#brb crying with relief

[robinsnest2111]

despair cancelled (for now), the ointment I picked up at the drug store is helping with the most annoying pain immensely 🙏

[marystuart25]

COMMANDER SEVEN OF NINE

[pixieokapi]

So I just learned that in some places captioned live theater shows are a thing. Like at the Curve Theater in Leicester, England.

At the Curve, they appear to use Open Captions (by displaying the captions on a large screen located above or beside the stage), but apparently other places use Closed Captions.

And, honestly, the idea of captioned live theater makes me want to cry a little bit? (Maybe more than a little bit. Good tears though.) Because live theater has been something I viewed as inaccessible for my whole life due to my hearing, and the idea that I could get to not only experience it, but also be able to understand what is being said (and therefore what is happening in general) is absolutely amazing to me.

It’s even a bigger feeling than when I realized that movie theaters had captioning devices because for those I could wait until something came out on dvd and that would have captions. But not every play or musical gets recorded, or even captioned after it’s recorded. And so I’ve missed so much theater through my life. I would 100% go to more live theater performances if I knew they would be captioned. This is a beautiful application of modern tech.

I want to thank anyone and everyone involved in the effort to bring accessibility to these performances, but I don’t know who to thank. If you know someone in the captioning world involved with stuff like this, please tell them a huge thank you and maybe hug them too.

[krosiefics]

send nudes • bang chan

M D N I 18+

Summary: You accidentally send a nude to Chan and well…he takes it as a chance to act on his hidden feelings

WC: 2.4k

Tags: smut, afab!reader, dom/tease!chan, porn with little plot, piv, unprotected sex (just don't), fingering, oral (f & m receiving), creampie, mutual pinning(?), handjob, chan is a tease, reader calls chan; chris, chan, christopher, channie), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), not proofread, im prob forgetting some- sorry (brb gonna touch some grass)

“Shit shit shit!” You quickly pulled your shorts back up as panic spread throughout your body. You quickly look at the open messages to see if the picture has been seen yet. Ugh this is why you don’t send nudes! You screamed at yourself. About twenty minutes ago you were flirting over text with this random guy from tinder when it started escalating into pictures being sent, you took a picture and was going to send it to him but you unknowingly sent it to your best friend.

You hadn’t noticed until about five minutes ago when the tinder guy hadn’t replied yet, you noticed the notification of the image sent was under Chan’s contact and well now you’re trying to figure out how to delete the picture.

You already tried deleting it from your messages but that only deletes it on one end not both.

Suddenly the ringing of your phone fuels the flames of your anxiousness. You dwell on whether you should check the caller ID, peeking at the screen your heart drops, it’s Chan. “Oh fuck.” You snatch your phone, not answering it, before running out of your dorm, down the hall towards Chan’s dorm. His dorm isn’t far from yours so by the time you get there your phone is still ringing. As it’s about to hang up you finally answer it, banging on the front door.

The wood door swings open revealing a confused Chan. God you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Hi,” Chan chuckles, not acting like he’s seen something that he wasn’t supposed to, you sigh in relief, “I was about to text you-”

“Don’t do that!” You cut him off, pushing past him to grab his phone. “Hey?!” He exclaims after you snatch his phone, Chan makes a move to grab but you quickly dodge him, opening his messages app.

“Don’t delete it!” Chan huffs out annoyed. You stop, dead in your tracks, Chan takes the chance to take his phone back, shoving it into his pocket. “What do you mean don’t delete it.” You burst, heat spreading throughout your face like a wildfire. When did he see it?! You thought to yourself as you took out your phone and looked back on your messages, it displayed ‘read 1 minute ago’.

“Chan…” You push, when he doesn’t reply simply wearing a smirk on his face you start getting even more flustered, “Christopher! What do you mean don’t delete it?!” Your face is as red as a tomato at this point, your heart pounding so fast you can feel it in your ear.

Chan lets out a bubbly chuckle, you only ever use his real name when you’re either pissed or are in a teasing mood- you are not in a teasing mood, “I’ve got blackmail. And besides, it's fun seeing you flustered.” The smirk he wore was just straight up menacing. “This kind of situation is weird and makes me flustered- Did you just save it?!” You shriek as you watch him take out his phone and scroll through your texts. Chan smirks at you as he shows his phone’s screen, the save button clearly pressed. “Why would even- Chris!” You cry out his name, he finally puts his phone down on the desk by his bed with a shrug.

“You forget I’m a man.” You stand crossed armed as you stare at your best friend, “Yeah okay, but keeping a nude of your best friend is kinda weird.”

“Would you rather me send you one too?” Chan asks calmly as if it weren’t the most absurd thing he’s ever said. You scoff, eyes blown out by his question, sure Chan’s a flirt and likes teasing you, but it's never actually gone this far between the two of you. Just a simple mistake opened this pandora box.

“Who was that meant for anyways?” The Australian asks, sudden curiosity leading him on. “That’s none of your business-“

“Well you sent me the photo, I should at least get an explanation, no?” Chan raises his brows. “The guy from my date the other day.” You admit embarrassingly, Chan lets out a laugh while shaking his head, “The one that you complained about for the next three hours after your date.”

“I was bored okay!” You throw your arms up in defeat, plopping down on his bed.

A few moments of awkward silence washed over the two of you- well more awkward for you- before your phone interrupted the silence. You checked the notification, rolling your eyes as you opened the message from Chan. Holy shit. The grasp you had on your phone loosened as the electronic tumbles onto your face, smacking you right on the forehead. “You that shocked by the picture?” Chan hums in amusement. You gape at him after massaging your sore forehead, “Well no shit, you just sent me a dick pic!” You shove your phone in his face.

On the screen was a picture of Chan’s crotch area. His gray sweats not hiding the boner he obviously sports, his veiny hands holding onto his intimate area. A sudden realization dawned on you, “Did you just take that?” You stared between him and the same colored sweatpants that he wore. Now it’s his turn to be flustered, sure he had fun teasing you but now thinking about it, it wasn’t exactly appropriate to take a dick pic in front of his best friend even if she wasn’t aware of his actions. Brushing it off, Chan shrugged with a smug face.

“God you’re infuriating sometimes.” You shake your head. “Oh c’mon, you can say it’s hot, your’s was. It’s the reason I’ve got a bone-“

“Chan!” You squeak, your hands covering your face. Chan was too blunt for you sometimes. “You still need help with this?” Chan says, gently guiding your hands down from your face to show you the picture that you had sent him earlier. You pout, thoughts in your head weren’t lining up to how your body was reacting, “Help?” You shake your head in confusion trying to understand what his words meant. Chan hesitantly trailed his hands to your inner thighs, instinctively you spread them apart which he takes as a go-ahead.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You stutter, realizing where this could be going, “We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t wanna.” Chan said, retrieving his hands from your legs. The warmth of his hands still burning your skin despite them not being there anymore. “No, I wanna-” Your mouth moved quicker than you could process, you slapped a hand over it. Chan raised a brow at you in his regular teasing manner, you simply shook your head at him, “Chan…you’re my best friend, I don’t wanna change that.” That was a lie, you did want to change that, you really want to change that, but losing Chan was something that always prevented you from ever telling him how you felt.

“Who says it has to change?” The curly haired boy leans over your body, dipping his bed at the weight. Your hands come up to his shoulders, not knowing whether to push him away or bring him closer. “Chris.” You sigh, eyes closing in thought. “Keep your eyes close, if you want me to stop just tell me…okay?” His words fanned across your cheeks as he spoke softly into your ear. You squirmed at his words but nonetheless kept your eyes shut.

A sudden touch to your thighs made you flinch, the hand hesitantly tapped your knee for your consent, nodding in response. Chan let out a shaky breath as his hands nudged your thighs apart, revealing the wet patch that stained the lining of your shorts. Did you get turned on by the tinder guy? No, it was by Chan and his insufferable teasing, he’s what got your arousal pooling. Chan hums, his breath breezing over your hot skin, sending shivers down your spine. “This okay? D’you trust me?” He asked as his fingered trailed along your throbbing cunt, you bit your lip in pleasure, nodding frantically, yearning for more friction.

Chan begins rubbing his thumb in circles on your clothed clit while his other fingers slip between your slick folds that stick to your panty. Moving your loose shorts to the side, you feel him dip his head down, licking a stripe up your cunt. “Channie.” You whine, hands flying to his curls, entangling them with your fingers. The sudden rush of pleasure has you opening your eyes, the sight of your best friend’s face between your legs, lickking at your most intimate area sends another wave of arousal straight to your core. Your thighs instinctively tense around his face, Chan gaze lifts to you at the action, locking your eyes and you're done. Chan’s eyes stared into you longingly, the smirk that made his way to his face when he sneakily maneuvered your underwear to the side had you writhing under his hold.

Chan continued his assault on your cunt with his mouth, sucking at your clit, swirling iit around your fold. His fingers brought you even closer to the edge as they ever-so-often sunk inside, never past his fingertips as if he was teasing you. That familiar knot formed in your stomach as your thighs began to shake, the movement not going unnoticed by Chan. “S-Stop!” You say closing your legs in an attempt to get him off, he sticks to his previous words and obliges to your command. “You okay?” Chan looks at you, a pang of worry flashing in his eyes, his mouth and chin was wet with what you’d assume is your arousal and his saliva mixed, he subconsciously licks his lips as you stare at them.

You nod in response before climbing onto your knees pushing him back onto the bed, “What are you- Y/N?!” Now it was Chan’s turn to turn pink, his heart pounded in his chest as he watched you pull the waistband of his sweatpants down revealing his hardened cock. “This okay?” You ask innocently, contradicting your actions. “Fuck yeah, this’s okay.” He sighed.

You stared at his dick, the very same one he had sent a few minutes ago, you never thought you’d ever be in this position with Chan. The tip was leaking with precum and the veins on the side evident from the lack of friction, he wasn't too big like the ones you’ve seen in those exaggerated pornos but he’s definitely above average. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, pumping it a few times, precum coating it making it easier to slide up and down. “Jesus, fuck, you’re so pretty, such a good girl, baby.” Chan rambles as you lean down, placing a small kiss on the tip. Tongue trailing down along the veins before coming back to the tip and taking it into your mouth.

