#fucked up also that I'll be THIRTY in only three years. worse because i still live with my mom. being a broke adult sucks ass y'all

[sonicenvy]

ok so, like in all seriousness, I need any and all of the children™ following me to know this about the internet in days of yore. So like a major precursor to scrolling through dumb posts on social media sites was chain emails. This was a formative part of my early internet social experience™.

Basically someone you were friends with sent you an email with a subject line that was something like FWD: FWD: Silly Dogs. This email almost always originated from some other person that you did not know that was sometimes even located in a different country than you. It spread like MLMs (Multi-Level Marketing Schemes) wish they could spread. The originator of the email would have sent it on blast to everyone in their address book, and many, many, many people who received it (and enjoyed the content) forwarded it everyone in their address books. Sometimes people added comments onto it. You could see the entire FWD chain, which included the email addresses of basically everyone who'd ever received this email before you. This included, again, many people that you did not know.

Some chain emails were the classic dumb "FWD this email to 10 people for xyz good thing to happen to you" or "FWD this email to 10 people in your address book or xyz bad thing will happen to you." Some of these emails were literally just a collection of funny, interesting, informative, or downright weird pictures with no sources. Some of them were "games" where you'd add something to the email chain that built on whatever the person who forwarded it to you built. Many of these emails have very similar formats to modern "reblog this post and say xyz in the tags," or "reblog this post for good luck," posts.

Here are some screenshots of one such email that I received in 2009, to give you an idea of this:

There would be, sometimes like 100+ email address blocks like the below before the actual email even started....

The above email contained 15 silly dog pictures btw. also, as was sometimes typical of such an email the end part of the email would have weird links to people's company websites that they had in their default email signatures. sometimes they had telephone #s too. Sometimes the bottom of the email just straight up had an advertising link for some kind of service that was attached to the originator's (or someone else in the chain's) email account provider because they had a free email account instead of one that they paid for. The internet was a very different place back then y'all....

As a sidenote, you used to have to PAY to have an email address with good features. When gmail beta came out in 2004 it changed the email game. It was pretty exclusive in the beginning so not a lot of people had it. By the time I got my invite and joined gmail beta 2008 it was almost to full release. That said, I didn't really start using my gmail until 2011 though because gmail still had, uh, issues at the time. Also because of the fact that I was still heavily into yahoo IM and like, yahoo answers. My email address before my gmail was an email address that my mom had bought for me when i was, like a toddler in 1999 with her dial-up internet service. I'm not sure why she bought all her VERY little kids email addresses they absolutely wouldn't be using for a few more years but there you have it. I sent my first email in 2004, which was, like fucking 20 years ago lmao. thinking today about how my first ever emails are older than a lot of kids on this site now.... fucked up because I'm not quite yet 30, so I'm like "don't let that be THAT fucking long ago..."

So yeah, uh, that's your internet history lesson for today kids.

[nartml]

To Pimp a Butterfly and 1989: a rant

Listen here, three things about me are that I'm a) white as snow, b) Greek, c) still a minor.

What does this mean? It means that I obviously wasn't raised with hip-hop, and I got into Kendrick Lamar's music pretty late.

As in, early this year.

I've known of him for some time, and the moment I found out he had a Pulitzer prize at some point in late-ish 2023, I decided I had to sit my ass down and pull out Spotify.

Now, as an avid reader of both fanfiction (ao3 raised me) and books [I feel the immense need to clarify that I don't associate myself with mainstream booktok. Capitalism's consumerism has overrun that shit and all I see are the same 20 books being recycled and recommended (a substantial amount of those are Colleen Hoover and her variants). Tropes and spice* are officially the defining factors of whether a book is worth it (*your porn addiction ain't cute) and quantity is heavily prioritized at the expense of quality. Also, diversity who?], I was, for a lack of a better word, hyped.

A Pulitzer prize is nothing to scoff at in general, more so in music, more so in hip-hop.

(Edit: Upon quick reflection, I realize that putting emphasis on hip-hop can come across as coded.

I am in no way, shape, or form trying to undermine hip-hop or say that it's somehow less 'sophisticated' than, for example, classical music. I'm very aware of the amount of skill and technique one needs to write a masterful hip-hop album, and I'm not doubting that there are hip-hop artists out there who are also incredibly deserving of such a prize. I meant it in the sense that I've unfortunately never heard of another hip-hop artist who won a Pulitzer before, which is quite telling.)

That's some huge shit, and I'd be a fool not to be intrigued.

Admittedly, I didn't get on that immediately. For a while I procrastinated, because I wasn't in the mood to hyper-fixate on anything new just yet.

Which of course meant I ended up forgetting about it for a few months, because of course I did.

But then I came across a TikTok that talked about how it was insane that '1989' won the Grammy when To Pimp a Butterfly was right there.

Now, a fourth thing about me is that I don't fuck with Taylor Swift.

And a fifth thing about me is that I'm not baseless in anything that I do, say or feel, and that includes annoyance.

Her immature understanding of activism and feminism leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The way she built up her fan base around this portrayal of her as a relatable girl's girl, her refusal to accept criticism, and always making a victim out of herself (even now when she's in her thirties and is a fucking billionaire) while never using her position of power and privilege for good are all reasons that serve to fuel my dispassionate dislike.

And before any Swifties get on my ass, no, I don't think that "But she's a singer! Why are you expecting so much out of her, she isn't even qualified to speak on XYZ—" is a good enough excuse.

She has always been rich, and now she's a billionaire. There are no ethical billionaires, and that includes her.

Fame is influence is power. Uncle Ben said it all: With great power comes great responsibility.

And let me tell you, I don't see her owning up to that responsibility, especially after all that talk about how she supports women, supports the LGBTQ community, and supports the BLM movement. Has she ever actually put her abundant money where her mouth is?

I've never seen her speak about anything that doesn't immediately concern her.

Don't get me wrong. She's not the only celebrity like this out there. I'm sure there are worse cases. I know it for a fact.

To wrap this segment up before I get even more sidetracked, I'll outright state that I don't hate her, because hating her would by definition mean that I, in some way, actually care about her, and that just sounds exhausting.

Best way to describe me is indifferent, leaning towards distasteful.

She's annoying.

And that's how I feel about both her as a person and her as an artist.

I'm not denying her talent, nor her impact on the industry, nor the fact that she does have good songs that even I like.

A select few, of course, but still.

Apart from those...what? Ten songs? I have never, ever been able to listen to any other song of her's all the way through.

I get bored. They do nothing for me. They sound empty. Hollow. Plastic. Repetitive.

Her lyrics, that are praised by fans for being deep and complex, sound pretty surface level to me.

Not all of them. But I'm a sucker for analysis. A literature nerd. Greek is my native language. I can tell when something's deep and when something wants to be deep.

(Not necessarily including Folklore and Evermore in that category. Her storytelling ability is actually great.)

Her music largely sounds like it wants to be deep.

Most recent example being her latest release, The Tortured Poets Department.

Anyway, back to Kendrick.

My initial plan was to listen to 'DAMN.' first, because that's what he won the Pulitzer for in the first place.

There was a change of plans after that TikTok.

I decided to compare the opening tacks.

I put on Welcome to New York, and predictably, I felt nothing.

The rhythm is dance-y, I suppose. But there's nothing substantial about it. There's nothing exciting about it.

The lyrics are juvenile, and I get it, it's a pop song and she was in her twenties.

Nobody is expecting Shakespeare (no matter how much you scream or kick your feet, the only reason Shakespeare couldn't write Taylor Swift is because he's in another league entirely) or Odysseus Elytis. Nobody is expecting mind-blowing lyricism.

But it's the opening track to an apparently Grammy-worthy album. The very least I'd expect from it would be some additional levels of artistry.

Am I being harsh? Probably. Do I care? No.

Disappointed but unsurprised, I put on Wesley's Theory.

I ascended within the first minute.

Don't get it twisted, I barely understood shit.

Not only am I white, I am also entirely removed from America and its culture as a whole. I don't know what's going on there in y'all's daily lives.

And this was baby's first proper introduction to hip-hop as a whole.

My untrained, white-ass ear barely caught two references. I got what the gist of the song was about, and that's about it.

I had to look up analyses of the track to fully grasp what Kendrick was on about, and even then, there was obviously still a disconnect.

And I expected all of that.

I didn't expect to get hooked on that song within the first listen.

I swear to fuck, the beat is addictive. I swear to fuck, even when I was fighting to understand what the lyrics were referencing, I was having the time of my life.

Even I, an amateur in every sense of the word, could tell that there was depth and there was quality and there was intentional meaning in every line of that song.

It didn't matter that I couldn't understand it. It mattered that I knew it was there. Not because someone told me that was the case. But because it was audible.

I listened to the next track. And the one after that. And the one after that. I had listened to all of the tracks, before I knew it.

And the evident permeance of quality, of substance, carried on throughout the whole album.

It had exactly the type of lyricism I'd expect a Grammy-worthy album to have. It had exactly the amount of artistry I expected a Grammy-worthy album to have.

Even better, it had all the ingredients I expected a timeless album to have.

The poetry Taylor Swift fans insist hides in her discography, I found in plain sight within Kendrick Lamar's.

After meticulously reading the lyrics, I watched video essay after video essay, searched for analysis after analysis on this album, each time understanding the meanings behind it a little better.

Needless to say that the Grammy's are rigged and I love Kendrick Lamar.

Hip-hop is gorgeous.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.10 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

It's July 4th, work is dead, I've got nothing else to do, let's try to plow through a bunch of these, shall we? At the rate I've been going I'll be at this all year.

The rest of the battlefield was chaos.  Patches of darkness covered everything, and the landscape was distorted.  In some of the areas Vista had warped, the rain wasn’t falling in a straight line.  One spot in particular had the rain moving horizontally before it dropped to help fill a massive puddle thirty feet across, where her power had made an indent in the ground.

I do like Wildow's attention to detail here, and the way these powers just... absolutely fuck everything up like this, and stay like that.

Bitch screamed, and it was a long and primal noise, filled with rage.  I was still inside the bank, watching things unfold through the window, barely able to hear it, and it still made my skin crawl.  So he’d shot the dangerous psychopath with a blast that made her angry.  Someone would have to explain that one to me at a later date.

I'd guess Gallant didn't shoot her with rage, it's just that Rachel's kind of messed up. But I could be wrong.

Seems an odd choice though, if he did.

Apparently that was order enough, because Judas charged at the teenager that was dressed like a science fiction Lancelot.

I love descriptions like this because they both tell us absolutely nothing about how it looks... and also tell us everything. I once read a fic that described the armor of a guy from a culture that went from medieval tech to space travel in like, 100 years (sorta, long story) as being 'Lord of the Rings, with Sci-Fi bolted on' (the POV character was from Earth), and it both told us nothing, and yet, told us everything.

Descriptions are hard, ya'll. Worst part of writing. Props to Wildbow.

Was someone’s power at work, giving me a headache?  There wasn’t anyone in the Wards, I was pretty sure, who could mess with your head like that.  Gallant could mess with your emotions, but he had to hit you with a light blast to do it.  The person on the roof, then?  I was fairly confident there wasn’t anyone in the Protectorate or New Wave who could affect me like this.

No one suspects the healer!

(also no one knows the healer can do this, but)

.  A gun, no less than fifteen feet long, with a barrel three or four feet across, all turret mounted on a circular platform not unlike the board he was riding.

I know technically there is no overkill, just "Open fire" and "I need to reload" but also...

Overkill.

I jumped for cover the moment I realized what he was doing.  There was a muffled sound, more a very large person someone hitting a punching bag than what I’d expect a laser cannon to sound like, and the window exploded. What was he doing?  We had hostages inside.  I turned to check, and saw there weren’t any hostages near me.  Did he know that?  Heat sensors in his visor?  Was someone watching me through the cameras and passing him info?  Damn it!  There was too much I didn’t know, and Tattletale wasn’t around to fill me in.

You know, if Kid Win and Victoria were dating, he could be the Collateral Damage Ken to her Collateral Damage Barbie.

But JESUS Kid, what the fuck?

(Yes, CDB is an incomplete representation of Vicky, but she does earn the nickname fairly at the early stages. I'm also going to assume it's an unfair representation of Kid Win, but still, *Man* wtf?)

The bugs were slow to react, slow to move and some were slipping from my grasp, returning to their instinctive behavior.  Making matters worse, I wasn’t blind to the fact that every time I gave a command, my headache got exponentially worse.

Given that Amy's little messing with the Black Widows only affected them, I'm surprised? Or is this just some sort of Master headache? Is she doing more with the swarm than usual?

 Aegis didn’t try to run this time.  He stood his ground and reached for his utility belt.  He retrieved something that looked like a miniature fire extinguisher. Then he pulled the pin. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I dove away from the window.  It wouldn’t be a grenade, but the option that made the most sense-  I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my ears just in time.  The explosion the flashbang grenade

Flashbang. Much more responsible, Aegis usually is in fic, so presumably in canon too. Tracks.

and Regent was striding out of the darkness, in Kid Win’s direction.

With his outfit and mask that actually probably looks kinda badass.

