#like don’t call me a snot bro I’ll call you a shit head and now we arguing at 10 o clock in the morning like you ain’t just make me break-

[dismas-n-dismay]

No one talk to me I just realized that if I wanna bond w/get to know David I have to watch his earlier audios and I’m devastated because unlike Angel I Would have beaten the shit out of that man

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ ITOSHI RIN ; — he promised he would never make you sad. even new promises can be born out of broken ones.

࿄ ! warnings — gn!reader except for the usage of ‘girl’, angst & lots of comfort. sfw! / note. my first time writing for rin so go easy on me :,} he makes my heart so warm. enjoy lovies <3

arguments with rin were akin to a battlefield. it hurts more than anything when he spits venom in your face, relaying words that should never be said by a man to his woman.

perhaps it’s the fact that you know him so deeply that reassures a hopeful part of you - a part of you that loves the dark, teal-hued haired man. it’s so tumultuous the way rin can go from zero to a hundred in seconds and suddenly, you’re walking on egg shells around him.

this time though, he knows for certain he’s fucked up. he can see it in the way fat tears run down the softness of your pink cheeks, and in the way that you relinquish all your weaponry, baring only a white flag and your soul:

“you’re right, rin. what do i know?”

it’s been a day and half and rin feels like hot garbage. he’s taking advantage of every half time to see if you’d message him first and his fingers always hover and twitch over the keyboard before the screen inevitably turns dark at his lack of activity and all he can see is his own tired and regretful face staring right back at him.

it was always you who'd reach out and, while he would seldom admit this to anyone, you were a constant in his life, the one person who understood him better than even himself. and now, he could feel you slipping out of his grasp, feeling a sense of despair creeping in.

he’s moving like he’s on auto pilot for the tedious remainder of his practice and he’s realised that you both haven’t gone this long without speaking in a long while and it sucks. why wouldn’t you understand that he’s a working man? he - you both knew that this was complicated. he was a professional footballer now - on the precipice of surpassing his older brother, and could you truly understand all the pressures and expectations that came with it?

rin doesn’t even know the answer to that anymore. though, what he does know is that he’s treated a good girl bad. and he’d be damned if he let his inferiority get in the way of loving you like you deserve.

“rin? you good, bro? you look like shit.” says isagi and rin scoffs before grabbing the black haired man by his shirt and pulling him close.

“what the fu-?!”

“tell coach i’ll be right back. something’s come up.”

rin speeds out the building before anyone can protest, taking nothing but his desire for you. he just hopes he gets there on time.

but it’s not like you’re doing anything particularly profound yourself. having called sick from university for a second day in the row, you’re eating leftover curry from the nights before... the nights when you and rin were cuddled up and you were spoon feeding him this exact meal.

you couldn’t stop the tears from dribbling down your face and right into your bowl. you hate that idiot. you hate that your heart beats for him and him only, even though he makes you feel like this on the bad days.

‘but there shouldn’t be any bad days,’ you think and the wrists of your sweater mop up any salty tears and snot from your face.

you can’t help but wonder if this was a sign from the universe - if you were destined to go your separate ways, to become nothing more than distant memories of a simpler time, a time in which rin would’ve ate glass if it meant he’d never see you cry again.

“you don’t have to do that, idiot,” you giggle, “though it would be a good punishment. are you manifesting that for yourself?”

rin shakes his head that’s kneading against your bare tummy, your t-shirt having been ridden up so he could press his cheek against the warm skin of your belly.

“just shut up… i would do a lot of things so that you’d never cry,” he grumbles cutely, ears red and you run your fingers through his hair as he lets out a puff of air.

“i’ll hold you to that, rinnie.”

three hard knocks against your front door throws you out of your reminiscing and you quickly wipe and pat at your face as hard as you can to brush away any remnants of a sadness-fuelled crying session before padding away to open at the door.

“hi - oh.”

you don’t know why you’re so surprised to see him but to see him like this? all sweated up, out of breath and pink in the face were all symptoms that were reserved for his football practice. the rin you knew would never sacrifice his prime training hours just to see you-

“just give me a minute. you - you don’t have to let me in. but i just wanted to say i love you, y/n. and you deserve better than - than, i don’t even want to say it,” rambles rin, who’s short of breath and he doesn’t know if it’s from running all the way over to see you or if it’s from trying not to get distracted by how devastatingly gorgeous you look, even when he’s the reason for your heartbreak. you’re wearing the sweater that he got you and your eyes are all doe-eyed and glassy and your plump lips are pursed together.

“but i’ll say it anyway because it needs to come from me. you deserve better than me. and i’ll still want you regardless, even though i don’t deserve you. and i’m sorry. i’d still eat glass even if you want me to but it still wouldn’t be enough. i’m sorry.”

rin exhales loudly and closes his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on your face but all it does it prevent the anticipation of seeing your arms fly over his waist.

“you’re such an idiot, rin,” you sob, face stuffed in his jersey and he all but wraps two strong arms around and rests his face into your hair, wanting - needing to be engulfed by everything that you are.

“i still hate you for making me sad,” you say, all muffled and sniffly and he breathes out a little harshly at that, wincing but he knows he deserves more than a few pointed words from you.

“i hate myself for making you sad,” he murmurs and you sniffle even more.

“you should definitely eat glass after this,” you mumble and rin presses his lips into the crown of your head and hums.

“as long as it’s made by you.”

“shut up… you should, sniff, go back to practice,” you whisper after pulling your face from the comfort of your boyfriend’s warm and toned body.

“you’re sure you don’t want me to stay?” rin frowns and for the first time in almost three days does he see a beautiful grin take up your face and he has to stop himself crumbling into the floor while you nod fervently.

“seriously, you should go. i don’t want to be the reason why bachira and isagi start going off on you,” you giggle and rin’s lips upturn slightly and he lets out a half chuckle.

“yeah, you’re right. but i won’t be too long so… wait for me?”

“…ok,” you bite your bottom lip and rin holds back the dire urge to kiss you but given the circumstances, he decides not to overstep, already elated that you still want him in spite of his behaviour.

he nods again and goes to leave the vestibule of your home when you pull his arm back.

the dark haired man turns to look at you in confusion, “what-” but he is merely interrupted by your hands that grab at his neck and the push of your lips onto his own.

the way rin kisses back in reciprocity is almost instantaneous and too wild for you to keep up as his hands splay themselves across the small of your back to your waist. your mouth tastes like a faint hue of katsu curry and even so, rin can’t help but slot his lips over yours. you eventually throw your arms around his neck to get impossibly closer to the man and even though he’s smells vaguely sweaty, you can’t help but be addicted to the scent anyway. especially when he holds you like he can’t get enough of you and it makes a fire rumble in the pits of your belly.

“i don’t hate you by the way,” you say when you break apart the kiss to whisper on his lips and he hums, all placant and appeased from being in your arms.

“i know,” and rin leans down to kiss at you one last time and you push him away playfully.

“you should definitely go now. they’re gonna be on you when you come back,” you twinkle and rin can’t help but mirror the soft expression that sits on your face.

“i’ll see you later, y/n,” he nods, taking your knuckles to his mouth, and the action makes you roll your eyes and he smirks this time around.

“okay, okay, i’m gone.”

when you finally get to shut the door behind you, you saunter off to the couch to see a notification light up your phone.

rinnie <3: on my way back. i love you.

a salty droplet hits your phone screen but this time, it’s not a cause of sadness; more so, a cause of adoration for the idiot. your idiot.

you: i love you too, rinnie :) have a good rest of your practice!

the striker has missed approximately 30 minutes of practice by the time he languidly strolls through to the pitch and multiple sharp eyes land on him - despite his attempt at blending in to make it seem like he never left.

to say that the guys on the team lambasted him would be an understatement. rin makes a mental promise to never induce sadness in you again, lest he face the wrath of his annoying teammates. though he doesn’t really care what those idiots think.

he’d run out of a million more games if it meant he needed to make things right with you.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[bisexual-yuri]

“Can’t you tell?”

Busdriverr gets credits for songs he ain’t on

And here’s another one 

I wanna meet LA’s native son 

Pentecost, bitches, LA bus driver’s got bitches 

Can’t Messais tell I won’t say it 

Record it, I’ll deny it 

That shit never left my mouth 

Revolve it

Solve it 

Sit the fuck down, clown 

You and me, you legit now 

Sara can’t spell

Reagan, really? 

Ali

Wants to join hell fire club, no city 

Cats fucking in the back alley 

Yowling, screaming, towely 

Ryan was his name, water polo Ricky 

Who gave Scott his hickeys?

It’s a killer deep cut from her Binghamton days

She got degrees and dogs that was strays 

Demon days, gorillaz fans fundamentally 

Logan and Elliott, exes perpetually

Remember me

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

White girl, did you heard? Crazy 

Show all signs of blender brain 

ECMC psych ward vet, she clinically insane 

Jacket girlie, Tom Brady, 11 + 12 

Hell Fyre, Los Angeles, homie 

Maybe finally Brooklyn was the first place she moved 

She’s the one who does what behooves her

Everyone scrambles to claim her

Nobody can tame her 

Her name is Allison dot FYRE

Buffalo Baby

Seven one sixty 

Misty 

Water Pokemon training

Lucky lucky licky

Mathy

Talented lady 

Pretty baby 

Kids, if you want to piss off your parents

Show interest in imaginary places

Invest in real estate in art time 

Tell your mother that you’re fine when you’re not

Run the snot 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

White girl, did you heard? Crazy 

Show all signs of blender brain 

ECMC psych ward vet, she clinically insane 

Chris went to Auto, what does that even MEAN

She had mono once, almost ruptured her spleen

Rugby player in dresses, Chris, you’re just preening

Ali has a huge crush on you and you’re dreaming

You heard her screaming

Ran away, reported her, you’re reaming her out in the office

Snitching to Santos

Sorry Chris Chris, you’ll always be haunted by this ghost

Of what might have been

If you had trusted, showed better to love to your friend 

It’s the end of you and me and maybe your career

Sara’s headed to Seattle, it’s all your fault I fear 

She stood up for herself and you bit at her rear 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

She can back that shit up 

Fundamentally 

Upstate Macy’s, rob sonic pep rally 

References sadly 

She’s in love, madly

Two, maybe three Rafaels 

It’s a malady 

R names, at least she’s over Ricardo now 

Tragedy 

He got jokes folks, some bitch named Ortiz 

BUSDRIVER be friends with Ian and Mikey 

Yikes-y! 

I gotta get my own posse 

Hell fire, Aly’s on fire wait wasn’t it Ali with i latín?

Latina, honra la familia 

Trilingual cunt

Wait, ain’t she poly? 

Glot, she gotta talented tongue 

Free for the year

Mung

Bean girl 

Hehe beans 

What does she MEAN? 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

She can back that shit up 

Fundamentally 

References sadly 

She’s in love, madly

It’s a malady 

Young

Black men love her

Claim her, want to tame her 

In Delaware park, Chris and M man 

Guitar player shit, like hot damn 

Suckin’ dick and having small hands 

Rafael from Disco Elysium, Harrier 

Funny, I got that tattoo 

I’m not no fuckin Boston Terrier 

Not from New England, bitch 

I’m no Masshole 

Calling Nate Pinkham, asshole 

Carousel & Windmills, Nick Foles 

Tyler bass kicks a mean field goal 

NFL References again 

He aint even like football like that 

He? That’s Ali, she’s all that 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

She can back that shit up at the drop of a hat 

What, Ali’s a massive fan! 

She’s always got ten backup plans! 

Bro, her name’s Sae Ra, she’s no man 

Not a girl bro, Ali’s just Billscord’s biggest ho 

Chris just doesn’t know when to say no 

Moderator Rizz, love her, poor pages 

She’s a magic user, really, mages 

Wedding bells, Discord van 

Cro-magnon man, don’t be a fan

She ain’t like that man, you just ain’t know her man 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

She can back that shit up 

Ali’s a teacher, no preacher, ban 

Hammer swinger and detective 

She’s a momma bear, real protective 

Jonathan fucked her young, she’s reactive

You prey on her babies, she’ll cut a shiv 

Shank you in jail bitch, Ali ain’t play

You gotta watch what you say 

Ali wants to join the hell fyre club 

She can back that shit up 

Shell bottom from the power

Rachel’s guilty, she feels filthy

Jonathan turned her against me

Maybe those two will finally just fess up and get married

They picked each other over me 

Bye buddy, that ain’t family 

You just look for exquitie ways to hurt me and I’m sick of it 

I ain’t gotta take this shit 

I’m leaving you behind and I won’t look back

You sure love to talk smack for a jewish guy from Brooklyn 

You’re not Bernie bitch, listen 

You have met me, you know me 

New phase in life, most likely

Big name change, I go by Ali 

Writer flighty, not likely 

Never leaving, Troglodyte wins 

Sara’s a dolphin

She sings with no phins 

Jack’s got his tins

Used to sell knives but never atoned for his sins 

Hello Mu from the ether 

IDK how I never met you before

Sorry I got called whore 

Being a girl’s a snore 

Ian loves you man 

He a rapper and more for you man 

Camu Tao, don’t be blue

RIP Mu 

[adamarks]

For the ask game, uh... the entirety of boys will be bugs? 😂

Hello anon!! What a depressing fic to ask for dvd commentary on jgrhrhshshsj

Read the non-annotated version of this fic here on ao3!