Rolling his head back in pleasure, Chan gently takes a fistful of your hair so that it doesn't get in your way. You hum in appreciation. Chan almost cums, the vibration of your hum going through his shaft towards that knot forming in his abdomen. Hollowing your cheeks, you attempt to take more of him but Chan stops you, pulling you off of him with a pop. “Why’d you- mmph.” The feeling of his soft, plump lips cuts you off. His lips were gentle yet rough against yours, lust and desire making the kiss messier. Without your lips coming apart, Chan guides you to the bed again, laying you down under him. Lips dancing with one another, he adjusts your shorts and underwear to the side again, prompting a gasp from you, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue alongside yours.

You moan into the kiss as he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance. Your eyes meet once more, he has that same worry in his eyes, asking if he can continue. “Fuck me Channie…please.” Before your words could fully come out he��s already snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and letting you adjust to his size. “You okay, sweetheart?” The pet name draws out an erotic moan from your lips, you nod frantically as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Chan places your knees atop his shoulders, leaning into you as his hips smack against the back of your thighs. The echo of wet noises bouncing off the dorm room’s wall, Chan has never been more grateful that his roommate, Minho, wasn't in town. “S’close, Channie.” You moan into his neck, your nails clawing at his clothed back. It barely occurred to you that you were both technically fully clothed. “God I like you so much, you know that baby?” Chan mumbled as he drilled into your cunt. “Channie, I like you too- oh my fucking God.” You curse as he reaches your g-spot, hitting it dead on. “Actually?”

“Mhm, shit, liked you for a long time.” You say between moans and whimpers, your climax nearing as your legs begin to shake. “Fuck, gonna make you cum. S’fucking pretty.” Chan slurred as his hand made his way to your clit, rubbing circles onto it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, you don’t think you’ve ever orgasmed like that before.

“Almost there, where d’you want it?” Chan pants over your whines of overstimulation, “Inside, I’m on the- holy fuck- on the pill!” The sensitivity of your cunt begins to be uncomfortable. Your words send Chan over the edge, spilling his hot cum inside of you.

Chan slowly pulls out before plopping onto the mattress next to you. “You really mean it?” He pants, chest heaving. You look at him confused, your mind too hazy for anything at this point. “You like me?”

“Heh, yeah…I do.” Chan leans over and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips. Rolling out of the bed, Chan comes back to you with a towel and some water. “Thanks.” You smile, taking the bottle of water. “Lemme get you some clothes from the closet.” As he makes his way to the closet an idea pops into his head. Chan snatches his phone before walking into his shared walk-in closet.

The ding of your phone grasps your attention, you reach for it and read the most recent message. It’s from Chan.

Send nudes ;)

[somethinghappy-fromtoday]

my mom got me a solution to help with my chronic pain

[star-kovs]

I’m still not over Clarke talking to Bellamy over the radio every day for 6 years. He was the person she wanted to talk to most that whole time and it kept her sane to keep radioing to the ring and hope someone could hear her.

And when they finally talk about it, he reassures her so sincerely that it’s not crazy. Then to lighten things up, he calls it a little pathetic. He was able to get Clarke to laugh about something so serious and traumatizing right after because they’re still really good friends, despite everything. Despite him basically moving on with Echo on the ring, especially when he thought Clarke had died in Praimfaya. Despite the tension of the two of them getting reacquainted after the 6 years of separation and Bellamy locking her in that room.

And then you tell me they didn’t end up together???

Not to mention his devastation when Clarke “died” and Josephine took over her body and the fact that the only people on the walls in her mind were her loved ones like Lexa, her last love and BELLAMY. And the way he fought to bring her back declaring “I’M not losing her again.” and giving her CPR and the relief and the way they clung to each other when she came back… brb gonna go cry over them again

[ddeck]

WE'RE SO BACK (FINAL)

its so over, people

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 45

chapter 68:

1. “Some of those ashes could be Marlene.” bro wtf

2. listing out the names of the people who died in war destroyed me

3. james reacting to his father’s death by flinching away from effie had me broken. i’m destroyed. unwell

4. “The worst part is, when he says what he does next, it's not even a question. "After that, you're leaving."

Sirius' eyes flutter shut, and he croaks, "Yeah, Reggie, I'm leaving again."”

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING IM UNWELL I WILL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN!!! I WILL NEVER BE FINE AGAIN

5. “”Sirius, I love you more than anything. You're the first person in this world I ever loved at all. Not Mother, not Father, not James; it was you.”” STILL SCREAMING STILL CRYING STILL SOBBING STILL UNWELL

6. okay just all of the stuff with the black brothers has me in tears. their bond is unbreakable and my heart is in fact very breakable. i’m shattered over them

7. dorcas hasn’t left that spot in over twenty four hours and boy am i worried for her. she needs water. she needs to go pee, i’m sure. she needs to eat something and to rest

8. “Just not afraid to die, then?

No, I'm rather used to it, actually.”

STILL SCREAMING OVER MARLENE!!! STILL SOBBING ACTUALLY

9. “"You. Even you," Dorcas declares harshly, glaring at her. "I'd rather it be you. Instead of her, I'd rather you be dead."”

WOAH! hold up!!! i love marlene as much as the next gal, but nobody goes after my girl lily. she fought and fought and fought as well. she deserved to make it to this side of war too! she tried to keep marlene alive too. hold your horses dorcas.

10. 😧 did you just shoot my lily??? MY LILY??? holy fucking shit. she’s insane.

11. “Some of that blood must have been Marlene's. Dorcas wishes she had bathed in it; Dorcas wants to turn back time and drown in it.” 😟 i’m worried

12. “Never, through any of this, did [James] imagine losing his dad.” kill me. it would be more merciful than making me live after reading that

13. “Monty loved Sirius like a father did; Sirius is allowed to mourn him as a son would.” calling my freind again while sobbing brb

14. god I don’t know how to explain it, but every time pandora is mentioned and she’s alive i let out a huge sigh of relief

15. AROACE PANDORA SUPREMACY

16. i’m so horridly upset that lily lost almost everyone. she lost her family, she lost sybil, she lost kingsley, and dorcas tried to shoot her, so i’m pretty sure she lost her too. lily tried to not love anybody because she was scared of losing them, and sure enough, she was right

17. i get upset when everyone talks about going separate ways. i want everyone to live in one big town and live right next door to each other. i’m thinking hogwarts vibes (except better, ya know) or maybe the mansion they all lived in at the start of ahb!

18. as much as it upsets me that sirius is going to be leaving james and effie and regulus, i’m genuinely so happy that sirius is going to stay with remus

19. oh. i see why sirius has to leave. it’s best for everyone to heal a little before sirius sees his james and regulus again. because otherwise they won’t be able to heal

20. i love wolfstar, and this is so emotional but like, “Just—for right now, what I need is to be with you. I want—that's what I want.” all that does is remind me of high school musical with the “ALL I WANNA DOOOO IS BEE WITH YOU! ONLY YOU! NO MATTER WHERE LIFE TAKES US, NOTHING CAN BREAK US APAAAART, YOU KNOW ITS TRUE, I JUST WANNA BE WITH YOUUUU”

21. ““I wish I did love him that way," Regulus confesses, "because it would have been easier than this. It would have been easier to define how losing him feels, but it's not. James, it's not."”

god, i ache for him. like so badly. i so badly want him to have barty back. more than any other character. (sorry to marlene and monty and sybil and literally everyone else who died)

22. “It's still been three days since the end of the war, and Regulus wonders when they'll stop measuring the passage of time that way.” 😟

23. “Doomed to be a great, big tragedy.” *eye twitch* i’m fine. *even bigger eye twitch*

24. look, i know in the future, everyone will be together again and as happy as they can ever be. but rn, i’m sad

chapter 69:

1. “"I don't care!" Aberforth shouts. "I don't give a damn about your fucked up love story with our sister's murderer, Albus! The fact that you even came to love him to begin with sickens me, let alone that you continued to after he killed Ariana, and still do to this day!"” hell yeah put him in his place

2. “The dead sister card is a little underhanded, admittedly, but Aberforth knows a thing or two about manipulation tactics. He'd have to. Albus is his older brother, after all.” LMAOOOOOO

3. lily mentioning children and sirius and remus just locking eyes and panicking was so fucking funny. bro i’m wheezing

4. BRO AND THEN REGULUS BEING LIKE ���you’ve??? never thought about kids??????? wtf??? me and james are having four you little loser??????”

5. dorcas just marching in has me so fucking scared ngl

6. oh god, dorcas became the president coin in this. she wants to make a new hunger games. oh god. oh no

7. as horrifying as it was to see sirius’ train of thought, him being the first one to say no is so fucking satisfying oh my god

8. good for remus fucking standing up for lily. everyone is blaming lily, and finally remus speaks up that the blame cannot rest on lily alone

9. 😧😧 not albus suggesting the jegulus wedding to help with the aftermath. bro he’s fucking insane. it’s so hallow-like of him to suggest that oh my god

10. oh my god dorcas has gone insane, is she about to tell everyone how albus was in love with grindlewald. that’s fucking insane oh my god i can’t wait

11. oh my god it’s even better. it’s that he came up with the rule for the quarterly quell. oh my god this is gonna be great

12. 😧 holy shit. sirius just killed albus. imma be so real, i expected one person to not leave that table, and i thought it would be dorcas, not albus. i thought she would be killed

13. minerva asking lily to be a medic and help save albus, and lily just not will forever be iconic to me

14. as a punishment they banned sirius from the hallow 😭😭😭 babes they knew they had to come up with some punishment as like a way to show actions have consequences, but they chose one that sirius would love 😭😭 that’s so funny to me bro

15. alberforth finally leaving his home is a very satisfying character arch

16. “this story is, first and foremost, about siblings—primarily sirius and regulus ofc—like that is the whole point of this fic, the core of it over anything else. and that feels right considering the source material, like in thg, it was always about katniss' love for prim and how important that was over peeta or gale or anyone else. and i just. i really adore that, and hope i paid a good homage to that, because i really admire it.”

you did. you did pay homage to that. it was abundantly clear that this was about siblings. and i love you for it. thank you, if you see this

alrighty six more chapters to go! i’m in the home stretch yall

[nishipostitz]

