....but still haven’t added a sidebar. i may just opt for that one pic of thomas’ fc in a dress.
updated the mun page and the rules page
to do list:
update headcanons page and relationships page
try to add a verses page??????????
maybe get a new icon?????????
figure out some tags???????????????
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So. I saw this woman today in the neighborhood.... She was wearing the most /hideous/ looking green and pink dress I had ever seen. I mean really, the shape and the cut weren't /too/ bad but those colors were just awful. Ew.
He hears the gentle pattering of Carol’s tiny feet on the floorboards.
“Thooooomaaasssss!”
Of course, he doesn't really answer but he laughs quietly.
When he finally turns around, he looks at his little sister in the doorway, with a pout on her face and a box in her hands.
“Why didn’t you answer?” she demands, huffing.
“I like seeing your face when you’re mad, Care-bear.” he teases with a soft laughter, poking her nose with with finger.
Thomas watches his younger sister scrunch up her nose and place the box on the counter of Thomas’ vanity.
“Say... what’s in that box?” he asks leaning forward.
“It’s mom’s make-up box.” she confesses, placing her little hands on the box. “I asked her to play dress-up with me but she didn’t want to and I can’t ask dad to play dress-up with me either....” Carol’s face looks down to the floor and Thomas knows that look of disappointment on her face.
“Oh.” Thomas furrows his eyebrows, he knows she must have asked for permission lest she face the consequences of being caught stealing.
“.... Will you play dress up with me?” she asks, looking up at her older brother half-heartbroken, half-hopeful.
Thomas looks down at the floor and then looks back up at Carol. His heart sinks when he sees his eight-year-old little sister standing not even a few feet away from him, looking so heartbroken. On one hand, he only wants her to be like every other eight-year-old girl and play dress-up (there’s nothing wrong with that, right?) but on the other hand, a part of him worries about the consequences of their dad catching him in make-up and wearing dresses.
He remembers the last time their dad caught Thomas wearing his mom’s dress and how hard he beat Thomas afterwards. He remembers every strike of Mr. MacLaine’s fists and belt against his small body and how Thomas felt that his dad might have snapped him in half at any moment, he remembers having to tell people in school that he fell down the stairs and tell Carol that everything was going to be okay.
Thomas contemplates telling her no, but --
“Hey... can you keep a secret?” He leans forward, placing his index finger on his lips. “Of course!” Carol sounds so excited as she practically beams. Thomas stands up from the chair and goes to the door. “Okay..” he reaches for the handle. “... Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“I promise!” Carol practically beams at her older brother.
Carefully he latches the door to his room. “Do you pinky promise?” He kneels down at eye level with her. “I do!” Carol extends out her tiny finger only to watch her brother curl his finger around hers. “...Care-bear... did you know that there are fairies hidden in my room?” His voice lowers to a whisper.
“That’s dumb. Fairies aren’t real.” she interjects, scrunching up her nose in disbelief. Thomas shakes his head. “No, that’s where you’re wrong.... Fairies do exist and so does magic. All you have to do is believe.” Thomas gently pokes her little nose. “I promise, there will be fairies, all you have to do is close your eyes and don’t open them.” he adds.
“Yeah right.” She crosses her arms and huffs, but smiles the instance Thomas pokes her. “I still don’t believe you y’know. Lying’s bad big brother, you know that.” Carol lowers her arms and sits down on Thomas’ chair, running her fingers through her hair.
“That’s okay.” He smiles softly and laughs for a moment. Her words touch something deep inside of his chest and so he makes this pained expression like he’s about to double over any minute. “I know lying’s bad....” he crouches down at eye level with Carol, parting her hair from her face. “But... Sometimes.... a fabricated reality is nicer than actual reality.... One day you’ll understand what I’m talking about, but for now.... just pretend, okay?” he pleads quietly as he grabs her tiny hands again, looking up at his little sister. “Besides...” perhaps the sadness in his voice and the pain on his face just subsides for the moment. “I guess I’ll have to tell the fairies that their queen refuses to see them.”
Being dead feels strange. I don't hunger or feel the same way I used to. In the end I was powerless over what fate had in store for me. Looking back, I deserved every little thing that happened to me. But not Carol. She deserves so much better. She's still alive and happy, she's moved on. . . She finally has the life she deserves.
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