I whirled to face the voice, and saw the freckled, brown haired hostage that had been glaring at me when we’d first taken control of the bank lobby.  After that, I saw only stars as she slammed something large and blunt into the side of my head.

AMY! :rofl: Finally!

Okay, so like, I get that Amy's not the MC of Worm, but like, I've been waiting for the Fire Extinguisher smash the entire time I've been reading this Arc, so bear with me.

Amy's blorbo, okay?

[silent-silver-slip]

Hi!! In the fic you wrote for me, you alluded to some backstory for your ocs (like what happened to Sasha thirty years ago?) if you wanted to go into that I think it could be fun :)

Not me answering this ask MONTHS later but I have had Thoughts recently and am back on my shit.

For those curious, the fic in question is Dare to Fight Impossible Fights and I had such a fun time writing it. The OCs in question are Eli (been there the longest), Sasha (been there for a while as well), and Jamie (the newest of the three). I'll share a few of the ideas that I've come up with for these OCs and their backstories starting with Jamie and ending with Sasha (below the line so others can skip this lol).

Jamie (warnings for cancer mentions & death; they are a ghost)

Jamie is the youngest and also has managed to avoid Caleb's attention the most! Up until the events of the fic of course

Main reason that Jamie is coasting is that they're super upfront about things which means that Caleb though he knew what was going on

Jamie is a massive fan of chaos and will willingly cause mischief, you might've noted their tendency to steal as well

In ghost years, Jamie is only a decade or two old, so still figuring most things out

This is more something that I'm figuring out now but I think that Jamie's always been a fighter and someone to advocate things--they died due to terminal cancer, and now that they have a chance to not-quite-live again, they plan to make the most of it and be really true to themselves

Eli

I kind of gave each ghost a "knack" or a magic speciality, and Eli's is being able to change their facial features--specifically to lure someone closer (and you can imagine how Caleb has used this to further his own gains)

Probably spent about eight decades with Caleb? He doesn't remember much from before but he assumes that he'd been someone then

He's also lost time at the Club, too, which I think is very fitting considering the Phantoms' own awareness of time when they went there for the first time

I mentioned another OC known as 'Blair' in the fic and I am imagining that they had had Something despite Blair not being part of the Club--not sure whether it was romantic or platonic in nature, but don't think it matters either

Eli just knows there's nothing outside of the Club for him and despite everything, despite how much he hates it all sometimes, he still wants to live (for given meaning of life--I mean they are ghosts after all)

Sasha

Sasha has been around in the Club for about five decades according to my notes!

I have also made a mention in my notes about something that happened thirty years ago but all it says is 'house band' and I am SO confused, did I not want to include more information?

Thought about it for a bit and I was inspired by our latest conversation of trying to get a song 'perfect' in two weeks. The reason why Sasha is still watching herself around Caleb is because three decades ago, the band and dancers were being forced into heaps of practice and many hours spent practicing and they're dead so they don't need to stop, right? but they're exhausted and Caleb is just saying again again again and they're only getting worse and Sasha looks around and just decides fuck this. She manages to put a stop to the practices for a day and Caleb spaces them out a bit more--but needless to say, she's definitely on his shit list afterwards and that's not something easy to get off

Anyway, that is all from me for this ask! I hope you enjoyed and if I ever write more of these characters, you can bet it'll end up being a fic on ao3 lmao

[casspurrjoybell-24]

Sugar Punch - Chapter 18

*Warning: Adult Content*

- Maddox - 

It feels like something I said pissed Theo off but I don't know what.

His mood was good and then suddenly he became quiet, something I've picked up on when he either overthinking something or when he's down about something that I said to him.

It was starting to annoy me, this guy's emotions shifted constantly.

Theo is still in school, almost in university, I was going to be too busy training to even, even if we got into a relationship, what would be the point?

He'd be busy studying and I would be in and out of the country constantly.

There was also the fact that I didn't date, ever.

Long distance relationships didn't work, why would Theo even want to go through that, when things were fine between us right now?

Maybe it's because he's younger, he doesn't know what he wants.

Either way, he's the only one I want to have sex with, shouldn't that be enough?

Even so, he's being too fucking quiet and if there was more to this then I rather talk about it now than later, if I've learned anything in my thirty-one years, it's that it's better to get it all out in the opening, before it gets worse.

"Should I try your parents again?" I asked Theo, sitting three seats away from me on the sofa.

He looked over to me and for a moment, I felt like I shouldn't have asked as his expression turned sour, almost like I overstepped.

"No... they're probably busy packing," he muttered, looking away from me.

Packing?

"You're moving house?"

It went quiet for a moment, before Theo smiles weakly at me, with a sad expression on his face.

"They're getting a divorce and have sold the house, I have three days to pack and find a place in the city. They won't pick up, even if I rang them… so don't bother," he says, his sad eyes shifting from mine to the TV.

Fucking hell, no wonder he's been in a mood, his fucking parents just dropped a bomb on him out of the blue, of-course he's going to be upset about it.

'Maddox, you insensitive asshole.'

So, he has move all his shit in three days or les, and find a place to live?

Who the fuck springs that on their kid like that?

It's almost like they don't give a shit about him.

"Do you need any help?" I ask, feeling guilty for my earlier thoughts. "I know a guy whose looking for someone to take over his apartment, while he goes traveling with his girlfriend for two months, it should give you more than enough time to find a place of your own, while saving a few bucks."

He looks at me and smiles, not a faked or forced smile, an actual genuine smile.

"Thanks, Maddox. That'd be helpful," he said, his cheeks tinted with pink.

"I'll give you, his number," I said, grabbing my cell-phone to send Chris, a quick text.

Theo looked a lot better after the shower, his legs and stomach still hurt, apart from that, the medication, the doctor left, seemed to have helped him a lot.

He can walk on his own too, which I knew he likes because every time I helped him up and room to room, he could barely walk from his shy and embarrassed he was, just from a single touch.

I knew he liked me and right now it wasn't a problem, I just couldn't get caught up in the moment, despite how much I liked having him around, being with him threw me off my game and made me sloppy.

I liked him too, I just couldn't think about the future with him though, I've known him for a week and while Theo hasn't dated before or been with anyone other than me, I am far from being a virgin, having slept with many women.

Fuck, I loved women but dating got too complicating, too hard and I realized early into every relationship that I had, that they all turned out shit because as soon as you label your relationship, the mood changes.

Living together, getting engaged, married and then talking about kids, I couldn't fucking handle that, I liked my space and I didn't like being tied down to anyone and kids... it just wasn't happening.

I'd never want to bring kids into this world, knowing the hell I went through as one, I'd rather die alone.

A few hours passed and Theo and I made small talk about the show we watched 'Vikings' but eventually it got late and I had training tomorrow and Theo had to go home at some point, right?

So, I took him home in my BMW and dropped him off outside of his house and looking at it again for the second time, nothing changed, inside was dark and to be honest, it looked fucking depressing that he lived here.

"Your parents not home?" I asked, turning the engine off.

"No… they're at hotels, I think," he said, looking out the window before taking his seatbelt off.

"There's nothing left, only my stuff so... they won't be back until this Wednesday, to welcome the new owners."

Man, everything that left his mouth was depressing, I knew all about absent parents and shitty upbringings, it made me hard and it drove me to seek a better life, I had seen many kids just like me struggling in the same situation but not once did I give a shit about them.

Until now.

Theo got out and before he could close the door, I sigh and call out...

"Wait.

"Honestly, ever since I started jerking off to this kid, it's like he's controlling my fucking mind and pulling the strings because there was no way I was going to leave him to do this by himself, not when he didn't have anyone.

I was sure that I was the only person in his life that cared about him and I did care, he was shy, nerdy and a pain in my ass when his mood shifted constantly but he was also fucking adorable and made my days less stressful.

"Let me help you."

I didn't let him say anything more as I grabbed my keys and opened the car door.

"It should go faster with one more person, then I drop you off at Chris' if you want that is, since he leaves tomorrow, you can get the keys tonight and then crash at mine."

"W-What?" he stammered, his eyes widened as he stood there on the sidewalk, as I walked over to him, shrugging.

"We've already had sex Theo, don't tell me you're getting shy on me again," I tease, watching his face turn red as I walked past him, down the walk to his front door.

Looking around, it was a nice neighbourhood, the streets were clean and every house was well looked after, it was quiet considering it was a popular family area to live in.

Theo's head would roll if he ever saw where I grew up, a house that wasn't a house but a shithole made from nothing, I'd be honestly surprised if it was still there, as when I lived in it, it was put in to be demolished.

I watched Theo fumble with the keys before opening his front door, I followed in behind him as he turned the light on, and he was right, there was nothing inside, it was completely empty of furniture or anything else that would make a home homier.

"My room's upstairs…" he said, before walking up the stairs, as I followed behind him.

What was I even doing right now?

I was now inside this guy's house, after telling myself I wasn't going to get more mixed up in his life that would alter our currently relationship but look at me, not being able to fucking help myself.

He opened a door and then turned on the light and just from the figures,and the books alone, I knew this was Theo's bedroom because it screamed 'nerd'.

My eyes went everywhere, I wanted to know more about him and now I was in his bedroom, where everything was telling me more about this guy, like his t-shirts for example.

His wardrobe was open and every t-shirt had either a picture of a game character on it or a comic book character, it was amusing in a way, I used to look at guys like Theo in the past and feel sorry for them because to me, they looked pathetic, sitting or reading by themselves.

Now... now I'm mature enough to see that it's just another world to hide in, whether it be a sport or a game, Theo is happy in his world and inside his world nothing can hurt him.

I knew all about that.

"There should be boxes in the garage, I can go get..."

"I'll get them," I interrupted him, noticing the key in his hand. "Give me the key and sit down, you shouldn't stand on your leg for too long anyways, doctor's orders."

Theo blushed and handed me the key and like a good boy, he sat down on his bed and looked at me and for some fucked up reason, all I wanted to do was to make everything better for him and most importantly, I wanted to kiss him.

"I'll be right back," I said, before leaving his room and heading back down the stairs.

I'm a fucking coward but I knew... if it's like this then I wouldn't be getting his hopes up, after-all, Theo knew nothing about me other than what he heard about me online.

He didn't know anything about me and I wanted to keep it that way because if he knew the me that I had buried, then whatever he felt for me would surely make him want to get as far away from me as possible.

He liked me, admired me even, if he knew more, would he look at me the same way again?

It shouldn't even bother me.

I wasn't in a place to be in a relationship but I also didn't want to end whatever this was between us, I knew I was being selfish and probably leading him on but this was all new to me but something told me that Theo, he could be worth it.

In the meantime, I'm going to take it one day at a time, even if Theo hated it, it's all I could give him right now.

[anime-corner]

Unmiss You I Iwaizumi H.

A/N: So, I basically don’t know how it turned out like this... Not proud of this one though, kind of am? It’s honestly confusing. But hey, hope you like it!

Two A.M. At least that was the time that was shown on his phone. He couldn't remember how long since then. Or how it happened. He just knew that he fucked up.

The device rang in his hand, answering quickly, not bothering to check the caller I.D., hoping that it was you, "yeah?"

"Aww, Iwa-chan! That was quick! Did you miss me that much?" He scoffed, throwing the phone on his bed, the call on speaker as he laid back down, his arm draped over his eyes.

"What do you want, Oikawa?" He asked without the usual insult to the setter's name.

"Are you… still thinking about her?" The caller said, careful in his words, "Besides, it's what? Almost three? You're usually not up this early."

"Why do you care?" He huffed as he thought about it. He never did stay up late or woke up early unless it was to give Oikawa the support he needed. But this time it was different, he knew that, and that was because he was waiting for you.

"Geez, of course, I care! You're my best friend! And it's obvious that you're miserable without her." Oikawa could hear shuffling on the other end.

"What do I do then? She won't answer my calls o-or reply back to my messages." Iwaizumi held out a pillow, throwing it across the room in frustration, "Hell, I can't even get a glimpse of her without those crows stopping me!!"

"Maybe… She wants to move on?" It was silent for a few moments as he debated in his mind. Was she really?

"... I hope not. Because wouldn't it be unfair if… she gets to forget everything when all I want is to get her back?" He gripped onto his dark hair, tears threatening to spill, his firm look shattering to pieces, "She's all that I think about after that game. She's in my dreams, within my vision… I could even hear her at times but…"

"But what?" A heavy sigh left Iwaizumi's lips as he succumbed to his thoughts.

"You're right… Maybe, she doesn't want me back. I can't just rewind time to make it right. I can't go back to before I fell for her, to stop myself from meeting her and undo everything because I know that I'll just end up liking her. Loving her." It wasn't like him to act like this.

He was stubborn. He wouldn't stop at anything like a breakup. Instead, he'd do anything to get you back. But, with how he was right now, he doubts that he'd be able to. That's just what was running inside his head. Full of doubt and regret.

"It would have been easier that way…" Oikawa comments, giving out a sigh as well.

"Yeah, no shit. But like you said, maybe she wants to move on. And I just have to live with the fact that you can't easily unmiss a person you so badly miss." Iwaizumi let out a growl of annoyance, hearing noises from the other side of the screen,  "Oi Kusokawa, are you still listening!?!"

