#so yes this motherfucker is indeed. an hour long

[arcaneyouth]

FNAF VIDEO ESSAY IS REALLY CLOSE TO BEING DONE JUST GIVE ME 1 MORE WEEK AT THE LATEST

[mrs-monaghan]

Do you have a video for the bv4 instance that you guys mentioned where jk had to collect himself?

Hello my dear. Mizgator our queen of analysis talks about it here starting from the 14:12 minute mark. She explains the sexual tension though but doesn't bring up the footsie. So it will be my pleasure 😁😁😁

First of all. Here is JK shamelessly turning on his man. Before we continue there's a few things you have to understand. BTS were on break and Jimin went to Paris and Hawaii while JK stayed in SK. (Yes they saw eo for a few hours for JK's surprise bday but I'm sure it wasn't enough. No way) So they didn't see eo much. And BV 4 started like as soon as Jimin landed. Like he came home the day before and then the next day they were shooting BV4 ep 1. So my guess is, Jikook had not...... well. They had not. Alright? Not for a while anyway. So a simple footsie like that, would have driven anyone crazy. Especially if your sex life is usually off the chain. Which by some of the things we have accidentally witnessed, I think its safe to say Jikook know how to have fun.

JK said yes. He enjoyed having his hands tied during ON 😏😏

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Now I'm not saying these motherfuckers are kinky, but that's exactly what I'm saying 🙈

Okay. So anon this is the sequence. JK's toes are proper digging into his boyfriend's leg. And Jimin can pretend he is not paying attention because he's busy talking, but that man can feel every, single, press of what JK is doing

If you watch the video I linked above JK was proper pressing in on Jimin's leg. There is no way to ignore that.

Then suddenly Jhope asks Jimin;

And that's when JK gets up to leave. He was like; babe, you're on your own 🤣 And Jimin answers while looking at JK who is leaving;

Jhope for some reason keeps probing. 😂😂Note RM has his eyes on JK. This man knows Jikook and knows them very well. He was sus of JK and that's why he's watching him.

Lets keep in mind that indeed this room was actually very hot. SOPE switched seats because it was too hot. So keep in mind that this room is HOT. Okay? It's important.

So after getting the 3rd degree from Hobi as to why he was hot or if he was embarassed, Jimin gives the game away by looking at the Jimcock. Now this, is what let me know the dude was in hornyland.

What are u looking at Jimin? 🧐 what did JK do to you? 🤭🤭 So anyway, the culprit comes back with a whole ass coat on. Remember how we said the room was hot? Yeah.... why does JK have a coat on??

So anon like u mentioned, here is where Jikookers think JK went to the bathroom or outside to cool off/collect himself because he was hard. But I, think JK went to grab this coat so he could cover the Jungkonda. He didn't leave for long and when he came back he worked real hard to keep that place covered. So mans was still h.a.r.d

Moving on swiftly, Jimin pulls a Suga, and refuses to look up during the group toast.

Gee, I wonder why 🤔

So I know Jikook were sharing a room. Now while I believe they cuddled and then went back to their respective beds in the morning for shooting, I dont believe that's where the love making took place. I believe it was in the RV outside. No one was was using it and everyone was inside and they could be as loud as they wanted get all the privacy they needed. It had been a while. Privacy was required 😉

Damn. See why I said this blog aint for underage peeps? Anyway. Jikook is real.

[cleolinda]

Varney the Vampire: Chapter 11

Chapter 10: A wild Charles Holland appears!

A brief unexpected hiatus there for a week or so. Onward!

If you're just joining us, an ancestral vampyre has been victimizing fair maiden Flora Bannerworth, and it is the worst thing that has ever happened to her brothers Henry and George. Truly, nothing could be worse than having a sister bitten by a vampyre; let us mope upon it in the family crypt with some friends. The friends have matches. Meanwhile, Flora just shot the motherfucker.

CHAPTER XI.

THE COMMUNICATION TO THE LOVER. -- THE HEART'S DESPAIR.

As I've said, you can summarize Varney the Vampire very concisely if you really want to. In this chapter, Henry takes Flora's newly-returned kinda-fiancé aside and explains him a thing. Less concisely: That thing is a vampyre, one Ancestor von Spookyportrait, who keeps preying on Flora and repeatedly getting his hapless ass shot for it. But what you have to understand is, there is not a goddamn thing about Varney the Vampire that is concise. I would even argue that the spirit of verbosity—the baroque grammatical vibe, if you will—is more the point of this godforsaken thing than the actual plot is.

Consternation is sympathetic, and any one who had looked upon the features of Charles Holland, now that he was seated with Henry Bannerworth, in expectation of a communication which his fears told him was to blast all the dearest and most fondly cherished hopes for ever, would scarcely have recognised in him the same young man who, one short hour before, had knocked so loudly, and so full of joyful hope and expectation, at the door of the hall.

I myself am long-winded. Game recognizes game.

It would be one thing, Charles Holland thinks to himself, if Flora were just a trifling-ass strumpet. At least then he could get mad about it, his pride would shield him—but no, he is convinced that his angelic maiden fair back there is trying to protect him from something. As he should be, because it's not like it was hard to tell or anything.

Happier would it at that time have been to Charles Holland had she acted capriciously towards him, and convinced him that his true heart's devotion had been cast at the feet of one unworthy of so really noble a gift.

James Malcolm Rymer really builds up what a sterling hero—verily, a textbook cinnamon roll—Charles Holland is. At first you might think Charles Holland is his cherished self-insert, or maybe Rymer is even a little in love with him, as perhaps all writers should be with our own characters. But if I remember correctly, there's a more interesting reason he does this. But I get ahead of myself (my favorite thing to do).

But now he was to hear all. Henry had promised to tell him, and as he looked into his pale, but handsomely intellectual face, he half dreaded the disclosure he yet panted to hear.

Okay, “panting,” Rymer, don't be weird about it. Also, please use some names in this paragraph; I am pretty sure that Charles Holland is the Pale But Handsome one, which renders this "he" salad nonsensical.

Charles Holland begs to be told the truth! Henry avers that he will tell it, no matter how dubious or strange! Speak truly, Charles Holland, did you indeed hear Flora breaking up with you two pages ago? Why, yes, of course I did, Henry, I did! Then you will be shocked my sister broke up with you! Forsooth, I am! You know who actually wrote this? I've figured it out—energy vampire Colin Robinson.

Because just the act of describing this is sucking my will to live, and I'm not even sure why. Like, it's fine? It's not terribly onerous to read? It's just... so... it feels so much like long covid fatigue, I can't even tell you. NO! We can do this!

"She was right. She is a noble-hearted girl for uttering those words. A dreadful incident in our family has occurred, which might well induce you to pause before uniting your fate with that of any member of it."

Hold onto that "don't unite your fate with ours" thought, because it's an ugly one and we'll get to it. Right now, Charles Holland declares that nothing can ever change his feelings for Flora, ain't no mountain high enough, so on and so forth. What change of fortune could have occurred for Henry to think so?

"I will tell you, Holland. In all your travels, and in all your reading, did you ever come across anything about vampyres?"

Ah, shit, here we go.

"You may well doubt the evidence of your own ears, Charles Holland, and wish me to repeat what I said several more times. I say, do you know anything about vampyres?"

They go back and forth a while about the shocking fact of believing such a shocking fact, but finally, Henry has processed his circumstances: he, Henry von Spookyportrait Beaumont Bannerworth III, is experiencing the worst thing humanity has ever endured:

"Listen to me, and do not interrupt me. You shall know all, and you shall know it circumstantially." Henry then related to the astonished Charles Holland all that had occurred, from the first alarm of Flora, up to that period when he, Holland, caught her in his arms as she was about to leave the room.

I am fucking shocked that Rymer did not have Henry recap this at actual length. "And approximately four to five people also saw all of this!" And Rymer does not have all of those people file in and give sworn testimony in real time. Like, that's surely an entire mortgage payment he just passed up, or else he got into a fistfight with his publisher and lost.

"You bewilder me, utterly," said Charles Holland. "As we are all bewildered." "But -- but, gracious Heaven! it cannot be." "It is." "No -- no. There is -- there must be yet some dreadful mistake."

"No, no! By Heaven, no!" "Yes, Charles. Reflect upon the consequences now of a union with such a family."

Wait, Henry, what the fuck do you mean by that?

"That one who has been visited by a vampyre, and whose blood has formed a horrible repast for such a being, becomes, after death, one of the dreadful race, and visits others in the same way."

Two points:

What are the Vampire Rules in Varney the Vampire? We now know that it only takes (one?) bite to infect someone with vampirism—no exchange of vampire blood is needed. Allegedly. Rymer will probably forget about this.

"Dreadful race" is a real interesting word to use about something that is supernaturally contagious rather than hereditary. On the other hand, Rymer's been implying that Varney is Flora's ancestor, hasn't he? The shame of vampirism is in both her bloodline and, now, her actual blood.

At the same time, here comes the ugly thought to unpack. [Content note: mental health ableism, undescribed self harm and suicide in fiction, racism. If you'd like to skip this very long section, scroll down/search for "Charles Holland is a man of action."]

For decades if not centuries (and, I would argue, still today as well), there have been persistent ideas that mental health issues 1) inevitably led to violence and chaos; 2) were inevitably hereditary; and 3) weren't exclusive to "impure" bloodlines, but, short version: "savagery," colonialism, racism. And all this coalesces into the idea of the Family Stain. In a book like Jane Eyre, published the same year as the collected Varney, Charlotte Brontë evokes a family who "tricks" Rochester into marrying a woman coded as biracial who has apparently inherited a family mental illness. In this character, Charlotte Brontë chooses to identify insanity with violence (and, implicitly, with race), to the point that imprisoning Bertha in an attic is presented as "merciful." And honestly, given the state of mental healthcare up through the 20th century, given the real-life prevalence of this identification, it probably was. This is the cultural foundation beneath Henry's warning of "the consequences of such a union."