It’s two in the morning and I’m crying over a toaster.

This fic was literally just me being fuckin sad. Like it’s just me being an angsty bitch. Comments that I’ve gotten calling it in character baffle me bc I’m like bitch this is very poorly disguised. I wouldn’t call this baby my magnum opus.

Not as in the toaster made me cry. As in I’m crying and watching tear drops hit the toaster as I wait for my bread toast.

Lol mood.

I try not to cry as much anymore.

PSA everyone: crying is a good thing. Dont restrict urselves.

Doesn’t really work. Now I just cry when I’m alone so I don’t have to bug them.

Lol get it? Bug.

I say “them.”

Woof.

Baz has pretty much given up on talking to me anymore. All I get are sad looks that make me feel like garbage.

Such drama.

Are we even still dating? I don’t fucking know. Probably not.

😬😬😬😬😬😬

I choke down a sob.

Someday I’ll write a songfic thats not excruciatingly depressing. Someday.

I mean, it’s my fault, isn’t it? I pushed him away. And I wasn’t good enough.

Jesus Christ what kind of sad shot was I on when I wrote this.

I hug my arms tight. Keep myself together.

I’m falling apart.

Who am I kidding? I’m already in pieces.

Bro wtf. I haven’t read this in forever. Wtf was I up to. Y am I so sad.

The toast pops up and a tear lands on one slice.

Oh god soggy toast. The real horror in this fic.

I take it out and start piling pats of butter onto a piece. I keep piling until I can’t see any bread from under all the butter. I lift my shoulder and wipe a cheek before I smoosh the other piece on top.

Ive done this exact paragraph verbatim. Write what u know.

Butter sandwich.

These are actually delicious. The butter stays half cold. Yum.

Tadah.

Tadah~

I sit on the floor and rub my sleeve across my nose. I take a bite.

When u be having those days bad enough to live in snot sleeves

The bread is warm. The butter is starting to melt. It’s cold in the middle. I’d be in heaven if I weren’t having a mental breakdown.

They’re DELICIOUS. Also this paragraph is the biggest ADHD mood I’ve ever written.

I slowly scoot so I can lie down while I eat. I stare at the ceiling as tears drip into my ears.

That shit is always so annoying. It like tickles.

I feel like shit. I feel like shit. I feel like shit.

I am shit.

Simon ):

I sob and almost choke on a hunk of sandwich. Eating and crying is dangerous.

Facts only

Something flickers in my periphery and I turn my head to look at the little light above the sink. A moth keeps flitting around the bulb.

A FRIEND

My wings are shoved uncomfortably behind my back. Fucking things. I shift them a bit.

Me and my like 2 canon compliant fics. I just love aus so bad.

Guess Mr. Moth up there can’t lie on his back either. Nor was he born with wings.

I hate this line. Don’t ask me why

He probably doesn’t resent his. Made his life easier.

This line annoys me but it’s ok

Well, now he wastes his time trying to jab himself into the light. So maybe it’s not that much easier.

This fic is what happens when you listen to a song about bugs and teenage angst one too many times. I’m not a teenager I don’t have teenage angst anymore. Wtf

My tears have stopped flowing, but my cheeks are still wet. I keep watching the moth.

Hhhh

My throat is sore. My eyes feel tired.

Ya

I name the moth Humphrey.

Wow what a fuckin great name. My and Simon’s brains..... so powerful......

It’s three a.m. when I go back to bed.

I really like my penchant for writing one shots with utterly unsatisfying endings. Life rarely has satisfying wrap ups my dude.

[john-wickening]

Worn Down

AN: OKAY! We’re back! I originally wrote this fic last night when I was having a bad depression day. So you can only imagine how I felt when Tumblr.hell decided completely delete my only copy... Bro I was straight up pissed. But fear not! I rewrote this from memory in like two hours (while feeling better today, hurray!), and I actually think it came out better the second time! (so SUCK IT, Tumblr/my depression!)

So here it is, new and improved. 

Prompt: The reader has a depressive episode. John and his dog try to help.

Tw: depression, implied suicidal ideation

Word Count: 1814

I hadn’t realized I had sighed until the dog lifted his head to look at me.

I patted him on the head reassuringly. Didn’t want him to worry. He rested his head back down onto my thigh though his big eyes continued to look up at me. I smiled but it felt hollow.

Everything I did these days felt hollow.

I pressed my face back into the pillow and breathed in deeply. It still smelled faintly of detergent, but mostly it smelled musty. I had slept a lot in the last few days and yet I was still tired. My body felt wrong somehow, like the sleep didn’t really count. I had woken up hours ago but I couldn’t even muster up the energy to get out of bed.

I knew John would be home in a few hours and I should get dinner ready and the house tidied up, but I just couldn’t. He had texted me twice asking me how my day was going, but I couldn’t answer him. I was letting him down, I didn’t want to lie to him too.

How could I tell him that I felt so miserable, so numb, after all the sacrifices he made for me? For us?

I didn’t want to worry him either, but that required me getting out of bed and I was literally incapable of it at the moment.

I was utterly a wretched partner. I don’t deserve any of this.

I was tucked up in the bed I shared with the man who loved me, a man who understood me better than anyone else in my entire life. Our house was gorgeous. The life John and I built together, while complicated, was lovely. To top it all off, I had the sweetest, most loving little dog curled up by my side.

The fact that I could look down at his little face and still feel this way is how I knew I didn’t deserve any of it. What kind of ungrateful monster could feel anything but joy right now? How could I be so ungrateful, so lazy, so unsupportive of the people who love me?

When Meatball noticed I was staring, he perked up and his tail started wagging lazily. His big puppy dog eyes stared curiously at me.

I had no idea why, but that’s what pushed me over the edge. The damn dog.

When you’re miserable, your tears are hotter than normal. Why is that? What makes them so hot? Is it the pain?

The tears felt like molten lead as they seared paths down my cheeks. My eyes stung. Meatball crawled into my lap and licked at them as they fell down my chin. I wanted to push him away, but couldn’t find the strength, so I wrapped my arms around him and let it all go.

I cried like a child. My sobs echoed through the empty house. I thought of John and everything he had done for me, the sacrifices he had made. How perfect everything was and how much of a horrible person I was for feeling this way.

I didn’t deserve him.

After some time, Meatball started whining and I let him go, but he wouldn’t move away. I pushed him out of my lap, but he remained firmly by my side.

I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep going like this.

I threw my head back into the pillows and cried myself to sleep.

 -*-*-*-*-*

 I wasn’t sure what woke me, but I found myself drifting groggily back into consciousness. The sun shone behind the trees and I wracked my cotton-wool brain to try to remember whether it was supposed to be setting or rising.

I felt the bed next to me shift and I turned my head to look at Meatball.

He was staring intently at the ajar bedroom door, his tail stock still. I wondered what he was hearing— then I heard the car door close.

John was home. Shit.

Nothing was done. Dinner wasn’t made, the dishes from yesterday still sat unwashed in the sink, and the house was a mess. I hadn’t showered in two days and my mouth tasted foul.

I had let him down again. I had ruined everything.

The door to the garage opened and my heart sunk into my stomach. My name fell from his lips as he entered the house.

I felt my eyes start to sting again as I laid back down. My face felt tight and swollen and my eyes felt watery and puffy. I knew the second he looked at me, he would know I’d been crying.

I couldn’t face him. I was too much of a coward. Breaking down in front of the dog was bad enough, but losing it in front of John was a nightmare. I had no right to have him worry over me. I wasn’t worth it. I flipped over and buried my face into the pillow. 

He called my name again and Meatball barked from his spot next to me. Belatedly, I realized with surprise that the dog had not run to greet John and instead had stayed rooted by my side.

That confused me.

John said my name a third time and gently opened the bedroom door.

I had been with John long enough to know that pretending to be asleep was stupid. He always knew when I was awake.

“Hi, John,” I mumbled into the pillow. I heard him cross the room and the mattress sank with his weight as he sat beside me. He placed his large hand on my back.

“Sorry dinner isn’t done.” I mumbled, my guilt eating me alive. “And the dishes are dirty. And the house is a mess.  I just… couldn’t.”

All I could think was I am a terrible partner.

 His warm hand traced my spine

“That’s alright,” He said as he traced some unknown pattern into the shirt I wore—his shirt.

“I can make dinner tonight,” It was absolutely the wrong thing to say to me. My guilt quadrupled.

“You’ve had such a long day and I was too lazy to do anything. I’m so sorry, John,” my voice was full of water by the end of the sentence. I can’t believe I’d let him down like this. A beat passed and I held my breath.

I realized I didn’t know what I wanted from him— his disappointment or his silence.

He heaved a deep sigh and removed his hand from my back. My heart twisted in a sickening, painful glee. Maybe he had finally realized that I was too fucked up to deal with and was going to leave.

You don’t deserve him, a voice in my head kept repeating.

His shoes came off with a thunk, followed by the clatter of his gun as he set it on the dresser. Then came his tie, and his belt.

The bed next to me sank with his weight as he got in. Meatball huffed when John moved him aside, but relented.

I stiffened involuntarily as he reached out and pulled me against his chest.

Why was he still here? How was he not absolutely disgusted with me?

Once I was nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss into my tangled hair. “I love you,” he murmured against my temple and it absolutely broke my heart.

The dam crumbled.

I completely broke down. I clung to the front of his shirt and cried like a child. He was muttering something into my hair, but the blood rushing in my ears and the sound of his heartbeat under my cheek drowned it out.

We stayed like that for a long time, long enough for the room to get dark. Eventually, I just ran out of tears. We laid there for a little longer as I tried to reconcile how empty I felt.

As I pulled away slightly, I realized with horror that the front of his very expensive shirt was coated in my tears and snot. A zip of guilt shot through me.

“I’m so sorry about your shirt,” I croaked out as I wiped my eyes. His calloused hand reached up and cupped my cheek. His thumb swiped away an errant tear.

“This is the least disgusting thing on it, probably,” he deadpanned and I couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped my lips. He met my eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips.

“Have you eaten today?” He asked when he pulled away. I couldn’t get my throat to work so I shook my head.

“I’ll make dinner.” His voice was soft but firm. “Come with me. You can rest on the couch while I cook.”

I was too tired and worn down to argue with him, so I nodded.

He got up. I sat up to follow him out of the room but was shocked when he stooped down and picked me up. He was actually going to carry me to the couch?

I was possibly the worst, least supportive partner in the entire world, and he was treating me like this anyway? It didn’t make any sense.

“John—,” I started to ask, but the words died in my throat when his deep brown eyes met mine. A strand of his hair had fallen into his face and was just barely skimming a fresh cut. Dark shadows rimmed his eyes and a faint bruise was just starting to blossom at his temple. Despite his clear exhaustion, his eyes were infinitely warm and clear and fixated on my own. I felt like I was looking at the sunset for the first time. He was absolutely breathtaking.

The corners of his lips quirked at what must have been my dumbstruck expression.

“Yes?” He asked. I suddenly felt ashamed at what I was about to say. My eyes dropped to his chest.

“I’m sorry I’m like this.” He frowned at me.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” I didn’t quite believe him, but I did feel a little bit lighter anyways.

“You don’t… have to put up with this. You don’t deserve this.” I mumbled into his chest as I worried at the top buttons of his shirt.

He shushed me and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

When we reached the living room, he gently lowered me to the couch. He grabbed my favorite blanket and draped it over my legs.

He knelt down beside the couch and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back.

“We’re going to get through this.” He said, and pressed a kiss to my hand. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

I still felt hollow, but I believed him. If he could make this effort, maybe there was something to hope for.

“I love you, John” I said simply. His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I love you too.”