"Get up. Out of bed. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes." He had to blink a couple of times, trying to register the words of his friend.

"What do you mean you'll pick me up!? Oi, don't come over or I'll kick your ass!"

"Just do it, will you Hajime?" Iwaizumi mumbles incoherent words to himself, debating whether or not he should. In the end, he gives in.

"Whatever."

Forcing himself out of his bed, he dressed with what he thought was okay looking. A long sleeve grey shirt and ripped jeans, not bothering to look good for something Oikawa had planned for him. It was useless, he thought. A distraction was useless. A knock came as he opened it, the setter eyed his friend from top to bottom.

"You look like shit." Oikawa said as he went in, hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, thanks sherlock." He rolled his eyes, closing the door.

"What's with the outfit? Come on, I'll get you something else." The setter darted towards his room, opening the closet for something the dark-haired male to wear.

"Why are you here, Oikawa? I'm assuming you aren't here just to take my mind off of her." Iwaizumi questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Actually, I asked (y/n) if she could just hear you out. She'll be meeting us at the park." Oikawa admitted, already preparing for the worse.

"YOU DID WHAT!? YOU IDIOT! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?" Hands wrapped around the collar of Oikawa's shirt, face dangerously close and seething with rage.

"Because you're both hurting! See for yourself!" He got out his phone, scrolling through the messages he and two of Karasuno's members had been exchanging, "Both Tobio-chan and that Small Fry has been sending me pictures of her during their practice and she's trying her best to cope, struggling just the same as you."

"Shut up Assikawa!! (y/n)... She doesn't want me back. If she did, we would have fixed our relationship by now." "I lost her because I messed up. And--" Oikawa threw a pair of jeans with an oversized dark blue denim jacket and a grey hoodie.

"Here. Wear this." It was also the same one he wore when they watched the game between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, "That's what you wore on your first date, right?"

"I… yeah."

"Good. I'm sure she'd like it if you wore that instead. I'll give you ten minutes to freshen up." He left Iwaizumi to get ready, closing the door behind him, "Or at least, as much as you possibly can. Geez, I can't believe you're an emotional wreck!"

Was it okay? Was it okay to see you? Did you hate him? Or did you still care? Was there still a chance for the two of you to get back together? More questions than answers and honestly, he only wanted to know if you'd take him back again.

"Hey, are you really sure she'll be there?" He got out of his room, wearing the clothes Oikawa handed him.

"I'm sure but…" Looking at him up and down again, a smile on his lips. His usual cheerful and outwardly carefree expression was on his face, "Look at my Iwa-chan, all grown up and ready to get his girl back!"

"Shut up! This was your idea!"

"Huh? Does that mean you don't really plan on fixing all of this? Are you giving up?" Iwaizumi choked on nothing, that wasn't his intention. He wasn't giving up. He just didn't know how to.

"That's not…" He was struggling to get his words out.

"Just kidding, Iwa-chan~!" Oikawa received a hit behind the head, one of the usual violent punishments he would get from his best friend, "Gah! What'd you hit me for?!"

"Shut up!"

"Is your vocabulary only limited to that?"

"Shut up!"

The walk towards the meeting place was quiet. He was uneasy. What were you even expecting from him? A sorry? To beg for forgiveness? A hug perhaps? Because he'd be ready to give you anything and everything. Shit, he should have brought that scarf you made for him.

"Huh? She isn't here yet?" Oikawa looked around but you were nowhere to be found.

"I knew it. She hates me." The dark haired male crashed down on a nearby bench.

"Now, don't go all psychic on me Iwaizumi. I was only late." Standing up quickly as if he didn't drown in his sorrows sitting on that wooden seat.

"(y/n)!" The setter greeted, tackling you into a hug.

"Sorry Tooru, did I make you wait?" You asked, pulling away from his hold.

"Nope! We just got here. I had to make sure Iwa got all dressed up instead of coming here only in sweatpants. Or those nasty jeans I saw him wear when I got there." He shuddered when he felt Iwaizumi's glare hitting his back as he raised both of his hands, making his way to the sides, "Well, I'll be way over there before Iwa-chan hits me again!"

"So…" The both of you start, the male clearing his throat when you didn't open your mouth to speak.

"Uh, you go first." He gestured towards you as you shook your head.

"Tooru asked me to listen. Now, talk. I still have to help Kiyoko and Hitoka in handling the boys." Iwaizumi nodded, realizing what little time he had to explain.

"Right." He began, rubbing the back of his head, "Oikawa told me everything… that happened that day.

• • •

You have been meeting up with Oikawa for the past few days now. You planned on surprising him on your third anniversary and with his best friend's help, you knew he'd like it, especially if he and his team win against Shiratorizawa. Well, you want your team to win too, but can't choose which side you'd support so, you decided that whoever wins would avenge the other.

Aoba Johsai lost.

His team lost and you stood there at the balcony crying your tears out, both in frustration and happiness. The latter because of your team and the former for the loss. You excused yourself, looking for any of the third years in the team. And you happen to stumble upon Oikawa.

"Tooru!" You shouted, running towards the setter.

"(y/n)? Shouldn't you be with your team?" He asked, looking around for the crows. Or at least, his little rival other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

"They'll understand why I left. But most importantly, how are the two of you? How's Hajime?" It was your turn to look for your boyfriend.

"I'm… not sure. Iwa-chan's probably with Mattsun and Makki. The others should be together." You nodded, grasping both of his hands in yours.

"I'm sorry for what happened, you were all really great! I promise we'll beat up Ushiwaka's ass for you two!" You declared, earning a chuckle from him.

"It's fine, (y/n)-chan." Oikawa ruffled your hair once you released his hands before remembering something, "Hey, why don't you give your present to him, I'm sure he'd like it especially when you've been at it for weeks. Isn't it your anniversary today? It'll help him a lot." You hugged the man in front of you, appreciating the help and support he has given you.

"I hope so. Ah well, thanks again for the help Tooru, I really appreciate it. I'm happy that Hajime has a friend like--" You were then cut off by a shout, your name echoing throughout the hall.

"(y/n)!!"

"Hajime! Great timing! I've got something--” You rushed towards him and was about to give him a hug when the look on his face made you stop.

“No. You don’t have to. I can see it perfectly clear.” Iwaizumi said as your brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You asked, glancing at the other two third-years behind him who only shrugged.

“What do I mean?! I should have known that you liked Oikawa from the start! We lost the game and the first person you went to find was him!? Unbelievable (y/n), unbelievable!” He bellowed, glaring at the two of you. His eyes were clouded with grief from losing and seeing you with his best friend triggered something he didn't want inside of him.

“W-what? That’s not true. Look, I just managed to bump into him and--” He cut you off again, his hands clenched tightly.

"Yeah okay, blame it on that!"

“Hey Iwaizumi, I think you should calm down a bit.” Hanamaki joined in, placing a hand on the shoulder of their vice-captain.

“Yeah, they were just talking. (y/n) was probably comforting him and asking for you.” Matsukawa added, getting ready to help his best friend if Iwaizumi ever decides to punch away his anger.

“Bullshit! I know what I saw! How do you explain those past few days huh?! I wanted to ask you out before the Interhigh and it so happened that I saw the two of you together. I ignored it because I trusted you!” He held back, not to get him and his team kicked out and bring shame to the school in his final year. Though it was painful, he knew he needed to get rid of it verbally, "If you wanted him then you should have said so from the start! I would have understood. So, I'm letting you go. That's what you want right? To be free from me?!"

"H-hey now, you don't mean that right? Why don't we take a seat a-and we'll talk this out, yeah?" You offered, walking towards him cautiously.

"Talk? You still want to talk?!! I'm done (y/n), okay!? Just leave me alone! I never want to see you ever again!" He lashes out, his emotions controlling every bit of his sanity.

“Idiot! You’re a total idiot!!” You screamed at him, closing your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. You don't want to let him see how weak he's making you, not in a situation like this.

“How did I become--!!”

“I asked Tooru to help me think up an idea for the gift I wanted to give you for our anniversary. He’s your best friend so I thought it was okay and that he’d be able to keep a secret. But surprise, surprise, you don’t like that kind of thing. You don’t need to be jealous of someone I don’t have feelings for! But hey, I guess you don’t trust me like you say you do!” Shuffling through your bag, you pushed an Aegean hued scarf with Olive colored horizontal lines near the fringe, “Here, take it. Burn it for all I care. We’re done.”

'Did she..? No wait, don't move. I'm sorry..' He thought, he couldn't voice the words out and even if he did, the damage was already done, 'Why can't I…? (y/n) please, let's talk…'

"Goodbye, Haji-- no, Iwaizumi-san…" Saying his last name added salt, tons of it, to the biggest wound ever inflicted on your heart. And on his too.

'I said don't go..! I can't reach you if you do. I can't feel myself, please don't go.' Again, the words wouldn't dare leave his mouth as he was also afraid that he'd say something wrong. He didn't dare blink, wanting to still see your figure within his vision, 'Let me see those hands again, I'll kiss it all better. Just don't leave me…'

"Oi, Oikawa!!" Suddenly he was on the floor with a bruised cheek and an angry setter in front of him, being held back by the other two they were with. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I get it that you're like that towards me but (y/n) didn't do anything wrong! She asked me for what you wanted and this is the thanks she gets!?" His grip on his collar was tight as he was still able to get close to him despite being held down by two of their friends, "You saw those bandages on her hands right? Well, she made that scarf all by herself just for you! She did that despite knowing nothing about knitting!"

"I…" He started but, as if you were still there, the words he so wanted to stay retreated back down his throat.

"What!? You what, Iwaizumi!!?" Oikawa snapped, almost on the brink of insanity like how Iwaizumi was before you left, "Got anymore bad things to say about her!?!"

"Zip it, will you?! I know that she didn't do anything wrong! It's just my fucked up and tired self making all the excuses!" He looked down, burying his face in his hands.

"Y-you could still run after her. I'm sure she'd--" One of them said, patting his back.

"She won't. Six years and never did she go against her word once she's made up her mind. It'll take a shit load of convincing but, I doubt she'd want me back." He gave out a huff, walking away until his best friend stopped him.

"Then you've just got to be stubborn like usual and try your best." Oikawa spoke, pumping the depressed Iwaizumi up.

"Huh? Ah, y-yeah…"

• • •

"How long has it been since you last slept?" You asked him, caressing his cheeks with your thumb as he leaned into your touch.

"What?" He blinked a couple of times before sighing, "I slept, maybe for just a few hours before waking up again because every time I close my eyes, that face you gave me that day keeps coming back to me and…"

"And?" He didn't want to tell you but, this would be the chance that he couldn't take hold of on that day.

"And there's this stupid scene that keeps playing in my dreams, during that fight we had, you left and when I saw you again, you were so happy with someone else and that broke me." He wanted to cry but all he could do was ball his fists with his brows furrowed in anger. Anger towards himself and his stupid decisions, "My last words to you that day was to leave me alone. That I never wanted to see you again. But, I was wrong. I still want you here by my side. I still want to see you. I still want to hear your voice every morning after I wake up and every night before I sleep just like before."

"Iwaizumi…" You started but your words just went in one ear and out the other as he continued.

"What I'm saying is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I fucked up. That my jealousy got in between the two of us. It was dumb of me and Oikawa's supposed to be the childish one." He chuckled bitterly, mostly to himself. Now that he spoke his mind, it was silly of him to feel that way. To feel, was it inferiority? "I guess I still wasn't used to being the one getting the attention instead of him who's always surrounded by fangirls everywhere. Or believe in the idea of someone who would actually love me and not use me just to get to him."

"Iwaizumi, never in my life was I attracted to him. You know that right? I told you this once before." He held both of your hands, placing the other on his cheek. It was as if he was touch deprived and wanted to make up for the times he was away from you.

"I know. It's just that… letting you go that day was the hardest thing I've ever done. I couldn't even stop you, I just stayed there. I tried, believe me, I tried but I couldn't. I wanted to make you stay. But losing my last game in high school and all my emotions were over the place that it took a toll on me." Iwaizumi admitted. Sighing for who knows how many times now.

"It's okay. I understand." He stared at you, confusion written all over his face.

"No, you don't! I'm not blaming this on my loss. I'm blaming this on myself, for doubting you. You've been loving me so right despite studying in different schools and all I did was hurt you! Days after we broke up, I've been feeding myself these useless reasons not to see you, telling myself that you're mad at me and that you don't need me anymore. I'm sorry. Please hate me…" He was crying, he didn't care anymore if anyone saw him so… vulnerable. You wiped it all away, a smile on your lips.

"Hajime." You started. It was the first time in weeks since he last heard you say his name, "I love you."

"W-what?" These words were the least he expected to come out of your mouth but, he wasn't complaining either.

"You heard me. I love you." You repeated before you giggled, "Sure yeah, you were totally an ass for not listening to me but it doesn't change the fact that I still love you. And I also heard from Tooru that you haven't been like yourself since that day, my fault entirely. I should have thought about what your reaction would be.