But let's delve deeper into the word "consequences." There's also a Louisa May Alcott serial from her "blood and thunder" days called "A Nurse's Story" (1865), and while it was published twenty years after Varney the Vampire, it makes those assumed consequences explicit: point #2 above, the inevitable "curse" of mental illness spreading to a patient's children. (I want to stop here and tell you that I'm bipolar. Medicated, very stable, not cursed. I've been very open about this for many years. I want you to read this paragraph knowing that I personally know that what follows is bullshit.) The story's narrator, Kate Snow, is hired to be the caretaker for a young woman who has started to present symptoms of the Family Stain, hereditary insanity, and has begun to self-harm as a result. By the end of the story, Elinor has actually died by suicide; I won't even go into the details because the story (dangerously) portrays her death as a tragic but noble act.

Elinor also has two older brothers who have sworn to die single (one has become a priest; the other is self-medicating with unspecified substance abuse, probably alcohol), so that they don't pass the family illness to any children. Unfortunately, there is a fourth sibling, Amy, who is determined to keep the secret and marry. (She dies within two years of her wedding, reports the epilogue.) Even better, there's a second family stain—the siblings are all actually illegitimate, because their father has a living first wife that he abandoned! And his son from that marriage, when not busy blackmailing the family, falling in love with Kate, and twirling his mustache, will also develop the hereditary insanity!

I'll be real with you, I actually love this story. It's got the psychological screw-turns that make a lot of Alcott's Very Problematic guilty pleasure stories so engaging, and (aside from the ableist premise rotting there at the core), the characters are portrayed with compassion. Kate stays with the family, villainous legitimate son included, as a loyal friend; the initial setup with Elinor was apparently based on Alcott's own experiences as a nurse/companion, and she has a great deal more sympathy for her characters than a lot of gothic-leaning writers. What "A Nurse's Story" illustrates for us, though, is how concretely mental illness was viewed as a family stain on the level of an original sin, something no one will ever escape, that will make even the kindest people erupt in violence, and something that must be prevented from propagating at all costs.

Like I said, though: I'm bipolar. I of all people know that these tropes are bullshit, and dangerous bullshit at that. I still love this story. Jane Eyre is one of my favorite books. We contain multitudes; we just also have to critique those multitudes. That's why I'm here writing thousands of words about this absurd vampire serial in the first place.

Now: let's take those ideas and jump back over to Varney:

"There may be insanity in this family," thought Charles, with such an exquisite pang of misery that he groaned aloud.

There may be insanity in this family, thought the potential father of Flora's children.

"Already," added Henry, mournfully, "already the blighting influence of the dreadful tale is upon you, Charles. Oh, let me add my advice to Flora's entreaties. She loves you, and we all esteem you; fly, then, from us, and leave us to encounter our miseries alone. Fly from us, Charles Holland, and take with you our best wishes for happiness which you cannot know here." "Never," cried Charles; "I devote my existence to Flora. I will not play the coward, and fly from one whom I love, on such grounds. I devote my life to her."

You're probably wondering why I brought racism up as well, ten million words ago. Well, because I think Rymer has given us visual cues as to why the noble Charles Holland is right to remain loyal to Flora. She's been coded as immune to any kind of metaphorical "stain," whether she's covered in blood or not. Look back at the very first chapter:

Now she moves, and one shoulder is entirely visible -- whiter, fairer than the spotless clothing of the bed on which she lies, is the smooth skin of that fair creature

Rymer intends us to understand Flora is intrinsically worthy of her fiancé's devotion: she is as white as the spotless bedlinen that she's being fetishized on. And I wish this were only a visual metaphor using the color spectrum of electromagnetic light, but I think we all know that the Victorians were racist as fuck. Readers of 1847 would have understood, consciously or not, the assurance of Flora's "fairness" that way. She's whiter than white; she might die nobly, but Charles Holland won't have to stuff her in the attic.

What I want to critique in this serial, to separate out, is to what extent Flora is presented as a heroine because of her whiteness, and to what extent that comes from her actions, such as shooting a vampire while everyone else is moping around a crypt. I think it could be incredibly useful to identify this, especially if you yourself are a writer, and infinitely more so if you are (like me) a white writer, to study what kind of bullshit you want to avoid in your work. (For that matter, ableism is another form of bullshit to to examine and avoid.) I'm going to be honest with you, writing about Twilight taught me more about characterization than any of the dozen writing classes I ever took, because I sat down on Livejournal and observed every single thing that I thought made Bella Swan annoying as hell, or Edward Cullen creepy as fuck (what I should have observed more: the werewolf "lore" being destructively racist), and I made mental notes: Do the Opposite of That. Now that I've found myself here in the middle of these tropes, that's what we're going to do. And if anyone ever adapts this for television, I would recommend that they cast Flora as a different race, but with the exact same "gentle maiden" personality, and portray a purity and sweetness that have nothing to do with skin color, no matter what Hunger Games fans thought.

But back to the story. Charles Holland is a man of action. Charles Holland has plans.

"Look you here, Henry: until I am convinced that some things have happened which it is totally impossible could happen by any human means whatever, I will not ascribe them to supernatural influence." "But what human means, Charles, could produce what I have now narrated to you?" "I do not know, just at present, but I will give the subject the most attentive consideration. Will you accommodate me here for a time?"

-- He is going to converse with Flora upon the subject

-- He will say nothing to add to her fears thereunto

-- He will touch base re: a paradigm shift with Henry's brother George, Mr. Marchdale, and Mr. Dr. Chillingworth to move the needle on some core competencies

-- He will tell Henry to buck up, until yea, Henry does rejoice in his command of executive function

And Charles Holland is able to do all this because Henry unwittingly Said A Thing: if there's "such a weight of evidence in favour of a belief in the existence of vampyres" that they are compelled to believe in their local ancestral vampyre, CHILLINGWORTH—then that means they can catch it. "It consists," not to put too fine a point on it, "of a revivified corpse," and in that case, Charles Holland would like a motherfucker to try it:

"By Heaven! if ever I catch a glimpse of any such thing, it shall drag me to its home, be that where it may, or I will make it prisoner."

FROM THE DESK OF CHARLES HOLLAND - ACTIONABLE ITEMS

-- The squad will take turns watching over Flora

-- All intrepid protectors will be ready to defend her, potentially with swords and/or crowbars

-- They will have the means of alerting the entire household to any unregulated vampyring

-- There will be a healthy and well-balanced schedule to make sure no one is overly deprived of sleep

-- He's gonna have a roster and everything

-- Forsooth, where is the coffee pot

Meanwhile, Henry's like, oh thank God, someone who knows what he's doing. When Charles Holland says he wants to sleep in the Vampyre Room, in hopes that maybe Sir Ancestor actually will drop by again, Henry is more than happy to show him right in.

I don't think Rymer meant this to sound as creepy as it does, but blowing up the word count by iterating over and over that Charles Holland wants to sleep in Flora's room, exactly the way she left it, with nothing removed, for reasons of his own, results in an unintended (unless...?) ick factor. Spoiler: The reason ends up being, to look at the Von Spookyportrait likeness. That's all. Probably.

In theory, Varney recaps go up on Fridays. I'd like to have the next one up before Dracula Daily kicks off again on May 5th. Send thoughts and vamprayers to me.

Varney the Vampire masterpost

[softcarebears]

he thought of me and wanted to give me divali cakes....but since he was at his aunt's house he forgot to pack it his bag to give it to me at school (i texted him about his ex-crush's new horrible ass haircut...bro looks like a juvie...ITS SO FUCKING BAD DAWG and then he told me about divali cakes) ....LIKE I WAS SHOOK LIKE OMG LIKE HE THOUGHT OF ME WHAT?? I WAS LIKE AWW POOKIE🥺BUT ALSO MOTHERFUCKER YOU HAD🌟 ONE JOB!!ONE JOB TO FULFILL AND YOU FUCKED IT UP😭.yes im updating because it has been a while lmfao.so this week we had to return our books to school and i went there myself(not obligatory to bring parents) with a heavy ass bag that shit hurt my shoulders bro😭OK SO HE WAS THERE LOOKING MAD CUTE AS HELL IN HIS GREEN SHIRT AND WHATEVER(like i wasn't expecting him to be here at the last hour since he lives pretty close to where our school is situated...so i was kinda surprised and my heart kinda skipped a beat when i saw him lol.)man i'm stepping back feminism by simping this is not a good sign;this is not so girlboss of me. Any ways long story short i waved at him but he did not notice...so i got war flashbacks from that time during exam season when i greeted him and he ignored me 2 TIMES AND THE THING IS THAT HE SAW ME...WE CROSSED DIRECTIONS LIKE 3 TIMES DEADASS(i was embarassed as hell...kinda mad at him too)he kept looking at me and we made eye contact a few times while he was talking to his friends i did not talk to him and gave him his space and talked to some classmates of my own...it was a bit awkward at times so i looked at my phone to pretend that i was not a freak or smth and during eyecontact sometimes he changed his eye directions to act as if he wasn't looking or that looking at something else(maybe he indeed wasn't).BUT WHILE HE WAS RETURNING HIS BOOKS AND WHILE I WAS WAITING FOR MY CLASSMATE TO FINISH INSIDE THE ROOM SINCE IT WAS MY TURN AFTER...I SAW HIM GLANCE AT ME AND THEN LOOK AWAY QUICKLY (because i'm a hottie ofc/j)...he did that twice or thrice idrk...bro was not slick at all...HONESTLY MAYBE HE WAS LOOKING AT SOMEONE BEHIND ME OR NEXT TO ME OR DIAGONAL FROM ME BUT I DONT THINK SO YOUR HONOUR🤭 .after he was done he tried to look for his friend for like 5sec and then came ot talk to me...he talked about his hectic and tiring day the day before since it was divali yknow and then his friend came and stood like this 🚹 for a fat minute and then he said bye.Moral of the story guys raise your standards for someone who is willing to you divali cakes😳😩😋.