700 or so words, 4 min read

after a long day of fun activities, such as cafe hopping and playing bumper cars at the amusement park, you guys finally arrived home to slump on your couch. after ridding of your jackets and shoes, both of you dropped down to the coffee table on the floor by the couch, not making it to the couch because of how tired you guys were from such an eventful day. your feet were so sore from walking all over that you guys couldnt walk back home and had to catch an overpriced uber. it was a relief, or else youd both call off of work tomorrow due to the fatigue. yet you couldnt realllyy blame anyone else because you were quite obstinate on playing the whole day to take advantage of your time together. youll keep a mental note to do a spa day as a date next time. finding the strength, suna got up from his spot on the floor to fetch some drinks from the fridge. “ah, refreshing!” you say as you took a sip, imitating the tiktok audio. suna smiled at you and squeezed your cheeks. how you both managed to stay awake was questionable. after your continuous rounds of roller coasters and playing all sorts of fair games, you still had some energy. you snuggled up against suna’s shoulder on the floor and glanced at one of your photos on display. and you had an idea. “suna hold on a sec, turn on the tv but dont pick anything yet, ill brb” and you scurried away to your room. suna was too tired to question so he only did what you requested. you came back to your spot with a basket of old films and videos/recordings. “these are ancient, you brought them with you when you moved out?” suna was surprised. “well they werent gonna be used at my parents’ anyways. and who knows, maybe we could watch some!” you smiled. and like that, he felt butterflies in his stomach. you guys have known each other for so long and dated for so long, but you still have the same effect on him. you rummaged through and found old recordings of your childhood. “wasnt that when we entered primary school? you were crying that day because we werent in the same class! you even tried to bribe someone to switch classes with you” your face reddened. you were so attached to suna at such a young age, and him bringing those memories back was a little bit embarrassing. “well i got over it didnt i? i survived. and besides, we saw each other at every break anyways!” you respond. you connected the film with the tv and enjoyed your old times with suna. you both had grown up with each other and experienced your whole life together. the proximity only made you both realize the mutual yearning and took the risky move of going out. safe to say youre both happier and more open with each other after you started dating 5 years ago. ending the night with a memory marathon was relaxing as it was nostalgic. you both giggled and cringed at the variety of clips. “i cant believe you were already looking at me with heart eyes since junior high! look its so evident in your eyes!” you say to suna as youre watching. in the video, you were both only 13 and performing a little skit to convince your parents to let you have a sleepover. and suna was on the side waiting for his turn, but he looked at you with so much love. he knew couldnt deny, he had liked you for so long, it turned into love not long after. he fell first but you fell harder. he just shrugged and squeezed you closer to his side. with refreshing drinks, and a warm atmosphere, both you and suna dozed off as the comforting silence cradled you both to sleep. after such a long day, you were still able to relax and enjoy it with suna. your very first friend, best friend, first love, and last love. its your biggest wish to stay like this with him forever until the end, because no one else made you feel so loved and warm inside.

stop why am i in love with suna

[thisismeracing]

komh thot

https://twitter.com/tennistaboo/status/ 1405721695453843460?lang=en

you cant tell me hamilton!reader wouldnt poke mick's cheek dimple at random times

mick doing an interview? she's sliding in frame, poking it, and the leaves without explanation

mick standing behind toto with his arms crossed watching the race? she's beside him also watching the race the looks over at her lover and pokes it and then focuses back to the chaos on track

mick is in front of her talking and eating his food? she is reaching over and poking the boys cute face feature

he doesnt know why she does it but lets it continue on for a while because it seems to make her happy and who is he to question it?

but the curiosity never leaves him, much like how he wondered who she was pre- first meeting, so one day he asks

maybe its during post-fuck cuddles and he quietly voices his question to her with his neck tucked into her neck

and she just pulls his face out from his hiding space and pokes his dimple once more and admits its one of her favorite parts of his face and poking it is her way of showing appreciation for it

[this was born from reading this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51746830]

hope you enjoyed!

☕️

*insert that connected minds meme*

twitter link

C, I was just thinking about it a few months ago, not especifically about the poking, but about how reader would just love his dimple (because yes its only one, only one side and she would find it so precious she would always kiss that spot before kissing his lips whenever they greeted each other or one were on the way out).

Hamilton!reader would freak out too after being all giddy and poking his cheek, and her mind takes her to wonder if their kids would have his dimples, or how their features would look mixed together, and then she’s like “wait no omg we’re too young, wdym kids?” and suddently she’s looking for lewis because she needs her brother, needs to vent about how she just had the thought about having kids with mick, to which lewis will be “only now? I thought you guys had talked about it a couple months ago” and she’s like “what? why?” and lewis tells her that a few months back, she poked his cheeks while they were playing video games in the living room and left to grav groceries, and mick accidentaly made a comment about how their kids would look like something along the lines of “I wonder if our baby will walk around poking my dimples like she does” and you can bet lewis just drops the remote, the crashing sound making mick realize what he just said. “is yn pregnant?” and mick is like “no why? did she tell you something?” and now both drivers are wide eyed. “I just…that was just a random thought, she’s not pregnant,” mick is tapping nervously on the controller, and lewis breaths in relief. “so that was just something you were thinking about?” “I guess,” mick shrugs still a bit nervous. “you’re thinking about kids…with my sister,” lewis repeats and mick seems to get the depth of the whole comment. he’s not scared though, he loves yn, and he wants her to be endgame. “she’s my girlfriend…” mick tries to add, but lewis points around as if searching the words, “and youre not even thirty yet!”

so yup, after she explains the poking thing mick would ask her how she sees their kids and though lewis told her about the whole convo they had, she will still be all teary eyed because their love is just so mutual 🥺😩 brb Im gonna cry

fic link

I loved it just how I love every thot you send, C!! *mwah* 💖💖💖💖

[akamikazae]

😳🥹😭💕

“Let me help you” 

I was thinking Kakashi…surprise surprise...but really anyone you’re comfortable writing for/with…just love me some hurt/comfort (sorry if this is too vague!) hope your day is less annoying now :)

Kakashi shouldn't be here. What was he thinking?

It's bad enough he's already gotten blood on the window and now on the bathroom door.

Akami is not going to be pleased.

His fingers tremble as he tries to open the meager first aid kit she keeps under the sink. He's perched on the side of the bathtub, legs too shaky to stand.

As he sheds his flak vest, letting it fall back into the tub behind him, Kakashi wonders where Akami is. He expected her to be home when he tumbled through her window. The eerie emptiness of the house makes him uneasy so late in the evening.

Is he really here? Or has he hallucinated his return? Maybe he's still lying in that field, rain and blood pooling beneath his body--indistinguishable from one another as they mix in the mud.

Kakashi's breath heaves as he tries to apply disinfectent to the wound. He could try to heal it with medical ninjutsu, but his fingers are too shaky. And anyway, he's never been a very good medic. With his vision swimming, now, he might make the wound worse if he tried.

He yelps a little when he finally gets a good amount of the stuff on his wound. Fuck, that hurts.

He doesn't like to admit the wave of relief he feels when he hears the front door open and close, feels Akami's chakra step inside the house. He pushes the door open with his foot so she won't think someone's trying to hide from her.

Her footsteps are soft against the floor, but he can sense they're heavier than usual. Kakashi looks up when she stops in the doorway and it becomes clear why--Sasuke is asleep in her arms, head drooped against one of her shoulders.

Oh. He shouldn't have come here.

Akami glares down at him, the dark circles beneath her eyes standing starkly out against the pallor of her skin. She says nothing, just sucks her teeth and continues on to Sasuke's bedroom. Kakashi can just hear the sounds of his sheets shifting as she tucks him into bed.

He should leave. Clearly, Akami is not interested in entertaining him this evening.

When she returns to the bathroom, she closes the door behind her quietly and kneels down before him without a word. Normally, he'd love this--seeing her on her knees does things to him he isn't necessarily proud of--but she looks so exhausted now all he feels is guilt.

"Sorry," he says, his breath pushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

Her gilded eyes flick up to meet his briefly and she sighs. "It's fine."

It isn't. "I'll go."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be stupid, you're already here. There's blood everywhere to prove it."

Kakashi winces, bites his tongue before he says sorry again, knowing she'll just be irritated if he does.

"Is Sasuke okay?" he asks instead.

Akami heaves a sigh, lets her forehead drop to Kakashi's knee. "He had a fever last night and it wouldn't go down. We've been at the Hospital all day."

Her fingers tremble almost as badly as his when she takes the disinfectant from him. He resists, not wanting to burden her any further than he already has. "Akami, it's okay, I've got it."

"Just let me help you," she snaps, glaring at him again, her pupils filed to the finest slits. "That's why you're here, right? For my help?" he nods mutely, recognizing that her irate energy is not entirely a product of his bloody appearance in her bathroom, but the culmination of all the stress Sasuke's condition surely caused her over the past twenty-four hours. "So let me help you," she repeats quietly.

"Okay," he says, relinquishing the bottle and the blood-soaked rag he'd used to apply it.

Akami cleans his wound without another word, wiping it clean and applying an antiobiotic ointment before wrapping a gauze bandage over it with much more finesse than he could have managed on his own.

"You should go to the Hospital tomorrow to have it better tended to," she says.

Normally, Kakashi would argue or lie, but he doesn't have the heart to do that to her now, so instead he threads his fingers into her hair and pulls her close so he can kiss her forehead through his mask.

"Okay," he promises, feeling her relax in his grip, her own hands coming to rest on his thighs, anchor herself. "I'm sorry about Sasuke," he says, "That must have been terrifying." She nods mutely, biting her lower lip in an uncharacteristic bid to keep her emotions from slipping out. "I'm glad he's feeling better."

Her voice is thready and thin when she answers, "Me, too."

There's still blood to clean off the window. And the doorway and the tub, but they ignore it, opting instead to make their way to Akami's bedroom where Kakashi lies on his good side and pulls her close. There will be blood to clean off the sheets in the morning, too, but that's a problem for then. All that matters now is that their breathing synchronizes, their nerves stop rapid-firing and the fight-or-flight they've both felt for different reasons over the previous hours dissipates.