"You know… I tried to come up with tons of reasons to just give up, so we both wouldn't have to hurt like this. It would have been easier for both of us. But, I can't. I don't want things to be easy between us. Everything you do makes me fall for you over and over, deeper than the last time. And hearing you say that you still love me, makes me realize that I should have tried even harder." Iwaizumi hugged you tightly, afraid that this was all a dream and was about to wake up. Or was he going soft just for you? Because it was obviously not because of Oikawa.

"So, what do you want to happen to us? What's your call?" You asked looking up at him.

“What’s this? Are you two okay now?” The childish devil on Iwaizumi's shoulder popped in between the two of you, “You are! That’s great! I’ll tell them right now--!”

“You, hanger bastard! I’ll beat you up--” He was about to give Oikawa a piece of his mind when he heard your voice echo in his ear.

“Hanger bastard? What’s with the new insult?” You laughed out loud, the wing spiker smiled, missing the sound, "Where'd you get that?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow, I'm sure Mattsun and Makki want to get a say in this too." He suggested, receiving a nod from you.

"Hey Iwa-chan, you guys don't have to diss me every time you get jealous!!" Iwaizumi scoffed, ignoring the setter.

"Anyways, I'll fetch and take you home after practice. We've got a lot of catching up to do." He offered, intertwining both of your fingers together, “We can even start now, I’ll walk you to Karasuno.”

"I'd like that, Hajime."

I gave you my heart and I don't regret not taking it back. My attention is yours and no one else's from the beginning until the end. 

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Late Nights, Early Mornings.

Summary: Long distant relationships are difficult, made worse when it's between two men in different colleges. But Freed and Laxus will make it worse, and if secret phone calls late in the night are what's needed then that's what they'll do.

Notes: This was day three for my admissions to Fraxus Week. It's hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus, who you should check out for more Fraxus content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Four Ways to See the Dawn

Year: 1982

Location: Washington DC, USA

"Hey."

"Hey."

Laxus murmured the word, quietly fiddling with the cord to the phone as he glanced at the sleeping man in the other bed. The stranger seemed to be sleeping soundly, snoring without a care in the world, and so Laxus felt pretty confident that he had privacy. So long as he didn't make too much noise, he could speak without being overheard.

Good, this was going to work.

It wasn't ideal. It was nearing two AM, and Laxus had found himself fighting sleep as he'd waited for his roommate to pass out. The guy was apparently something of a party animal, and he was fully taking advantage of the many frat parties, drinking nights and mixers that filled the first weeks of college. Laxus had avoided them all – they were all too loud and rowdy for him – but he understood the appeal. He couldn't be angry that the man was so unpredictable; Bickslow would hardly know that he was stopping Laxus from his phone call with Freed, after all.

Freed didn't have the same problem. His college, which was half way across the country, didn't have roommates to worry about. He'd promised that he'd be waiting by the phone for him whenever he was ready to call, and he'd answered the moment Laxus had rung.

"You sound tired," Laxus teased. "Didn't wake ya, did I?"

"No, but it was close," Freed chuckled, and the sound was incredible. "I missed hearing your voice."

"Me too."

They'd promised themselves that, for the first two weeks, they wouldn't talk. College was a big thing, and they couldn't fuck it up, so decided they need to fully submerge themselves in college culture instead of becoming shut-ins who only spoke to one another. It was the right thing to do, they both knew it, but Laxus had been missing Freed's presence every day, and no amount of taster classes, tours around campus, and bottles of tequila would remove that.

Freed had always been there. They'd grown up on the same street, played on the same sports teams, and attended the same house parties. Jokes had been made that they were attached at the hip, and that they might as well be inseparable with how much time they spent together.

Laxus had to smirk at those jokes. If only they knew.

It had happened quite randomly, really. Laxus had broken his leg in the last year of high school, and he'd had to sit out on the final game in their baseball tournament. Freed had ended up hitting the home run that won their team the game, and had been rightly commended. Laxus had stumbled into the locker room on his crutches when everyone was left so he could congratulate the man in private. Freed had clearly noticed that Laxus was more melancholy that joyful, and forced Laxus to admit it felt shitty to miss the final game of his high-school career, even if they did win.

Freed had waited for a moment, thinking of what to say. Then, with his thigh resting against Laxus' non-broken leg, he quietly whispered 'I won it for you, you know. Not for the team.' The words were packed with years' worth of friendship and passion, and they were forever imprinted on Laxus' mind.

He'd kissed the man without thinking. Freed had kissed him back.

What followed was a summer of making out, going to the romantic spots around Magnolia under the pretence they were still just friends, and, on the last night before they left for college, they'd slept together for the first time. It had all been incredible.

But the summer had to end, and they could hardly keep going as they had. Magnolia was small, and their friendship was known well enough there for nobody to question how much time they were spending together. Now they lived in different states, a long and expensive train ride away from each other. The making out and the dates and the sex would have to stop, because it didn't make senses for it to continue. All they had left was quiet phone calls late at night where nobody could overhear them talking.

It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

"You, erm, you done many classes yet?" Laxus asked, cringing at the awful question.

"No, they start on Monday," Freed answered, and shifted slightly. Laxus idly wondered if he were in his bed or not. Freed looked good in bed, curled up in a dressing gown with a book. If Laxus was there, he'd content himself by running his hand through his hair. "You?"

"A few taster things, just tryin' to find out what I wanna major in, y'know," Laxus all but scuffed his feet. He hadn't expected this to be this awkward. "Guess you don't have that problem."

"No," Freed agreed. He was training to by a surgeon, Laxus was at college mainly because he didn't know what else to do with his life. "How's your roommate?"

"He's good. A little weird but seems harmless," Laxus glanced at the sleeping man, who was stretched over his bed and drooling. "Seems to be out at parties most nights, so maybe I'll be able to call ya earlier in the night. Not force ya to stay up so late."

"It's worth it," Freed said without missing a beat. "I've missed you, Laxus."

"I missed you too," Laxus whispered.

Neither man spoke for a moment, and Laxus wished he knew what to say. He wished he had a ridiculous story of his fun, interesting college life that he could use to break that layer of awkwardness and entertain Freed with. But he'd done nothing; college was much less interesting than he had been led to believe. He couldn't think of a thing to say, and the electric humming of the phone was getting on his nerves.

Freed must have felt the same way, as Laxus could hear him fidgeting across the phone. Laxus wished he could just pull the man into his arms, as he often had in their quiet nights alone over the summer. But he couldn't. For months, he couldn't.

"It's gonna get easier, ain't it?" Laxus asked. "Doin' this?"

"It will," Freed said, and he sounded sure. "It'll take some time, but it will."

"Fuckin' better," Laxus mumbled more to himself than to Freed.

"It will," Freed repeated. "And thanksgiving is only a few months away, and we'll be able to see each other then."

"Guess so," Laxus nodded, trying to feel encouraged. "You still doing thanksgiving with me and Gramps?"

"If he'll still have me."

"He will," Laxus replied immediately, and then forced a smile onto his face. "And I promise it'll be more successful than last year."

"More successful? Is that possible?" Freed asked sarcastically, and Laxus chuckled.

"You saying that me and Gramps getting into a screaming match, the turkey ending up in the cat's litter tray, the two of us getting covered in cranberry sauce, and the neighbours making a noise complaint wasn't successful?" Laxus scoffed, smiling as he remembered the night the previous year.

He also remembered how, just before Freed drove back to his own home, he'd confessed that it was one of the most enjoyable thanksgiving's he'd had.

"You seem to not realise that, with long hair, pureed cranberries really have a lot of space to hide in," Freed chuckled. "A problem you don't seem to face."

"I'll aim for your face this year then," Laxus grinned.

"That's all I ask," Freed was grinning too, Laxus could hear it in his voice.

The situation wasn't immediately remedied, but they found themselves talking about the ridiculous shared moments they'd endured in Magnolia, and Laxus felt the awkwardness seeping away minute by minute. It was nowhere near as good as driving to the mountains, lying on his car's roof with Freed curled against him, but damn if it wasn't the best couple of hours he'd spent since arriving in Washington.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he did remember waking up sometime later in the morning. The phone was clutched against his chest, the line dead, and the sunlight was fluttering under the curtains. He smiled privately, and closed his eyes, phone in hand.

---

"Freed, you okay? It's four in the mornin'?

"Hey. You're awake. Hi."

Laxus forced his eyes open, groggy and sleep deprived. He blinked a few times, sitting up. The ringing of the phone he'd just answered seemed to still be blaring in his mind, and the overly loud, inelegant words that his boyfriend had just near yelled into his ears made Laxus wince. It was nearly four thirty in the morning. Why the hell was Freed awake?

"Course I'm awake, phone's fucking loud," He complained, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "Why're you awake?"

"Ever and Mirajane," Freed said, as if that answered anything. Laxus waited a moment before he realised that was all Freed felt he needed to say.

"What about them?"

"I told them that it was my birthday tomorrow – or, well, it's today now, isn't it. But it was tomorrow when I told them. Well, technically it was yesterday when I told them, but in the context of me telling them about my birthday, my birthday was tomorrow, which is now today," Freed spewed the mess of words out, and Laxus could hear him frowning. "They said I needed to go out drinking. They wanted to take me out for my first legal drink."

"Yer turning nineteen, not twenty-one," Laxus deadpanned, though smirked.

"Oh yes, so I am," Freed was frowning. "I broke the law many times tonight then."

"Sounds like it," Laxus chuckled. "You only just gettin' in? It's pretty late. Or early, I guess."

"No, we left the club at about one. We've been in the dorms for a few hours, Cana knows someone who can get us beer cheap, so we kept going. Someone made me brownies, but I wasn't allowed to eat them because apparently they had pot in them, so Mirajane slapped the guy and said she'd report him to campus security because we only found out when Jet and Droy started talking about the walls having a face," Freed laughed heartily, and Laxus smiled, imagining the man's expression as he did so. "Why do people always put weed into brownies? It's so overdone. Why do you never hear of a pot carrot cake or banana loaf?"

"Brownies are easy to make, I guess," Laxus grinned.

This was uncharted territory for Laxus. Freed wasn't exactly a total rule follower, but his parents were strict and so alcohol was something he'd never risked. Laxus had always wondered what a drunk Freed would be like. Apparently, he rambled and was happy. It was a nice side of him to hear.

"You think brownies are harder than a banana cake? You know nothing about baking," Freed laughed at him, and Laxus smirked. "Do I have time to bake a pot filled gateau, do you think? It might make mother's book club interesting at last."

"Don't spike your ma with drugs Freed," Laxus instructed, and Freed laughed.

"Yes, it sounds bad put like that," Freed agreed. He was quiet for a moment, and Laxus heard the sound of something hitting the floor. Perhaps one of his boots, given the clunk. Laxus had become something of an expert at figuring out what Freed was doing by the sounds he made. "It'd serve them right. Rather see you than them."

"Come on Freed," Laxus sighed. "They're your parents, they wanna see you."

"Well they didn't on parents' weekend, or at thanksgiving, so why now?" Freed huffed, fabric shifting now. He was probably getting into bed. "They're taking me to dinner, and I saw the place. It's got five stars, Laxus. That means it'll be stifled and pretentious. They won't know what to say to me, so we'll just eat in silence and we'll all want it to end because we know we don't have anything in common and they're only coming because it'll look bad if they don't," Laxus wished he could deny the claim, but he knew Freed's parents and that was probably true. "Would've rather gotten the train to Washington so I could see you."

"Shouldn't I be coming to yours?" Laxus asked, trying to change the subject to something less maudlin. "It's your birthday."

"You saw my campus when you drove us home," Freed dismissed, and Laxus supposed he had. They'd driven back to Magnolia together for some time alone, as Laxus passed Freed's college on the drive back. "It's my turn to see your place. Your classrooms, your student lounge," He paused, and was clearly smirking when he spoke again. "Your bed."

"My bed, huh?" Laxus smirked. "What were you gonna-"

Laxus would have continued, but an airborne pillow slammed into his face. It took his sleep-lagged brain a moment to understand what had happened, and he slowly looked towards his glaring, very much awake roommate. He probably should have realised that the phone would have woken them both up, not just Laxus.

They looked at each other for a moment, Bickslow unblinking. Laxus wanted to speak, but no words came, and Bickslow was the one to fill the silence.

"Look, you know I'm cool with you two being together. Probably been to more of the marches than either of you two, so be as gay as you wanna be," Bickslow's voice was croaky and hoarse. "But don't phone fuck when I'm in the room. It's just bad manners."

"We weren't gonna-" Laxus cut himself off. He couldn't be sure of his words, so instead he said a guilty, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Bickslow shrugged. "Just give me my pillow back and we'll call it even."

Laxus did as he was told, and Bickslow took it, hooked it around his head so it covered his ears, and turned to lie facing the wall. It was as close to privacy they could get in the small room without either of them leaving, and Laxus appreciated the action. When he spoke again, his voice was more of a gentle whisper.

"You should probably get to sleep," He instructed, and grinned when he heard a yawn overpowering his words. "Make sure you drink water before you crash, okay? And don't bother with yer classes, you'll either still be drunk or too hungover to take anything in."

"Yes, I suppose I will be," Freed agreed. "I'll call you once my parents leave."