[arlecchno]

5 hours of sleep squad …. i honestly dont know how well i sleep but today i had a dream and alhaitham and kaveh were in it (i only got to chat w haitham tho) i was in this gigantic ass library type thing and it looked so cool , the entire thing was made out of dark brown wood and it was so pretty (i actually had another dream where i was in the same building before where i was running errands around the “school” HAHAH) but yeah since it was a library / school type place i was obviously there to learn shiz and — this is the weird part — the lesson was on dreams !!!!!!! and like bro ?? are my dreams becoming self aware ? 😨 i thought the lesson was interesting but alhaitham tried to gaslight me into not liking it (an exaggeration , he just thought i was lying when i said it was interesting) i think he was supposed to be like ,,, a helper to me in the dream idfk it was funky as hell - sorry for going off on a tangent about my dream LMFAO

WHSJSJ fischl is my baby shes one of the first 4*s i got and i kinda relate to her on some level , i too love playing pretend , but mostly when i was younger id pretty much spend all my recess roleplaying with my friends . trying to imitate my favorite characters is a pastime ive always enjoyed , and it honestly makes me insanely happy when people say i kinda act like my faves (ig its smth i do subconsciously LOL) because its like “WAIT . THEY THINK IM LIKE THIS INSANELY COOL CHARACTER I LOVE WITH A BURNING PASSION ???? [inaudible screaming]” recently ive found myself a new genshin rp friend and . dude . id never have thought that playing as alhaitham would be so goddamn fun . screenies for funnies:

(making cynos joke was so much fun too so i included it)

bro i lost my mf 50/50 to jeAN on haithams banner - not even a diluc , tall men hate me ig LMAO and it really doesnt help that ive been drained as hell from school lately so ive been slacking w my fricking primo farming ;_;

YESS the fungi event was lovely but tbh … the entire event i was just yelling about how i wanted to see cyno HAHAHAH - i suffer with chronic writers block (/hj) so . like . [dead alex sound]

GREAT NEWS my injury has healed hooray !!

absolutely , escaping school is great , id probably go on more field trips if it didnt mean id have to do makeup work tbh , i hate doing makeup work .

DINGDINGDING ! YOU ARE CORRECT ! the region i was going for was indeed mondstadt ! aster (my oc) lives in mond and is originally from khaenriah , im glad i didnt draw in their face yet because their eyes wouldve totally given away the fact they were khaenriahn LOL

my week was honestly pretty busy (atleast to my tiny brains standards , i feel like you could also tell by how long it took me to send another ask 😭😭) i had two tests today (that i frickin ACED HAHA im so proud of myself) one of my friends and some guy i share a bunch of classes with also gave me pieces of their cotton candy and the guy told me good job for actually doing my work LMFAO (i usually fall asleep in that class … haha ,,) and one of my other friends complained about also wanting food so i called him friendless (even though i thought the guy who gave me a piece of cotton candy didnt like me so i dont think he counts as a friend ??) my friend also recently introduced me to a series they liked and now im practically obsessed because DELICIOUS . i also recently did heizous hangout quest and GODDAMN he - he is so . im so gay for this detective motherfucker i was practically screaming at my ipad … haha …… heizou is honestly so my type he has such a way with words and i DO NOT know why a lot of npcs / characters in game talk about him negatively how do people not like him - yeah but i also almost went on a full genshin lore tangent to my ipad because of my uncontrollable urge to explain things SMH . oh my god the part where heizou said that he wanted us to be his partner all the time and i just straight up actually screamed , yes heizou ill be your partner forever if yk what i mean - HAHAHAH i also made a collection of goofy genshin triangles on one of my friends old schoolwork in math class hehe

aaaanyways id like to return your question ! how have your recent days been ? and if you dont deem anything of note or dont want to share , if you could choose anyone in genshin to share a house / be roommates with who would you choose ? (since these are again two questions , if you want , fire back two as well !) also , dude i have a terrible habit of rambling like crazy , so i totally dont mind if you ramble and stuff in replies (because i do that wayy too much as well LOL)

— jellyfish

HELLOO TO YOU!!!! your dream sounds so funny LOL in the 2 years i've played genshin i've never had any genshin characters appear in my dreams,,, it's always boring ones that revolve around my life. but nevertheless your dream made me imagine how alhaitham would act around you 😭 and the way he tried to gaslight you LMAO he's so cute and goofy

haha i love how enthusiastic you are about fischl!!! we all have that one character that we have an undying love for to the point that everyone you know in life knows them (for me that'd be kazuha,, every time someone sees him it'd just remind them of me hehe)

THE RPS LMAO “i just find you rather annoying.” THAT'S SUCH AN ALHAITHAM THING TO SAY!!! also i'm pretty oblivious so this just made me realize that the denial is a river in egypt tiktok meme is also pointing out the fact that the nile. is a river. in egypt???? i just found out it's a wordplay thing???? denial (the nile)???? damn i really thought it's like a random word being thrown to make it seem exaggerated or something 😭😭😭 i'm really dumb LMAO how did i not figure that out sooner 🙁🙁🙁 the fact that i know the nile is a river in egypt is embarrassing too like it never occurred to me to piece the puzzles together...

man that sucks 😭😭 i remember when you messaged me on genshin talking about it LOL please humbly accept my offer of my c2 diluc to you,,, he's been in my hands far too long and i cannot fathom the fact that he keeps appearing in my 50/50's (tighnari pls come home i beg). i was on a 50/50 for haitham too and the very loud sigh of relief i let out when he finally came home is insane. i've basically farmed everything in the new area (i have 99% exploration progress now due to it) and have milked my welkin for him so i'm glad he actually came home... the things i'd do if diluc appeared in screen instead should be left unsaid 🤗

YAYY GLAD TO HEAR YOU'RE WELL NOW!!!

aster is such a badass name and the fact that they're originally from khaenriah???? awesome as hell. hope they're besties with kaeya because that would be totally legen... wait for it, dary!!!! (cue my love for barney in himym i just had to quote him)

also very glad to see that your week has been going okay!!! would love some cotton candy rn tbh they're so good </3

and heizou's hangout quest.... honestly same. i haven't exactly finished all of the endings but i've done some and it made me squeal and giggle every time he flirted with us 😭 made me feel like a total loser with his charming words bro i can't believe the npcs in game have such negative views on him because me personally if i was in the game, i'd immediately fold for him the second he breathes in front of me HAHA i'm . not weird at all.

my week has been slow actually, i finished my finals a while ago so we have nothing to do now so i've been doing absolutely nothing at school LOL! senior year is coming up soon so i might be more busy and focusing more on my studies... it's sure gonna be hell for me.

and recently i've been packing up my stuff because i'm moving out!! (hence why i haven't posted a new asphodelus chapter lol i've been so busy). it's been rather slow for me tho since i have a lot of stuff and it's kinda hard to choose the ones i'd have to throw or give away because like,, i love all of my stuff 😭 my mom has helped me with some but i still got a shit ton of stuff to declutter. basically everything is a mess rn

other than that, i think everything's been a-okay! i'm just reaally busy with irl stuff now but i think i can survive through them :D (i hope i do because i am one inch away from going insane). also my mom's been trying to convince me to drive lately since i'm supposed to start now but i have been avoiding it,,, it's scary being on the road and i am far from ready to risk my life 😔

as for your question, i think out of everyone, i'd choose kazuha. before you say anything, i'm trying to not be as biased as i can since like kazuha is my favourite character ever— but yeah, i think i can accept the terms of living with the kaedehara kazuha. he's such a nice guy and although he's a very very lightweight and behind all that charming looks he's a pretty scary guy himself (cue that scene where he threatened that treasure hoarder in the archon quest that he'd brand his forehead with hot iron) i think i could actually survive living with him. he'd do his set of chores, i'd do mine, everyone gets their happy ending. if i were to live with my other favs like kuni and alhaitham i think i would just die. kuni would be rude as fuck and alhaitham would just bully his way out from doing our shared chores. i cannot deal with them. (i'm sorry my sweethearts i'll do you two justice one day)

time to give a question to you!!! how's your progress in genshin going? (it can be exploration wise, storyline, anything) and what's your current main genshin team rn :0

hope you're having a great day!!! it was fun talking with you hehe i've been dying to get an ask since the blog has been real quiet lately, and i'm glad it's you! have a wonderful day ahead :P

[eldritchsurveys]

1216.

Is your closet disorganized? >> It's not disorganised, it's very organised, it just looks chaotic because it's a small wooden wardrobe that I have to somehow fit all of my clothes into. I can't figure out a way to make it look any better than it does. Have you ever been to Times Square? >> Many, many times. I have fond memories of being there in the wee hours of the morning with the crew. We were all so far removed from what is considered "normal" life, including "normal" reckoning of time... it is enviable. Being domesticated may indeed be safer and healthier, and I don't think I want to go back to that urban-wildling lifestyle (I don't even think I could, I'm not suited for it anymore, and so much of it depended on frequent drug use which I definitely cannot do anymore, physically and otherwise), but sometimes... sometimes, the nostalgia and the complicated grief that perpetuates it is overpowering.

Do you like to cuddle with your S.O. or do you prefer your space? .

What TV shows do you watch on a regular basis? >> Nothing that is currently airing, but I'm leisurely making my way through about 10 shows right now -- Riverdale, Stargate SG-1, Twin Peaks, Person of Interest, The Wire, Frasier, Vanitas no Carte, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Fruits Basket. Oh, that's 9 shows.

Have you ever accidentally left something valuable at a shop before? >> Not in recent memory.

Does it make someone a racist if they’re not attracted to a specific race? >> That is not how I understand racism. Attraction can indeed be informed by one's prejudices, but on the flip side, there are plenty of bigots who are also very into the idea of fucking the people they're bigoted towards. Who someone wants to fuck is not at all a reliable litmus test for whether they respect those same people and the cultures they belong to.

What makes your life remarkable? >> I don't know. The fact that I exist at all, I guess.

Are you putting off doing anything that you really need to get done? >> Not right now. I'm actually kind of shit at procrastination, sitting in that state of anxiety and dread is actually more painful than just doing the thing.

What is the last thing you scribbled down on a Post-It note? .

What are you currently listening to? >> A MyNoise preset to block out upstairs noise.

How would you react in discovering your best friend was seriously obsessed with you? >> I don't have one of those, but in general, I'd need more information than this. What connotation of "obsessed" is being used here? For example, if by "obsessed" you mean they're just super into me in a way that is more on the limerence/romantic ideation side of things, that's fine, I suppose. We'd have to talk about what that means for our relationship, and it could either be a good or bad thing, depending on how I feel about them and how well they manage complicated feelings, I guess. But if by "obsessed" you mean they want to eat my organs, well.............. honestly, that's not a dealbreaker either, I wouldn't entirely mind being part of a Hannibal/Will type dynamic-- My point is, context matters. Also I may end up setting myself up to be serial killed one day.

Do you care if your produce is organic or not? >> I don't, except in the sense that I don't want to buy organic products because they cost more.