Because there can be no danger while they hold one another. Akami is Kakashi's safe harbor. He thinks he might be hers, too. Suddenly, he's glad he stumbled through her window bloody and trembling and dazed. Not because she helped clean his wound, but so he can be here for her when she needs him.

There's nowhere else he'd rather be.

[yumemiruuuu]

“2ha moments that tainted my mind like how the Flower of Everlasting Hatred tainted his heart”

Part One because there is NO WAY that I will not have any more thoughts after re-reading and reading volume 5 like what the fuck, what the actual fuck.

“Chu Wanning, watch me fuck you to death”

Butterfly Town corpse procession where they both switched places and STILL ended up getting paired up and “married off” together, like just fucking kiss already LAWD.

The way Chu Wanning LITERALLY HAS THEM IN HIS ARMS???? WITH TIANWEN IN HIS OTHER HAND??? BECAUSE HE LITERALLY LOOKS OUT FOR THEM????? AND PROTECTS THEM???????? anyways, I love Chu Wanning. Chu Wanning my beloved. He is literally so gorgeous and I don’t care what everyone says in that universe about him because like if I saw him, I would literally also pull off a Mo Ran and beg for him to be my shizun.

The Xia Sini arc. That’s it. Literally my favorite arc, I WILL NOT fucking shut up about it. That arc healed something in me if you exclude the murder mysteries slasher movie elements to it. Ask me about it and I will answer every single one of your questions including the meaning of life.

MengMeng. Just… MengMeng because he occupies 28% of my thoughts following closely to Jiang Cheng who occupies 37%.

“Ah, JIANGUI!!” and then everyone clapped.

The Lake Jincheng moment when they get drugged and put to sleep and Mo Ran having that incredibly vivid dream about Chu Wanning getting violated by someone else and so he’s enraged and is like “I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS TO VIOLATE CHU WANNING”??? Like, what the hell was that?? Actually, what the hell was that whole Lake Jincheng arc????

On the topic of the Lake Jincheng arc, that whole bit with Xue Meng and him getting crushed over the fact that not only does he NOT get a holy weapon because everything was a lie, but also the fact that his previously orphaned nephew who came from such… horrible background got the only remaining true holy weapon?? I felt his pain so hard, dude. Like, Xue Meng, I feel you. I understand your pain.

This:

Shi Mei feeling up Mo Ran because he wasn’t paying attention to him and was being extra nice to Chu Wanning instead???? Like… what??? Can’t you be normal please???? I’m so sorry, I genuinely dislike the “sweet like honey” type characters because they always turn out to be assholes and I just can’t trust them maybe it’s also trauma and my trust issues but like goddamn Mo Ran literally have bad tastes if he liked Shi Mei I’m so sorry for saying this

Mo Ran having SUCH anxiety with his food to the point that he would literally WOLF IT DOWN in less than a day, and anything else, he hides because he’s so used to having his things taken away from him, and the relief he felt when Chu Wanning told him that there’s no need to rush because there’s always more for him when they’re eating together and just… brb I am genuinely going to cry.

The chapter title change from “This Venerable One…” to “Shizun, Won’t You Pay Attention To Me, Please Pay Attention To Me.”

Chu Wanning not knowing how to react to Mo Ran (seemingly) suddenly manifesting in front of him: “who the fuck is this child and where did he come from” ←this is totally a canon quote

“…he came with a low guttural roar.”

Mo Ran’s pronunciation guide

Anything beyond this point is Volumes 3/4 Spoilers so…

You’ve been warned (lol)

I am never getting over looking up Yuwu and 2ha connections, ONLY TO COME BACK FROM GETTING SPOILED THAT CHU WANNING IS MADE FROM WOOD?????

On a similar note, I was looking up Nangong Si because I wanted to see official art of him and found out that not only A) does he die (I actually went through a whole bit of copium this morning in the shower ober this because I randomly remembered it and was like “no he doesn’t… wait… does he… noo.. no… nooo…) but also B) Ye Wangxi is a female????

Now that I know about Chu Wanning literally being carved from wood, I can’t stop agonizing over Chu Wanning’s thoughts where he would compare his features to someone like… say, Shi Mei. How pained must it feel for him to have these thoughts knowing that he was MADE BY HAND. The facial features on him such as nose, jawline, chin… EVERYTHING was deliberately carved to look that way. That would honestly fuck me up so badly, especially since I also have my grievances about my appearance.

Although,,, to be honest, I actually don’t know if Chu Wanning is even aware of his own origins but IF HE DID, it probably fucks him up a ton. And I agonize over this every. single. day. Oh god, I just also remembered the part where Mo Ran specifically says to him: “Chu Wanning, are you made of wood?” Ohhh OHHHH OUCHIEEEE. VERY. OUCHIEEE.

Another thing that drove me insane is the scene in volume 3 (I’m pretty sure?) with the wontons where Mo Ran is narrating and lamenting over how he couldn’t remember what his shizun’s expression looked like when he shoved off the wontons Chu Wanning made… because he just…. couldn’t care less….. and just…. Knowing that Chu Wanning was the one who has been making Mo Ran’s wontons this entire time knowing that he would like them?? I literally CANNOT even begin to imagine the types of expressions that he could have possibly been making.

Just… like… Imagine being Chu Wanning, and you care SO MUCH about Mo Ran to the point that you are willing to sacrifice your own feelings for the sake of his happiness knowing that he likes your other disciple that is “much better looking”, and despite that, go out of your way to make him spicy wontons, even though you are not that good at making food AND dislike spicy foods. And then you make his favorite food to try to get him to cheer up even a little bit when one of your disciples (and your crush’s crush) dies and you proooobably blame yourself for it and not only does he essentially say “fuck you and your food” but he blames you and basically tells you that you’re a horrible person (which you most likely already blame yourself for and agonize over so now it also feels like someone else is confirming your sense of guilt) . Like, I would NOT be okay after that. I’m usually good at not showing my feelings but this would truly devastate me and fuck me up a lot to the point that I wouldn’t even know what to do.

[seeking-elsewhither]

Okay, so @brb-on-a-quest had the most wholesome response to me coming back with a piece from project throne, and I felt kinda bad because it was an unfinished piece.

It motivated me to work on a little more of some other pieces in the project, and I managed to finish one!

Taglist: @igotthisaccountunderduress and @hiddenvioletsgrow (consider yourself tagged already, brb, this one's for youuuuu)

the weeping stars

Relief, dearly and gladly bought, washes over Eruvanda when she descries at last Glanweth’s little form bundled in her brother’s arms. As a moss to a tree does she cling, her quiet, hiccoughing words replacing the bird-cries of the still morning air.

So early it is, the sun has refused to show face as yet. The air is fresh and chill, drifting down from the cresting ice of the mountains. Eruvanda draws the blanket tight when it gusts about her bare skin.

“And after,” she hears from the quivering child, “The beast swallows you whole. And Andir, and Ertan, and Vanda, and, and—”

With a broken cry, little Glanweth becomes a being wrought of heartbreak.

“You were gone, you were gone,” she wails into Manveru’s shoulder, “Gone, gone, gone.”

There is nothing so terrible as hearing a child weep for fear, least of all one’s own. And even after so many years past, so many sleepless nights spent begging relief from shrieking sobs, so many days spent soothing little sorrows; even still does Eruvanda’s heart writhe with the agony of her grief.

“Ai, little one, light of my heart,” whispers Manveru, kind as ever. He takes with all gentleness one little hand in his. “See here, my love! See now the warmth in my hand. See now the warmth of my breath. There is yet life in me. There is still a song in my heart. Do not weep, little one, do not fear. It was only a dream, I am yet alive.”

Further does the child burrow into him, her cries softening where they are drowned into his chest. He pulls her closer, holds her dear, swearing with his deeds the presence of life.

When he raises his head, he meets Eruvanda’s eyes, and silent anguish shadows his features. He is yet young, she is reminded, only two and thirty winters past. Forever does he seem with a foot towards the grave, dark and worn with fatigue.

Quietly, she comes to stand beside him, as ever she has stood when she was a child and he her stars.

“Terrors plague her,” he murmurs, long fingers running through midnight locks, “She could not sleep.”

Eruvanda places a hand on the girl’s quivering back, her brows drawn, a frown pulling her features. “When did she waken?”

“A few glasses past.”

Her eyes stretch wide. “I was not aware, nor did I hear her rise. If she disturbed your sleep—”

“Peace, dear one.” There is such sweetness in his smiling eyes, it makes her flush like the crimson-bellied dawn. “What is rest to the troubles of your souls?

“And in any matter,” the worry returns to his soft voice, like clouds over the moon, “Glan did not waken me, and she was prudent not to rouse any, I believe. You cannot be to blame, not when she has endeavored thusly.”

But another reason causes the shadow to be drawn over his face as a veil. She opens her mouth to give her question voice. With a sigh, heavy like the anchor of a ship, it is he who first speaks.

“I found her weeping silently in the garden.”

The garden. At such an hour. In the chill of a spring morning.

“By the Alfar,” Eruvanda breathes, staring at the slumbering child with new and frightened eyes.

“What could possess her, Vanda,” he says in haunted voice, her head held against his heart with a hand, “What has she beheld that drove her to seek comfort in the cold dew and not the embrace of one beloved? How long, how many have we missed for lack of notice?”

Dreamer, flashes the thought in her mind, Seer.

“Do you mean to say…”

His head dips, chin buried in the child’s hair. His eyes are closed, and his years are increased beyond even death’s mark. Even though his arms are wound strong around her little frame, he must forever bow under the knowledge that there is only so much he can protect her from.

“Aye, Eruvanda. I do.”

So it is, as it was, and it shall be.

At last, with the rising sun, comes a child to bear the strange and unwonted virtue of Vision.

[emopirates]

I’ve been looking for other media that will resonate like ofmd does for me

I was thinking about what other media has hit me in such personal specific ways as ofmd. So maybe I can crack the code and find even more???

Predictably I’m not having a lot of luck but I DID come up with 1 example: Severance on apple tv.

If you haven’t watched both shows, it may seem like an odd pairing, because OFMD is (mostly) a comedy (wth dramatic bits) and Severance is (mostly) a drama/thriller (with comedic bits). But what can I say my brain sparked to them both in a similar way! And I think there are reasons.