"Okay," Laxus nodded. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you," Freed said softly. "Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Laxus hung up the phone, curled himself back under his covers and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to sleep, he heard the grinning words of his roommate as he said, 'you two are so damn cute.' Laxus' retort of 'fuck you' was only slightly less threatening because of the smile he couldn't shake, and the yawn he couldn't hold back.

---

"Don't talk, I need to say something."

"Laxus? What's wrong?"

Laxus was jittery. He'd been jittery all day. He'd had nervous energy throughout the night, and it kept waking him up and he did whatever he could to get to sleep but nothing had worked, and he'd found himself stressed, awake and jittery. He couldn't stop moving. Couldn't stop bouncing his leg or taping his fingers or flexing his arms because he needed to do something with this energy, but he didn't know what.

At six AM, after a night of awful, interrupted sleep, he'd decided enough was enough. He'd changed into running gear, pulled out his Walkman and stormed from his dorm room. He'd ran for however long, and yet the jitteriness didn't go. If anything, it made things worse.

Calling Freed had been a last resort.

He hadn't returned to campus yet, instead finding a phone booth to climb into. It had started to rain as he'd run, and he was dripping wet as he rang Freed's number. The cold and the wet were the last things on his mind. He just needed to get on the call with Freed, just needed to hear that thing's would be okay and that he was making a big deal out of nothing. Freed was a smart guy, and he wouldn't bullshit Laxus about important things. No; Freed would make things okay.

"Dad's court case was moved forward," Laxus spluttered before he could stop himself.

It was supposed to be in the autumn. It was supposed to be months away. That would give Laxus time to prepare himself, to know what he was going to say. To get out of his own head so that he could focus on taking the bastard to jail. It was not supposed to be next damn week!

Laxus was a character witness. In the trial itself, he wasn't all that important, but he knew that the media would love to know what he thought about his father. Ivan was a well-known businessman, and his scandal had been national news. He'd made many enemies over his years working, and people were relishing in his downfall. Everyone wanted to hear how not only was Ivan a bad businessman, but a bad father too. Laxus wasn't ready for the attention, he wasn't ready for anything.

Freed took a moment to think before he replied.

"Where are you?" He asked. "Are you in your dorm? I can hear the rain."

"Erm, no," Laxus shook his head, looking around. "I'm near a park. Not sure where."

"Right," Freed murmured. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need," Laxus faltered.

He needed to be told that everything was okay. That the court case would just be a single day in his life, and he could get past it and move on. He needed to hear Freed saying that he would get past this, and that his life would return to normal. He needed to see Freed's warm smile, the one he seemed to show only to Laxus. He needed…

"It's nothing. Sorry if I woke you."

"Go back to your dorm, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What?"

"The trains start running early. I can probably be at yours by ten," Freed mused aloud. "I want you to go back and try to sleep. You mentioned that Bickslow has hypnosis tapes he uses to sleep, borrow one."

"Freed, you don't need to come here," Laxus tried to argue, though he didn't want to. "You don't have the money."

"I'll find it," Freed dismissed. "The next train leaves at seven, I believe. I'll be on it."

"Freed."

"Laxus."

Anyone who thought that Laxus was the more stubborn one out of the two of them clearly didn't know Freed.

"You really don't need to come," Laxus whispered, the rain pounding on the small box he sheltered in. "I'll be fine."

"You deserve to be better than fine, Laxus," Freed whispered back.

Silence hung on the line, and at that moment Laxus' world only persisted of the small phonebooth, the rain clattering down on it, and the man on the other end of the phone. He closed his eyes, clenched them shut, and tried to focus on the soft sound of Freed's breathing. Freed was coming. He was coming to make things better. As much as Laxus wanted to protest more, because Freed couldn't afford it and he was going to miss his classes, he just wanted his boyfriend in his arms. He just wanted him there.

"Are you sure?" He asked in a shaking sob.

"Of course," Freed assured him. "Go back to your room and sleep, I'll be there soon."

Laxus did indeed return to his room. He showered off the rainwater, ignored Bickslow's questions as to what happened, and curled up into bed. The white noise tape that Bickslow gave him cleared his mind, and as he assured himself that the clump of blanket he was clinging to would soon be replaced with Freed, he felt everything become just a little more manageable.

---

Sun hit Laxus' face, a gentle warmth that woke him up. He smiled as it happened.

A roadside motel was hardly the most comfortable place to wake up, but Laxus couldn't think of anywhere better to be at that time. No amount of bitter coffee, cramped showers, awful breakfasts, and itchy sheets would stop that. Not when he was waking up with Freed in his arms.

It was Freed's graduation day, the final nail in the coffin of their shared college experiences. Once today had finished, there would be no more dorm rooms, no more phone calls, no more long distance. They just needed to get through the ceremony, and they would be free to spend as much time as they wanted together, without the looming dread of being split apart by the oncoming semester that had previously seemed ever present.

It was over. They were done with college and free to love each other fully and wholly.

They'd found an apartment they could afford. They'd gotten an odd look when their realter had seen two men wanting to live in a cramped, one bedroom apartment, but they didn't care. Three years split apart was over, and they felt they deserved their own place no matter what other people thought about it. They'd more than paid their dues in being apart; they were owed time, and a home, together.

It worked out well. Freed's career meant he needed to continue studying, and he'd found placement in a hospital on a partial scholarship in New York. Laxus, over his time in college, had decided sports journalism was where his passion lay, and he'd been shortlisted for multiple internships in the city. It was all perfect.

Speaking of perfect, Freed made a small mewling sound as he woke.

"Mornin'," Laxus smiled.

"Morning," Freed croaked. He leant up and pressed his lips against Laxus', resting against his body. "You're awake early."

"Excited to see you get yer degree," Laxus shrugged.

"Excited to see me leaving the dorms, more like," Freed chuckled, resting his head against Laxus' chest.

"Can you blame me?" Laxus asked as he ran a hand down Freed's side and kissed his crown.

"Not at all," Freed hummed, contentedly.

Laxus hummed, watching as the new morning sun filled the room. Flashes of a future where this would be his every morning, where Freed would always fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him. Freed would be his, and he would be Freed's, as they were always supposed to be.

Their love story was quiet, made up of fleeting moments and late-night phone calls. Not the stuff of fairy tales, but, for them, perfect.

[drethanramslay]

Without You

Pairing: Logan x MC (Lexi Cahill)

Masterlist

Word count: 2.5 K words

Warning: Just a little cursing, here and there and Angst

MC is actually not present in this fic, this is Logan's POV, four months after he had to leave LA

Author's note: I decided to take part in @rodappreciationweek so here is my submission :)) 

Thanks to @choicesarehard @brightpinkpeppercorn and @client-327 for hosting this 💙

Thanks to @mvalentine for pre-reading it❤️❤️

Title inspiration: Without You by Avicii (ft. Sandro Cavazza)

Song: Gone by Blake Rose

Forgive me if I make any mistakes.

The rays of the sun spilled through the crack in my curtains, making the white walls a yellow hue. My eyes were bleary and red rimmed. It had just been moments since I woke up and my hangover struck me like a train wreck, a familiar electric pain behind my eyes.

I shouldn't have drank so much.

I moved my head to only see an an empty bed side. Of course she left. Who would want to stick around after a one night stand?

The hazy memories of last night filtered through my head, making me wince. Another night, another rave, another tray of shots and another chick to bang.

You could call it saturday shenanigans but, this was different.

Everything was different since I left her.

All my days just seem to melt away into a haze of alcohol and drugs... Today, tomorrow, yesterday seems to fuse into this neverending torture, an ache which no matter how much I drink or how many girls I fuck, never fucking ceases to hurt. The only thing which can fix this gaping wound in my heart is Lexi.

But she is not here.

And never will be.

So this is how it has been for the past weeks. Me getting inebriated to new extremes just to numb the pain and to temporarily erase the loneliness before I become sober again.

Because when I'm in those intoxicated wastelands, I'm so out of it that I can almost hallucinate her dancing with me. I can almost smell her strawberry shampoo, tickling my nose. I can almost hear her tinkling laugh.

And in my alcohol induced sleep, I dream of her in my arms the both of us fitting together, like two jigsaw puzzles.

I despise being sober. Because when I am In my senses, the entire load of loss weighs down on me, crushing me and suffocating me. The 'could have been's' and the regret are all a heavy burden on my shoulders.

A small part of me is often wishing, praying and hoping that things could just go back to normal but, deep in my gut I know, that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

Nothing is ever going to be the same, now that she was gone...

How much time does it take to get over people?

It may be a day, a week, a month or a year. There is no definitive time span for getting over someone you loved, someone you cherished or someone who was close to your heart.

I think it depends on how much of an impact the said person had on you or how much of a void that person left in you.

I was the wild and carefree guy, with no strings attached and never saw myself being the one to fall in love because... Let's admit it, love is a vulnerability, a weakness which people don't hesitate to exploit.

But fast forward to four months later, I am in the same category as those emotional pussies crying over a breakup.

Being brought up in foster homes made me grow up quickly. Some houses were good and caring whilst some were harsh. And knowing that I am the most cursed person to walk the earth, I was always was stuck with the shitty households.

Don't believe me? I still have those scars from the fights and the beatings.

Growing up in such a hostile environment, taught me that there is no room for weakness or error and that love and feelings are just some fairy tale myth which is made by philosophical fools to give you a sense of hope.

But, hope is a dangerous thing, two side of the same coin. It can make you and break you.

I don't think I would have survived my childhood but... That's when I fell in love with cars.

It holds a special place in my heart.

The way my adrenaline spikes as the pointer on my speedometer achieves unattainable speeds, the way I feel the purr of my engine resound through my entire body and they way it's just me, my car and the open road... Nobody could ever compare to that sensation of freedom.

Well, that was before I met her.

Lexi Cahill.

I admit it started off as a way to recruit her as an informant, a tool to stay out of prison, another heart to break.

But little did I know that life would pull the fucking reverse uno card on me. But, I'm low-key glad it did.

It's been 4 months since that scum bag was thrown into the jail.

Four months since the crew went its separate ways.

Four months since I walked away from her.

I don't want to let you go...

Those words were on a repeat in his head, like a broken tape recorder and her teary eyes and broken expression is forever burnt into his brain. It was so hard to let her go. The one time I found a reason to stay, a reason to fight for, a reason to stop running, life just fucked it all up.

It was a tussle, a war between what my heart wanted and the logical side of me which just left me exhausted.

In conclusion, heartbreak sucks.

I reach for my phone and switch it on to check the time. But my eyes fall on our prom photo which I had made as my wallpaper. It's really stupid how head over heels I'm in love with her.

But it's the truth.

There is a saying that life gives you only one great love and that many people go for years without that.

I was one of the few lucky people to get that at 18.

But life is not sunflowers and unicorns shitting rainbows. It's rough, it's hard with its a mix of ups and downs. But it seems like mine is set to be on the all time low.

Staggering to the bathroom, I heavily leaned against the counter, my muscles flexing as I gripped the edge. My eyes lifted to see my reflection staring back at me.

I look like a hot mess.

This isn't you Logan... My inner conscience said, which eerily sounded like her.

God, I really must be losing it, huh?

Slowly and painfully I started my morning chores, my body on auto pilot. My mind kept on wandering to Lexi. She would be in Langston by now.

Would she be in that off shoulder sweater of hers, her feather tattoo peaking from underneath the sleeve? Would she be highlighting and colour coordinating her notes like she always did?

Would she have made new friends? Or dare I say a new boyfriend?

Logan stop hurting yourself. I said to myself as I visibly cringed at the thought of someone else having their arms around her.

The idea of someone else kissing her soft lips or someone else holding her hands or someone else running his hands along the curvature of her naked back made me equal parts angry and sad.

Angry for you know, obvious reasons but sad for the life I had to leave behind in LA.

God I hate this existential crisis shit... It's to early to question life.

I dragged myself in the direction of the kitchen, the smell of bacon waking me up. I was shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants because I was too fucking tired to wear anything else.

"Look who has decided to grace us with their presence."

"Shut up Carl, it's too early for your bullshit." Raven said as she slapped the top of his head.

I shot her a look of gratitude as I sank into my seat and reached for the plate of pancakes.

Carl and Raven were the closest thing to parents for me. Carl was a tough man with huge muscles, around six feet tall but, he was as goofy as a child. Raven was his girlfriend who was hella intimidating. The kohl lined eyes and the floral tattoo on the side of her shaven head made her look fierce. Both of them were in their early thirties and ran the Detroit Central crew.

We three were in a different crew when I was 15 and they really took a liking for me. They taught me everything I know and they are the family that I always came back too.

I dug into my breakfast, eating slowly and savouring the sweetness of the maple syrup.

"Thank god you are atleast eating now." Raven said as she ruffled my hair and turned towards the sink.

I shrugged and Carl picked up the newspaper to read, settling into his seat. Suddenly, the bell rang which had all of our backs becoming as stiff as a rod.

"Were you expecting someone, darlin'?" Raven asked, trying to peak through the windows.

"Don't get up, I'll do it." Carl said as he picked up the gun on the counter and pushed it into the back pocket of his cargo pants.

I was frozen, terrified. I had been very careful in escaping but me being the reckless fool and getting drunk seven ways to Sunday may have tipped them off.