Do you have any children? If so, how old were you when you had them? If not, do you think you ever will? >> I do not and I never will.

Do you eat meat? >> Infrequently, but yes.

Do you get enough calcium? >> I don't know. I haven't had labs done in a long time.

Do you think before you act or speak? >> For the most part. Sometimes my responses come from a deeper place than my cognition.

Do you have a SwagBucks account? >> I do, because shit like that is my only source of money.

Are you nosy? >> I can be. I like knowing things. Not even for the sake of using the information for anything, I'm just a curious motherfucker.

Do you always try on clothes before purchasing them? >> I hate doing it but I have to. Off-the-rack clothing is my enemy. Is there anything in your closet with the tags still on? >> There is not.

Are you happy with the size of your bedroom? >> I am very happy with it, it's so big.

Do you add people you don’t actually know on Facebook? >> I don't do that.

What’s your favorite condiment? >> Hmm. Hot honey, maybe. Or umami seasoning. I put those on almost everything. Honourable mention to chili crunch oil.

Would you even want to know how much of your life has been spent online? >> As mentioned, I am always curious about things so sure why not, but I don't think this information would be useful in any way. Do you shop at American Eagle? >> I do not.

List 5 things you’re afraid of: >> Incarceration, prolonged terminal illness, idk.

Have you forgotten anything important recently? >> I completely forgot that I saw a whole ass ballet earlier this year. This is really becoming a running theme.

Would you say you’re an honest person? >> I would say that I am much more likely to be honest than I am to be deceitful, mainly because there's rarely times when being deceitful would be of greater benefit to me. However, it would be a mistake to assume that I will always be honest about everything, ever.

The last Facebook message you received from the opposite sex, what did it say? .

What does the nicest message in your Facebook inbox say? .

Is your best friend single? .

What color was the ink of the last pen you wrote with? >> Black. What does your pencil-case look like? .

Where was the last place you went that was totally new to you, as in, it was the first time you’d been there? >> Hmm... the food pantry I started going to, maybe?

When was the last time you used someone else’s computer? >> February, when I built Sparrow's PC.

Who do you dislike the most? Explain what you dislike about that person. .

What’s the longest you’ve liked someone without doing anything about it? .

Do you use straightening irons on your hair? What brand? >> I do not.

What’s the relationship status of the last person you talked to? .

Is there anything you would like to complain about? >> Not right now. What’s the first line of the last song you listened to? >> "Two hands on the back wall, we're going through your mind." (Royal Thunder, Floor) Think of the person from your past that hurt you the most. Is there anything you would like to say to that person? .

Does your mom like the last person you kissed? .

Now your cell phone, what color is it? >> Black.

Last text? Who was it from? .

Do you use your speed dials? >> I do not.

What was so special about today? >> Nothing.

If somebody tried to steal your best friend’s boyfriend/girlfriend, what would you do? .

What was the last thing you said to your mother? .

When was the last time you cried? >> This morning? Literally, I cry so often that I can't even keep track anymore. Wait, I think it was last night, actually.

Has anyone made you upset lately? >> No.

What are you looking forward to? >> Uh... hmm. Nothing, I guess. Various video game releases, maybe? But not really, because I just think about how I can't afford them and I'm like "oh yeah".

Does anyone completely understand you? >> Can Calah does.

Ever stayed up all night on the phone? >> I have not.

Do you miss your past? >> See my answer to the second question for a glimpse into how I feel about times long gone.

Do you have a reason to smile right now? >> Sure.

Are you a forgiving person? >> *shrug*

Do you say sorry first? >> I don’t apologise at all. If I’m inclined to be contrite about something, then I’ll show it another way.

Do you like cats? >> Not as a rule. The general obsession with cats irritates me on a visceral level, which I can't explain but I just have to live with. There is sometimes an individual cat that I will like -- Sparrow's parents have a cat named Sophia who is my bestie. (She's a calico, I tend to vibe with calicos. Similar temperaments, you know.) Has someone promised you something and broke it? >> Probably.

Did you kiss or hug anyone today? >> Well, there was Can Calah, as usual. Does your phone ring in the middle of the night? >> Even if I were to get some sort of midnight robocall, the fact that my phone is set on perma-Do Not Disturb would prevent me from knowing until the morning. Is there anybody you’re really disappointed in right now? >> There is not.

Have you ever lost someone you wish you didn’t? >> I’ve been upset about a person’s death in the past. But I’m not entirely sure I wanted him to not be dead. I just needed to adjust to the fact that it happened. Are you anything like you were a year ago? >> I’m something like I was a year ago, sure.

Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom? >> That'd be a fair description.

Would you rather spend a day outside with friends or inside alone? >> So, only one of these is an option for me--

Think back to this time last year, were you happy? >> I was whatever I was.

Has anyone upset you in the last week? >> No.

What should you be doing? >> There’s nothing specific I should be doing right now.

Describe how you feel right now in one word. >> Neutral.

What would you do if you found out one of your friends was going for the person you liked? . Do you prefer drinking water from a bottle or a sink? >> Tap water is free, I prefer the free water.

Will you ever run away and get married in Las Vegas with no notifications to either of your families? >> We did not do that. Well, I mean, I don't have a family, but Sparrow's family was definitely present at the wedding, which was incidentally in a different popular wedding destination (New Orleans).

Have you ever thrown your iPod in anger? >> Back when I had iPods, possibly. I definitely did it with CD players.

Who did you last have a heart-to-heart conversation with? >> God, I would love to have something like this. Besides my dialogues with Can Calah, which are always heart-to-heart.

Do you believe that there’s good in everybody? >> This good/evil concept is of no interest to me.

Has anything happened to you within the past month that has made you mad? >> Possibly?

Would you ever get a tattoo? >> I have three, so the answer is obviously yes. I would also get more if I could.

[87dvhnk]

"do masters' studies" they said. "your art will improve" they said. i am mortally wounded.

do you see this motherfucker? three choices. variety. obviously you could do the obvious and choose the fucker on the horse. some nice opportunities to practice the human form, shadow, hands, feet, hell, even a 75% of a fucking horse. i mean, look at those calves! but look closer.

don't be a little bitch. why not try something a little harder? look, even this motherfucker needed a guide to draw the little bastard in the bottom right. a quick little challenge. no body. just arm and hand.

so fuck that guy. let's draw this guy. this guy resting his ball sac on the back of a horse literally bare backing. he's a nice challenge. i don't need to look any deeper. let's do a quick, maybe hour-long study. : ) i'm sure i'll be as pleased as i have been with the results. : ) boy i sure can feel my skill growing. : )

two fucking hours later and four barely averted rage quits later.

I FOUGHT FOR MY FUCKING LIFE TO FINISH THIS POS. DOING IT CAUSED ME MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HARM. THERE ARE SO MANY EVILS IN THE ORIGINAL THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE UNTIL YOU'RE BALLS DEEP OH MY GOOOOD.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIS WAIST. WHERE IS THE REST OF IT. I TRIED TO BLACK IT OUT LIKE IT WAS JUST SUPER DARK SHADOW SO DARK IT WENT PLAID (DEFAULTED TO REGULAR). THIS CAN'T BE RIGHT. THIS HAS TO BE A FUCK UP.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? IS THAT MY HAND? NO, THAT'S HIS HAND. THE "MASTER'S" HAND. WHAT IS IT DOING.

AND YES THAT IS INDEED HIS BALL SAC RESTING ON THE HORSE'S FLANK LIKE TITS ON A DESK. HI, CHIEF. CHIEF. YOU THINK YOU COULD IGNORE THE COCK AND BALLS LONG ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING WITH

AND

i feel like i just came out of a back alley brawl gdi. i made it but i am badly injured and my ego is bleeding out. i am so disheartened lmfao.

[fischltao]

╔══════════════╗

AOT SQUIRTING HEADCANONS

╚══════════════╝

request by: @multi-fandoms-stuff

"can I pretty request an imagine for aot eren, erwin, levi, connie, armin, jean, reiner, bertolt, ymir, and mikasa about them making there s/o squirt for the first time and there reaction, have the reader get all shy and trys to hide her face??"

notes: ahhh thank you so much for requesting, again im very sorry for the delay and late update, im back on writing now!

warnings: smut, squirting, overstimulation, bodily fluids

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Eren Jeager:

You and Eren have got it going on for a few hours with him and his titan stamina plunging into you without letting you rest for a minute. You haven't even kept track of how long it's been or how many times he's made you cum that night, only focusing on his cock stretching you open and the way he is holding your throat. It's not long until your next orgasm arrives but oh, this time it feels different and suddenly you're squirting all over him and his cock as he keeps fucking you deeper and harder.

"Eren, I need to clean up, Im so sorry I didn't know this would happen, oh my-" You wail while pushing your hands over your face but instead of him stopping he just snaps his hips against yours harder and says:

"No. You're doing it again" Needless to say, you do, indeed.

Erwin Smith:

On your break you had snuck inside Erwin's office to steal a couple of kisses which soon ended up with you laying on the table all over his paperwork and him taking out his emotions on your poor pussy, to the point where you swear someone's going to walk in with a noise complain- not just due to your loud moans- but also due to the fact that his unsteady table is repeatedly creaking on the wooden floor.

"Erwin, I'm so close, Erwin I-ERWIN" You scream as you realize what is actually happening and not being able to hold it in. Both of you are freaking the fuck out. On any other situation he would find this really hot and treat you so good for squirting on him but you just came all over important papers which needed to be delivered awfully soon and neither has zero idea of what the hell you're supposed to do now. You freaking out must have been even louder than your sex noises and now you're adamant that everyone heard.

This was a different walk of shame

Levi Ackerman:

He had just changed the sheets to your shared bedroom when you walked in half naked after your shower, instantly igniting something inside him. The past few weeks had been really tiring for both and the only way to take your exhaustion away was having you bounce on his cock until you were in tears and shaking.

"You're gonna cum baby? I'm so fucking close too" He whispered in your ear like a lullaby in-between heavy breaths as he moved your hair out of your face and locked his eyes with yours. His movements were so gentle and passionate until you both grew desperate for your release and soon he was guiding your hips faster and sloppier while smacking your ass. It wasn't long until you started shaking while he filled you up. After you both came down from your highs you gained awareness of your surroundings and immediately shrunk to yourself.

"What are you hiding away for?"