[ghostofviperwrites]

Suzuki Gunz Crime Family - Chapter 10

Word Count: 2046

Warnings:  Mentions of violence, language

February 23, 2003

Despite Taichi’s attempts, Minoru didn’t stay in his room for long, unable to sleep while his friend lay wounded.  He was exhausted but sleep could wait.  He needed to be at Iizuka’s side.   When he pushed open the door to Iizuka’s room a small smile lifted his lips as he saw Kanemaru slouched against the wall, eyelids drooping but intensely focused on the still figure in the bed.  

“Join the fucking party.”  Taichi snapped glaring at Minoru as he took up residence next to Kanemaru.  “You assholes don’t listen for shit.” 

“I’ll sleep when he wakes up and I see he’s fine for myself.”  Kanemaru grumbled.  “I don’t give a shit what the doc says.  I need to see he’s okay.” 

Silence descended over the room hanging like a heavy cloud over the four original members of the Suzuki Guns.  Minoru leaned his head back against the wall his attention focused on the rise and fall of Iizuka’s chest trying to keep his emotions at bay.  He needed to be strong for the rest of the family.  This was the first major injury to anyone of the kobun and he knew it was effecting them all.  He would bet his last dollar if he made a tour of the guest rooms he would find restless bodies.  Taka was texting him every ten minutes asking if Iizuka had woken yet. 

Worried about his youngest family member, not wanting him in the streets if he was distracted, Minoru had told him to come home only to be sharply rebuffed.  Taka was insistent he was going to find the information needed and fast so this problem could be nipped in the bud. 

Cold hard glass pressed into his forearm causing Minoru to look down seeing Kanemaru’s whisky being offered to him.  With a grateful smile Minoru grabbed the bottle and took a long swig, the fire burning down his throat bringing a welcome respite from the thoughts swirling through his mind.  Taking another long pull before absentmindedly handing the bottle back to Kanemaru, Minoru rose to a standing position, leaning against the wall acutely aware that Taichi was monitoring his every move.

“You don’t have to baby me Tai.”  Minoru groused.  “I don’t need to be watched over.” 

“Somebody has to,” Taichi scoffed.  “You idiots certainly aren’t going to take care of yourselves.” 

Minoru glared at him ready launch into one of their patented arguments that meant nothing more than a release of stress when things got rough.  Instead a soft groan from the bed captured all their attention. 

“I get fucking shot and you morons are still arguing like little girls.”  Iizuka’s raspy voice chastised them, Kanemaru pushing to his feet and rushing to the bedside as Minoru and Taichi gathered on the other side. 

“How you feeling?” Taichi asked running his worried gaze over Iizuka’s pale form.

“Like I got fucking shot.”  Iizuka replied groaning again as he shifted and pain raced through his body.   Kanemaru grabbed the bottle of pain medication the doctor had left and got the dose together for Iizuka handing them to Iizuka and offering his booze to wash it down.

“Jesus Nobu, he can’t have whisky.” Minoru said pushing the bottle back from Iizuka’s eagerly grabbing hands.  Instead he got a bottle of water, Minoru ignoring Iizuka’s insistence that whisky would actually make him feel better.  

Taichi set about changing Iizuka��s bandages and cleaning the wound, ignoring Iizuka’s complaints as he was bandaged.  It was a little known fact outside the family, but Taichi was actually in the finishing stages of getting his doctorate having discovered a passion for medicine and was excelling at his studies.  He was a natural and as soon as he felt comfortable he would be replacing Dr. Yamato for the family’s medical needs.  Something no one would expect from a snot nosed kid with attitude for days. 

“How’s it looking Tai?” Minoru asked as Taichi finished covering Iizuka’s wound.

“So far so good.” He said with a shrug.  “I don’t see anything too troublesome.  I’ll keep an eye out for infection and he needs to take it easy for a few days, but other than that I think he’s out of dangerous waters.” 

They could practically feel the tension draining from the room at Taichi proclamation.  It held more weight to them coming from Taichi than an outsider like Dr. Yamato. 

“Nobu, do you mind letting everyone know Iizuka has woken up and seems to be doing well.  I don’t want anyone else coming by tonight, he needs his sleep.  Taichi and I will watch over him.”  Minoru asked. 

“No problem.”  Kanemaru said leaning over to say goodbye to Iizuka, his hand squeezing the older man’s shoulder before he made his exit.  “Get some sleep big guy.” 

February 26, 2003

The past few days had been quite, the kobun keeping to Minoru’s home as they talked strategy and made plans for the war Chaos seemed intent on launching.  The only one out and in the streets was Taka who nobody had seen since the night Iizuka had gotten shot.  Minoru would have been worried if not for Taka checking in regularly with either him or Kanemaru. 

Taka assured them that he was close to obtaining the name of a source for guns and Minoru hoped it was true.  His boys were getting antsy being cooped up, particularly Lance and Davey who did not handle being off the streets well.  Unfortunately waiting on Taka meant no action and flaring tempers as boredom turned to needling turned to fighting, which lead to them taking a few rounds against each other in the boxing ring down in Minoru’s gym. 

They had just come upstairs from one of those bouts, laughing and joking as they gathered around for lunch, Zack sporting a bloody nose courtesy of Lance and the latter a fat lip.  Iizuka was on the road to recovery and anxious for revenge, but Minoru was having to put a leash on that as Taichi said he would need a few months of recovery before he was 100%.  Iizuka wasn’t taking the news well that he was on the shelf for at least a couple of weeks before Minoru would let him take on some light duties that didn’t involve anything physical. 

“Baka Taka!” Lance yelled being the first to see Taka slinking into the room from down stairs.  “You look like shit little bro!”

“Fuck you Lance.”  Taka sneered flopping down in a chair and greedily reaching for food.  Minoru frowned as he took in Taka’s appearance.  Lance wasn’t wrong, he looked like shit.  The 22 year old looked drawn and tired with heavy bags under his eyes, patchy hair on his unshaven face, wearing the same clothes he had left in four days ago and looking like he had lost a few pounds.  It brought up bad memories for Minoru, reminding him of the day he had first stumbled across Taka.

“Taka.”  Minoru said his voice taking on the stern fatherly tone he rarely used. 

“Yes boss?” Taka looked up guiltily knowing what was coming.

“When’s the last time you slept?  Or ate? Or bathed?” Minoru threw rapid fire questions making the young man squirm. 

“Well, I’m eating right now,” Taka said trying to evade the questions. 

“Taka,” There was no mistaking the warning in Minoru’s voice this time and Taka’s shoulders slumped as he met Minoru’s disappointed gaze. 

“The night Iizuka got shot.”  Taka admitted.  “I’m sorry.  I just wanted to find everything I could as quickly as possible.  A few days without food or sleep isn’t going to kill me.  A gunshot could kill any one of us.” 

Minoru sighed heavily his frustration evident with the stubborn young man. 

“I know you want to help Taka.  We appreciate that.  Every one of us.”  Minoru said pointedly.  “But you’ve got to take care of yourself.  Do you know what it would do to this family if you were killed out there?” 

“I’m sorry.”  Taka repeated lowering his head.  “I just wanted to help.” 

“You’re forgiven.  I want you to eat, clean yourself up and sleep.”  Minoru directed. 

“You don’t want to know what I learned?” Taka asked crestfallen his sad eyes in full effect as he directed them towards Minoru. 

“After you take care of yourself.”  Minoru said firmly.  “We can wait a few more hours.”

The meal continued in relative quiet, whispered conversations around the table as they all tried to respect Minoru’s wishes while being anxious to hear what Taka had learned. 

It wasn’t until several hours later that the group reconvened this time in the underground office.  Taka was the last to stumble in the room, a little bleary eyed, but looking much better in clean clothes and freshly shaved face.   He still looked too gaunt for Minoru’s liking and he made note to have his chef make extra food for Taka until he filled back out. 

“Alright Taka, you’ve the floor. Fill us in.” Minoru said the room falling quiet as Taka became the center of attention.

“First and most importantly, Chaos does not have guns.”  Taka told them.  “I was able to listen in on one of the family meetings and confirm this information through other channels.  However, they are trying to find the source but they are coming up empty and getting frustrated.”

“But you have information on the source?”  Taichi asked.

“Of course I do.”  Taka said offended Taichi was doubting him.  “I wouldn’t have returned if I didn’t.” 

Taichi held his hands up apologetically and leaned back in his chair gesturing for Taka to continue.

“They’re coming in from the US.  The source is very cautious and very good at what they do. I’ve got a phone number, but my understanding is they don’t deal with just anybody.  That’s why Japan isn’t overflowing with guns, because they don’t want to bring too much attention to themselves.  They don’t sell to the highest bidder and they don’t just deal with anyone.”  Taka pulled out the scrap of paper where he had written the number and passed it along to Minoru.  “That number is not traceable.  It shoots you all over the world and back again before touching base.  I wasn’t able to crack it.”  Taka looked disappointed in himself hating even a small failure like this. 

“It’s at least 8am in the states, depending where this person is.”  Zack said looking at the clock.  “Is that too early to call.” 

“I don’t think so.  We’re going to call anyways.”  Minoru decided.  Desperado slid the conference phone towards Minoru who dialed the number on the paper slip putting the phone on speaker.  The ring was loud in the silence, ringing several times with no response.  It was only as Minoru was reaching to disconnect the call that it was answered. 

“What?”  An irritated feminine voice floated out the speaker making the Guns look around at each other with wide eyes.  Even Taka had no inkling that number would lead to a woman.

“It’s my understanding you’re an arms dealer?”  Minoru said cautiously after a moment.

“I’m a lot of things.  Who is this and how did you get this number?”  She responded. 

“My name is Minoru Suzuki.  And as for how we got your number, well, we have our ways.”  Minoru said. 

“Suzuki?  You in Japan?”  She asked recognizing the name.

“Yes.”  Minoru confirmed.

“I only deal with one group in Japan.  You want guns you’ve got to go through them.”  She said. 

“I’ll pay you very well for your services.  I’m sure it takes a cut out of your pocket to use a middle man.”  Minoru told her. 

“I don’t give a shit about your money.  You want guns?   You go through Los Ingobernables.”  With that she disconnected the phone leaving them with a blaring busy signal as they looked at one another.

“Who the fuck are Los Ingobernables?”  Davey asked incredulously. 

[this-is-freeridge]

The Air Between Us

Chapter Ten: Mari spends some time with Trey.

Warning: this fic deals with dark themes, including but not limited to teen pregnancy, rape, drug abuse, murder, abortion, underage drinking and underage sex. Read at your own risk.

Find all chapters here

Note: Hey guys! I know it’s been a while and this is a short update, but I have actually revised this entire story over here on Wattpad! I put a lot of work into editing it in a short time so I just needed a break to rejuvenate my inspiration and motivation. It’d mean a lot if you could all go have a read on Wattpad! :)

Geny cried as she watched Mario drive away. The whole time they were loading boxes into Mario’s car she had been holding back tears but it wasn’t until he was driving away and halfway down the street that the tears had really started. Ruben wasn’t crying, though he looked like he was about to. He was holding Geny tight, grounding her and reminding her that everything would be okay. Reminding the both of them that Mario wasn’t gone forever.

Mari smiled when she looked at them. She had never seen two people so in love and she wanted to have that one day more than anything. Someone who made her feel loved and safe and wanted, something her mother never let her feel. Maybe it was stupid to be so young and want something so permanent, but she didn’t mind being a little stupid. If only she could stop convincing herself she could have that with the one person she wanted.

The twins had hugged Mario’s legs and Mari noticed that’s what almost broke Mario’s carefree facade as his eyes brimmed with tears. He blinked them back, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and then crouched to their level to hug them each one-by-one. He then told them to “scamper, brats,” and they did, but not before they gifted him with a tissue full of their snot. A sweet gesture, Mario thought, but that didn’t stop him gagging and chucking it the moment they were out of sight.

Ruby had just said “later, bro,” and then called Jamal to come and check out his new room before heading to orientation.

Abuelita, never much for unnecessary words, only gave him a hug. At least, that’s all the Martinez family saw. According to a text that Mario had sent Mari later that day, Abuelita had also asked that he bring her back “some of that good weed,”.

Mari didn’t cry. She felt guilty because she was sad he was leaving, and, had he treated her from the start how he did yesterday, she may have been devastated right now. She loved Mario and they seemed to get along well; he could’ve been her best friend and closest confidant had he not decided to speak to her only a day before he left. Maybe she could’ve felt better by now, had less in her mind to deal with, had someone to talk out this Spooky shit with. That was no fault to Mario, by any means - Mari understood his feelings toward her and she was just happy they moved past them. Still, it kinda sucked that the person she had felt most comfortable with, in this entire family, was now gone.

Once Mario was out of sight they went back into the house. Mari made work on the dishes from breakfast so Geny didn’t have to, Jamal arrived with a wave and a “hey, Mari,” before proceeding to Ruby’s room (where they both squealed like little girls and were not subtle about jumping on the bed) and Ruben said he needed to get to work. But then, he stopped in his tracks and he cried.