I'm such a colossal dumbass.

I could hear Carl's gruff voice talking but I couldn't peek at the person on the other side of the door. I just sank further into my seat, hoping that it was some lost person and not the FBI.

"Boy this one's for you." He moved aside and the person I least expected to see walked in.

"You look like shit."

"Good morning to you too, asshole." I rolled my eyes.

Colt walked into the kitchen, wearing his trademark leather jackets and dark jeans. His combat boots made a thud sound with each step which made my headache worse.

"Will you be okay, Lo-lo?" Raven asked, her eyes flitting to the jerk standing in her kitchen.

Colt snorted at the nickname but luckily kept his mouth shut.

"Yep Ra. Meet Colt Kaneko. Colt meet Raven and Carl." I spoke at I stood up and put my dirty dishes in the sink.

"Oh you are Kaneko's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"We heard about what went down in LA. Our condolences. He was a great man."

He gave a nod. It was a sore subject for me as well. That night in the alley, I wished I could take it back. I usually am not one to regret what I spew but whatever I said to Kaneko is another burden I'm gonna carry all my life.

"Also heard about your crew busted the Brotherhood? You were the mastermind behind it right?" Carl said as he crossed his arms.

"As much as I would love to take the credit, it was Lexi who came up with the plan." Colt said his eyes darted towards me, gauging my reaction.

"The newbie? Heard she drives like the wind-"

Hearing her name felt like an iron fist clenching my heart. That name will always be the source of my happiness, my cherished memories and my melancholy.

"Colt let's take this to the backyard, shall we?" Logan spoke up, interrupting them.

He walked to the back door and Colt followed him wordlessly. It a sunny day but a cool breeze blew which provided some kind of relief.

I reached to take out two beers from the cooler and handed him one. Colt raised an eyebrow.

"Beer... At ten in the morning?"

I shrugged as I popped the bottle cap off mine. "It's 5pm somewhere else."

"That's true too. Cheers." We clinked the necks of our bottles and took a sip as we sat down on the patio chairs.

I turned towards him. "So what brings you to Detroit?"

"To see your pretty face?" Colt said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

I snorted. "Always knew you had a thing for me, pretty boy."

"Always knew that you had an ego the size of Jupiter, dickhead. Some things just don't change."

I sighed. "Can't say the same for me through. Everything is different now."

Surprisingly, Colt didn't mock him. He stared down at the bottle in his hands. "Yeah... I can understand. How are you holding up?" He asked as he turned to face me.

I took a huge gulp of my beer before responding, my eyes staring at the mango tree in my neighbor's back yard.

"Not too good. It's been hard for the last couple of months. Kaneko's death, leaving LA and maintaining a low profile... It's been tough."

Life without Lexi is tough.

"Yeah I can understand. I still imagine pops opening the door to wake me up. And don't get me started on the FBI... bunch of bloodsuckers." He muttered the last part.

I snorted. "I'll drink to that."

"Good thing they are off our backs now." Colt spoke eyeing him from the corner of his eyes.

I scoffed. "Bitch please. They are anything but lazy. They are gonna continue hunting us down till the end of time."

"I meant that we are not the top priorities at the moment. Sure Mona was sent to jail but, a little birdie told me that they are after this 'world class' thief at the moment."

"That's a relief I guess."

"Do you know what this means?" He asked taking another sip of beer.

"It's too early for my brain to function. Come to the point, asshole."

"We are rebuilding the crew, dickhead."

My eyes widened. "No way."

"Yup." He said popping the 'p'. He downed the remainder of his beer before standing up. "I'm done repairing the garage. We have a job in two months and I need a crew for that. I already have Ximena on board and now I'm gonna go over to Toby's."

My mind was swimming. Mercy Park Crew was coming back for good.

I looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "What about Lexi?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I said I'm rebuilding the crew, I also meant recruiting Lexi, dumbass."

Oh god.

She is going to come back.

I was frozen in my place once again. I had often asked myself how I would react if I got the chance to meet her again. I always imagined that I would let out the loudest cheer and dance like a mad man.

But this is reality and my thundering heart was a reminder of that.

"Why are you sitting there with your mouth open like a fish? Go! Get your girl."

And that was it. I rushed to my room, put on some decent clothes and haphazardly stuffed my things into my satchel. Grabbing my keys and yelling a quick good bye to Raven and Carl, I was out and in my 2005 Devore GT.

Reving the engine I took off on the roads of Detroit, heading for the highway.

The window was open and the breeze threaded through my unruly hair, making me feel alive. My hands clutched the wheel and my foot pressed down on the accelerator, speeding through the empty streets.

For the first time, in a very long, the roads which felt like a never ending maze for me, were the very ones which were the path to my freedom.

The path to my happiness.

The path to my Lexi.

I hope you liked it 😊

Logan x mc: @kaavyaethanramsey @openheart @skylarklyon @shadowycreatorpaperopera @pixelberryownsme @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @anotherbeingsworld​

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[jupiterswlrd]

𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐙

warnings: drug trafficking and slight explicit language.

pairing: drugdealerhongjoong x drugdealerreader

[☂︎☆☂︎☆]

hongjoong came up to you after school, more hyper than usual. he just sat and stared at you with a small box in his hand. "uhm...." you looked around to see it you were missing something. "we gotta go deliver it!" hongjoong yelled happily, yet you were still lost on what exactly he was talking about. "what exactly do we have to deliver?" you took the box from him skeptically getting ready to open it. "NO—" he shouted practically for the whole campus to hear, snatching the box back.

"he said not to open it so we're not opening it"

"and who exactly is this 'he' you speak of"

"i don't know, some tatted big dude. i didn't ask many questions"

hongjoong started walking in the complete opposite of where you two lived. you were going to ask another question but knowing hongjoong he didn't know much either. "you coming?" he asked realizing you weren't following him. "oh yeah of course!" you snapped out of it and walked along side him. 'i mean it's hongjoong, whats the worst that could happen?' you thought to yourself a reassuring smile appearing on your face.

"wait up!—" you shouted after the boy as his pace quickened, even when there was no competition he tended to be a bit competitive. "you're too slow! we have to deliver this package by 4!" you caught up to him and looked at your watch,

"ITS THREE-THIRTY"

"why do you think i'm rushing?" he rolled his eyes as if you were supposed to know his exact plan, knowing him he probably didn't have a plan. "you're annoying" you mumbled, shutting your eyes tightly. "well...you're annoying-er" he said still with the brightest smile on his face. it amazed you that no matter how many you yelled at him, he still kept the same smile on his face, it also kind of pissed you off.

"you're lucky we're friends" you mumbled putting on your hood seeing the clouds in the sky get closer together and grow darker. "well we're more than friends! we're best friends and have been for what...10 years?" hongjoong was just walking, seeming as if he had no destination. "yeah, yeah" you mocked.

hongjoong suddenly stopped walking and walked up the drive way of some rundown seemingly abandoned house. "google said this was the right address" he was just as confused as you were. "right...." you tugged on the bottom of your lip with your lip nervously. "y/n...be a doll—" you cut him off already knowing what he was about to ask. "fuck no!" you yelled feeling agitated "you do it, it's your package."

"actually i kinda told the guy that you and i were gonna do it..."

"you— did you tell him my name?"

"no...i didn't even tell him my name"

"oh great!" you turned right around acting like you were about to leave "that means i don't actually have to do this." hongjoong whined making your heart beat quicken, "y/n please!" you sighed feeling yourself give in and turn back around. "let's just do it together." even with you saying that none of you thought to move an inch closer up the drive way until a raspy voice yelled at you.

"who the fuck are you?" a raspy voice called out scaring the two, almost making hongjoong drop the package. hongjoong decided to walk to the front door, "i have a p-package for you sir" he nervously handed it to him. the man snatched the package and handed it to someone behind him and chuckled. "i see he has kids doing his dirty work for him..."

the man was fine to you, but not too fine to you. he gave off a slightly suspicious vibe to you that made your skin crawl. "man—who the fuck is he?" you said from behind hongjoong feeling slightly bolder than usual. "trust me pretty girl, you don't wanna know" that made you feel breathless for a quick moment.

the man handed hongjoong a bunch of 100 dollar bills held together by a simple rubber band. "when he come to find you two, tell him he's pathetic..." hongjoong nodded in fear only to have the door slammed in his face.

"what the fuck was that?" hongjoong said grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the driveway. being confused wasn't out of character for him, but cursing sure wasn't. you heard thunder rolling in the distance making you groan and feel for your umbrella in your bookbag, to your dismay it was not there.

"to be honest hongjoong..." you gulped "i think we just did a drug deal"

the rain started coming down at the right time, making hongjoong let a string of curses.

"okay? and it's probably a one time thing! just a little test run right?"

"yes because drug dealers just let you sell their drugs once and never again!"

"...."

"exactly hongjoong." you rolled your eyes and kept walking.

"drug dealings not all that bad right? we could gain a little respect or something"

"actually no! we could get killed or robbed or stabbed or worse..."

hongjoong snorted. "what's worse?"

"JAIL"

you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate, "you're too pretty to go to jail, i'm too pretty to go to jail. it's not happening. next time you see that guy tell him to fuck off." headlights blinded your vision as an all black mercedes pulled up next to you. "tell me to what?" the man formerly known as 'he' had a small grin on his face. and despite how big he was built and the many tattoos on his body, he wasn't all that intimidating. "get in." he commanded.

you hesitated to open the back doors of his car, anxiety filling your body. "i don't bite..." he sighed watching hongjoong do the same making you scoot over. "the money?" he said with a threatening voice. hongjoongs hands were shaking as he handed him the stack. "i'm surprised he didn't try to cheat you two." the man handed you 3 hundred dollar bill, each.

"you two did good for your first time did jiy—he have anything to say?"

"oh um...he called—" hongjoong glanced over at you for help.

"he called you pathetic" you cringed finishing the sentence.

"pathetic huh" the man chuckled, lighting a cigarette and rolling down the window. the odor of cigarette smoke fills your nose making you cough a bit. "what's pathetic is how he's barely making money out of that pathetic house he runs" the man chuckled again shaking his head. "i'm sure you'll outsell him in no time"

"wh—" you started feeling the car coming to a screeching halt. "this is as close as you guys are getting" he unlocked the doors and nodded towards the door for you two to get out. "i'll see you both tomorrow, at exactly this time and exactly at this place"

you two were dropped off at a play ground you often went to when you were a child. heck, you even met hongjoong at this playground. once you two got out the car he sped off not even giving you time to say thank you or goodbye or whatever you were supposed to say in that situation. "well..." you started walking towards your house, hongjoong left in disbelief behind you. "come on we can't just sit right here" you turned around feeling the rain start to soak your hoodie.

"i know i know it's just—"

"it's just were drug dealers now, i know i was there remember?"

"what are we gonna do?"

"nothing."

[xxisxxisxxis]

La fin

Inspired by this ask.

Present day Duff and Vivian reflect on their romantic relationship

I sat down with my best friend to discuss our affair for the first time in 26 years…and gain a final piece of closure the two of us have yet to attain from one another. 

"This is gonna be interesting because both of our spouses are here." I say as I sit down, at my kitchen bar and Duff takes a sip of his water before joining me.

"Nah, Su's as cool as a cucumber. We got this." He replies. "...I don't know about Sixx but me, you and Su can handle it." He teases. 

"If you get war flashbacks, baby, just remember you're sober." I tell Nikki and he chuckles. 

"I'll just go to the bathroom and sing 'Kumbaya'." Nikki adds and Susan laughs. 

"It won't be that bad." She assures him. "I got my waterproof mascara on. I'm ready." 

"I'm getting through this without crying." I state.

"You cry over google commercials, Viv." Duff informs me.

"Because they know how to market. This happened…" I have to do the math. "...thirty-two and a half years ago. I won't cry." 

"Okay, well, just in case, I came prepared." Susan tosses me a pack of Kleenex. 

"Thank you." I say to her, doubting I'll need it.

"I'm about to start the camera." Nikki tells us, going to press start on the camera he's got set up to film this. "Oh, it's already started." He states. 

"It's okay, people won't care." I shrug, taking a sip of my Pepsi. "Okay, Hey, Guys." I say to the camera. "This is a very special occasion because I'm here with my best friend, and the father of my first child, Michael Andrew McKagan a.k.a Duff McKagan a.k.a Daddy McKagan according to some of you nasty, freaky, bastards." I pipe and Duff rubs his face. 

"Oh my God." He chuckles. 

"Do you read your instagram comments?" I remind him and he nods. 

"It's just so weird to hear it in real time." He explains. "I think that's one of the most odd things you can call a sexual partner. Like…'daddy'..."

We just stare at each other for a moment and I look at the camera. 

"He just single handedly dragged me in the nicest way possible." I say to him as Nikki and Susan try not to laugh. 

"No, I jus--well, you can say whatever the hell you wanna say and call him whatever you wanna call him because you've earned it with the shit you've been through, but it's just odd for me to go online and there's, like, girls 30 years younger than me calling me 'daddy.' Like, I'm not sure if you realize this, sweetie, but I have daughters your age." He points out and I start laughing. "I-I could actually be your dad. Careful now." 