"You just changed the sheets"

"I can always put another ones" He said awkwardly as you tried to shift away from his lap, when he pulled you right back in "It would be a shame if i changed them while they're only this wet. We might as well just ruin them completely"

Connie Springer:

Sasha and Jean were sleeping on the couch next to you after a nice dinner and Connie was feeling really turned on, right from the start of the night when you felt his fingers creeping up inside your panties and circling over your clit before teasing their way inside.

"Can we at least go somewhere isolated? I feel bad for-" You choked trying not to make a sound as his finger where now dipping in and out of your cunt in a desperate need of feeling your walls clench around them "Connie-"

"It's too comfy here, try to be more quiet baby" He whispered back as he lifted your skirt and pushed his tip inside not letting it all in but rather slipping it in and then pulling out and rubbing on your clit until you felt yourself cumming. Hard.

You were trying so hard to not make a noise until you realized what actually happened and turned around to look at your boyfriend in shock with heat rising up your cheeks. This cheeky motherfucker was looking back at you with the biggest smirk before plunging his entire length inside. Definitely proud of himself... And you definetely have to clean up before a) Jean and/or Sasha wake up b) Captain Levi haunts your dreams.

Jean Kirschstein:

Jean and you had been sent on different expenditions for the week so it was safe to say that you really missed spending time with each other. And him inside you.

Once he closes his room's door he already has you pushed against the wall and taking you right there while standing up. Jean is the romantic type but missing you made him desperate for your touch. You were sure you were seeing stars at one point, the way he pressed against you was magnificent and it just kept getting better and better until you felt the bubble inside you burst and soon your juices were everywhere on the floor. Everywhere.

You instantly felt like hiding away and audibly apologized while he still fucked the shit out of you. Confused he started slowing down and voiced his concern over your sudden apology until he realized what went down and blushed. 'Thats it, its over' you thought. Suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. A huge smile crept on his face "I made you squirt! Oh my god you look so hot, I bet Eren would never be able to make a girl sq-" He exclaimed before you kicked his leg.

Armin Arlet:

Armin is such a sweet young man. He had you laid on the bed for him as he slowly fucked into you, gasping in between kisses and telling you just how much he loves you. Gaining more confidence in yourself your moans became louder and louder and soon his pace changed into sharp and quick thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train and cherished the way he was the one to make you scream and breathe like that. He felt so blessed that you chose him as the man to have inside your velvet walls and-

Why is the bed wet? Did the rain get through the wooden roof? Why are you trying to hide away? Armin genuinely had no clue.

"Is everything okay baby? Do you feel uncomfortable with the waters?" He asked as more color rose up to your cheeks, refusing to look in his eyes as you awkwardly tried to explain what had happened was not a leak in the roof "What did you say?"

"I squirted"

"Oh"

"Yes"

"This is way more exciting than a leaking roof...Way more"

Reiner Braun:

Reiner is an emotional man and it shows when you get intimate with each other. One time he has you on all fours, with a finger deep in your asshole as he rails your guts.

"Noone else can fuck you like that fuck- what is it baby, is there anyone else that will fuck you this good? Have you crying from their cock? Use your words princess come on" He gasped as his own tears were threatening to fall, seeking emotional validation as well as pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence while sobbing "Didn't think so darling, you're such a whore for me"

And in the heat of the moment the offspring of his actions and words erupted from your throat as a loud scream and your juices squirted all over his lap for the first time. The sighting made Reiner cum in an instant and neither had the energy to talk about it, until he embraced you tightly from behind and thanked you for allowing him to be with you and sharing your most vulnerable moment with him.

Berthold Hoover:

His cock felt so good as you bounced on it . In a way it was therapeutic and for the past 7 minutes you've been in this position you've felt constantly on the edge and your thighs burned until sweet release washed you over and soon you were clasping poor Bert's shoulders as you screamed and squirted all over him while he pulled his dick out of your spent pussy and slapped its head on your clit as he watched more liquid come out.

After your orgasm died down a little, instant shame washed over you and you tried hopping away before he hugged you tightly and swayed you without realizing that hes accidentally rubbing you on his cock again and that you are about to pass out....

Ymir:

Ymir is a big tease. A really big one. Proof being her refusing to finally push her fingers inside your soaked slit, instead choosing to just rub up and down while slipping half an inch inside before you grew desperate and moved your own fingers to your clit and rubbing vigorously.

"Fuck" You heard her exclaim before plunging two of her fingers inside "Don't stop touching yourself baby, wanna make you cum like that" She commanded as her fingers dove in and out as fast as she could while you screamed under her touch. Your orgasm came fast and before you knew it, Ymir was soaking wet with your juices . "Never knew my girl could squirt, makes me wish I ate you out instead" She says before diving in.

Mikasa Ackerman:

It was a quiet night with Mika as you laid on your bed next to each other. Your conversation ended with your fingers in her pussy and hers in yours. Both struggled with the pace as you chased your release and her moans in your ear caused you to lose control and instantly let go and clench around her fingers as clear liquid soaked the sheets right beneath you and she turned her head to look at you in awe.

"I'm so sorry Mikasa I didn't know this would-"

"Do you think I can do this too?" She asked with flushed cheeks and an innocent look on her face.

"Eh? Squirt?" You asked and before she had the chance to nod you took out the dildo from your drawer and plunged it deep into her dripping pussy.

[obxjj]

the way we heal | jj maybank

- pairings: jj maybank x reader

- summary: people deal with trauma in different ways but it seems that jj thinks you don't care about the loss of your friends and deep down himself but he just needs to understand that people heal in their own time and through their own meanings, he just needed to be reassured of it. kinda pre season 2 ep 1 give ot take

- warning(s): really motherfucking angsty and swearing. mention of substance abuse

- wc: 2.2k :))))

a/n: all my fics the pogues and reader are the age 17/18 only because that's more comfortable for me to write. its been a long long time since i have wrote something so sorry for and spelling errors

People tend to deal with trauma differently. It could be resulting to crying you eyes out until you can’t breath and you can’t see through your tears clouding your eyes. Drinking until your liver wants to shut down and you whole body is so numb that yourself and everyone around you is so tuned out that you can’t function. Resulting to drugs to either feel something or not to feel anything at all. Or to have something to blame your actions on from yourself acting out simply because you don’t know how to handle the situation of a friend dying.

See you on the other hand dealt with it internally or the whim and feeling of not accepting death. Maybe it was your subconscious talking wanting you not to accept or maybe it was the gut feeling that you always got telling you that they were actually alive and have survived that storm that ‘supposedly’ had swept them away because “no body was found”.

This ‘gut feeling’ had always been right in many life or death situations. Or even just you picking out an outfit that you were unsure of whether it was going to get the boys attention that you had a crush on. It did indeed get his attention that night because that’s how you ended up loosing your virginity that night but that’s besides the point.

The best way you could describe it was like when people would do personality tests and it would ask “are you controlled by your heart or what you feel” probably not those exact words but you get the point. I felt with my feelings if my gut said yes then it was a yes.

Since the night that John B and Sarah had ‘died’ your gut had been telling you the opposite. That they were in fact not dead. As Big John use to say when you were a kid, you can never kill a Routledge. At the time it seemed like bullshit but now it was starting to grow on you.

However now your two friends were presumed dead and not everyone dealt with trauma like you did. Some would even go as far to say that you didn’t actually give a fuck that your friends were dead because you hadn’t cried or you hadn’t drunk yourself into a state of no return or resulted to smoking weed every single day and spray painted ‘murder’ on Ward Cameron’s estate. But at least Kiara wasn’t lying.

But the thing was you hadn’t cried because you couldn’t, you quite literally hated crying because it made you feel weak. Even if you tried and you tried your hardest but nothing came. At this point you could go as far as denial. This gut feeling was like getting hit by a semi truck every time a thought came into your head questioning maybe they were dead. Maybe they did get swept away at sea and never to return.

Your gut feeling was simply not letting you mourn the loss of John B and Sarah and now everyone thought you were an emotionless bitch. I mean they were right to a point but not the whole point.

So that brought you to current day driving around the Cut and night playing fucking real life Where’s Wally but its Where’s JJ Maybank because he’s blacked out drunk somewhere and now you’re on a rescue mission. Not like you had done enough of those in the last few weeks.

About an hour ago your phone rang and it was JJ asking you to come pick him up since somehow he had now idea where he had ended up and was too far gone to put together his surroundings. Well that’s what you had assumed he said since you had to decipher his slurred words.

At this point you had driven around the whole island and gone to every hid out spot that he would go smoke at or to just get away from everyday life. You had gone to all but one place. Where you avoiding that particular house because it held so many memories, plus the fact you hadn’t been near the place since shit hit rock bottom. Yes? But it was the highest chance that JJ was sitting on that dock with his legs swinging over it with a beer in hand.

Well you were right. As you walked down the old dock to where JJ was sitting it was if you could feel all the emotions, thoughts and disbelief crawling their way up your skin from the ground you were walking on. But that gut feeling was like a wave of fire, burning it all the way back to the ground.

“I don’t know why I just didn’t look here first. I should have known aye” you half heartedly said trying to keep the conversation light since you didn’t know what state JJ was going to be in. From the huff you got in response told you he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“How much have you had J?” You asked with concern but still trying to keep you voice light and less reprimanding because you knew he was in a too fragile state for you to be angry.

“Does it even matter how much Iv had. I don’t feel shit anymore” he replied back with his words straight forward and sobered.

“Well have you even given yourself a break for your body to sober up for you to even feel the effects of it? Or have you still been going since yesterday when I saw you? J its not going to do shit if you don’t give it a rest for at least a day or so” you said back trying you best to keep you and your voice as calm as possible. You fucking hated seeing JJ like this, you would never say it to his face but fuck it just reminded you of his dad when he got into states like this. Until the last week you had never seen JJ this bad. But could you blame him.

“You just don’t get it do you” JJ was now facing you and by the tone of his voice you had unintentionally struck a nerve that you were actively avoiding. “Why did you even fucking come if you’re just going to tell me how I should cope. Do you even care that JB has gone? He was our best fucking friend. He was my fucking brother my only family! And he’s fucking gone just like his old man. You haven’t even shed a tear y/n. You’re just acting like nothing had happened. Do you even care!” JJ was now on his feet breathing heavily and his jaw so clenched you’re surprised his teeth haven’t broken

“J, please do not yell at me right now” you asked with your voice shaking trying to hold back something that was bubbling at the surface. Was it anger or was it the water works that desperately needed to be let out.