Mari set the dishes aside, wiped her hands on a small towel and brought him into her arms without a second thought. Her smaller frame and spindly arms probably didn’t provide much comfort but it was everything she had to offer, and she would give it to him. More than once she had seen Ruben staying strong when he looked like he would crumble. Now that he was, Mari wanted him to know that it was okay, that he had support even if it was in the form of an eighteen-year-old girl.

With a sniffle, he smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you, mija,” he said and then stepped out of the embrace with a shaky exhale, “I am going to be late for work if I don’t leave now. Be good today, I love you,”

The statement made Mari’s chest warm every time she heard it. Her mother never told her she was loved - in fact, had told her the opposite to the point that Mari was sure it was true.

Mari had just finished up the dishes and started to get herself ready to head to the store when the front door opened and a dark-skinned girl with unruly brown curls walked in as though the house was her own. Mari froze and awkwardly glanced around the room for someone who might be able to tell her just who the hell this girl is. Was she an intruder? Did she know the Martinezes?

The girl answered for her when she shot Mari a crooked but welcoming smile.

“Hey,” she greeted, stepping to Mari with a happy bound in her step, “you must be Ruby’s sister, Mari, right? I’m Monse,”

The girl, Monse, offered her hand and Mari took it without hesitation. It felt weird to be shaking hands with a fourteen-year-old girl, but she supposed it was more comfortable than a hug - a thought that Mari expected would be changed in no time. Ruby’s friends were great; so kind and welcoming that it made her feel as though she had always been there. Even Cesar, though he wasn’t on speaking terms with the rest of the squad. Mari already knew Ruby enough not to mention that.

“Yeah,” Mari replied with a smile, “I’ve heard a lot about you from Ruby and Jamal. It’s nice to finally meet you. How was writing camp?”

“It was okay,” Monse said, but the huge smile on her face gave away her nonchalance. “I missed the guys though, it’s good to be back. I feel like I’ve missed everything,”

Mari blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; she was the everything that Monse had missed. While Mari knew the other girl didn’t mean anything by it, she still hated knowing that, to someone, she was still news.

Monse’s smile dropped and she stammered to apologize.

“Oh, I didn’t mean-”

With a gesture of her hand, Mari waved the apology away.

“It’s cool,” she said and offered Monse a genuine smile, “I was pretty unexpected. I’m sure Ruby will fill you in. The boys are just in Ruby’s room,”

And then, as if on cue, Ruby’s voice piped up.

“Check me out, bitches!” He exclaimed, “I got my own room! My own room,”

The two girls giggled between themselves at Ruby’s excitement.

“I better go,” Monse gestured to Ruby’s new own-room, “let them know I’m back. It was nice to meet you. It might be good to have another girl around,”

“If you ever need anything, you can probably find me at the store,” Mari glanced at the clock on the wall behind Monse and added, “at work, where I’m meant to be now. Shit; I’m late, I gotta run,”

“Go,” Monse flashed an easy smile, one that made Mari feel as though they’d been friends for years, “I’ll make sure Ruby gets to orientation alive,”

Mari was out the door with a grateful “thank you”.

Her first day as someone’s manager and already she was late. Not a very good first impression, though she supposed it wasn’t exactly the first impression. Trey had been adorably smitten upon meeting her, and Mari doubted tardiness was about to change that.

Kicking a dented Coca-Cola can back and forth between his feet and leaning most of his weight casually against the door, Trey was waiting for her to arrive. The bumbling, high-energy boy Mari had once met was gone, and in his place was someone looking weary beyond his years. His skin was tinted red from the sun and his otherwise soft-looking blond locks were matted with sweat, sticking out at odd angles. With a pang of guilt, Mari wondered how long he had been waiting out here in the heat.

“Hey,” Mari dipped her words in sugar, in the hopes that he wouldn’t be mad as she offered her apology. “I’m sorry I’m late; family stuff,”

It wasn’t exactly a lie: Mario leaving, Ruben crying and then Monse turning up. It’d been a busy morning. The excuse was vague and didn’t justify her being almost fifteen minutes late, Mari was banking on Trey’s infatuation to get her off the hook this once. It seemed to work as he looked up at her with a bright smile.

“It’s no biggie,” he shrugged, “I’m sorry I look like I have no sense of personal hygiene. I showered! I swear; I put on body spray and everything! I just, uh, I’m not used to this heat,”

Mari let herself laugh at his reaction. It was cute, she supposed, in a sort of childish way.

“I was exactly the same when I moved here. Come on, let’s get you out of the heat,” she offered her understanding, unlocking the store and heading straight for the standing-fan that acted as air-con.

Once inside, Trey set his backpack down behind the counter and expected her to get right to it: deactivate any security alarms, turn on the lights, set up the register, prepare for the day. Already behind schedule, there was no time to waste. What he didn’t expect was for her to turn around and lock the door once more.

“What are you doing?” He asked, glancing around the store, suddenly nervous and questioning his safety.

“Relax,” she said with a casual smile and a roll of her eyes, “follow me,”

Mari led him behind the counter, through a door labelled STAFF ONLY, past the ‘office’ and the bathroom and through to the stock room. It was small and crowded and filled with boxes - all but two of which were blanketed in dust. Trey figured this was where Mari spent her breaks; alone in the dark, perched atop a cardboard box. He was happily going to change that.

It took most of her strength, but Mari managed to move two of the smaller but heavier boxes aside to reveal a metal sliding door. Grabbing the handle with both hands, she used all her strength to pull the door aside. Trey’s face split into a grin and he looked at her like she *hung the stars*.

“Welcome to the Crystal Fortress,” Mari revealed the cool-room with a flourish of her hands, as though she were one of those game-show girls. “Come on in,”

Trey huffed a laugh but obeyed nonetheless.

“Are we even allowed to be in here?” He asked, though there was another large box in here with a curve in the top that told him this wasn’t the first time Mari hid back here.

She shrugged and closed the door behind them as the younger boy took a seat. “This place...is an anomaly. It makes just enough money to pay us and keep running, but the boss makes nothing. It’s been on the market for years, isn’t it worth anything though. Boss doesn’t really care what we do with it. In fact, I think he’d be pretty pleased if it burned down in the middle of the night. At least he’d get an insurance payout,”

Trey shook his head and leaned back against a wall, closing his eyes and relishing in the cool that immediately flooded his too-hot veins. “Something tells me Freeridge isn’t gonna be the simple town mom had in mind when we moved for a fresh start,”

Tell me about it, Mari thought.

“Why’d you move?”

“Uh,” the blond boy avoided her eyes, his own darkening as he looked anywhere but at her.

Too soon. Got it.

Mari tried again, “where are you from?”

“Brentwood,” he responded with a small smile, one that told her everything she needed to know; if it were up to him, he never would’ve left.

Suddenly, Mari felt as though she were intruding on something personal; intruding on his life. Dusting off her skirt, she cleared her throat and opened the door of the cool-room. Sharing time was over, it was time to leave the fortress and rejoin the real world.

“We better get to work,”

Tag list: @kseniainneverland @lostgirl219 @ravengreystone @robinsdolan @weediskindabad @moistdollerbills @javoqetal @kenzie44469 @goddessate @blackdepressoexpresso @classyputa @babygirl-htx @wonderlandlovelove @cacapoodlepoo @agent-femmefatale @elliesshitofablog @daydreamer0307 @lucyfuh @harduy @elizabeth-santana-98 @lonelyyblues @gangstanappah

[lgbt-ffxv-imagines]

gladio talking to iris abt ~sexuality~ shit and abt how it doesn't matter if yr undecided because you don't really Have to Decide

It’s a talk he’d been planning on having with her for years. It’s not a super easy thing to do, though, when your little sister is definitely more interested in kicking ass and taking names than she is in possible romantic relationships. He’s already bracing for the initial (and sometimes prolonged) disgust that kids all seem to exhibit when talking about romance and sexuality when he opens his mouth to start talking. It never comes.

The Amicitia manor has always been homely, even with its raucous gilding on all the woodwork, and Gladio allows himself to sink heavily into the couch. Iris blinks at him, expectant, and shrugs. 

“Okay. I had some questions, anyways,” she admits, unabashed, “so it’s actually really good to know I can talk to you about it, Gladdy!”

Gladio isn’t quite sure what to do. He’d planned on having to get past the discomfort that came with anything taboo, but Iris was already staring at him and smiling like it would somehow spirit him into speaking. He exhales slowly. 

“You’re calmer about this than I thought you would be,” he starts. “It’s good, actually. ‘M not exactly good with beating around the bush.”

“You’re doing a fine job of it, now,” she jokes, drumming her fingers on her knees. 

Iris reminds Gladio of himself. Not just in the whole “sibling resemblance” sort of way, but also in how he looks at people and acts around them. There’s that almost wary pattern of how she glances at girls in her class and obsesses over boys like they’re the only thing she has space for in her head. All the crushes are fleeting, a sort of infatuation that strikes for maybe a month before fading.

Gladio knows he’s pretty close to Iris, but he also knows that she has her own business that he’s not privy to. He hadn’t spilled his guts to anyone in full at that age, even if doing so would have saved him a lot of self hatred and answered just about all of his questions. He hopes that having a talk will help save Iris the trouble. 

“So, there’s a lot of stuff I was going to go over, but if you’re already looking into this stuff on your own, let’s just start with your questions,” he says. He makes sure his body language is open and welcoming, not wanting to send mixed signals and scare his little sister away when he needs someone to talk to. “If you aren’t sure how to verbalize them, that’s okay, ‘Ris. You can take your time, or ask me about it another day. I’ll always be here for you, y’know?”

He’s trying his best to make her comfortable, but she just stares at him before laughing. His face twists up into something akin to confusion because what the hell, Iris. Don’t laugh at me like that when I’m trying me best. 

She just keeps laughing, making attempts at calming herself down before asking between breaths, “I really needed to hear that. Sorry for laughing, big bro, but it’s just a huge weight off? I don’t know what to call myself, or what I am in terms of sexuality. I don’t even know how’d I’d handle gender right now with how confusing it is to realize that oh wow I really like girls, too.”

“You don’t have to figure it out, now.” Gladio gives a sheepish sort of smile. “Hell, you don’t have to figure it out ever, Iris,” he amends. “You’ll always be my little sibling, whether sister, or otherwise. Doesn’t matter if you bounce between labels, or never want to use them. Nobody else can tell you who to be.”

“But what if I want a label?” Iris picks at her skirt, nervous even if it does’t show in her voice. “Is it okay to pick one now and change it later, if it doesn’t fit?”

Gladio shrugs in a mirror of her earlier action. “You do whatever makes you happy. Whether that’s never picking one, using multiple, or swapping them as you puzzle yourself out, there are all okay. You don’t have to just decide on one thing and stick to it, ‘Ris.”

He doesn’t see it coming until she’s already launching herself across the coffee table at him, arms locked tight around his chest as she cries. It’s not a messy affair with snot and tears everywhere, but it’s just as important as any other major cry. It’s a weight off her shoulders he hadn’t even known was weighing that heavily on her until now. 

“Thank you, Gladdy. I love you so much. You’re the best,” she whispers into his neck, still gripping at him a little too tightly to be comfortable. 

“Love you too, Iris. You’re one hell of a little sister, y’know that?”

[eene-fangirl]

Stand By Ed Chapter 5 [An Ed, Edd n Eddy/Stand By Me Crossover]

NOTE: Chapter 5 of @camriko-arts and i’s collaboration of Stand By Me

WARNING: Some language

Returning back to the junkyard something immediately felt off to Edd. Ed and Eddy had disappeared. They were no longer sitting in the spot that had lounged out in spitting water in a can. The can was still there, however.

Oh, this better not be another joke, Edd grumbled to himself. He was not in the mood for one of Ed and Eddy’s immature jokes. Why did they always find it funny to mess with him? Yes, he could be aloof, but that didn’t give them any right!

But, then Edd heard something. Turning to his right his friends were climbing back over the fence. They looked as if they were in a rush. What was-

“Hey, you!”

A middle aged man who was noticeably balding and quite plump glared at Edd from a short distance away. The black circles which practically cemented under his eyes like a ghost were jarring. It was obvious that the man had been through quite a lot.

“What do you think you’re doing in here?! No trespassing allowed! Get out! I’ll sic my dog on you yah little shit!”

Edd jumped at his use of language. He could hear his friends telling him to run and so Edd did. This was against the law! And it wasn’t the first time he trespassed on someone else’s property!