"I think Vince has a higher chance of being these horny girls' father." I state. 

"I know, but it's just food for thought, you know?" He shrugs. 

"I don't even know how to transition from that to the topic--which is a serious topic, but this is just...oh my gosh." I giggle out, not able to stop. 

"Speaking of 'food for thought'," He creates a transition for us to go into what we're talking about and I take the opportunity. 

"Yes, we will be discussing our weird relationship-but-not-really-because-I-was-married-and-confused situationship in honor of my book coming out 'Verbatim: The Truth, The Whole Truth, & Nothing Left Unsaid', which tells everything that happened from 1981, to early 2000s, that people have already read about in everybody else's books." I explain. "I've had this, 'it isn't anybody's business' mindset and now, I feel like I'm in a place where I can tell what happened, including our thing--which is something, believe it or not, we have not talked about as much as people think we have." 

"No, we haven't." 

"I don't know exactly why we haven't spoken about it much, like it happened, it obviously happened because we got a son out of it...we just haven't acknowledged it happened, really. Which is why we're gonna ask the tough questions and hopefully get through some stuff."

"Which is nice because I honestly think the last time we even alluded to it was 1994, right after I got sober, and was advised to resolve things in my friendships, and even then we didn't get everything out there." He replies. "At least I didn't, and I feel like a lot of people have something to say about it, and we spent so many years letting other people define what that time was to us--which it was such a private and personal thing between the two of us that other people's two cent shouldn't have had the impact on us that it did--but we let it get to that point where we lost sight of what it meant to us and let it be defined however the fuck people wanted to call it. And that wasn't good for either of us, and I think that's one of the things that's kept me from bringing it up again. Especially now that, ya know, I'm married, have two grown daughters with Susan, you have Nikki and your children, and I've always thought there's no point in bringing something up that happened--like you said--thirty-two, almost thirty-three--years ago.

"Because you don't want to hear the b.s."

"Because I don't want to hear the b.s." He agrees. "But the more I've thought about it, there are parts of me that feels like I didn't get to say what I wanted to say when we decided to go separate ways, and that just gets fucking heavier and heavier with each year, and I'm sure you might, too." 

"Oh, definitely." I agree completely, able to relate to it. "I feel like one of the main reasons for me, why I haven't tried to talk to you about it is because, like you said, people will automatically start something out of absolutely nothing, but also because I felt like I never had the right to." I state and he furrows his brows a little. "Why did you wait so long to tell me how you really felt about me?

He lets out a breath before thinking a moment. 

"I refused to hinder what little happiness you had left in your relationship with Nikki. I knew you guys were struggling, I knew you were fighting like hell to get your relationship back on track, and I didn't want you to have any more confusion going on than what was already being put on you and if I would have told you how I felt, that would've done that. And then I was with Mandy for a while and that kinda helped me feel like I was over those feelings, but I realized I wasn't when she and I broke up."

"Did anybody else know about how you felt or..?"

"Well, I--yeah, Stevie thought it was just a little, like, I had a crush on you, but Izzy knew I loved you...which is why he wasn't shocked when they found out about us." He says. "...Of course he wasn't surprised because all the Nikki/Vanity stuff happened, so he was kinda expecting you to do something, which--okay, I don't know how to ask this." He admits, thinking of how to word it, glancing at Nikki. 

"What?" I ask him. 

"I just don't want to come across as an asshole for asking this because I'm assuming it's a lot deeper than just...okay, whatever, I'm asking it." He decides. 

"Okay." I prepare for it and he sighs. 

"Why did it take that level of public humiliation for you to realize you weren't in a good marriage?" He asks and it nearly makes the breath leave my body, Nikki and I looking at each other. 

"Because it was public." I confess. "Everything else that had been done, had been done in private. There was no public input on it, there was nobody watching the situation unfold under a microscope, everything that happened up to that point was private. So, he could trip during a crack binge and shoot me and I could stay with him because I didn't have the public watching me, giving their opinions. But when his mistress announces it on TV, I can't just gloss over that because now everybody knows and has an inkling that 'uh oh, they're not this perfect relationship they've made people believe they are' and yes we came out and said it was a lie and tried to undo that damage that Denise caused, so physically I was still in the marriage, mentally I was drawing up divorce papers. And I'm not completely sure it was just the very public aspect of it, I think it was the fact it was her. And I realized, 'I can't compete with a woman who has absolutely everything about her that Nikki is addicted to: she knows how to have a good time, she's equally as wild as him, she's got the sex appeal, she's got all the drugs, she's on the same level as him in terms of entertainment industry' just everything that I wasn't...she was. And I was too exhausted at the point to try to compete with her so I gave up when that came out."

"I remember Izzy ranting, 'she's fucking comparing herself to Vanity and there's no reason to'." He impersonates Izzy and I chuckle. 

"He drilled into my head for years to follow that I was fine the way I was, I didn't need to change anything about my looks, my personality, my hobbies, my sobriety, like it was like 'The Help' when she's constantly reassuring the little girl 'you is smart, you is kind, you is important'." I quote. "Anytime Izzy could see me struggling with myself or not feeling my best he'd be like 'seventeen outta ten, Viv. Seventeen.'" 

Duff looks enlightened, and points to the space behind my right ear. 

"That's why've got '17' right there." He realizes and I nod. "In his writing." He adds. 

"In his writing." I confirm. 

"That's--wow. I didn't know you struggled with that for so long because there was no competition." He assures me.

"Well, I already had shitty self-esteem and then that made it worse, and then even when you and I were together I still had this fear a little bit that you were only with me to help yourself get over Mandy." 

"Abso-fucking-lutely not." He doesn't even think before saying and I feel myself tear up a little. "No way. No freaking way. I loved you, Viv, I really, really did. When you told me that you were filing as soon as the tour was over I started planning out our lives together, as crazy or cheesy that makes me seem, like, I was really going for it." He tells me.

"Duff." I feel guilty, my heart aching a little. 

"I remembered, 'okay, she wants this many kids, she says she likes dogs but really wants a cat, too, she doesn't want to live in the middle of the city, she doesn't want an over-the-top house, she wants to go back to school at some point so I'll put away some savings for that', like, I was planning out everything and fitting Guns N' Roses in wherever there was time in that whole plan. I was ready to be with you and start a life with you. I really, really was." He adds and I see Susan's sympathy for him, only adding to my guilt. 

"Well, just rip my heart out, why don't you?" I ask him to add some relief and Susan giggles, her bright smile coming back to her lips. 

"Right?" She asks. "Geez, babe." 

"I'm just saying." Duff tells us. 

"Nikki didn't even plan his days out when he woke up back then, and then you were there with a calculator adding up how much money you probably needed to put away for my schooling." 

"We wouldn't have had any money to go to school, anyway, Viv, 'cause it was all going to taxes and heroin." Nikki points out and I think for a moment. 

"And house payments." 

"And house payments." He agrees as I look back to Duff, who looks like he's thinking about something. 

"Okay, sorry if this is a weird question, but what did you mean you felt like you had 'no right' to talk about our relationship?" 

"Okay, well, we broke up, I was working on things with Nikki, you married Mandy four months after we broke up...I felt like 'okay, you've already gotten your husband back, he's gotten Mandy back, they're married, who the--' pardon my french ''--fuck are you to bring up your relationship and how it affected your friendship when you're both married to other people and doing your own things? Who are you to be worried with your time with him when you're with Nikki and he's got a wife, now?'." 

"Ohh, yeah. Yeah." He knows what I'm talking about, nodding. "So, you kinda felt like it was disrespectful to dwell on it too long." He adds. 

"Exactly. And I didn't want to disrespect Nikki, or Mandy, or Linda, and now Susan, by trying to work on us again, as friends, because we are exes, whether we want to admit it, we are. We dated. And I feel like it's easy to forget that sometimes because it was so long ago and that freaking sucks because I don't want…" My voice cracks and he looks at me pointedly as tears come to my eyes and I take a deep breath. "...I don't want to forget that time. And I'm not trying to be rude to my marriage or yours or make it seem like I still have those feelings for you, because I don't, but I don't want to forget there was a time in that hellacious cycle my life was in at that moment, that for a few months, I was genuinely happy in the midst of my life falling apart." I explain, sniffling. "And that wouldn't have been the case, if not for you. And I don't want to forget that." 

"Vivian." He says as I grab at a tissue and I see Susan knuckle a tear in her tear duct. 

"I don't know, it just felt like there was never a right time to address what happened fully because everything was happening so fast in our personal lives, for you and Guns, for Nikki and the band, I started having kids, and you got married a second time and your drinking was worse and worse, so it just never happened." 

"Can I ask you something else?" He says and I nod. "When do you think we should have said, 'look, we were together, it happened, and it's okay'. Because we avoided it like the plague for years and still do at times, and that's practically due to--like I said earlier--listening to how people defined it. Like you were called a 'whore' and a 'slut' and just awful shit in public and in papers and tabloids for years after it happened and I feel like because of that, there was that element of 'we should be ashamed of ourselves and just pretend it never fucking happened' surrounding it, even though we had Monroe who's breathing proof of what happened at some point, but we just treated it as if we adopted him together as friends or something like--" I laugh, wiping a tear, and he laughs with me for a few seconds. "--it's the truth, though, we never talked about our relationship. We went on Howard Stern in '88 right after Monroe was born, and he grilled us about it, but we just shut the fuck down after that and didn't speak of anything again for a couple years until we got in that fight over you limiting my time with Monroe, and then again in '94, and that was it--and none of those times really accomplished anything. At all." 

"We should have had that conversation before you got married to Mandy that May." I point out.

"That was so, so soon." He smiles nervously. "That was too soon, way too soon, to get married."

"You proposed to her the day after we broke up." I recall and he nods. 

"I sure did. I sure as hell did. So stupid." He states. "I learned not to make important decisions when I'm in pain. 'Cause I married two different women when I was going through some painful stuff and only made it worse." He explains. 

"And see that's the thing because you had me completely convinced you wanted Mandy. Like I felt so much better when we broke up, knowing you were with who you really wanted to be with, and I was with who I wanted to be with, and then I found out in an argument with you that you were miserable and married Mandy to try to make yourself excited about being back together with her." 

"And that's exactly why I told you that because I needed you to be happy and if I would have told you how I really felt about you, you wouldn't have been happy because you would've felt guilty for staying with Nikki and fixing things with him. And I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I would have put you through that so I married Mandy so fast because I was hurt, and I thought I loved her as much as I loved you, and I held on to that and ran with it." He tells me. "Why wasn't I good enough for you to stay?" 

I go to answer, before the weight of what he's asking really hits me, and several tears topple down my cheeks before I'm wiping them away. 

"I can't begin to put into words how highly you surpassed 'good enough'." I inform him when I finally speak. "Um, my decision to stay with Nikki had absolutely nothing to do with you. That was all me, and issues I thought were resolved within myself that weren't resolved at all, I was just ignoring them." I say. "And something in me was telling me not to stay with you...and I fully believe that was God telling me to back the hell off because he had a plan for you and I had no business accompanying you in that plan as your significant other." I explain. "And I hate to say this, but I really feel like we would have gotten divorced." 

His eyes widen and his brows raise, a knowing smile on his lips as his nods his head. 

"And I hate to think that but we would have made it, maybe, up until '92 because I wasn't even your wife or your girlfriend but just being around you made me so miserable." I admit. "I-It was like--you would get up and start drinking until you passed out that night. I was watching the person who had his shit together the most in my life, fall apart, and that was scary for me because we had a son who was witnessing his dad spiral." 

"Yeah." He rubs his lips together. 

"And getting you to take accountability for what you were doing was like trying to bathe a cat." I add.

"And it took me months after getting sober to evaluate what went wrong in my life with the band, what went wrong in my relationships, what went wrong in my parenting with Monroe, what went wrong in my friendship/co-parentship with you, and own up to what I played a part in because none of it imploded on it's own, or just because of other people, like I played a part in all of it, too, and admitting that took a lot of time to swallow my pride and just accept that I became the very thing I got pissed at Nikki for being, years prior to that, and saying, 'okay, I made all those mistakes, I fucked up, how can I do better and learn from it to better myself, to better my friendships, to better my relationship with my son, and just do what I'm supposed to do?' And I even ended up going to Nikki, and apologizing for what happened between us," he motions between me and him, "because even before you and him were separated over the Vanity thing, knowing you went to me for shit, over him, made him feel less than, made him feel like he wasn't a good enough husband and I kinda felt the same way when he stepped up for Monroe when I was going through my drinking, and it made me feel like I wasn't adequate enough as a father because Monroe was leaning a bit more on him than he was on me, and for the shit I was going through in my life with my alcoholism and drugs, I was doing the best I could do as a dad. And it made me realize that Nikki was doing the best he could do as a husband back when he was in the thick of his heroin addiction, because he was sick and couldn't fucking help himself, just like I was sick and couldn't help myself, and neither of us wanted to hear we had a problem, neither of us wanted help. And I know people are gonna, 'well, Nikki cheated and was mean to her and this and that', I know what you looked like when Nikki was hurting you. I know the look you would get on your face...I know that I hurt you as much as Nikki did through my drinking because you would look at me the way you would look at him when you weren't recognizing the person in front of you due to how royally they had fucked themselves up." 

