who had dared spoken, each look was filled with bitterness. Minnie was walking towards the rulers, tall and proud for someone so small. Other gods backed up, some even bowing graciously in case her anger was directed towards them. Zeus scrambled as he talked, hoping he could butter up someone who had murder in their eyes. “You must be commended after defeating Ares, the God of War! All of Mount Olympus thanks you for your noble deed! Name any gift, and it shall be given unto you!” He grinned at her, his palms open, waiting to hear her heart's desire. One little gift and they'd be safe and sound, and maybe then she'd leave and everything would go back to normal.

Minnie wordlessly summoned her spear back into her hand, and with one mighty movement, launched it right into the throne, shattering it into pieces. Hera shrieked as she fell down, and Zeus stayed on his rear, trying to understand what just happened as he sat among the shards. Many remaining gods fled, deciding this was the final straw, and they weren't going to come back unless they were certain they'd never make her angry. Gladstone wound up hopping into Mortimer's arms, and he'd lost all the feeling in his legs. Yet neither of them left – they actually wanted to see what would happen, and couldn't help but be a little amused. “What in the world makes you think I'd want anything from you?” Minnie snapped, the ferociousness back in her tone. “It's your fault this all happened in the first place, because you never want to do any real work!”

“How DARE you speak to the KING of the GODS in such a MANNER?” Hera barked, but when Minnie had her spear again, she quietly pointed it at Hera. She yelped and hid behind her husband. The scene of such supposedly powerful and all-knowing leaders made some immortals snort and giggle, perhaps overwhelmed by all they'd seen.

“The only good thing either of you have done was free the mortals, and make Mickey!” Minnie growled, hands on her hips. “You're not the King and Queen of the gods – if you can't enforce the rules, you can't make the rules! One good deed doesn't mean you get off scot-free for eternity! From now on, you are just plain, ordinary, run-of-the-mill gods like the rest of them! You hold no power over anyone!” As she finished her declaration, she looked at Mickey, wondering if she'd stolen his thunder. As their son, he had the final right to tell them off.

Yet as Mickey looked upon his parents, he couldn't think of anything to tell them. It seemed so pointless now. He didn't need them, nor did he want them. He had a better family. Mickey took Minnie's hand. “C'mon, let's go. I don't think this place deserves any of us.”

“Well said,” Donald commented, still not crying and no one could prove it shut up.

“Where should we go?” asked Daisy.

Mickey looked at Minnie. “I'd like to fix my girls first... then maybe I can work on a new tiara for you.” Seeing the fury and beauty of volcanoes had gotten him inspired, while also reminding him of the hot furnace he missed.

Minnie squeezed Mickey's hand, at her most beautiful when she smiled at the man she loved. “Yes. Let's go home.”

As they began to leave, Donald exhaled a breath he'd been holding on for far too long, relieved that the prophecy had been avoided. Yet, it was at that moment he recalled another one, one that had been so long ago that everyone had assumed it would never come to pass. His last look was toward the remains of the throne, at the pitiful faces of Zeus and Hera who would never erase their guilt and shame. When he turned to rejoin his family, he saw Gladstone and Mortimer offering Mickey a drink of ambrosia, and Mickey politely declined. Mickey joined hands with Minnie, who joined hands with Daisy, who waited for Donald's hand. He squeezed it tightly.

It had been said once that the son of Zeus would take away his throne – it just never said the son would do it himself.

[bvckst]

70 horrible questions

tagged by @kookno​

1. do you have a good relationship with your parents?

kind of. my dad and i are pretty close, and my mom and i used to be really distant, but we’re starting to get more in touch with each other. 

2. who did you last say “i love you” to?

i think either my grandmother or my best friend syd. 

3. do you regret anything?

yeah like every single decision i make. my life is nothing but second-guessing every action i take.

4.  are you insecure?

incredibly so.

5. what is your relationship status?

hopelessly single.

6. how do you want to die?

ok so this is going to sound really weird but my cousin and i have thought very deeply about this. we decided that we either want to become immortal (like technology evolves enough to make us live forever without getting old) or we want to die relatively young bc we don’t want to be old. that sounds really really bad but dude if we’re both immortal then we won’t be lonely.

7. what did you last eat?

raspberries.

8. played any sports?

yeah i used to play soccer and i was really good at it. 

9. do you bite your nails?

yes, to the point that they bleed, and it’s really annoying. 

10. when was your last physical fight?

in elementary school on the first day in T.A.G. class a girl kept teasing me and messing with me and stuff so i punched her in the stomach. 

11. do you like someone?

yeah but im p sure i don’t even register to her.

12. have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

yeah finals week b.

13. do you hate anyone at the moment?

yeah a lot of people i have this bad habit of disliking people at the drop of a hat. too cynical. 

14. do you miss someone?

yeah, my aunt moved really far away and we used to be super duper close.

15. have any pets?

yeah man two mastiffs ( gimli and daisy ) and two cats ( buddy and luna ) who are completely unrelated but have the exact same markings and are really hard to tell apart for strangers. 