Running as fast as his legs could take him and praying that he wouldn’t trip himself up like he usually did, Edd heard the ferocious dog barking at him, nearing closer.

“Sic him, Chopper!” Edd heard the man holler in a raspy tone.

Oh Dear! Oh Dear! Oh Dear! Edd prayed for the dog not jump on him. What if it stole his hate and ripped it to shreds? Then how would he conceal his scar?!

Edd practically slammed against the fence and climbed up. But, a pair of sharp teeth bit into his sock. “Not my socks!” Edd shouted. These were his favorite socks!

Reluctantly, Edd pulled away only for his sock to rip. Edd didn’t care. Protecting himself was his main concern. He climbed over the sharp wired edges and leaped into the dirt.

And that was when Edd looked up at his now confined attacker.

It was only a small dog. Who had a ferocious bark. He had graying white hairs on his snout.

Ed and Eddy toppled over laughing at the whole situation.

“This is Chopper?” Edd asked Eddy in a very put out tone.

“Yes, he’s small but ferocious,” Ed answered.

The dog kept on barking trying to jump at them against the fence. Eddy pouted his lip and waved his rear end in front of the dog, teasing it. “Come on, bit my ass! Bite it your ferocious mutt!”

Before Edd could tell Eddy to knock it off the owner bolted over and clung at the fence staring gravely at all the trio. His menacing stare made Eddy recoil, shivering. Edd immediately knew why.

“Don’t you dare tease my dog like that!” He shouted practically spitting on the boys.

Eddy smiled, obviously ready for some fun. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose your reputation?” he retorted.

“Don’t you talk like that to me you shit mouth! I-” The man stopped, staring at Eddy for a good long minute, examining his features.

“Hold on, aren’t you McGee’s kid?”

Eddy froze. He tried to make it seem as the man’s words had no effect on him. His composure was messed up, but he continued to fight. “What’s it to yah?”

“Your the kid brother to that demon! Thanks to him my son is brain dead!” He shouted pointing a finger through the fence right at Eddy. “I knew it was you! ‘Cause a you my wife has to look after him all day as he sits, stares and drools. He could have been on the football team!”

“It ain’t my fault!” Eddy defended himself.

“Hell it is! Your whole family!”

Ed boldly stepped in for his friend. “You leave him alone!”

The man grimaced at Ed. He also took a moment look over Ed. “Your father used to work for me, didn’t he?”

Ed’s eyes grew. Instead of fighting his case like Eddy, Ed quietly gestured for his friends that they should leave. And they did. The man was clearly trying to have some fun.

“He really became a depressed mess ‘cause your Mommy, huh? What’s wrong? The man couldn’t stand up for himself? Couldn’t even look out for you? I hear this is the most messed up divorce case ever!”

The Eds walked in silence. Ed had a hand on both his his friends shoulder. Edd could feel his hand tighten around their shoulder in comfort and in order to keep his temper at bay. He did not want the problem to come up right now.

“So. who’s gonna get you, yah retard?”

It was something completely snapped in Ed. He ran over to the fence attacking it as the man laughed at him. Edd and Eddy hurried over restaining Ed before he could climb back over the fence. The man grasped at his plump stomach and started walking off, howling in his own pleasure.

“My father is a wonderful man! I am Ed!”

“Say hello for me when old sad sack is signed in to a hospital!” The man waved with his back to the boys.

“I am Ed!” Ed screamed again, his voice growing raspy. His cheeks were completely red with rage.

“Go to hell you asshole!” Eddy shouted. This remark made the man turn around. Eddy turned up his finger and kicked dirt right into the dogs eyes causing it to whimper.

“Hey, get back here! Nobody trespassed this junkyard and gets away with it! I know your parents! I’ll call your father,and your father, and your mother!”

Once they were far enough away out of sight Ed broke down into tears, sobbing into his hands. Edd and Edd both kept a comforting arm around their friends shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him, Ed,” Edd said softly.

“That guy don’t have a clue to what he’s talkin’ about!” Eddy was next to argue.

Ed sniffled into his hands. He wiped the snot against his sleeves.

“Oh Ed, at least use a tissue,” Edd begged taking out a tissue from his pocket.

Ed blew his nose into the tissue. It was immediately covered in green, goopy snot immediately churning Edd and Eddy’s stomachs.

“Nobody talks about my father that way!” Ed sobbed, hiding half of his face behind the tissue.

Edd smoothed his hand up and down Ed’s back. The divorce had really affected their poor friend. Years prior Ed’s father took his children everywhere. They always had fun and his parents had a suitable relationship. Edd briefly met Ed’s parents only to notice something off about Ed’s mom’s behavior. She acted as if she dominated everyone.  And she was immediately angered by anything.

Ed didn’t deserve this life. His father even agreed that he couldn’t take care of his children with his mental health.

“We got your back, Ed,” Eddy said with a smile.

Removing his hands from his eyes Ed looked sad at both his friends. “You guys don’t think I’m a-a...”

“NO!” Edd and Eddy yelled out in unison.

“Don’t you ever think that about yourself, Ed!” Edd reprimanded.

“You’re a great guy, Ed! You’re smart and don’t you forget it!”

The friends kept walking a short distance with Ed lagging a ways. Eddy started to whistle their favorite tune trying to ease the mood. After none of them joined in he stopped.

“Guys?” Ed asked from behind.

“Yes, Ed?”

“I’m sorry if I ruined everything.”

Edd’s eyes broke. “Ed, no, don’t think like that.”

“If there’s anyone to blame it’s that jerkass back there! He was always so hot headed. I remember him yellin’ at me when I was still in diapers!”

Ed looked at his feet and then worriedly looked at his friends, afraid. “You don’t want to walk back do you?”

Eddy’s face changed to complete shock, immediately growing angry. “No way! We’re on a mission! We’re not letting Bro get there before we do! I’m not backing out on framing him! Ed, we’re in this together! We Eds got one another's backs! It in the oath!”

“We took an oath?” Ed asked.

“No. It’s just an automatic rule.”

The friends smiled and walked on following the train tracks.

[basement-office-log]

Some Thoughts about BTS...

So... this is basically, the story of how I got in and out of the BTS fandom. (Okay not exactly out because I’m still casually following them nowadays)

How I discovered them is ironically, like many of you, through youtube. It was just before the Run era I guess??? (around the end of 2015). Like somewhen between the Dope and Run era that I got in the fandom.

I guess I can consider myself as one of those depressed fans (lol), I actually remembered there was a option in the BTS fan survey around their BS&T era(???) that said “are you the kind of person that is easily depressed” and I ticked yes.

Almost instantaneously, I fell for the song “Butterfly” it was just the prologue that released back then. The MV was beautifully made, with a sad happy yet depressed undertone, perfectly described how I’m feeling back then.

I first noticed I’m depressed back then in 2015 (let’s be honest, college makes everyone depressed), more like “ahh so this is what being depressed is”. 

And what now... I’m writing this after a tiring long day at work so things may jump back and forth... 

Both their HYYH albums, I had gone through countless late nights listening the tracks on repeat, those are still my favourite albums up till today. Beapsae, instead of partying, that was the song that kept me awake till 5 a.m. ahh those memories... Same with Dope, I did not read the english lyrics until the hundredth repeat lmao. I was actually expecting the song to be about how cool I am, come to oppa and I’ll make you the princess kind of lyrics but ehh boi you surprised me with those raps hmmm....... 

And... Jungkook, I did not like him when I first got into the fandom, to be honest. Because he’s younger than me and also he’s the center, main vocal of the group, despite the youngest. I remembered I was like, wow cocky brat isn’t it. Hehhhhhh but I grew to like him over time anyway, he’s cute, talented, good looking and all but still, it would be hella a headache if I were to have a younger brother like him.

It took me a year to like Jungkook because... The more I look at stuff, he’s just a regular boy, growing up, working hard, trying not to disappoint his parents and people around him. In a sense, aren’t we all just like that? There really is no reason to hate. 

Another member is Jimin. He’s another member that I don’t quite like when I just got in the fandom. We all know that he acted a bit flirtatious during his debut days, up to the Danger era, honestly, his eye make-up makes me feeling uncomfortable to look at him. That’s the first thing. The appearance and the way he acts, in no way I’m trying to say he’s ugly, because if I were to compare myself to him, umm I probably looked like a bum lol.

It took me a lot longer to like Jimin, it’s until the Spring Day era that I thought, alright Jimin is charismatic and cute, admit it. Hah yea... Now, this is when the second stage of not liking Jimin comes. I started to fear him. It’s weird I know, why would I scared of “the mochi of BTS” Let me tell you why.

It’s scary to see how hard a person can work, that his goal is probably more important than his life. It makes me think that I am not and will not be a person like this, living is more important than what I am achieving. I wouldn’t want to risk my life doing things, however important that thing might be. Well people said, you will never achieve your goal like this if you don’t put your life on it. But I don’t care about that, but at the same time I’m feeling guilty about that. 

It might be a Korean thing, we all know Koreans worked insanely hard because of society standards. Or it also could be a Jimin thing, Nevertheless, this man have my respect. The respect that I keeps me away from accepting him.

I’m kind of in the neutral range with Suga, J-hope and Jin like they are cool, fantastic, great people. 

-----

This is almost 24 hours later, since the last paragraph. Again, a long and tiring day, after work, prolly a few minutes away from losing consciousness (a.k.a. falling asleep lol)

This shit is going to be very VERY long, nah it doesn’t matter because no one is going to read this anyway, even if I tagged BTS below, I’m writing this for myself.

I’ll just briefly talk about RM and V before going into my main topic today, (all because I cut myself off yesterday to hit the hay ekkk).

Rapmon bro, the reason why I decided to look into this group is because of his mixtape. I have 2 of his tracks in my old phone back then, everything was gone when my phone literally died a few months back. (The whole album is available for free download anyway so its all good) I have no interest in hip hop or whatsoever back then, but I became interested in hip-hop just a little after listening to his mixtape album. He is really someone I look up to, honestly, it’s no easy job to be a leader, not just in idol groups but just in every field in general. I tried becoming one because my mother always expect me to be one, after a few attempts (it was back in high school by the way) I thought it’s just not my thing, I’m more of a following instruction kind of person, I do my part and make sure everyone is okay. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to become a leader like person. In the future, maybe... But my depression went really downhill these days, so I’m not sure if that day will come. But I do aspire to become someone like him.

V or I prefer calling him Tae. He is my first bias. His existence just screams “RELATABLE” to me, (minus his looks) He seemed to be struggling with words whenever he tries to say something. That also is something I had to deal with on a daily basis. It’s like when you have good looks, everything you did is cute, but for me, it’s more like an annoyance. So I tried to keep quiet as much as possible. Nevertheless, I just hope that I will meet someone that will understand the way I talk like the other BTS members did with Tae, have a best friend like Jimin and... yea.

BTS hmm the annual sit and talk for part of their BTS Festa thingy, it’s called the Dinner Party this year hmm cool. I stopped watching after the first 30 minutes, for the exact reason why I also did not watch more than 5 minutes of last year’s sit and talk.

We all know that, they had achieved tremendous success for the past few years. A lot of their songs often circle around their hardships and what fuck the haters?? If that make sense. Whenever they have talks like this, I always bail myself out there, and yea I never install Vlive back after I got this new phone because there really is no reason to catch every live and Run BTS episodes now.

This was not long before the DNA era, I always found myself having thoughts like:

“So you have started to avoid BTS hmm?” Yea right, took me a while to admit. I used to not miss a single notification. There is no more random videos on the BangtanTV channel as they get more and more popular, there is just backstages and really just back stages and behind the scenes of their daily schedules and tours. It shows that they are working hard, really hard. Which leads me to the next question.

“It feels uncomfortable isn’t it, comparing yourself to a worldwide famous group of artist?” Hmph. I worked hard, really hard. I even live by the motto, do or die. But that doesn’t seemed to be enough. People around me, always told me that I should push myself more. I DID, I REALLY DID, BUT WHY CAN’T YOU SEE IT.

“But BTS can, why can’t you?” I’m just going to work harder, I tell myself. I don’t have to face the same pressure as BTS did, I’m having it way more easier. But at the same time, there is seven of them in BTS, but there is only one me.

The voice at the back of my head, you are not helping.

I swiped away all notifications from BangtanTV ever since. 

Because seeing them having each other around reminds me how am I not going to have friends like this, how I’m never going to achieve this much. But mostly it reminds me how lonely I am.

By the time the Mic Drop remix released, I started having what I called the depressive episodes. I think I’m going to describe them as a waking nightmare, all the thoughts in my head are killing each other, fighting for the limited space in my head. Which ever thought that dominate my mind is the winner. I stared into blankness, tears and snots all over my face, hyperventilating while finding excuses to tell people what happened to me if anyone ever sees me. 