~ the mildest spoilers for seasons 1 of severance and ofmd ~

Both shows have:

10/10 ensemble comedy gold. Original, weird, character-based, funny joke-ass jokes and flawless comedic performances and amazing riffing. (OK so OFMD is a comedy and has much more of this? But even though Severance is NOT a comedy, its comic relief pops up in every ep and is extremely well done.)

a similar … editorial lushness? That thing of, every frame has something juicy to notice, fun little details, little nuances in facial expressions, inside jokes, meaningful uses of color or light or whatever. Also maybe: that thing where every scene is tightly edited to be ~just the good parts~ so by the end of the ep you’re like, that was v satisfying but also I need to apply another coat of it to my consciousness immediately because I’m sure I missed something.

awakenings. ok this is going to be a nebulous half-baked description but. There is this similar theme of characters unmasking / awakening / discovering and trusting themselves / going for things that society doesn’t expect for them. This thing of realizing the truth is within. IMO this is such a healing and important trope and I want to see so much more of it. You could argue this is more blatant in the pirate show? but I think it’s an important part of severance too.

By the way! Those first two bullets just make these things “good,” and plenty of things are good. I think it’s the third one that really makes the difference.

A few more thoughts:

If you are a pirates fan but haven’t seen Severance:

You would like these goofballs riffing in their cubicles for sure.

If you love Black Pete, you will love Dylan.

A character writes a self-help book you will like a lot.

There’s a tooth-achingly sweet gentle delicate romance tucked away within this fairly dark show and it is SO GOOD.

Severance is a lot darker than ofmd but idk, there’s enough sunshine streaming in. it’s joyful too.

If you are a severance fan but haven’t seen Our Flag Means Death:

Underdogs. Underdogs who are pirates. Because lawful society does not welcome them. And they find their chosen family and. Sorry I need to cry I’ll brb.

If you love Ricken (and even if you don’t) (but who doesn’t?????), you will also love Stede.

If you love The You You Are, you will love talking it through as a crew.

If you love the plant room, you will love this one little well cared for plant?

If you love queer romance watch this show.

In summary my brain liked these things a similar amount thank you for coming to my seminar. 

[totallyexhausted]

Sick Sasaki with caring Miyano (Aged-up fic) with Flashbacks...

Just small notes on one of the ff’s in case my computer deletes the files again (so I have like a triple backup)...

(Just random-ass notes for right now to have a back-up back-up for myself) - feel free to comment or motivate me lol jk brb crying....

Title: You’re So Cool (Yeah, You Are)

It started with a dull ache behind his eyes as he helped his mother knead dough for whatever the daily pastry was. The familiar action digging into his knuckles as his fingers cramped, and he winced as the dull ache traveled up his arms; and over the course of the morning, through the rest of his body.  

His mother had told him to go home several times; his sister even threatening to shove him out the door if he didn’t at least take off early. Towards the end of his shift however, the threats were no longer empty-handed nor needed because Sasaki left willingly. He’d tried to power through the rest of his shift, but the smell of bread, cookies, and other sickly-sweet pastries he normally loved, was overpowering, nauseating; and he was pretty sure Satoko was going to punch him if he stayed longer…

The walk home had been a blur for the most part. A quick train ride that resulted in him jolting awake as the doors dinged open, his stop echoing over the loudspeaker, and whispered chatter from too many people, from too much noise. Sasaki never really registered he’d made it home until he pushed past the threshold of his and Miyano’s one-bedroom apartment, tripping over the white-haired cat as she tangled herself under his feet with a loud meow.

The 21-year-old exhaled loudly as he collapsed face-down against the couch. He pressed his cheek against the crappy blue material, hoping the rough fabric would provide the same cool relief the train window had; his left hand ghosting the wooden ground as the cat nipped at his fingers gently. He shifted, his left leg falling from the couch; his right foot knocking some BL books from the end table.

The couch was way too small- or he was too tall, or both. Miyano could barely stretch out on the discounted furniture, but Sasaki? Sasaki was 6’2… so finding something he didn’t have to curl up on, something he could fully lounge on, was difficult. Being 6’2 was difficult. He was always ducking down, hitting his head, towering over people his age. Intimidating. That’s what Hirano had said once; tall people could be intimidating. A sentiment Sasaki had found ironically hilarious as Kagiura was quite a few inches taller than he; towering over Hirano more than Sasaki did.

           The cat meowed again, pawing at the 21-year-old’s fingers before biting his hand, and Sasaki ran his fingers through her white hair tiredly. He inhaled softly, “Hi, Wasabi.”

           The cat had been his boyfriend’s idea. A lost kitten found wondering aimlessly outside their university. Needless to say, a stormy night and one look into Miyano’s big brown eyes, and the cat had wormed her way into a loving home. It wasn’t that Sasaki wasn’t a cat person because he was- he just preferred dogs more. He’d been surprised when Miyano brought home the small white ball of fluff, both him and the cat shivering from the rain pelting down outside because it was either carry the kitten or an umbrella. A few days later Sasaki couldn’t imagine their apartment without a cat; just like he couldn’t imagine his life without Miyano.  

           Sasaki groaned loudly as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he shifted again, his foot knocking something else from the end table. He needed to stop moving, or at the very least, pick up the objects he’d knocked down. But he was so tired, and the idea of moving from the couch, of sitting up, bending down to pick up manga left out or papers disregarded, seemed like too much of a task. Too exhausting. Too much effort. I’m so lame…

           Wasabi meowled, jumping onto his back, rubbing her face in his orange hair and purring loudly. She was probably hungry. She was always hungry… but she’d have to wait because there was no way Sasaki was getting up right now. His head hurt too much; the sun filtering through blinds halfway shut, the cool Autumn air wafting through windows left open, and the noise of children playing outside was enough to make everything feel somewhat wrong and off-kilter. Everything seemed off-kilter. Distant, and yet, so very close; so very loud, and hot.

           The 21-year-old’s phone vibrated again, and Sasaki wondered if Miyano was texting him. He’d be in-between classes now, and Sasaki knew his sister had probably texted his boyfriend the second he left the bakery, if not before. Satoko probably had the 20-year-old on speed dial, ready to call his boyfriend to come pick up her giant mess of a brother if he hadn’t left when he did. She’d always been that way; overprotective, and so goddamn stubborn.  

           Sasaki cleared his throat, pulling his arm back on the couch, tucking it under his chest as he shivered. Something clattered to the ground as he tried pulling his leg back on the tiny futon, and Wasabi scattered from the room as the 21-year-old cursed softly. He really really needed to stop moving before he broke everything in the living room. Sasaki huffed as he let his foot slam against the floor again and closed his eyes.

           He probably could have crashed in the bedroom; at least there was less stuff for him to knock on the ground there, and it was darker. But it was too far away, and he needed to get up soon; he needed to cook dinner. It was Tuesday which meant he was in charge of making food. It was one of his boyfriend’s busiest days, just like Thursdays and Saturdays were his; besides, Miyano cooked every Thursday; hell, he cooked most of the time since they started living together last year, so the 21-year-old could at least take care of Tuesdays. He could at least do that for him because it felt like Miyano did everything else. Sasaki was just so useless sometimes. So damn useless.

           …His fingers were so cold; fingertips tracing the warm flesh painted on Sasaki’s chest, and the 19-year-old held Miyano’s gaze. He couldn’t look away- he didn’t want to… Miyano, I love…

           He opened his eyes and shifted to his back, grimacing at the small action as nausea coursed through him. He put a hand on his stomach slowly as the ceiling above him spun. He’d barely eaten anything today, but with how he was feeling now, he’d probably forgo dinner. Maybe he’d make something simple; something easy; something he didn’t have to put a lot of effort into, so Miyano could at least eat. As long as Miyano was okay, as long as he was taken care of, then the rest didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.

           Wasabi reappeared, jumping up on the futon again as Sasaki let his right arm dangle off the couch, smacking it against the leg of the coffee table. He pulled his legs up so his feet rested against the end of the couch instead of the now free end table. It was cramped. He was cramped, but at least the room stopped moving; and the nausea subsided.

           The 21-year-old groaned, swallowing as children screamed in the alley below. He closed his eyes again, sighing as the white cat cuddled between the crook of his neck and the back of the couch, licking at his piercings. Sasaki turned his head away from her, hoping she’d get the message and stop, but Wasabi was a cat- so what was he really expecting?

           She meowed noisily in his ear before licking at the piercings again. They were shiny. Small. Distracting. And Wasabi was either trying to be affectionate or trying to eat them; her two moods; either cute and cuddly or the devil disguised as a 4-pound ball of fluff.

 He just needed to rest his eyes for a few minutes…    

 ………………………………

             The second time he’d gotten drunk, he’d been 19. The first on his 16th birthday which was an accident on his mother’s part, unaware of the percentage of alcohol in some foreign sweet drink she’d gifted him… But the second time? The second time had been all him.

           It started as a misunderstanding on Sasaki’s part. His stupid impulses and selfish attitude. His lameness. He’d thought Miyano was breaking up with him; after all, they’d gotten into an argument. Something stupid and unimportant. But an argument, nonetheless. And Sasaki had told him he loved him. For the first time. Out loud.

Hirano and Ogasawara had tried to help; had tried to cheer him up, but they didn’t help much. Neither did the alcohol, despite there being a lot of it. Honestly, he hadn’t meant to get as drunk as he did- after all, he hated the taste of alcohol… but, Hirano and Ogasawara had Sake, which was sweeter; and the easiest way to get over his own stupidity, was, in the 19-year-old’s mind, to get drunk.

           Whatever he and his friends had done that night, Sasaki couldn’t remember. Well, most of it, he couldn’t. He did, however, remember fireworks. Ordering enough Sake to satisfy a small village. A convenience store with way too many snack choices. Several drinks with names too serious for its size. An old man threatening them. Ogasawara arguing on the phone with his girlfriend while him and Hirano made fun of him. Vomiting. Hirano drunk dialing Kagiura. More fireworks. Cheap beer. Some guys shoving him against a wall before Hirano tackled them. A window breaking. Running from the cops. Falling off some swings. Taking way too many train rides to God knows where. And finally, Hanzawa basically carrying him to his apartment which was weird because he hadn’t been with them to begin with. But everything else in-between or figuring out how those events connected together or in what order, was anyone’s guess.