16. how exactly are you feeling at the moment?

excited bc i’m hanging out with friends tomorrow. 

17. ever made out in the bathroom. 

never made out period mate. a little too far for me. 

18. are you scared of spiders?

i have a very hot and cold relationship with spiders. i understand that they are benign and i try to let them go their own way but if one happens to get too close or is a bit bigger than i’d like it to be i will not stop until it is gone. 

19. would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

i mean not forever bc the past doesn’t like gay people but for a brief period of time hells yeah ur talking to a major history nerd i couldn’t resist. 

20. where was the last place you snogged someone?

christ never. 

21. what are your plans for this weekend?

hanging out with friends and buying a swim suit. 

22. do you want to have kids? how many?

no not at all sorry dad but there are no kids in the future for me. 

23. do you have piercings? how many?

just my ears. 

24. what is/are/were your best subject(s)?

really all of them but my favorites are math and science. 

25. do you miss anyone from your past?

no i think i’ve moved on. 

26. what are you craving right now?

chick fil a.

27. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

a few times maybe, but one of them i don’t feel bad about bc he was stalking me.

28. have you ever been cheated on?

yeah in elementary school lmao. 

29. have you ever made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

idk probably i’m a shitting gf i think i don’t know not a lot of experience.

30. what’s irritating you right now?

my sister had her friend over and they were up until 5:30 in the morning shouting and they kept me up all fucking night and i would have slept in except my dad woke me up to check if i was still alive. 

31. does somebody love you?

i mean yeah like my friends and my family. def hate myself though. 

32. what is your favorite color?

ok legit i do not know this is a serious problem for me i like a lot of colors like blue and green and yellow i can’t decide on a favorite. 

33. do you have trust issues?

yes and no. i feel like a lot of people have ulterior motives bc i’ve been around a lot of people like that but i’m also willing to open up if i know it’ll help someone. 

34. who/what was your last dream about?

i dreamed that my grandmother was best friends with the chinese president. 

35. who was the last person you cried in front of?

idk i cry every fucking day i think i got in a fight with my dad and started crying bc i’m a crybaby. 

36. do you have out second chances too easily?

yeah i think so. i mean i’m still suspicious of the person but i allow them to try and make it up. 

37. is it easier to forgive or forget?

forget, i’m bad at forgiving so i try to just block it out. 

38. is this year the best year of your life?

yeah i think so. i’ve picked up a lot of the things i used to love, and i’m a lot happier than i used to be. 

39. how old were you when you had your first kiss?

i think i was it third grade and this kid we called vampire kid ( he bit people ) dragged me underneath a bush by my leg and forced me to kiss him. 

40. have you ever walked outside completely naked?

dude no wth.

51. favorite food?

pasta, chicken, potatoes, sushi. don’t make me choose. 

52. do you believe everything happens for a reason?

nahhh i don’t think so. i believe in science and science is random and meaningless but also patterns and meticulous. i think that everything is explainable but that doesn’t mean everything has a purpose. 

53. what is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 

watched blackfish for the 75th time.

54. is cheating ever okay?

nah b down with cheaters. 

55. are you mean?

i don’t think i’m mean, i’m somewhat brash and i like to tease but i’ve never intentionally tried to belittle someone or cause someone pain. plus i’d never have the courage to be mean to someone, i’m too scared of everything ever. 

56. how many people have you fist fought?

none i’m small. i have wrestled with my cousin skye though but i always lose. 

57. do you believe in true love?

nope i think you can love someone with all your heart and still it might not work out. love is someone you have to work for. 

58. favorite weather?

sunny and 65. 

59. do you like the snow?

yeah bc it means i get a snow day. 

60. do you wanna get married?

idk man like i don’t see a reason for it because i don’t think you need a piece of paper to validate your relationship but i do think that if you wanna get married that’s totally chill. 

61. is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

platonically yeah, i love it. 

62. what makes you happy?

idk my friends, painting without reason, books, nature, the beach. a lot of simple things make me happy. 

63. would you change your name?

no i don’t like my name but it’s still MY name, and i don’t think any other name would fit me. 

64. would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

we’re talking abt vamp boy so yeah, hella hard. 

65. your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

politely turn them down bc i’m gay. however this scenario wouldn’t ever happen bc my best friend of the opposite sex is also gay. 

66. do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act like your complete self around?

yeah several. i think i’m very much myself nowadays, i’m not as afraid to be myself as i used to be. 

67. who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

my dad?

68. who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 

probably my grandmother talking we like to yell abt how much we hate trump. 

69. do you believe in soulmates?

no i think you can have deep connections with multiple people. 

70. is there anyone you would die for?

honestly i’m really scared of dying, but there are still a few people i would. especially my little sister, because i’m always worried about her. 

i tag @3cbx @tencafe @softheartae @overdevv @shinee-prism @namjoone @dreamscript @jeon-gguk @amartae