Honestly I don’t think people is going to read this... but the tag is down there just for the slightest hope that people that come across this will know that, ahh there are people like this out there too... Some of you might think, this is pathetic, attention seeking but at the end of the day, I just want some closure for myself. I need to admit that, no matter how much interviews I watch, how much memes I’ve seen everyday, they are not going to be my friends. They will forever be the people in screens, and I belong to the 97% of the population that will lead a normal life.

Here I am, the Fake Love era that comes to a close. I can’t even bring myself to listen to the whole album, because chances are, some of the lyrics are going to trigger the shit out of me. Same goes with Suga’s mixtape, J-hope’s mixtape.

I really miss the days where they made simple love songs like the ones in the Dark and Wild album. Blanket Kick is my personal favourite. 

I’m sure there are still a lot more that I had in mind but I just forget what is it about to include in this. I’ll get a part 2 done when there is time. 

BTS now just feels like the popular kids I went to school with, now graduated from a school named ARMY, they are like the ex-classmates I bump into once in a while. Thank you, for the best 3 years in my life. I had lots of laughter, times that I forgot about my sadness and your warm words that took me through difficult times. You are the reason that I survived until today and also the trigger of some of my episodes. 

SInce it’s already past midnight, I wanted to say Happy 5th debut anniversary, stay healthy (to both BTS and ARMY out there) be happy and may you all be reaching higher and higher till you celebrate your 10th anniversary. (or maybe longer)

*Just a sidenote, as a Malaysian fan, I’m just going to keep calling Rapmon, Rapmon because RM is our effin currency, I don’t want to be reminded of money issues whenever I thought of you. As far as I know, you do have a beautiful name as your mother definitely did not named you Rap Monster. It’s just that stage name exist for a reason. And I think I know at least 5 Jins in real life, so the wide shoulder hyung is just going to be Kim Seok Jin in my head haha yea.

[grimmseye]

Take Me Out

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Mitsuki, Kaminari Denki (brief)

Other tags: Misunderstandings, Bakugou’s Particular Brand Of Flirting, Some Heteronormativity

Anonymous said: For a bakushima prompt, I would love to see aggressively flirting Bakugou.

— — — —

Mitsuki eyed her son. He was glowering down at his curry, teeth clamped as though to bite back the words that just left his mouth. She wished Masaru were there, just so she could confirm her bewilderment with such a question. Was it unusual for a boy to ask his mother that? No. But Katsuki.

She raised her eyebrows at him, even if he was trying to glare a hole through his plate instead of looking at her. “You never want to hear that,” she informed him, noting the jump in his shoulders.

Katsuki swiped at his own hair, gripping at the roots. “Well I want to hear now,” he snarled.

“Even though every time I tried to tell you before, you threw a fit?”

“What did you say, bitch?!”

“Watch your mouth, brat!”

They locked eyes, Mitsuki challenging, Katsuki already wavering. “Fuck!” He snapped, “Are you going to tell me or not?” His voice didn’t have it’s typical inflections of rage. She studied his face, the turn of his brow. Mitsuki’s own irritation faded.

She sighed, “Is there a reason for the sudden interest?” Katsuki’s eyes flashed, subtle, but she was his mother. Leaning forward on her elbows, she asked, “Is there a girl?”

He spat. “No! Fuck, mom, forget it!”

“No, I’ll tell you, sit down, Katsuki.” She huffed, staring him down until he settled back into his seat. “You want to know how I met your father.”

“No, how you asked him out.” Katsuki gave her a sullen look.

“Oh-ho!” She grinned. But Katsuki ducked his head, craddling it between his arms. A flush was creeping up his cheeks.

She softened, watching him for a few moments. When, she wondered, had this happened? And how had she missed it?

Mitsuki pushed her fingers through her son’s hair. “It means that much to you, huh?”

He made a sound in his throat, self-pitying. Mitsuki smiled. “Alright. You know that I met Masaru at work. There’s not much to it, Katsuki. I liked him, and I decided to win him over. All I had to do was hit on him until he agreed to go on a date with me.” She laughed as Katsuki bolted up.

“You hit on him?” His mouth bent down. “That fuck does that even mean?”

Mitsuki’s grin stretched wider. “You know! Flirting. I made it real obvious that I was interested, and even though he kept making excuses, he never really turned me down. It was like a little game between the two of us.” She cupped her own cheek, sighing wistfully. “I couldn’t believe it when he did say yes. Completely out of the blue —”

“—Alright, alright!” Katsuki interrupted her, impatient. “Get to the point. What did you say?”

Mistuki rolled her eyes. He would never get far if he couldn’t learn to wait. “Well, it’s been a long time, Katsuki. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was probably something like Masaru, your ass is grass and I’m gonna —”

She broke into laughter when Katsuki shoved himself away from the table, cursing over her voice. He seized his dish, and she let him go, though not before calling out to him. When he stopped, albeit reluctantly, she said, “Try not to scare her off. I want you to be happy, you know.”

Katsuki’s eyes dropped. “Mom,” he started, “I promise I’m not gonna be scaring off any girls.”

— — — —

Kirishima was going to have a breakdown before the day ended.

“I don’t know what I did,” he whimpered, for probably the tenth time that day.

Kaminari, for probably the tenth time that day, told him, “Nothing, probably! Bakugou’s just insane.”

“But he’s never done this before!” Kirishima threw his hands in the air. “I mean, not to me! And I can’t find him anywhere so I can’t ask him.” His voice trailed into a miserable whine.

“Just corner him in class tomorrow.” Kaminari snorted. “Least that way we’ll be able to back… you… up.” He studied Kirishima’s expression, his own going slack. “Kirishima,” he said, deadpan. “Bro. Tell me you’re not.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Kirishima was being dramatic, but hell if he didn’t deserve to be. He threw himself backwards, bouncing on Kaminari’s bed.

“Not get your face blown up?” Kaminari smacked his own forehead as he gestured at Kirishima. “Did you miss the bit where he said ‘I’m taking you out.’” His voice dropped into a mockery of Bakugou’s growl. “Like, explodo-murder?”

Kirishima shrugged as best he could while laying down. “I’m just -- I’m gonna talk to him.”

“Uh-huh. Cause that works.” He did not appreciate Kaminari’s tone of voice. Ultimately, Kaminari gave in, sighing, “Well, it’s your funeral, dude. Guess if anyone can talk him down, it’s gonna be you.”

“Thanks,” Kirishima sighed. “I think? It’s about time for me to go, anyway, so. Wish me luck.”

“Don’t die,” Kaminari offered.

Bakugou told him to meet him outside UA’s gates at seven. The sun was nearly gone, streaks of orange reaching a final farewell before fading into the night.

He was right where told Kirishima he’d be. He turned his scowl to Kirishima as he approached, growling out, “You’re late, fuckface.”

“Right, sorry, sorry.” Kirishima was quick to trail off, biting his lip until he was in danger of slicing into it. “Actually, um, while I’m apologizing. I guess I owe you another one?”

Bakugou’s face froze. When he spoke, his voice was strained, fingers curling into fists. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Kirishima swallowed a miserable groan. “Just that -- you know -- I don’t know what I did? To warrant this?”

He could see a muscle flex in Bakugou’s jaw. “What you /did/? Fuck if I know, Kirishima! The same shit you do every day?”

“O-oh.” Kirishima studied the ground. That… didn’t spell anything good. And here he’d really been thinking they had something good going on. “Well, I can’t really. Say anything about that. Lead the way, I guess.” He waved a listless hand.

Bakugou breathed out heavily. “Try not to sound so over the goddamn moon, huh?” His lip curled, displeased, but he jerked an arm for Kirishima to follow. Then, as though thinking better of it, seized his wrist to drag him instead. Making sure Kirishima didn’t make a run for it, maybe? That was a little insulting.

They traveled in silence. Bakugou kept looking at him, sharp turns of his head to catch a glimpse of Kirishima, then glaring forward again. It was distracting, and Kirishima’s brain was already spinning.

“Oi, Kirishima, get out of the fucking clouds!”

He blinked, jerking. Bakugou let his wrist go, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are we here?” Dread welled in his throat as he glanced around, taking in the booths and the families milling between them, the hand-holding couples.

“Huh?” He looked at Bakugou, then back, then around, just to make sure that was where they were meant to be. “A festival -- Bakugou, isn’t this too public?”

Bakugou’s brow furrowed, the grimace of his mouth become somehow anxious. “Fucking hell, Kirishima, you choose now to suddenly hate crowds?” Kirishima tried to speak, but he barreled on, “Whatever, shit, fine. Next time I take you on a date I’ll just fucking stay in the dorms. Where the hell should we go, then?”

Kirishima’s mouth dropped open. The longer he stared, the deeper Bakugou’s scowl became.

“Date?” He squeaked.

There was a moment where Bakugou just looked at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. “Date,” he repeated. “As in. We’re fucking on one!”

“We are?”

“What did you think this was?!”

“I thought you were gonna fight me! And I didn’t know why but, wow, this makes a lot more sense.” Kirishima laughed, and then groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Bakugou was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So you’re saying you followed me out here to let me beat the snot out of you.”

Kirishima gave him a wobbly motion of the hand, a sheepish grin on his face. “I mean I wouldn’t just let you deck me. I was gonna try to talk it through, but you kind of threw me for a loop back there.”

Bakugou was making a decent effort to just pry his nose right off his own face, cartilage and all. Finally he let out the breath he’d been holding, shaking his head. “You know what? Let’s just. Forget it. Go back to the fucking school.”

Kirishima’s eyes hovered on him. Visibly, Bakugou was irritated. But there was an underlying shadow to his expression that made Kirishima’s heart swell. He looked dejected. Like a puppy that was growling because it lost its favorite toy. “No way, man!” He reached to grasp Bakugou’s hands. “You took me all the way out here, didn’t you? Don’t tell me it was for nothing!”

He watched as Bakugou’s face cleared. “You do realize that this is a date, right? No misconceptions that I’m gonna mug you in a back alley or some shit?”

A sheepish laugh left Kirishima. “I guess it was unfair of me to think that… It was why I was so confused in the first place! Didn’t think you’d do that kind of thing.” He smiled at Bakugou, watching the pink dust over his nose in the streetlight. “But, yeah, I got you. A date.” God, his voice got all dreamy there.

Bakugou looked away, teeth clenched. “Don’t sound so fucking smitten, it’s one date.”

“A date that you asked me to,” Kirishima singsonged, pulling Bakugou’s hands towards himself. “And you said next time! You were planning for more!”

Against his expectation, Bakugou met his eyes. Then he grinned, vicious. Kirishima abruptly realized he may have made a mistake. “Damn fucking right I am. Cause you’re gonna be fucking begging for more by the end of tonight.”

Heat rushed to Kirishima’s cheeks. His voice came out pitched. “Do you have to say it like that?”

A raised brow. “Like what?”

There was no damn way Bakugou didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, with that smirk on his face. Kirishima sputtered, “Like — Like — augh, never mind! Come on, B-Bakugou, do your worst!”

Bakugou’s worst was to wrap an arm around his waist and tug their hips flush. Kirishima made a sound that was entirely unmanly, hyper aware of the grip Bakugou kept on him. And then, Bakugou had his lips by his ear, sending pirckles up his neck and shuddering into the roots of his hair. “Remember, Kirishima, tonight you’re fucking mine.”

Straightforward and manly. All they were doing was going to a festival together, but Kirishima was so incredibly screwed.

[legsbpedaling-blog]

Chapter 5 Japan.

I'll admit the first group of Marines I interacted with at first weren't high up on the role model ladder. I did learn from their mistakes however. Not to drink too often, do what I'm told by my superiors and watch my attitude around people I did not know.

Base didn't have too many options for hobbies so I got into computers. Back when the Internet wasn't infiltrated with snot nosed script kiddies trying to look cool. Most of my evenings were spent pirating music and movies. My collection was becoming impressive. Marines knew who to go to if they wanted to fill a hard drive up.

Another guy in my unit was also into computers and we shared our knowledge. His name was Owens and he didn’t interact too much with people outside his computer and phone. Caught up in some long-distance relationship from a girl back home in Michigan.  Completely whipped.

On one of the rare outings we found ourselves at the mall. No specific reason for being there, perhaps a much-needed escape from base. Oddly enough, we ended up standing in a jewelry store.

“Are you getting a new watch or something?” I asked Owens.

“Not exactly” He replied. He kept pacing back and forth, all while avoiding eye contact with any of the sales people.