JJ started to walk back up the dock, showing that he was done with this conversation that he could have avoided if he didn’t ask you in the first place to come pick him up. Deep down he knew that you would be the only one to come and get him, he just wasn’t as good at showing his gratefulness due to the alcohol that was numbing him.

“JJ just wait please, please don’t walk away” You stood back up and starting walking after him quick on the backs of his feet. He halted his tracks and turned around to look at you with a pained look in his face, as you got up close you could see his eyes stained red. Either from crying or the linger of weed still in his system.

“What could you possibly want to say y/n. I really thought you would be the last person not to care about this” JJ was now right up in your face and his voice was holding back trying his best not to yell. But that last sentence had taken you back.

“You think I don’t care JJ!” now you starting yelling “of course I give a shit JJ our friends are gone, they are not fucking here. I know it might not seem that I don’t care. But just because I’m not crying my eyes out every hour or drinking myself into a state where I don’t now where the fuck I am or getting high that I spray paint on any wall I see” your breath was now battling to come to the surface because you were talking so fast.

“Just because Im not doing any of those things doesn’t mean I don’t care JJ! People deal with this shit differently and you need to understand that” you breathed out trying to grasp for air again “the thing is JJ I have this annoying gut feeling thats telling me that John B and Sarah are not dead, and its literally preventing me to mourn them. I have convinced myself that they are alive and I can’t fucking mourn non dead people J. I don’t know how to fucking explain it”

“Well why didn’t you just tell us that” he replied after bit letting your whole rant sink into his brain, weaving its way through the alcohol that was clouding it.

“Because JJ! Even saying that out loud I sound fucking crazy, like I’m in a deep pit of denial. The thing is I’m far from denial. Yes I know there is a massive fucking fat chance that they are dead and have been food for the sharks” you exclaimed

“Don’t make it worse y/n” JJ shook his head not very happy with your choice of words

“Okay yeah sorry bad wording. Im sorry” you lowered your head in sorrow wanting to slap yourself in the face for trying to make jokes out of trauma.

“So its not that I don’t care J, trust me I do care. But John B and Sarah are not physically here with us and I cant physically care for them right now. But when we see them can do that”

“Y/n -“ JJ tried to get a word in but you hadn’t finished

“Don’t JJ. We will see them again” you put an emphasis on ‘will’ “I trust my gut and even you know that when I get a gut feeling that it’s always been right. Correct?”

“Yes but -“ he tried to get another word in but you needed him to listen.

“JJ I care about you. I care about Kiara and Pope. You guys are physically here for me to care for. The thing is I haven’t spoken to Kie since she’s with Pope half the time and I have spoken to Pope since he’s with Kid half the time and you? I can’t speak to you because your too far gone in beers to for me to even get a coherent conversation in” This was such an over due conversation to be had, you were now on the verge of hyperventilating. You needed JJ to hear this. Fully sober would have been better but half sober is the best you’re gonna get.

“JJ I understand if that’s how you’re going to deal with all of this but you can’t throw yourself completely away. We need you. I need you JJ. I can’t have you going off the deep end and then we loose you too. You need to be here for when we get John B back. He will need you for when he’s back”. The water works that you had been holding back had finally been released and trust it to be in front of JJ. He was your fucking rock, you couldn’t loose him. No way that would be your last day on earth if that were to happen.

“I-. Im sorry. I’m just so fucking lost y/n. I don’t know what the fuck to do. You’re always at work and Kie and Pope are god knows where. I just want this to go away so fucking bad. All this pain, I feel like I have no one” JJ was now crying to and gripping your waist as is you could float away into the air

“I know JJ, but you have us you have always had us. But you have to be so stubborn sometimes that you won’t let us in and help, you won’t let me in a help you” you had JJ’s face in your hands making him look at you so he knew you meant every single word. “I’m so sorry if you didn’t think I cared and I wasn’t there to help you, I just deal with this shit in a different way. Just like every single other person. We all heal differently and that’s okay. It dosent mean we care less. It doesn’t mean I care less”

Now there you and JJ stand on the dock leading off the chateau both in each others embrace purging the pain that’s both been locked up inside you for so long. The past you and JJ had people really didn’t tend to understand but neither did you. But you would always find your way back to each other at the end of the day. Despite the fights you had in the past and the days you would be at each others throats screaming at each other to the days you would be secretly stealing a glance at him because you just couldn’t help yourself.

You would always be there to help him take the pain away and he was always be there to do the same for you.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

The Problem with Perfection Chapter 10 spoilers!

Hey all! So, a couple people asked for this, so I figured I’d post it. It’s chapter 8 of the companion to TPWP, The Problem with Mondo, which corresponds with chapter 10 of TPWP. Yes, this confuses me a lot too, the fact that the chapters don’t align. -.-

Anyway! Don’t read this if you’ve not read TPWP chapter 10, since it will definitely spoil that chapter, ha. Warning for an overabundance of foul language and some sexualized thinking, as well as an absent thought of suicide, same as in TPWP. This chapter is super long, about 20,000 words, and I’m posting all of it because... why not, am I right? Ha.

I did cut a few sentences from this chapter because they might spoil things for later chapters of TPWP, but they don’t really contain anything major.

The chapter is below the cut! Hope y’all like. :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mondo is angry. Blindingly angry. So angry he doesn’t know why he’s angry, but honestly, what else is new? He just knows that he’s angry and the reason he is angry is that goddamn motherfucking kid and his goddamn motherfucking glasses-

 “They! Are!! Glasses!!! Just!!! Wear them!!!” the boy grits out, thrusting his goddamn hand out towards Mondo, looking like he is about five fucking seconds from bashing his head against the goddamn wall. Mondo almost wishes he fucking would, to save him the fucking trouble! Unable to help himself, he scowls and crosses his arms, shaking his head firmly, so fucking pissed it ain’t even funny. 

 “No! I ain’t no fuckin’ nerd!” Mondo yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Unfortunately, it seems so was Ishimaru, as the kid is glaring like his life depends on it, as fiery and beautiful passionate as ever. That goddamn motherfucking... 

 “Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don’t have to wear them all the time! Just when you’re reading! Stop! Being an idiot!”

 “Me?! I ain’t no fuckin’ idiot, you’re a fuckin’ idiot! If ya think I’m gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I’m gonna bash yer head in!” 

 “Like heck you will! You’re all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don’t think I won’t!” 

 “Oh, you motherfuckin’-!”

 “U-uh, g-guys?”

 Mondo and Ishimaru turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private fucking conversation. Okay, so maybe they’re in the middle of the hallway outside their dorm rooms, but fuck! That don’t mean shit! Eavesdropping is a nasty fucking habit and if this goddamn motherfucker doesn’t butt the fuck out right the fuck now- 

 “Shut up!” the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again. 

 Mondo doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, or why he has been doing this for the past week and a half. From hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, again and again and again, never fucking ceasing. One minute he’s fine, relaxed as shit and not at all angry, maybe even feeling kinda good, and then the next...

 And he doesn’t know why. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s fucking ruining this shit, like he fucking ruins every fucking thing. He... h-he just... 

 Things had been okay, you know? Between him and Ishimaru. At first. Sure, they weren’t really friends, evidenced by how they are still referring to one another by last name, but they’d been friendly enough. Mondo had taken care to keep his anger in check, and— to his surprise— it... it hadn’t actually been that hard. It seems that Ishimaru can be pretty fucking cool when they’re not at odds. 

 He’s also a great fucking tutor. He somehow manages to not sound sanctimonious and pretentious when explaining shit, instead looking so fucking earnest and like he genuinely wants to just... help. 

 Because of that, they’d gotten along pretty well those first few days. Ishimaru had been determined to get him brought up to speed before they started the fucking novel, so he’d taken care to spend a couple hours a day hanging around Mondo, at various times. The pair usually spent an hour or so in the library after class ended, but more than that, they just... they would walk together between classes, Ishimaru rambling on and on about what they’d just learned about in class. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d allowed it, usually not caring about shit like that, but somehow... somehow, it had been nice. Hearing Ishimaru talk about the shit they’d learned, the kid better able to impart knowledge in the ten fucking minutes they had between classes than the teachers were able to in the hour plus they had. It’s not at all the sorta shit Mondo would have expected himself to enjoy, let alone look forward to, but shit. There they were. 

 But then... Mondo got stupid. He overstepped his bounds and got fucking scared, fuck. 

 They’d been in Ishimaru’s room. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d made the offer to go to the kid’s room rather than the library, like they usually did, like was safe, but he... he had. And the kid had fucking accepted, and so there they were, sitting on the hall monitor’s fucking couch, sitting too fucking close. The kid was reading the short story Teach had assigned to the class, the pair realizing it was just... easier, while Mondo waited for the nurse to contact the eye doctor for him, since it turned out that yeah, his eyes were kinda fucked up, shit. 

 He had felt so fucking weird inside, the first time the kid had read to him, since they’d been in the library and he’d been nervous someone would see them and think Mondo was an idiot who needed to be fucking read to, but... shit. This time it had just been... different. Without the fear of being judged (since Ishimaru never fucking judged him, not ever, god fucking damn), he... he’d been able to listen to the kid reading without any fucking reservations. And he’d had to admit that- that he... he liked it. A lot. Like... fucking a lot. 

 So fucking much that it had made him feel relaxed for the first time... shit. Prolly ever. Ishimaru just had a nice sounding voice, ya know? It was strangely deep, at times, when he got lost in the story, his words not too fast but not too slow. He actually emoted when he spoke, too, the sound not a dull and dry monotone like so many fucking other people he’s heard read before. It just... made him feel so fucking calm inside, like the monster inside of him had been fucking purring. 

 And... and then...

 Mondo had let his head drop down onto Ishimaru’s shoulder, eyes closing in contentment, the kid faltering for one split second, breath hitched, before he’d smoothly continued, like it had never happened. And with his eyes closed and his head resting on a warm, comfortable shoulder, hearing that wonderful cadence from that wonderful, beautiful mouth... he hadn’t been able to stop the thought. And the thought he had was... 