           He’d woken up the next morning in his sister’s room when she threw a bottle of water his direction demanding he drink it since the 19-year-old had apparently stumbled through the door, puking up bitter-tasting Sake and cheap beer on her floor, before passing out on her bed, crying over Miyano.

           That’d honestly been the first time he’d ever sought his sister for comfort, and the first time she’d openly known about him and Miyano. It wasn’t like Sasaki had hidden it, but it wasn’t like she’d asked either. Or maybe she didn’t really care; or figured her brother would tell her when he was ready. And evidently, at 3am, drunk off his ass, he was ready.

           It wasn’t a fond experience in Sasaki’s book, mainly because he spent the day after powering through a shift with a headache from hell and stopping every half hour so he could step into the alley to vomit, but it was nice to see his sister cared enough to be there for him; after calling him the biggest idiot she’d ever known. She’d called Miyano when his shift ended as the younger had been texting non-stop since Sasaki had stormed out of his room the day before; but the older teenager had been too afraid to glance at the messages scribbled across his phone.

           Sasaki hadn’t known Satoko had called Miyano until he slid down the side of the concrete building of the bakery after taking the trash out and throwing up the last of the foul-tasting alcohol souring his stomach. He held his head between his knees as someone nudged his foot, and Sasaki glanced up, squinting against the sun hanging high in the sky towards Miyano standing over him, holding out one of the sweet peach drinks he liked. Honestly seeing him, the older thought he was going to puke again, but he accepted the cold beverage.

           Miyano slid down next to him, sighing loudly as Sasaki felt his breathing catch, his heart racing. He didn’t really want to see the younger teen, mainly because he was too afraid of his answer; too afraid he’d reject him. Too afraid he’d end it. Just like Hanzawa and-

           “What are you doing here, Mya-chan?” He asked softly, opening the drink, taking a few tentative sips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He swallowed loudly as the younger sighed again, “You weren’t answering. I was worried about you… and your sister called me.”

           Sasaki clicked his tongue; he told her he didn’t want to see Miyano, that he couldn’t talk to him right now, but she called anyway. Typical. Brat.

The 19-year-old smacked the back of his head against the wall, glaring towards the sun as he took another slow sip. He clenched his other hand against his thigh as the thought of running invaded his mind. He wanted to leave because that’s what he did. When things got too difficult. Or too upsetting. Or too much. When his emotions felt like too much, and he didn’t know how to deal; he left. He always left. Because he was more afraid of what would happen if he stayed. If he hurt someone. Again. Like he’d hurt his sister a few years ago… Perhaps that’s why Satoko called Miyano when she did, because he was trapped; he was forced to talk to the 18-year-old; forced to deal with his emotions…

“Look, Miya,” Sasaki whispered, his voice low and shaky, “I’m sorry about yesterday. It was selfish when I-”

“Wait. Sasaki, I think you misunderstood. Sometimes it’s hard to find the words- to get the point across…” Miyano cut in softly, “I wasn’t telling you I didn’t- I wasn’t saying we should break-up. Honestly, I’d hate that. I mean, I don’t know- that would suck. It’d be horrible because…”

Sasaki swallowed again, his breath hitching as he took another drink, drowning the anxiety sitting in his stomach, the sick taste of sake haunting his throat. Every movement Miyano made, every breath he took, every syllable, becoming the older teenager’s only sounding board as cold fingers intertwined with his shaking ones pressed against his thigh. Sasaki felt like he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. He didn’t want to do or say anything that would fuck this up; he didn’t want to move the wrong way, say the wrong thing, express anything wrong, impulsive, selfish… and yet…

“I-I, yesterday, I was trying to,” Miyano paused momentarily, glancing towards Sasaki, “I want us to move in together- if you want to, and if you need some time to think about it, that’s okay. I love you, and I don’t want to pressure you; I mean you waited so long for me to-”

Sasaki choked on his drink, coughing loudly as the words hit him, and he put the bottle on the ground, wiping away the sweet liquid dribbling from his chin before turning towards Miyano. He felt his heart lurch as he pressed his hand against the 18-year-old’s cheek, cold fingers meeting warm flesh, and he pulled the younger boy towards him; his lips ghosting over Miyano’s before Sasaki breathed and pulled away sharply. He lingered before dropping his hand, letting it rest against the younger teenager’s chest, his heartbeat strong and fast. Matching the fast-paced breath leaving Sasaki’s lips, matching his heart pounding against his ribs.

“S-sorry,” he muttered, looking around sheepishly as the impulsive action left him, “I didn’t mean to do that- I- my mouth probably tastes disgusting right now.”

Miyano hummed, his fingers grasping harder at Sasaki’s still pressed against his thigh. He shifted as Sasaki dropped his hand from his chest and snaked his own fingers up the older teenager’s neck, his hand stopping at Sasaki’s jaw line as the 19-year-old glanced in his direction. Miyano moved closer, pulling the older towards him as the sweet smell of bread that clung to Sasaki’s clothes everyday reached his nose, and he smiled.

“I don’t care. I love you,” Miya whispered as Sasaki hesitated, his lips hovering over Miyano’s before the younger teenager pulled him the rest of the way towards him…

 He didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was dark now. The sun that had pierced through his clenched eyelids a few mere hours beforehand, no longer present; the soft chirping of crickets hidden in patches of grass littered along the alley, and the soft breeze of an imminent rainstorm blowing through the open windows, made everything clear. So no, Sasaki didn’t need to open his eyes to know a significant amount of time had passed. Nor did he need someone to tell him that the reason Wasabi was angrily attacking his foot as his right leg hung off the couch, pulling his body dangerously towards the floor, was due to the fact that he’d missed feeding her. Her loud mewling and harsh bites were more than enough to get the message across. He’d fucked up in his fatherly duties towards her.

           He did, however, flinch when he felt cool fingers press against his forehead, and cheek, before running through his sweaty hair. He groaned loudly, leaning into the soft touch as he tried to think of who else would have a key to his and Miyano’s apartment. His sister? His mother… She wouldn’t care enough to come over. Hirano? Ogasawara? Although Ogasawara had never once been this gentle towards him even when he was feeling off or had broken bones; and Hirano coming to their apartment without knocking a million times would be weird. Hanzawa would come over, but Sasaki was pretty sure he didn’t have a key… he was resourceful though…

           The 21-year-old groaned as he pried his eyes open, wincing as the dusky moonlight hit his eyes, making the room spin in a multitude of greys, blues, and pale browns. He swallowed as he tried moving his arm over his head, to shield his eyes despite forcing them open, but his movements were weak and feeble. Clumsy and stupid. He felt clumsy and stupid. It was annoying.

           Fingers paused at his hairline, brushing away bangs matted to his forehead, and Sasaki blinked. He turned his head slightly, his hand pressing against his stomach, and he yelped as sharp teeth bit into one of his toes, jerking his leg away as it slammed against the end table, and something shattered to the ground. There was a shushing sound before a cold hand pressed against his cheek gently, turning his head, and Sasaki blinked again as his eyes slowly met the blurry image of his boyfriend.

…soft material pulled over his orange hair and thrown against the wooden floor. Sasaki held his breath as Miyano pushed him back against the comforter… No one’s going to be home for at least another hour, you know, we could test that theory… His fingers were so cold, and yet so… Miya, are you nervous?

“Hey, Mya-chan,” Sasaki slurred softly, a smile toying on his lips as cool fingers continued to thread through his hair. He sounded drunk. Maybe he was. He’d only been drunk twice in his short existence on this planet, and neither time felt like this, but then again… Words were too hard to form. Exhaustion hung heavy in his eyes, making the world hard to see; a dull ache deep in his bones, riding the piercing headache throbbing through his temples and up his neck. Everything was too warm right now, so nauseatingly warm, and the thought of having to move from his semi-comfortable spot on their too short couch, made Sasaki’s head spin.  

“Hey,” Miyano whispered, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s soft strands, “Are you not feeling well, Sasaki? I think you have a fever.”

A fever? The 21-year-old closed his eyes as he tried to process the information. A fever didn’t sound right. He was too cold for that. The night air that pricked against his skin, eating away at the cold sweat plastered beneath his red t-shirt, and tan cardigan he had haphazardly draped over himself in order to keep Wasabi from gnawing at the black bracelets wrapped around his wrist, told him he was cold. Not hot. Besides, he just had a headache… and he was nauseous. And tired… maybe sore from work. But a fever? No, that didn’t sound right.  

“I’m fine,” Sasaki hummed, twisting to his side, bringing his knees to his chest slowly as Miya shifted and the couch dipped slightly as the 20-year-old moved to sit on the edge. Sasaki turned further, burying his head against his boyfriend’s thigh as Miyano pressed a steady hand against his back, brushing some sweat-soaked hair away from the latter’s neck. He bit his bottom lip, carding his slender fingers through the older’s hair again before placing a firm hand between his shoulder blades, his fingers cold and worried against warm sticky fabric.

Silence evaded the small living space as thunder clapped in the distance. Outside leaves dragged across the street as wind bustled through the open window, the curtains dancing freely against the breeze. The distant smell of rain lingering on the air, chilling the breath wisping past Sasaki’s dry lips as he pressed his face further against Miya’s thigh. You have to be more mindful, Shuumei, otherwise, if you’re not careful, you’re going to hurt someone you really care about...  

“Well, why don’t we check,” The 20-year-old cooed, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Wasabi meowled loudly as Miyano exited the small living room, and Sasaki ran a hand over his face, trying to rub away some of the exhaustion plaguing his body, trying to will himself to feel better. It was a useless task. And the fact that he had slept so long when he was supposed to make dinner before his boyfriend came home, wasn’t helping his current situation.

He really needed to get up. This was so lame. He was so lame. Sasaki groaned loudly as he uncurled himself, grasping at the arm of the small futon as he forced his body to sit up. The room shifted violently, and the 21-year-old let his head flop against the back of the cushions, sweat trailing lazily past his temple. He grit his teeth, closing his eyes as nausea washed over him, and he put a firm hand against his stomach as he concentrated on the rain beginning to fall. It hit the windowsill softly, clinking against the metal frame before sliding down the rest of the open glass, soaking against the wooden ledge.