“Buy me a new one then!” I laughed.

“I’m checking out some rings. I’ve been thinking a lot about my girl back home and I’m going to ask her to marry me.” He said.

“Don’t do it! It’s a trap and you know as soon as you deploy she’s just going to fuck some other guy. Then drain your bank account and force you to pay child support for two decades bro.” That reply was drilled into our minds by Marines who have watched it happen on numerous occasions.

“Nah man, she’s not like the skanks you see around base. She’s a smart girl. She will be visiting soon and you’ll get to meet her.”

“Yeah considering all I know about her now, is she exists inside your damn phone. You’re whipped.” I laughed. I wasn’t trying to make him feel bad for asking his girl to marry him. I don’t know, to me it was a bad move this early in the Marines and all of us were too young. There was no persuading him. A few weeks after he bought the ring, they were engaged.

Time to gather up all the gear and board a plane for Japan! A paid vacation to a country a lot of people wish they could visit. Relieved in a way my first deployment wasn't going to be in an area where bombs were going off, then again all of this training and nothing to use it on was irritating. I was growing up in an artillery unit. It was in our nature to want to blow something up.

The trip seemed to take forever. Each time we were told to pick up our bags someone else would appear and tell us we had to standby. Owens and I entertained a small group of Marines by showing movies on small laptop screens. Movies or porn, depending on the wall space we could plug into.

We finally arrived at our new home, Okinawa, Japan. The building was bland with an empty parking lot in front of it. The company commander delivered our welcome briefing after we off loaded all our bags from the seven ton trucks.

The barracks were six stories high, the sixth floor being our new home. Each of our bags weighed anywhere from fifty to eighty pounds, and oh yeah, we weren't allowed to use the elevators.

One hundred and twelve Marines all crammed towards the doors trying to get to the stairs first, it was a mess. I noticed on the left side that it also had stairwells on the ends of the building. Picked up my bags and took the simple way to my room. Turns out the side doors were locked. Designed to be exit only in case of an emergency. I walked my happy ass back down the stairs and waited for the bottle neck of Marines to dissipate.

The hallway floors looked to be polished. So much so that we could look into it and see our reflections. They didn't always look that way, many of us took turns sweeping, mopping and buffing the floors. We tried to be slick and disable the buffer. Not a good plan. Our corporal made us get the same shiny results using tee shirts to polish the floors.

Living on a base in another country was like living in a bubble. Everything outside the gate was foreign and interesting. Everywhere we went we had to go on foot. I missed the speed of my bike.

During the first month, we made every effort to get out and explore. For some of the marines this was there second or third deployment. I didn't fully trust the advice given by them, because I wasn't sure if they were trying to keep us away from all the good spots.

We went out and trained often when we weren't losing our minds over boredom on base. We all hated our jobs, but continued to do them to not fuck over the other guy. I suppose that's how it is with any unit in the military. We knew when it came down to it, if we were to ever deploy to a combat zone we would be there to have each other’s backs.

In the coming months, we were privileged enough to visit some pretty amazing places. Spent a week, due to shitty sea weather that grounded us, in Nagasaki. It was interesting to stand on the landmark to the epicenter where the atomic bomb dropped. The atmosphere was still spooky in parts of the city. The trees grew at the same length which made sense.

Throughout the city, we could sense that the citizens didn't approve of our presence. To make matters worse, one of my friends kept making a whistling noise mimicking a bomb dropping. He was hilarious, but a sick bastard at heart.

“And you wonder why they still hate us.” I sighed.

“Did you see the look on their faces though?” He laughed. Still unable to control his inner asshole.

When the weather cleared up, we drifted over to Fuji. Such a beautiful part of earth. Aside from all the training we did blowing shit up, we had the opportunity to climb Mount Fuji. If you've never been let me describe it from a dumb Marines perspective. Owens, my friend Ski and I took off from the group to try to run up the side of the mountain. In our minds, we were going to be the first ones that day to the top. The damn mountain was a lot larger than we originally thought. The rocks were a mix of reds and browns. Rarely did we come across any vegetation, other than the base of the mountain.

We slowed down once reality caught up with us and continued to walk as fast as we could. Old women and children native to Japan started passing us. Each time we thought we were almost to the top a new section would appear. Took hours to reach the top. I made Mount Fuji my bitch.

The top was breathtaking! Some smart businessman put a gift shop at the top, full of merchandise covered in Mount Fuji advertising. Not sure what they make in sales, but I'd hate to be the guy making the deliveries.

Getting our second wind, we ran around taking pictures because when you can stand on top of the world you want to remember it. The excitement prevented me from wanting to sit and rest. I collected up several volcanic rocks and stuffed them into my back pack. Free souvenirs!

The Marines behind us made it up to the top, and with more energy left over. One of them told me that at the bottom of the other side there was a place to get ice cream. Time to head back down! The side of the mountain was made up of tiny loose rocks. Almost like stepping into a pile of sand with a little larger grain sizes. Going down was easier than the trip up, obviously.

We started lengthening our strides to make good time. Before long we were jogging down the side of Mount Fuji. Not the best idea we ever came up with, but it was exhilarating. As the speed increased so did our awareness it was impossible to slow ourselves down.

In the distance, I noticed a couple of large boulders in my direct path! I wasn't going to have enough time to dodge them so I did the next best thing, I jumped. The stupidest stunt ever performed on that mountain I'm sure.

My body left the earth and I became airborne. My head tilted forward until I was in a superman pose flying passed other climbers. I was in the air for about twenty feet before finally coming back down. My head landed first sending me into several somersaults. By the time I was able to stop I had traveled about one hundred feet from the damn large boulder. Needless to say, I took home a three-day headache along with my volcanic rocks.

Another guy from our unit opted not to climb the mountain. He went the group who hung out in Tokyo. He was our token alcoholic and ended up getting lost by himself somewhere in the city. Hell, it was rare to see him sober. Tales were told of a day or two among the unit. The commanding officer chewed all of our asses for losing him. The police eventually found him sitting on a sidewalk holding his arrive alive card. (Card with unit contact information) Got to hand it to him, even sloshed he knew how to get back to us.

We returned to Okinawa after our series of training operations. My birthday was fast approaching in November. No longer would I have to beg others to pick up alcohol for me. I would be able to go to the local bars without fear of being caught by my superiors. The week or so before turning twenty-one I would drink with a few friends in my barracks room. I guess you could say, we were prepping my body for a large amount of poisoning.

Happy Birthday! The entire day seemed to drag on forever. Some of my friends took out extra cash to make sure we had enough to properly reach a fucked-up stage. We left the base around eight, venturing into an area called Kinville. Or Sinville for those of you who know what I'm talking about. We walked into a tiny bar with two or three people and I ordered my first legal drink. A jack and coke.

Marines are assholes. Plain and simple. The next bar was packed and upon entering my friend yelled, "this Marine just turned twenty-one!" The drinks started appearing out of nowhere. Beer, shots, jack and cokes, rum and cokes and whatever else, I can't honestly remember.

“I’m going to regret all of this in the morning!” I yelled across the bar.

The last stop was in a bar called East Coast. Located on the second floor of a rundown building across from base. We didn't slow down. My last memory was being handed something called a rainbow shot. It was said to be so potent that it wasn't allowed to leave the bar once they lit it on fire. Step one, blow out the shot; step two, blackout.

The rest of the night was retold by my friends in the days to come. I'll share the adventure with you. I blew out the rainbow shot and downed the contents. From there I turned into the crowd grabbing other people's drinks and chugging them. The inevitable trip to the bathroom sent me hopping over a table, slapping a girl in the ass and tripping over a bar stool. Inside the bathroom was a shower stall, not sure why. I proceeded to throw up in the stall while people in the bathroom laughed at me.

Left the bathroom and told Owens it was time to leave. He followed behind me as I literally rolled my way down the stairs to the main street below. Stumbling the entire way up to the cross walk, my friends thought I was going to be put on restriction for being so intoxicated.

We approached the road directly across from the base main gate. I took a few deep breaths, remembered every James Bond movie ever made and reached for my military ID. Miraculously I went from trashed to seemingly sober in the time it took me to cross the road. I walked up to the gate without a stumble in my step, said good evening to the guard as he checked my ID and let me pass.

Forty or so feet after the gate I switched back to drunk. Fell into a bush and my friends had to walk me the remaining tenth of a mile to the barracks. Half hour later I was found lying down in the hallway with my key in the door and my hand still attached to it. Somewhere there exists a picture of the hallway scene. I have since lost track of it.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, without a hangover. Not sure exactly how the hell I escaped fate, but I was appreciative. The following night was just as fun. More alcohol!

One of my best friends wanted to drink a few in the barracks because he wasn't able to join us for my birthday. Turns out he had a magical ability to get completely shit faced off four beers. This was back when Budweiser was releasing their four packs of aluminum bottles. Being the caring Marines as we always are, we took care of him.

First, we placed him in the bath tub and shaved one of his legs. Moot point to shave both of them. We then decorated him in sharpie art and followed him back into his room. Didn't take much to convince him of an impending dust storm. We put his goggles on him and tucked him into bed.

He kept mumbling something about being sick. We put great effort into getting him to throw up in his own Kevlar. (Helmet, for the nonmilitary folk.) Few months went by and it was time to pack up our shit and wait in line for another plane.

[subjisoo]

Check In chapter 9

Words: 3k

Genre: ??? idk drama? angst? not sure yet lol

Synopsis: Seungcheol and his best friend Wonwoo have been running a small drug dealing business for the past two years, along with Wonwoo’s boyfriend Mingyu on the books and new recruit Hansol to manage the second hand shop they use as a cover story.

This Chapter: Lots of hurt and comfort for Cheolsol and backstory for Seungcheol bc I ?? haven't given him any yet wtf

Warnings: drug ment (light), conversion therapy ment (very very light), death ment

Author’s Note: based on the MV for Check In which I edited into a kind of trailer for this fic and u can watch it here.

Check In: chapter one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / read on ao3

Hansol had never actually made a sale himself, but he’d been witness to so many that he figured he would be fine. He had told Seungcheol this on the phone, but it didn’t stop him from texting Hansol every five minutes to make sure he was okay.

When half an hour went by with no text, Hansol started to get worried and called Seungcheol.

“Oh thank god,” Seungcheol’s voice echoed on the other end when he picked up.

“Are you in a toilet?”

“Well, I’m not going to take a phone call from my boyfriend about our weed business in front of a homophobic conservative, am I?”

Hansol laughed. “Fair enough. So why haven’t you texted for a while? You were being pretty consistent for a while there.”

“I ran out of credit.”

“Wow, that’s dedication.”

“Can you just, text me updates so I know everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Nothing happened in the past half an hour except some freshmen came in trying to get something so I told them there was a waiting list.”

“No one causing you any trouble?”

“Nope, I’ve got everything under control.”

Seungcheol breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god. What about the other two?”

Hansol glanced at the stair case. “No word yet, but I heard the shower running a while ago. No yelling or sounds of anything breaking, which I guess is a good sign.”

“Very good. Okay babe I gotta go, she’ll tell me off for taking a shit in public if I stay in here too long.”

Hansol laughed, looking to the front of The Shop as the bell rang. “Okay, I gotta go too; customers.”

“Stay safe, and text me updates.”

“Will do,” Hansol said, rising from the stool to greet the customers. “I really gotta go, Cheol.”

“Okay okay, I’ll talk to you soon, love you.”

Before he could reply, Seungcheol had hung up. Hansol shook himself, putting his phone next to the till and greeting the customers.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

There were two of them; a tall, willowy woman and a short, stoic man with a goatee. The man looked around The Shop as the woman stood in front of the till, towering over Hansol.

“We’re here for what’s in the back room,” she said, not meeting Hansol’s eyes.

Something about her made Hansol very uncomfortable. “Sure, can I get a name?”

“Lee.”

Hansol laughed, taking the clipboard out from under the desk. “We have about twenty of those, I’m gonna need your first name too.”

He flipped to the letter L on the list of customers and scanned it for Lee Minji. “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t have you on our list. You’ll have to go through a background check before we can sell to you.”

Minji nodded slowly, finally meeting Hansol’s eyes. “What, do I have to sign up to buy weed?”

“That’s generally how we operate, yes.”

She shared a look with the man, who was standing by the books on the wall. She turned back to Hansol.

“Thank you.”

With out saying anything else, the two of them left. Hansol stowed away the clipboard and sat down again. He debated calling Seungcheol, but decided it would be better to text him.

[Sent, 1:34pm] Hey, still alive

[Received: Seungcheol, 1:34pm] Thanks babe

Hansol decided not to tell him about the people until Seungcheol got back in case he got too worked up, but felt he needed to tell someone.