"Yes." I nod, not even arguing. 

"And that fucking hurt to realize that I was hurting you as bad as he had, and I remembered getting so pissed at him for doing that back in '86/'87 as he got worse, but then I did it, too, and that experience really opened my eyes when I got sober because I wouldn't have been humbled in that way had I not had a drinking addiction and reached that low, and I do think that's one of the reasons that was allowed to happen to me." He finishes and I take a deep breath before asking:

"If Monroe wouldn't have been conceived, if we wouldn't have had a child to come out of our relationship, knowing what we know now, how we ended up not staying together, the public slander and stuff we had to go through...would you still have had a relationship with me, if you could go back and change it?" 

"Without a doubt, yes." He says, matter-of-fact. "It would have been a waste of a blessing to not have taken the opportunity to love someone as recklessly--maybe even stupidly, at times--unconditionally, with the magnitude I loved you with, at such a young age. Like, usually you can expect to find something like what we had when people get a little older, and get through all their bullshit relationships before finding the person that loves them for them fully, but I had the chance of experiencing that when I was, like, in my early twenties...and I didn't experience that again, and so much more, until I met Susan." He says and I nod. "And I don't want you to think that because we haven't spoken about it, maybe as much as we should have, that I'm ashamed of you or us or embarrassed, because I'm not proud that we did what we did in that timing--because it was really shitty timing and we both can agree on that, I think," he raises his brows and I agree, "but I will never be ashamed, or apologetic,  or embarrassed that I ever had that with you. I felt like one of the most fortunate people to even know you, and then to have that relationship we had--even for the few months it lasted--was just...it was such a short time compared to how long you've been with Nikki and how long I've been with Su, but we spent it loving each other the best that we could. And we really did love each other, and we do still love each other--even if it's not in that same way, the spirit of it, I guess, is still there. There's still that 23 year old kid in me that'll kick somebody's ass over you, and wants to see you happy, and is in absolute love with you. And don't get me wrong, there's a 56 year old me that wants to see you happy and that'll still kick somebody's ass over you." He clarifies, making me laugh. "I'm just pointing out that even when those feelings went away, I don't think that bond ever did." 

"Yeah." I nod, sniffling as I press a tissue to under my eye to catch more tears. "Do you, um...do you remember our break up?" 

He exhales and gives me a little smile, nodding, before tears come to his eyes.

"I--yeah, I...I remember it…" He informs me. 

"We had just gotten done messing around, and if we did anything before we went to bed we would just stay in bed and go to sleep, but if we did anything in the afternoon or whatever we'd get up shortly after and clean up and go about the day. And we got done, it was, like, 2:00pm, and it was this odd feeling in the midst of it that 'this is gonna be the last time we ever do this with one another', and neither of us said a word, we just laid there with each other for four hours when we were done, taking in every second that we could. Well I finally got up to go back home and check on Nikki because he had OD'd the night before." I explain. 

"And you went to the door to leave and I stopped you, and was like, 'I know you're going to make things right with Nikki, and I'm going to fix things with Mandy, and I want you to know that I love you, and I'm proud of you, and I always will and always will be'. Of course you can understand me a little better now because I was crying when I choked those out, but, um," he laughs and I smile back more tears. "And you said, 'thank you, I love you, Duff' and gave me a kiss and a hug and then you were gone." 

"And we rarely spoke about it, again."

"And we rarely spoke about it, again." He confirms and I let out a breath, feeling more tears swell in my eyes. "What a fucking way to end a relationship." He adds. 

"This is where I'm really gonna start crying, um…" I start, chuckling nervously. "...I wasn't thanking you for being understanding, I was thanking you for everything that you'd done for me, and it took me a while to understand that that was one of the things I felt like was unresolved because that 'thank you' had a lot of weight behind it." I tell him. 

"Okay." He tells me, listening intently. 

"This is so freaking stupid and unhealthy but I wrote suicide notes for when Nikki finally OD'd and died, because I knew if he were to go, I'd have to go with him, I couldn't live without him." I tell him and he looks a shocked. "You taught me that I could live without him when I didn't think that I could, and you brought me so much peace and rest in a time when I couldn't remember the last time I was at peace, and I sure as hell couldn't get any rest. And I felt, and still feel, so indebted to you for those months that you spent trying your hardest to fix what you didn't break--you risked your career over me, you protected me, you defended me, you supported me, you loved me--and that's what I was thanking you for that day, and I feel like I've got a weight off my shoulders now because I have never told you that and I've always wanted to but didn't think it was a good time." 

"Holy shit, Viv." He wipes a stray tear, and I see Susan doing the same, Nikki just smiling at me like he's glad I've gotten that weight off of me, because he knows I've been wanting to say it for years.

"And I'm sorry it was such a shitty breakup that kind of came out of nowhere." 

"The way you were screaming and crying and begging God whenever we were trying to get Nikki to wake up, I knew if he lived you were gonna fix things. I was prepared for it, I promise." He assures me. "And I'm really glad we got to do this and get this out there with each other and I really hope you were able to get some closure with this, because I really did." 

"I did, too." I nod, wiping more tears. 

"I love you." He tells me as we get out of our chairs, giving me a quick, innocent, peck on the lips, before hugging me tightly.  

"I love you, too." 

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[motleyfuckingcruee]

Hold On (Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested:

@the--blackdahlia

Description:

I'm craving some Tommy goodness/angst

Warnings:

Accidental overdose, angst, fluff, GET THE TISSUES READY

THE SONG THIS IS LOOSELY BASED ON:

Hold On

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

//

(Your P.O.V)

"FUCK YOU!" You scream at Tommy. You storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

"YOU CAN'T JUST FUCKING STAY IN THERE, (Y/N)! QUIT ACTING LIKE SUCH A BITCH!" Tommy yells through the door.

Tears stream down your face. You knew it was a mistake to confront him about the rumors you'd heard. He got mad because you don't fully trust him. But how can you? He's a rockstar. Chicks want to fuck him left and right. And Tommy can't refuse any of them.

You sit on the floor with your back pressed against the door. You pull your knees up, resting your head on them.

You can't hear anything, so you're guessing Tommy fucked off. Half of you is happy. You're glad the cheating fuck left. The other half is hurt. You want him to fight for your relationship. You guess that's not going to happen.

After an hour or so passes, you finally stop crying. You feel tired and have a splitting headache. You need some aspirin.

You pull yourself up off of the dirty bathroom floor by grabbing onto the also dirty sink. God you need to clean this place up. You pull open the mirror which reveals a cabinet. Multiple pill bottles litter the cabinet. You have no idea what's in most of them. Tommy's the pill popper. Not you. You stick to weed and blow every once in a while.

You finally find the painkillers. You take out four, feeling the headache get worse. You pop them in your mouth and swallow them dry.

You feel your headache go away instantly.

Huh, that's different that normal. You think to yourself.

That's when you feel your body start to go rigid. You feel your heartbeat pick up and you're having trouble breathing. You finally lose your footing. You collapse to the ground, instantly losing consciousness.

------

(Tommy's P.O.V)

I pull another beer out of the fridge. I pop the top open, just wanting to calm down. I've only had two beers so far, and I have a pretty high tolerance. I really don't want to be drunk when I go talk to (Y/N) drunk. That will only make shit worse.

I knew I shouldn't have gave in to that one girl. Now (Y/N) is going to leave me. I love her so much. I fucked up big time, and I don't see a way out of it this time.

I hear a loud thump coming from upstairs. I run up the steps, feeling like something is wrong. Of course, I could just be on edge from the fight.

I pound on the bathroom door. "(Y/N)? You alright." No answer. I feel bile rise in my throat. Even if we're fighting, she'll let me know she's alright. "(Y/N) OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Still no answer. My heart speeds up. What the hell is wrong? I do the only thing I can think of since the door is locked. I kick it as hard as I can. The door flies open, revealing an unconscious (Y/N).

"Oh my God!" I yell, not sure what to do.

Call 911 dumb ass, My thoughts say.

I run to the phone we have in our room. I quickly dial the three numbers.

"911, what's your emergency?" The operator says calmly.

"M-My girlfriend is unconscious on the bathroom floor. I-I don't know what happened," I try to explain. My eyes stay locked on my almost dead looking girlfriend.

"What's your address, sir?"

I quickly gave her the address. "AND HURRY THE FUCK UP!"

"Sir, please try keep calm," The woman says. "Can you see if she maybe took something that made her pass out?"

I look at the counter, instantly finding the ecstasy I put in the aspirin bottle opened.

She took my ecstasy. That took a few moments to register in my head. SHE FUCKING OVERDOSED ON ECSTASY!

"S-She overdosed," I stutter.

Just then there's a knock at the front door. I look out the window and see the flashing red and blue lights. I hang up the phone.

I run down the stairs, throwing open the door. I lead the paramedics up to the bathroom where (Y/N) still lies.

I'm scared to touch her. I caused this. If I hadn't have gotten mad. If I hadn't have started yelling at her, she wouldn't have needed to take aspirin. I know she was crying hard enough to give herself a headache.

The paramedics take her out to the ambulance. I follow them in my car.

I don't even register what's going on around me, or even what I'm doing. My mind is on (Y/N). How lifeless she looked. Her beautiful (H/C) hair was tangled. Her skin looked so pale. Paler than normal.

Hours pass as I sit in the hospital waiting room. I'm guessing sometime during these hours I called the boys. Or maybe (Y/N) still has Nikki down as her emergency contact. They were best friends before we got together. Nikki wasn't happy with me there for a while, but once he saw how happy she is-was with me, he calmed down.

Nikki rubs my back, but I barely feel it. I feel numb. The woman I love is dying right now because of my stupidity.

At that thought, the tears start to fall. I don't bother to hold them back. What's the point? My love isn't beside me. I don't need to act strong.

I need her.

I feel Nikki, Vince, and Mick all surround me. They try to comfort me the best they can, but I don't even hear what they're saying.

"Family of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" A man in a doctor's uniform says.

I stand up with the boys behind me. They consider themselves her family. In a way, we're a weird little family. We've been through hell and back together.

"That's us," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Will she be alright?"

"She'll be fine," He says, smiling reassuringly. I nearly fall back into my chair from relief. "We were able to pump the drugs out of her system before it got too serious. She's still asleep, but she should wake up soon. You all can go in."

He bids us goodbye, then walks down the hallway. The four of us misfits walk into the small room. My heart falls at how helpless (Y/N) looks hooked up to those machines.

She still manages to look gorgeous, though.

Nikki pulls up a chair next to the bed. He grabs her hand. They dated a year before we got together. I'm not going to lie when I say I sometimes suspect they still have feelings for each other. . .then again you can't exactly let go of your first love, now can you? Especially when you stay best friends with them.

"What did she overdose on?" Nikki growls.

Oh fuck. I forgot to tell him. He's going to murder me.

"Ecstasy," I say, feeling ashamed. "It's all my fault. She was upset about our fight and gave herself a headache. I was keeping the ecstasy in an aspirin bottle." The tears are coming back. "I shouldn't have gotten so mad at her. This is all my goddamn fault."

Nikki stands up. His chest is heaving up and down. I deserve it if he kills me. I'll take it without a fight.

"YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT IT'S YOUR FAULT! HOW COULD YOU JUST KEEP THAT IN THE HOUSE WITHOUT TELLING HER WHAT BOTTLE IT'S IN?!"

"Alright, that's enough, buddy," Vince says, taking Nikki's arm.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, LEE!" Nikki yells as Vince and Mick drag him out of the room.

"We'll give you kids some time alone," Mick says, shutting the door behind him.

I sit down in the chair Nikki was just in. I grab her hand, rubbing the back of it.

"Baby, please come back to me," I whisper, fresh tears making an appearance. I haven't cried this much. Ever. "I want you so bad. I still need you. I love you so goddamn much. You're my everything, you know that? I'm sorry I'm such a twat. I'll love you better. I promise you that." I lean my head down and kiss the back of her hand.

"You better not fuck that promise up," (Y/N) says suddenly.

My head snaps up. My eyes are met with the most beautiful ones in the world.

"Oh, baby," I say, getting up and hugging her softly. "I'm so sorry, love. I didn't know you'd try to take those pills. I thought you only used the ones on your bedside table or else I would have told you."

She smiles the best she can, trying not to wince. I know her throat hurts. They probably stuck that tube down her throat to get the ecstasy out.

"I couldn't exactly go out of the bathroom, now could I?" She teases, her voice scratchy.

"I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head, cupping my cheek with her hand. "It's alright, Tom."

"No it's not. I shouldn't-."

I'm cut off by her pulling my head down to kiss my lips. I kiss her back, so happy to feel her against me. Alive and breathing. Not dead and gone like I thought she was not even thirty minutes before.

"It's okay, Thomas. If you want to make it up to me, show me how much you love me. Be loyal for once," She says. The hurt is evident in her eyes.

I caused that pain. I hurt the sweetest girl in the world. What the hell is wrong with me.

"I can do that," I say, kissing her again. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, asshole."

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Dirt!Tommy: @2dead2function @horrorpxnk