 God, his voice is so fucking nice, isn’t it...? Wonder what it would sound like screaming your name as you pound the fuck outta him. He’d prolly be loud as shit, so fucking passionate, clawing you to all hell, but damn if you’d mind. Shit... wouldn’t that be fucking nice...

 He had been, to put it mildly, freaked the fuck out. 

 His eyes had shot open the second the thought had crossed his mind, heart fucking pounding as he wondered where the goddamn fuck that shit came from. Ishimaru had been startled, looking at him with his wide fucking eyes, lips opened softly in shock, voice faltering for the first time and Mondo... Mondo couldn’t fucking handle it, holy fucking shit. 

 He’d immediately stood and stammered out some bullshit about needing to check on his hog, before fucking bailing, eyes wide and heart an absolute mess. He had, indeed, gone out to his hog and rode around for a bit, not wanting to think, but he’d been unable to help it. To stop it. And it... it made him feel...

 He’s not gay. Okay? He’s fucking not. There’d be no fucking problem if he were, but he just ain’t. He likes chicks, something he knows better than anything else, something he’s known since he was a fucking kid, goddamn. He’d even made sure to look at his porno mags that night, reassured when he felt his dick harden so fucking hard as he saw the tits and pussy that always made him so fucking hard to see. 

 So, he wasn’t gay. He fucking couldn’t be gay, and it’s not possible for him to like both, so he figured that the thought had meant... meant Mondo wanted to fucking pound Ishimaru’s head in, not- n-not any other meaning of the word that it could have meant. He guessed that he didn’t like being around Ishimaru as much as he had assumed and that he actually hated him, after all. 

 As freaked out as he’d been, he took hold of that idea and fucking ran with it. He told himself that he hated the kid, of course he hated him, his voice was fucking annoying as shit, not nice, not nice at all! 

 And so, the next day, he’d been cold to the kid. So fucking cold. And when the kid had tried to approach him after home room ended, looking open and earnest and so fucking cute-

 Mondo hadn’t been able to handle it. His stomach had clenched, and his heart had fucking lurched, and he told himself it was hatred he felt, it had to be fucking hatred. And so, he’d snarled at the kid, telling him to ‘get the fuck away from me, freak!’ before he’d run off, heart aching so fucking stupidly. 

 He had considered skipping class, getting on his hog and fucking booking it, but he needed to give his girl a break, and he still kinda wanted to try the whole ‘giving school a chance’ thing, so he’d eventually decided to storm into class, even if he’d been five minutes late. He’d refused to look at Ishimaru, though, thinking that seeing his stupid fucking pathetic face would fucking destroy him infuriate the shit out of him, and as soon as class ended, he’d shot out, not needing to pack anything up since he’d not fucking brought anything, shit. 

 That had kept happening the rest of the day. Every class they had together (which was pretty much every fucking class, god fucking damn this school) Mondo would carefully keep his eyes off the kid, ignoring the feel of sad, hurt, bright red eyes as they bored into him. After the second class, the kid had tried to chase after him, tried to talk to him, but Mondo would fucking turn and head the opposite fucking direction of their next class, and he knew the kid wouldn’t dare risk being late, so he’d give up pretty quick. He’d constantly be looking in class, though, lips pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not that Mondo was fucking looking! Shit! 

 It wasn’t until Ishimaru had cornered him outside his dorm room that night, looking so fucking hurt and upset and not a little bit annoyed that they’d managed to resolve things. 

 In that Ishimaru had been so fucking annoying that Mondo had immediately started yelling, causing Ishimaru to yell back, his words bleeding hurt, making Mondo feel like absolute scum. They had been loud enough to garner the attention of most of their classmates, even fucking Togami gracing them with his condescending presence, which had made Mondo even more pissed, honestly, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere fucking else.

 It was when the kid looked about ready to fucking cry that Mondo had had enough. His insides were squirming, and he felt so fucking scared, for reasons he still doesn’t understand, but he... h-he hadn’t wanted to make Ishimaru cry again. After spending several days interacting with Ishimaru, having a lot of fucking conversations that hadn’t actually ended in the kid’s tears, he... he hadn’t wanted to go back to that. 

 And so, with all the confused fucking emotions swirling inside him, he’d yelled ‘fuckin’ fine, ya goddamn bastard! I’ll fuckin’ meet you and do that goddamn fuckin’ assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud it made even his ears ring. 

 He’d then promptly stormed into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go, the water fucking hurting, but he’d wanted it to. He just... he’d felt so... so...

 Confused...

 He’d never felt this way for anyone before. So angry and scared and confused and yet also so fucking happy, so bizarrely, stupidly happy. Ishimaru fucking... he made him happy. And he didn’t know how to handle that, because clearly, he still hated the kid... right? Right? What other option was there? Why did he want to hit Ishimaru (and he had to want to hit him, it was the only fucking option that made any fucking sense) if he didn’t hate him? 

 But he’d agreed— stupidly— to meet with the kid for another fucking tutoring session after class the next day. And while the thought had made his insides squirm, he... fuck. He hadn’t wanted to make the kid cry again. God, did he not want that. Even if he did hate him— which he must, he must— he... fuck. 

 He couldn’t make him cry. 

 He wasn’t his goddamn old man.

 And so, when he got out of the shower, he’d resolved to contain his anger the next day. He’d push it down, keep it locked up tight tight tight, and he wouldn’t let it hurt Ishimaru. He’d gotten into bed (still hated it, but he was slowly getting use to the ridiculously plush material) and fallen into a fitful sleep, dreams full of wide, hurt red eyes, a sad voice begging him to explain why he was hurting him so. He’d woken an hour early with a start, heart pounding, and had spent the remaining time until he usually got up doing push-ups again and again and again, until he didn’t remember the dream anymore. 

 And then, when he went into class, carrying his supplies for once... he’d given the kid a small, sheepish smile, stomach roiling with all the emotions within it. He’d then spent the rest of home room doodling absently on the notebook Ishimaru had helped him pick out from the school store, doing his best to not think of everything and psych himself out. He’d even managed to feel almost calm as he let himself draw, something he rarely allows himself to do, but always has kinda enjoyed, even if he’s shit at it.

 Once home room ended, he’d waited for Ishimaru at the door, telling him as casually as he could that the nurse had contacted him the day before, saying she’d scheduled an eye doctor (he still can’t remember the official name Ishimaru called the dude, shit) appointment for 3:00 the next day, hesitantly asking the kid if he had wanted to come along. He could tell that the kid was taken aback, clearly not having expected such a thing, but he’d still stammered out an acceptance, looking so flustered it wasn’t funny when Mondo turned to look at him with a small, soft smile. He’d not meant to look at the kid like that, but he’d just... been unable to help it. 

 The rest of the day had gone well, the tutoring session going nicely like it had before that stupid fucking bullshit two days prior. It had happened in the library again, which Mondo figured would be safer. He’d almost started to hope that things would stay that way, stay as calm and easy and nice, but then-

 Mondo got angry. Again. 

 He doesn’t even know why, he never fucking does, but the kid had just... he’d been so fucking patient, helping Mondo pick out a pair of ‘reading glasses,’ since the doc had said he had pretty bad close-up vision and would be benefited from having prescription reading glasses, not just the over-the-counter stuff you find at drug stores. Mondo had felt so fucking lost, no idea what any of the bullshit meant, but Ishimaru had... he’d been so fucking helpful, explaining the complicated terminology and shit, helping him find a pair that didn’t make him look too much like a fucking nerd. And the pair he settled on was honestly kinda nice. It was a rectangular silver metal frame that had deep purple plastic on the sides, and it actually make him look kinda cool... if a bit nerdy. He’d given the salesperson his school insurance card and was pleasantly surprised to find he’d not have to pay a penny for the frames, since the school covers shit like that. 

 It was then, as he and Ishimaru exited the shop and the kid absently commented that the glasses made him look very smart that Mondo just... fucking lost it. 

 And he doesn’t even know why.

 It just... it made him feel weird inside. Being around the kid. Being soft with him. And he was. Soft. Soft and kind and fucking gentle. And the kid was the exact same back. The entire time they’d been in the shop, Mondo had been thinking how nice it had felt. How domestic. The panic and fear had been slowly rising in him the entire time they’d been in the store, and he’d done all he could to push it the fuck down, but he... he hadn’t...

 He’d left the kid standing there, looking so fucking confused, as he hopped on his hog and drove away. He’d not cared how the kid would get back to the school, he had refused to ride with Mondo since it made him ‘nervous’ anyway, so it wasn’t his fucking problem.

 And that pattern just... kept repeating. Mondo would get angry, say something toxic to the kid, and storm away. The kid would wait a couple of hours, maybe try and talk with him after class or something, only to eventually corner him and force him to talk to him, looking so fucking fed up, but also so fucking upset and sad and confused. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was doing this to him. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was being so fucking difficult. Like he... he didn’t...

 Didn’t know why he fucking bothered...

 And… honestly? Mondo didn’t know why either. Why he kept trying. Why he was so stubborn, always chasing after Mondo even after Mondo fucking shoved him away, sometimes literally. Even when Mondo would get so fucking nasty, making tears build up in the kid’s eyes, frustration clear in his every movement. 

 For almost two weeks this occurred, again and again and again, and Mondo... Mondo doesn’t know why the kid doesn’t just leave him already. Why he doesn’t just say ‘the hell with it,’ realize Mondo isn’t fucking worth it, and leave his ass. Like every other person on the face of this goddamn planet... 

 It’s only a matter of time until he does, though. Leave him. It’s what always was going to happen, since Mondo couldn’t ever hope to hold onto someone so very, very good. So very, very nice. Mondo is poison. He’s gas. He only knows how to destroy and break and hurt. 

 He’s not allowed something nice. 

 He’s not allowed someone nice. 

 He’s just...

 Not worthy of it. 

 Case in fucking point...

 “Look. Owada-kun,” Ishimaru spits, hands clenched around the stupid glasses case that he for some reason has (Mondo doesn’t even know how he’d gotten a hold of them, shit), looking like he wants to crush them, shit. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind!”

 Mondo scowls at the words, heart racing and swirling and hurting, hurting, hurting, and he doesn’t wanna be doing this, wants to stop, but he can’t, he can’t, he fucking can’t! He doesn’t know how to stop this, doesn’t know how to make this go away, all he knows how to do is break and hurt and destroy, destroy, destroy-

 “I ain’t changed shit! I never fuckin’ agreed ta wear fuckin’ glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!” 