[Sent, 1:35pm] Everything okay up there?

He bounced his knee as he waited for a reply.

[Received: Mingyu, 1:37pm] Crisis: averted

[Received: Mingyu, 1:37pm] Peace: restored

[Received: Mingyu, 1:38pm] Dick: not out

[Received: Mingyu, 1:39pm] Thanks for everything, by the way, it means a lot

[Sent, 1:40pm] It’s no problem man, I’m glad things are okay now

[Received: Mingyu, 1:41pm] Yeah well idk if I would’ve been able to do it without your help

[Sent, 1:41pm] You would’ve been fine man, but I’m glad I could be there for u

[Received: Mingyu, 1:42pm] Thanks bro, sorry our balls didn’t touch

Hansol laughed, feeling a bit more at ease as he typed in his next reply.

[Sent, 1:43pm] If your dick really isn’t out, is it cool if I come up? Got some business stuff to talk about

[Received: Mingyu, 1:44pm] Sure, we’re on the balcony

When he got onto the balcony, Mingyu and Wonwoo had their chairs right next to each other and were holding hands, a mug of black coffee and a glass of orange juice on the table. They both looked up as Hansol shoved the door open and joined them at the table. Wonwoo looked exhausted, his eye starting to swell with the bruising. Mingyu’s eyes were still a bit puffy, but he looked quietly happy.

“You two are a sight for sore eyes.”

Mingyu laughed and the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth tugged up.

“Everything sorted out?”

Mingyu turned to Wonwoo who cleared his throat and looked intently at the glass of orange juice. “Yeah. Mingyu stopped crying, at least.”

The three of them laughed a little, and Hansol felt bad for bringing something negative back to them.

“Some people just came into The Shop and I think they were like, cops or something?”

Mingyu sat up a little more. “What makes you think that?”

Hansol told them what happened and Mingyu thought for a moment. “Doesn’t sound like cops.”

“What does it sound like?”

Mingyu took in a sharp breath, letting go of Wonwoo’s hand and leaning forwards. “Do you know of any other drug dealing services in the area?”

Hansol shrugged. “Not really my scene, if you’d believe it. I can ask around though.”

“Don’t make it obvious. Actually, don’t do it, I’ll sort things out. My cousin might know, I’ll give him a call.”

Hansol looked at Mingyu expectantly as he got his phone out of his pocket. Wonwoo rested his arm on the back of Mingyu’s chair and picked up the coffee to take a drink.

“Thanks for letting us know, Hansol. You can go back down if you want.”

“Okay. I haven’t told Cheol yet; he can’t really talk on the phone and I figured a text would just freak him out.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Smart.”

Hansol left them to it and went back downstairs, relieved to find the shop empty. He planted himself back on his stool and reached for his phone.

[Sent, 2:02pm] Still kickin’

[Received: Seungcheol, 2:03pm] Good to hear

The rest of the day was uneventful, with Seungcheol and Mikyung returning just as Hansol was closing up. He greeted them both politely, not knowing if he should talk to Seungcheol or not. They walked past him and went upstairs without any conversation, and Hansol was about to leave without saying goodbye when he got a text.

[Received: Seungcheol, 5:07pm] I’ll be down in a minute, can you wait for me?

[Sent, 5:07pm] Sure

Seungcheol came down the stairs a few minutes later, carrying a duffel bag.

“Hope you don’t mind me crashing at yours? Mingyu said he could handle things for a night. I think they want the room to themselves.”

Hansol raised his brows. “With her in the next room?”

Seungcheol shrugged, giving Hansol a brief kiss. “They can be quiet if they really want to.”

Hansol laughed, opening the door and letting Seungcheol step out before him. “Sure, Jan.”

They held hands as they walked back to the dorms, talking lightly and avoiding big subjects. When they got to Hansol’s room, it was a mess from Mingyu that morning. The duvet was on the floor and there was crumpled up toilet paper littered around the floor. The empty cups of noodles were still on the desk.

Hansol closed the door behind them and put his backpack on his desk, collapsing on the bed. “He produces so much snot, you wouldn’t believe.”

Seungcheol placed his bag by the door and navigated his way to the bed, falling onto it next to Hansol. “He had a cold for two weeks last year. It was hell.”

Hansol winced. “I can imagine.”

Seungcheol propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room. “This is pretty impressive, though. How’d the duvet get on the floor?”

Hansol shrugged. “It’s all a blur of tears and tissues.”

Seungcheol laughed. “They seemed okay when I was up there before. Mind you I wasn’t there for long.”

“They’re okay, I talked to them for a bit when they were sitting on the balcony holding hands and cuddling.”

“What a relief. I can deal with me and Wonwoo fighting, but I don’t know how to deal with them fighting.”

Hansol got up from the bed and started collecting the pieces of toilet paper into the small bin he kept under his desk. “Have they not fought before?”

“Not really. Mingyu gets frustrated with Wonwoo sometimes, but they don’t have big fights like me and Wonwoo do.”

When he had picked up all the toiler paper, Hansol put the bin back under his desk and picked up the duvet. Seungcheol moved up the bed as Hansol spread the duvet out over him, then lying face down on the bed himself.

“I didn’t think you and Wonwoo fought.”

Seungcheol laughed. “We fight a lot. They’re big fights, but they’re never serious, you know? Like at the end of the day we still love each other so it’s never too serious.”

“Like siblings?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any but I imagine that’s what it’s like.”

Hansol put his head on Seungcheol’s chest, draping an arm over his torso. “Me and my sister fight heaps, but we don’t even have to apologise for the argument to be over. You have the fight, you yell at each other, you storm off, then you tell them a joke five minutes later and everything’s fine.”

“Sounds about right.” Seungcheol pulled Hansol closer to him and kissed the top of his head. “Sorry all of this is going on, I know it’s a lot to handle.”

Hansol shook his head. “It’s okay, I’m more worried about you lot. I’m doing fine.”

Seungcheol pulled Hansol into his lap, circling his arms around him and forming a sort of protective shell. Hansol froze, trying to figure out what was going on, only speaking when Seungcheol started sniffling.

“Cheol?”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I think I’m protecting you?”

Hansol shifted a little. “From what?”

“Everything,” his voice was ragged and he sniffed again.

Hansol sat up, forcing Seungcheol to uncurl from around him. When Hansol saw his face, it was wet with a steady stream of tears, his eyes bloodshot and his lip trembling. Hansol placed his hands either side of his face.

“Cheol, what’s wrong?”

Seungcheol closed his eyes and held his breath.

“Baby?”

With that, Seungcheol collapsed forwards onto Hansol’s chest and started to wail, his whole body heaving. Hansol repositioned them so that he was lying on his side, cradling Seungcheol in his arms and playing with his hair. Seungcheol’s body was limp, his sobs taking control of his muscles.

Hansol made a hushing sound and kissed Seungcheol’s hair. “It’s okay, get it out, I’ll wait, you’re okay.” He repeated this like a mantra as Seungcheol cried until he couldn’t cry anymore.

When he was done, Seungcheol rolled to lie on his back. Hansol reached for what was left of the toilet roll and passed it to Seungcheol, who used it to blow his nose and mop up his tears.

“Cheol, what happened?”

Seungcheol sighed in a way that indicated he wanted to keep crying but had used up all his energy. “It’s a long story.”

“We have all night, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s just,” he held his breath again, “it’s been three years today.”

Hansol shuffled closer and slung his arm of Seungcheol’s torso. “Three years since what?”

“Since Hanbin.”

Hansol frowned, trying to remember if Seungcheol had mentioned the name before. “Who’s Hanbin?”

Seungcheol closed his eyes, dislodging a tear that ran into his hairline. “He was my boyfriend.”

This threw Hansol, because Seungcheol had never mentioned any past boyfriends. Although he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him, as he knew that Seungcheol had experience.

He lightly kissed Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes. I mean,” he sighed, “I know I should, but it hurts.”

Hansol rubbed his stomach in a way he hoped was soothing. “Take your time, I’ll be here.”

It was a while before Seungcheol spoke, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before he finally started.

“Hanbin and I pretty much grew up together, like our parents were friends. Wanted us to be each others best man or whatever. But,” he furrowed his brows, “I don’t know how it happened, it just kinda did.”

“What, you two dating?”

“Yeah, you know he was my best friend and my first kiss when we were like eight. We were too young to know it wasn’t normal and we spent pretty much all our time together and held hands and shared beds. I think we were fifteen when we realised we were in love. Pretty soon after that we figured out we weren’t allowed to be.”

Hansol’s hand moved up to Seungcheol’s chest and he started to draw shapes. “That must’ve been scary.”

“Terrifying. You’ve met Mikyung; pretty much everyone in our town’s like that. We had to be careful and hide it. Of course we told Wonwoo, because he was in our group of three and it didn’t seem fair to keep it from him. That was scary at the time.”

“But it was fine right? I mean judging by the fact you live together with his boyfriend.”

Seungcheol laughed weakly. “Yeah, he cried and thanked us because he’d wanted to come out for a few years but was too scared. So we were a happy, gay little trio.” He took a deep breath. “Then Wonwoo came out to his mum and got sent to conversion therapy and it was just the two of us, which was weird for a while. But he came back, and he was different but he was still Wonwoo, so it was fine.”

Hansol did the maths in his head. “So we’re up to four years ago, right?”

“Yeah.”

Hansol kissed his shoulder again. “You don’t have to rush.”

“Thanks, it’s okay. So the three of us were still friends, all hiding in the closet together. But we figured we could go to the same university all of us together and that way we wouldn’t have to hide from anyone, be away from our parents and just be gay freely.”

Hansol was about to ask if he had met Hanbin, but Seungcheol continued.

“Those first three months were so good.” He was smiling wide, looking up at the ceiling. “We were nineteen and gay and in love and it felt like we had everything figured out. Everything was good.

“This was back in the early days of The Shop, before it was even The Shop; we were just selling out of our pockets. Wonwoo was still running errands like he is now, because he’s a scary looking guy and we all know I’m too soft. But then Mikyung came to visit and they went out for lunch and there was something on the other side of town.” He thought for a moment, Hansol still tracing shapes on his chest. “I don’t even remember what it was, but Wonwoo was still out and Hanbin,” his voice faltered and he cleared his throat. “Hanbin said he would do it.

“I tried to stop him, tell him I could go or we could wait for Wonwoo, but he told me to stop worrying.” He sighed, shutting his eyes. “I’m so glad I told him I loved him. I’m so glad I did that because.” He held his breath and let it out, holding it again then letting it out. “He died.”

Hansol felt himself start to cry, simply upset by seeing Seungcheol so distraught. “Cheol, I’m so sorry that’s, that’s fucking awful.”

Seungcheol finally turned his head and looked at Hansol, his voice just a ragged whisper. “I had to lie to his parents. I had to tell them that he was just my friend, that he was caught in the crossfire of something we didn’t know about. In my eulogy, I couldn’t even say that I was in love with him. I had to lie even after he died.”

Hansol placed his hand softly on Seungcheol’s cheek, wiping at his tears as Seungcheol melted into the touch. “You blame yourself.”

He already knew the answer, but that did little to stop the breaking of his heart as Seungcheol nodded.

“You shouldn’t – don’t interrupt me – you shouldn’t blame yourself. I know you do and it’s hard and you can’t get rid of that survivor’s guilt, but you couldn’t have done anything.”

“I could’ve gone instead, it could’ve been me.”

“But then I wouldn’t have met you,” Hansol’s voice was wavering. “I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn’t have –” he bit his lip but finished his sentence. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

Seungcheol sniffed loudly. “You’ve fallen in love with me?”

“Well, yeah I mean.” He felt heat creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. “I kinda thought we both had. You said it on the phone today.”

Seungcheol turned onto his side, taking both of Hansol’s hands in his. “Don’t, don’t. I do love you.” He pressed their kips together several times. “I do I do I was just scared you didn’t love me.”

Hansol giggled against his lips. “Of course I love you, don’t be ridiculous.”

They let one of the kisses last a bit longer before Hansol pulled away. “I’m really sorry about Hanbin.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth but thought better and just smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ll try to stop telling you not to worry so much.”

Seungcheol breathed out hard, his breath warm on Hansol’s face. “Thank you.”

“You need food and rest,” Hansol said, rolling off the bed and going to get some cup noodles from the cupboard.

When they had finished their noodles, they put the cups next to the ones from the previous night. They didn’t bother changing as they got under the covers.

Seungcheol held Hansol against his chest and kissed him just behind his ear. “I love you so much.”

Hansol squeezed his hand as their fingers intertwined. “I love you too, Cheol.”