Sasaki swallowed. His breathing noisy and congested as he held onto the sound of the rain, the thunder looming in the distance, and Wasabi weaving between his legs. The room around him felt thick. And cold. And any movement he made or tried to make, made his headache worse; made the blood rush to his head, the air dizzy and light. It sucked. He sucked. Great, he was feeling sorry for himself now… How pathetic.

“Hey! Sasaki! Are you okay? Is it worse?”

Nervous footsteps followed by a soft smack against his side, and Sasaki opened his eyes against the warning nauseatingly coursing through his veins, the black dots eating away at his vision, and the headache crawling up his neck, pulsating behind his eyes. He smiled slowly as Miyano pressed his hand against his chest; his mind drifting to the first time. His first. Theirs…

…Miyano’s fingers sliding over his bare chest, sliding down… down… down… He’d been so gentle, and yet, so clear about what he wanted… so dominant- Miya had been surprisingly assertive… it was nice… His cold fingers warming against Sasaki’s back, pressed against his spine, feeling his heart pounding through his chest… fingers…  

“Shuumei?”

“I’m fine,” The 21-year-old breathed, or at least, tried breathing through his nose as he ran a shaky hand through his sweaty orange hair. He really needed to get a handle of his current situation because this was weak. He was cooler than this. He wished he was cooler than this. He swallowed again, meeting his boyfriend’s gaze, “I’m sorry about dinner, Mya-chan…”

A small smirk crossed Miyano’s face as he laughed softly, “I’m not worried about it. Your sister said you didn’t look well, so I grabbed something after my 3rd. I just wanted to see you; I was worried about you.”

Sasaki felt his breathing catch, his hand unconsciously moving from his stomach towards Miyano’s pressed against his chest, over his pounding heartbeat. His warm fingers ghosting over the back of the 20-year-old’s hand before he caught himself, recoiling carefully and let his hand drop to his side. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself up further, his whole body protesting the action. He didn’t go to his evening classes… Why. Why would he do that…

“Why? Why wouldn’t you go to your evening classes? They’re important,” Sasaki whispered, blinking several times, clearing the dizziness washing over him as he tried focusing on the emotion present on his boyfriend’s face versus the sick feeling aching in his stomach. Miyano ran a gentle hand through Sasaki’s hair, his hand trailing to his cheek. He grimaced as his fingers met the uncomfortable warmth sitting under the older’s flesh. He cleared his throat, “Well, isn’t it obvious? You don’t feel well. And I wanted to take care of you… I wanted to see you. You’re more important than missing a few classes.”

The 21-year-old let his head gradually drop against Miyano’s shoulder, hoping that the heat he felt crawling up his neck, flushed against his cheeks and ears was due to the fever he supposedly had. His orange hair falling over his face as he tried so damn hard to keep it together. Everything was getting to him right now. Miyano’s touches, his concern, his love; his own emotions washing through him in uncontrollable waves as he fought to keep himself together. But everything was starting to feel like too much. Again. His anxiety, his depression, his weak-willed mind threatening to break against the love he felt for Miyano and the love he was willing to return. Too much… it happened; more so when he felt like shit… when he had a harder time keeping himself in line… Man, Miyano. What you’ve done for me- What you do for me. I like it all, and I-I’m so anxious, so nervous I’m going to fuck it up. I’m going to mess this up… I’m so scared I’m going to ruin it… ruin you… I’m terrified I’m going to hurt you…  

Cool fingers against his cheek again, dusting under his chin, pulling his head up, and Sasaki found himself blinking towards his boyfriend; concern etched into his big brown eyes. Miyano cocked his head slightly; thunder echoing outside as the curtains whipped past the open window, rain pelting harder against the sill. Wasabi scattered from the room as lightning hit the roof across the street and a car alarm blared in the distance.

“Let’s see if you have a fever, hm?” Miyano said softly, his hand steadily tracing over Sasaki’s shoulder blades as the older leaned against him, his head returning to the younger’s shoulder. Silence evaded them, filing the small room in an uncomfortable stillness.

  that was usually foreign- even Wasabi’s soft pitter patter or purring….

“38.6… You do have a fever,” The 20-year-old confirmed, his voice wavering under a sad tone that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. Sasaki exhaled loudly, turning his head further against Miyano’s shoulder. Sitting up was getting to him. The rain beating against the windowsill was getting to him… he was getting to himself. Everything. Was. Becoming. Too. Much. You’re a big guy… You have to be more mindful, Shuumei… otherwise…

 Sorry about that

Sasaki wasn’t really sure what else to say. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if that was the right thing to say, but words were getting difficult to process.

….

  You’re a big guy. You’re stronger than you think. You have to be more mindful, Shuumei, otherwise…

  “We should get you to bed,” Miya whispered…

  A month after they’d moved in, Miyano had suggested a 4-day trip to the coast to celebrate the end of his first term in university. A small vacation since they’d both been stressed, both dealing with the strain of exams, late-night studying, and their hectic schedules they could never seem to sync-up despite living together. It had been a nice idea considering neither one of them had ever been to the beach; and relaxing in the water, discussing the types of BL fantasies Miyano could come up with while laying in the sand together, their fingers intertwined, sounded nice.

The problem was, Sasaki got motion sickness easily, and meds didn’t always help. The train ride to and from university (like in high school), he could usually handle; but taking one that lasted several hours, was torture. He didn’t remember much about the ride except he tried sleeping through most of it; his head leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder, his fingers intertwined tightly with Miyano’s, and Miyano running his thumb over the outside of his hand in order to offer a small comfort as Sasaki tried keeping down the constant wave of nausea through passing countryside. For the most part, he did well- only vomiting the second he stumbled from the train, and the constant dull ache of sickness pitted in his stomach a few hours after. The ride back had been a completely different story though.

Despite the meds Sasaki had crammed down his throat before the train left the station; a majority of the scenery passed by in a nauseating blur of apologies, and Miyano’s soft touches grounding him in the hellish reality he was trying so hard to black out. Five hours. Five hours pitted against a cool glass window of greens, blues and tans; five hours where every 10 minutes, Sasaki was trying to puke up his stomach lining; five hours with no relief, no form of exhaustion strong enough to rip him from the motion of the giant steam engine powering down unfamiliar tracks. By the time they’d reached their apartment, Sasaki was nothing more than a towering mess of apologies and fatigue. Honestly, it broke Miyano’s heart, and made Sasaki feel weak and lame.

They had barely made it over the threshold before Sasaki collapsed, and Miyano could no longer support his boyfriend’s weight. Despite Miyano standing at a comfortable 5’9, Sasaki was taller and bigger than he was; that made it harder for the younger to help the way he wanted- to care for him the way Sasaki could for him. Needless to say, they’d spent the next few hours sitting in the cramped hallway; Sasaki leaning against Miyano, nodding off between quiet conversations and desperate attempts to stretch his lanky form against a confined space.

 I love you, Yoshikazu. I-

This can’t happen, Sasaki.

What?

I mean, I’m graduating next month, and then we’ll both be in university, and I don’t know how much time we’ll have to see each other outside of-

Stop it. … Uh, Sorry. I should go. (leaves)

  Miyano.

 His voice. Echoes whispered around him in a confusing fashion; hard to grasp as words he couldn’t really make out, a conversation he couldn’t follow, pushed around him.  

 “…really sick…”

“…can’t keep anything down…yeah, A&E…”

“…40.9…”

“He’s… scaring me…”

 He’s scaring me.

  “Yoshi…ka…zu…”

Sasaki’s pretty sure the name didn’t make it past his lips; dry heat shoved against aching flesh, pain nauseatingly eating against his cheekbones, running behind his ears, his eyes, down his neck- making every movement, every thought so damn difficult to process. Something was wrong- something felt wrong, off… so very off. He felt-

Cold fingers running through his orange hair softly as he tried repeating the name; hoping, praying that somehow the syllables crawled past his chapped lips; his mouth heavy and dry, moisture sucked through air that was hard to breathe. He groaned loudly as he opened his eyes, biting back the wince that rose up his throat as the dim light hit him; the room spinning in a multitude of sickening colors, his body wavering against stilled sheets, dizzy and nauseating. And. So. Fucking. Hot.

Miyano’s face filled his vision, concerned alarm plastered on pale features, and Sasaki swallowed slowly. He clenched his eyes shut again, the bedroom twirling in a mess of dimly lit pounding, and hot breaths shakily panting past his lips. His breathing was sporadic, harsh, hard to fully take in as air burned against his throat, his lungs, his heart racing, matching a pitch he couldn’t breathe, and he tried to move his hand only to find the task difficult and useless. He was useless. Sometimes. So damn useless. He’s scaring me… I’m afraid of you, Sasaki…

…Fingers pulling his shirt from his body, pulling it over his orange hair before throwing it against the floor, and Sasaki glanced at Miyano as the younger pressed his hand against his bare chest, shoving him back against the older boy’s comforter. The 19-year-old held his breath, letting the younger have control… letting him control the situation, too afraid he’d ruin it, too afraid he’d mess it up.

Miyano fumbled with Sasaki’s belt, his legs on either side of the older boy, and the 19-year-old let his fingers hover before he gripped the 18-year-old’s thighs; his fingertips cold and nervous as he trailed up his body, resting at the hem of Miyano’s white shirt…

Something gripped behind his shoulders, pulling him up, and the 21-year-old whined pitifully as the world shifted, his body forced into a sitting position. He opened his eyes before shutting them as the room moved violently, and he gagged harshly as he let his head fall against someone’s chest; their heartbeat echoing around him, aching against the migraine embedded in his temples. Gentle fingers gripping again at his shoulder; words- words he couldn’t make out, and someone gripping again, trying to move him, trying to get him to move despite Sasaki’s pathetic attempts to curl in on himself.

“Sasaki, please, you need to get up!”

Miyano’s voice reaching his ears, and the older whimpered…

  He was so weak and lame. He was lame… Miyano was always so cool… Sasaki never understood why the younger boy felt the need to hide himself because to him, there was no one more cool than Miyano. Nothing the younger ever did, or could ever do, would embarrass Sasaki.

Sasaki is not subtle.

Sasaki liked sweet things, and Miyano was by far the sweetest. His favorite.

 Sasaki was panting. The breath forced past dry lips and rough mouth as he tried licking his lips, but no moisture …

 Miyano was talking but Sasaki didn’t think it was to him. The conversation, well the bits he could grasp, seemed one-sided at best.

  Bed

Puking

nightmare

Shower

Fight scene?

Waking up next to Miya…

Sasaki sees bruise on Miyano, and it triggers him because he thinks he hurt him- he didn’t- crying…

Talks with Hirano because he’s dealt with Kagiura being ill a lot, and he knew he’s been to the A&E several times…

             Miyano had called Hirano in a panic.

“Look, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to get him up. I don’t care if he doesn’t want to. Get him up, throw him in the shower or the bath- it doesn’t matter. You need to try and cool him off. He might struggle- Kagiura always does with high fevers, but you need to keep him in the water- he’ll stop fighting you after a few minutes. Check his temperature in 10 minutes- if it hasn’t started to drop, even a little bit- take him to A&E or call for an ambulance. You got that, Miyano? 10 minutes.”

 “If it looks like his fever’s starting to drop, keep checking every fifteen minutes or so until you feel comfortable with the change. Keep pushing fluids but try to do it slow enough that he doesn’t puke it back up… if he does, it’s not the end of the world. But if his fever starts dropping, and he still can’t keep anything down or his mood hasn’t changed like he’s still lethargic and stuff, call me back or take him to A&E. Clear?”

Water washed over him and for a ---- leaning his head against Miyano’s chest in the shower, his shirt gone, Miya’s heartbeat strong against his spine…. Water-

 Sasaki is terrified of hurting Miyano--- sisters words echoed in his head. You’re stronger than you think. You have to be mindful, otherwise if you’re not careful, you’re going to hurt someone you really care about.

 “Yoshik-”

“Shh, shut up, Sasaki. Just relax…”

 “We need to check your temperature,”

40.6. It was going down. Not significantly… but it was still going down, nonetheless.

 “You need to drink,” Miya said softly, pressing the bottle to Sasaki’s lips again, tipping it slightly, hoping the older boy would accept it this time. The older boy groaned, his head lolling against Miyano’s shoulder weakly before the 20-year-old tried again….

 “Shuumei, please, drink,”

 “I’m sorry, Miya. I’m really sorry.”

 “Let me help you- I want to help you.” You don’t feel well. And I want to take care of you. To make you feel better.

  Miya dominating was always surprising… but then again, Sasaki wasn’t exactly dominant.

 Although Miyano never reached Sasaki’s height, he still rested at a comfortable 5’8…

 Sasaki wouldn’t let him help him…

Please, let me help you. I want to help you!

Don’t w-worry, Mya-chan; I got it.

 “Hey, you’re shivering. Are you cold?”

Sasaki flinches when Miyano goes to touch him, and M pulls back. Instead he goes over the other side of the bed, sitting next to him…

“Can I touch you, Sasaki?”

“Is this okay?”

 “Isn’t it obvious…”

 Sasaki wasn’t as cautious or self-conscious as Miyano was. He was braver… cooler… Sasaki was protective over Miyano, so it was nice that Miyano could return the favor despite their current situation. Truth was, Miyano was better at caretaking than Sasaki was; the older boy tried, sure- and for the most part, Sasaki always went out of his way to make the younger feel better, but with Miyano- it just came naturally. He didn’t overthink it. But his mother was more nurturing than Sasaki’s was… his parents were more involved than Sasaki’s…

 Shuumei ()

 Sasaki stumbles, basically falling on top of Miyano

“Miyano!” Sasaki thrws himself against the wall, the pics against his weight, “Did I hurt you?”

“No! Sasaki! It’s okay, it just surprised me- It’s okay!”

 “I might be smaller than you and a little shorter than you, but I’m not fragile. I’m not made of glass… and I’m not going to break –

 I love you, Shuumei.

Again. Please…

    It caught me off guard.

Man, I wish I were cooler….

             His last month in high school, Sasaki had gotten into some trouble. Some serious trouble that almost cost him his graduation. Some trouble that made others in class, especially the younger classmen, afraid to approach the 18-year-old… because of Miyano. Because Miyano had done something stupid. Because he had acted stupidly.

Miyano had gotten into a fight; or at least, tried to break one up between four younger classmen. He hadn’t meant to get involved, honestly; but he’d been waiting for his boyfriend when he saw the fight break out. Three pitted against one. Against someone smaller than them, someone Miyano knew from one of his classes; quiet, reserved, kind. Someone that reminded him of himself… it wasn’t a fair fight. And the 17-year-old had tried to stop it. Had tried to help.

Maybe he thought that if he showed his face as their superior, their upperclassman, the bullies would fear disciplinary action and take off running. Or maybe he thought that because he was bigger than he’d been the previous year, taller, broader, he could help; step in line, shove the other kid away and tell him to run… something. But that’d been stupid. Idiotic.

He didn’t remember getting punched. Nor did he remember blacking out. But he remembered waking up on the ground, ringing in his ears as he fought to turn his head against the black dots eating away at his vision. Everything blurry, slow, out of focus; hard to piece together in one confusing fashion. His head hurt, the sharp ache lining his jaw, crawling up his cheekbone and landing, harshly, against his eye.

           He had tried sitting up, only to be pushed back down gently, someone telling him to stay down; the sharp ringing echoed through his head as he slumped against the wall, bringing a slow hand to his face. The movement was numb. Alien. Disorienting. He felt disconnected from himself, like his brain was lagging, taking longer to process what his body wanted.

           Red coated his fingers as he pulled his hand away, and he remembered throwing up. The harsh sound piercing through any blackness trying to pull him under, and Miyano winced as he dragged a dazed hand across his chin, smearing blood across his fingers and wrist. He felt strong hands pressed against his shoulders, yelling around him, screaming; slow movements of people crowding before him... and then…  

           His mind had caught up.

Everything hitting him with an overpowering realization as Ogasawara’s yelling reached his ears; Hirano’s panicked voice as he urged Miyano to stay down, saying something to Kagiura a few feet away. A blurry mass of upperclassmen; Ogasawara running behind Hirano, pulling someone up, shoving them away harshly; shouting something that Miyano couldn’t grasp yet.

 It took him a few seconds to register that Ogasawara was yelling Sasaki’s name; that he was telling him to stop…

 Sasaki had the boy by the collar, pinned on the ground, his knuckles bloody and busted as the older boy continued to beat the underclassman; Ogasawara wrapping his arms around the 18-year-old trying to pry him away from the barely conscious teenager, trying to pull the red-haired off him but Sasaki shoved him off, Ogasawara stumbling back, smacking against the wall.

 Sasaki wasn’t one to pick fights often; according to Ogasawara and Hirano, he wasn’t great in one. He could hold his own, sure, but he wasn’t great… and when he saw Miyano go down from across the yard, he just… lost it.

 He shouted something towards Hirano who turned, flying to his feet as Kagiura put a steady hand against Miyano’s shoulder. Hirano …. Pulling Sasaki away from him.

 Ogasawara

           Apparently when Miyano had gotten punched, he smacked against the brick wall, hitting his head, splitting it open. 17 stitches and a mild concussion.

             That’d been the only time Miyano had seen Sasaki lose control; had seen him as impulsive, selfish----

  Nightmare-

I-I’m scared of you, Sasaki. You scare me…

 Please, Mya-chan… don’t go…

You could never scare me, Shuumei.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Prophet’s Affliction and Hope

For the Lord will not cast us off forever. Even if He causes grief, He will show compassion according to His abundant loving devotion. For He does not willingly afflict or grieve the sons of men.

To crush underfoot all the prisoners of the land, to deny a man justice before the Most High, to subvert a man in his lawsuit— of these the Lord does not approve.

Who has spoken and it came to pass, unless the Lord has ordained it? Do not both adversity and good come from the mouth of the Most High? Why should any mortal man complain, in view of his sins?

Let us examine and test our ways, and turn back to the LORD. Let us lift up our hearts and hands to God in heaven: “We have sinned and rebelled; You have not forgiven.”

You have covered Yourself in anger and pursued us; You have killed without pity. You have covered Yourself with a cloud that no prayer can pass through. You have made us scum and refuse among the nations.

All our enemies open their mouths against us. Panic and pitfall have come upon us— devastation and destruction. Streams of tears flow from my eyes over the destruction of the daughter of my people.

My eyes overflow unceasingly, without relief, until the LORD looks down from heaven and sees. My eyes bring grief to my soul because of all the daughters of my city.

Without cause my enemies hunted me like a bird. They dropped me alive into a pit and cast stones upon me. The waters flowed over my head, and I thought I was going to die.

I called on Your name, O LORD, out of the depths of the Pit. You heard my plea: “Do not ignore my cry for relief.” You drew near when I called on You; You said, “Do not be afraid.”

You defend my cause, O Lord; You redeem my life. You have seen, O LORD, the wrong done to me; vindicate my cause! You have seen all their malice, all their plots against me.

O LORD, You have heard their insults, all their plots against me— the slander and murmuring of my assailants against me all day long. When they sit and when they rise, see how they mock me in song.

You will pay them back what they deserve, O LORD, according to the work of their hands. Put a veil of anguish over their hearts; may Your curse be upon them! You will pursue them in anger and exterminate them from under Your heavens, O LORD. — Lamentations 3 (Part 2 of 2) | The Reader’s Bible (BRB) The Reader’s Bible © 2020 by Bible Hub and Berean.Bible. All rights Reserved. Cross References: Genesis 30:6; Exodus 14:8; 1 Samuel 26:20; 2 Kings 24:4; Job 2:10; Job 22:11; Job 30:9-10; Job 34:28; Psalm 8:3; Psalm 25:1; Psalm 28:4; Psalm 33:9; Psalm 34:22; Psalm 59:7; Psalm 74:18; Psalm 77:2; Psalm 77:7 Psalm 78:38; Psalm 80:14; Psalm 83:15; Psalm 88:6; Psalm 97:2; Psalm 119:136; Psalm 139:2; Psalm 140:12; Isaiah 24:17-18; Jeremiah 11:19; Jeremiah 22:3; Jeremiah 37:16; Lamentations 2:11; 1 Corinthians 4:13; 2 Corinthians 13:5; Hebrews 7:19; Hebrews 12:5; Hebrews 12:10