 It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, he can see the anger rising on Ishimaru’s face as he processes the abject lie. Mondo had, in fact, agreed on the glasses, had even kinda liked them, but he can’t concede that, can’t say he does, if he does then- then that means he’s okay with this, this weird thing he has going on with Ishimaru, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the proof that Ishimaru is so fucking amazing, the proof that Mondo doesn’t fucking deserve him, proof that... t-that he... 

 Mondo can’t take it. He can’t fucking take it! He tries to leave, to get away, to fucking end this shit already, but then Ishimaru is grabbing hold of him, holding so fucking tight, and Mondo tries to break free, tries to get away, but the kid just doesn’t fucking let go, and Mondo is so fucking freaked out, he just wants to leave, please god, let him just leave, don’t let him break this fucking kid again, god, please- 

 “You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn’t be long enough!”

 “Oh, I’m so wounded, please don’t call me anymore fuckin’ names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!” Mondo snarls, sarcasm so thick he’s sure even Ishimaru will be able to pick up on it, wanting to stop but not being able to. “Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin’ assfucker! Learn some better fuckin’ insults or don’t even bother tryin’ ta play!”

 “Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-”

 “Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin’ better than me?! I told ya already, y’ain’t goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain’t no shit at all!”

 “I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I’m not... feces, then you’re not even worth anything at all! Y-you’re... you’re an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it’s a miracle you think you’re relevant at all!”

 “What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!”

 Mondo sees the kid open his mouth— likely to fire something back, barely any space between them— holding onto Mondo’s arm so fucking tight, like his life depends on it or something, looking so fucking pissed and angry and hurt and fucking beautiful, so fucking beautiful, god fucking damnit-

 But before the kid can say anything, another voice pipes up, the same voice as earlier, making Mondo’s rage reach a paramount, oh god-

 “Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!” 

 Mondo turns to the fucking eavesdropper, snarling at the beyond fucking average boy. Naegi turns super fucking pale at the look, but he doesn’t cower away for once. Mondo doesn’t care. He’s far passed the point of caring. 

 “I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!” 

 Naegi frowns, but Mondo doesn’t give him a chance to say any other stupid ass thing before he’s turning back to Ishimaru, eyes practically spitting fire as he stares so deep into Ishimaru’s that it feels almost like a physical embrace. It makes Mondo’s breath hitch for some stupid fucking reason, his stomach swirling as he looks deep into the most gorgeous fucking eyes he’s ever fucking seen-

 But he can’t feel things like that, so he pushes it firmly away. 

 He can hear their eavesdropper fucking sigh, soft and almost disappointed, and that should make Mondo even angrier, but something in Mondo is feeling so fucking weird now. G-god... he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it, other than it feels like he’s on fire, but not even in a bad way. Ishimaru is staring at him, eyes wide, anger in them, but also something else, something Mondo can’t understand, no matter how much he fucking wants to. 

 He can’t let this end here. He wants to let it end, but he fucking can’t. He... h-he needs to figure out how to settle this, how to make this stop, how to not be as fucking pathetic as he knows he is. He... he needs to prove that he’s not as worthless as they both know he is, as weak, as nothing, so fucking nothing. Everyone knows it, knows he doesn’t belong here, knows that Ishimaru is so much better than him it’s not funny, but he- he needs to prove that he has something going for him, that he... he can do something, even if he’s worthless in every other regard, every other aspect, even if Ishimaru is better than him everywhere else he just needs to prove he can beat him at fucking something, god-

 He’s issuing the challenge before he can stop himself. 

 And god, is he so fucking afraid. 

 “You think yer so perfect, don’t ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an’ I can fuckin’ prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin’ week. Y’ain’t better than me, ya shit fuck. Y’ain’t nothin’,” Mondo hisses, lying through his fucking teeth. Ishimaru is better than him. He knows it. He’s always known it. He hates it, though. Not being good enough. Not being worthy. He... he wants to be. Good enough. For... f-for... 

 Ishimaru’s eyes are shiny again, even despite his glare. 

 Typical. 

 “What?! Y-you guys aren’t going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!”

 Mondo breaks his stare down with Ishimaru to shoot that goddamn fucking bastard a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Ishimaru, chest heaving with all the emotions he carries within him. 

 “Nah. Ground floor, there’s a sauna. Ya know it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks slowly, sluggish, before nodding slightly, looking very fucking confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pulled down, and he looks so fucking cute stupid, god. After a moment, though, it seems he understands what Mondo is getting at, the challenge he is suggesting, as his face lights up, eyes bright and passionate once more, an honest to god grin on his face. 

 Holy fucking shit... 

 “Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!” 

 Despite the anger that is still flowing through him, Mondo can’t help the small smile that passes on his lips, something about the enthusiasm so fucking... not cute, not cute, not cute at all, but maybe, a little, teeny tiny bit... endearing? He pushes it away, though. It’s not helpful, here. 

 “Yer fuckin’ on. And you,” Mondo points blindly to Naegi— who ‘eeps’ at the gesture, fucking coward he is— not able to look away from Ishimaru for a single fucking second, “will be our witness. Got it?!” 

 As intently as Mondo is staring at Ishimaru, he doesn’t see the other kid’s response, but he can hear how Naegi splutters, the kid clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Ishimaru and himself are. Bastard. 

 “W-what?! Now?! B-but it’s so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!”

 “Yes, ya fuckin’ moron, it’s a fuckin’ great idea!” Mondo snarls, at the exact same time Ishimaru— eyes bright and feverish— exclaims, “yes! It is an excellent idea!” 

 Uncomfortable at their agreement, Mondo finally tears his eyes away, ignoring the churning feeling in his chest as he storms down the hall to where the bathhouse is, mere meters away. Ishimaru stares after him for a stunned second, but quickly spurs himself into motion, using his long-ish legs to catch up quick, head held high as they march determinedly on. God... he’s so fucking...

 Shit. 

 When they reach the bathhouse a few moments later, Mondo firmly pushes aside the rational voice inside him that is screaming at him not to do this. He knows his limits when it comes to endurance. While he’s not the best at running, he has great endurance for other things, especially pain and discomfort. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) 

 But Ishimaru... fuck. He’s so fucking passionate, so fucking determined, but who knows what his endurance is like? If he’ll be able to keep up? And it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t give Mondo pause, but he... he can’t help the stab of concern that fills him as they enter the room, Mondo grabbing a ‘closed for repairs’ sign and putting it in front of the entrance, not wanting anyone to interrupt. 

 He hates the feeling and pushes it away as he turns to glare at Ishimaru, pointing a finger, not wanting to deal with such weakness, but he... he can’t quite manage to force it fully away... 

 Shit. 

 “Alright, here’s the fuckin’ terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin’ bitch ass loser who ain’t worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain’t allowed ta touch the other or do anythin’ ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an’ we’re gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!” 

 Mondo sees Ishimaru’s eyes widen when he gets to the last term, the kid fucking shaking his head sharply in denial. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He’d added that last clause in last minute, realizing as he detailed the rules that they were gonna be fucking half fucking naked in there, and his mind had shorted the fuck out. He’s been in saunas fully clothed before, he knows he can handle it, but he isn’t fucking sure he can handle sitting nearly nude beside Ishi-fucking-maru...

 But of course, the kid wouldn’t fucking agree. Of fucking course...

 “I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!” 

 Glad his angry flush fully disguises the fucking embarrassed flush he can feel rising on his face, Mondo just nods tensely, sneering, as he storms over to the water cooler in the corner. 

 “Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this shit.” 

 With that, Mondo grabs a paper cup and downs some water, feeling so impossibly tense. He can feel Ishimaru staring at him, mouth partially open, but he gets spurned into action when Naegi shifts awkwardly beside him, chasing the kid away to one of the lockers, where he... he fucking...

 Starts taking off his fucking clothes...

 Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

 Mondo is staring. Mondo knows he shouldn’t be staring, knows it’s wrong to be staring, but he can’t fucking help it. His eyes are like magnets, drawn to the kid, watching as he takes off all of his fucking layers, folding each one so neatly and carefully as he sticks them in the small fucking locker. The kid hesitates a little when he gets to his fucking tighty-whities (of course the kid wears that shit, of fucking course), but ultimately, he doesn’t take them off. Instead, he bites his lip and grabs a white towel, wrapping it firmly around his waist before putting the rest of his stuff away. Mondo firmly pushes down the stupid as shit rush of disappointment and tells himself to stop staring, to look away, but god, he fucking can’t. Ishimaru, he...

 He’s so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy-

 Mondo feels himself heat the fuck up when Ishimaru turns abruptly and looks him straight in the eyes, looking fucking startled at something. Feeling strangely caught, Mondo looks away as quick as he can, pushing away the stupid as shit thoughts, marching over to a locker stiffly. Shit... he’s gotta fucking get laid one of these days. The tension is doing fucked up shit to his brain... 

 He takes his time putting some of his more fragile shit away, like his crappy cellphone and his key card. He does, honestly, consider taking off his uniform, or at least taking off his duster, but he just... shit. Can’t. Not with how strange he feels inside, his mind’s eye still stupidly forcing him to think of Ishimaru, his stupidly muscular back flexing with every move he made. It means nothing, fucking nothing, but he... shit. It prolly would be better to remain fully clothed, duster included, even if it does put him at a disadvantage. But ya know what, whatever. Doesn’t matter. He knows his limits and knows that he can last longer in the sauna than Ishimaru, even when fully clothed. Shit...

 When the five minutes he gave them are up, he meets up with Ishimaru outside the entrance to the sauna, fully intending to slide it open and step inside, when-

 “Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It’s suicide!” Ishimaru exclaims, sounding fucking concerned as shit. His eyes are wide, and his brows are furrowed, and he’s biting his fucking lip, god fucking damn, and it’s messing with Mondo’s head so fucking much. Why... why the fuck would he care?! Huh?! They’re not fucking friends! Why would he care if Mondo did try and kill himself, huh?! World would fucking be better off for it, shit! 

 Deciding to definitely not say that, Mondo just sneers at the kid, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

 “Just ‘cuz yer a fuckin’ pansy ass bitch don’t mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin’ chicken?!”  

 His face flushed, Ishimaru doesn’t even bother to answer, instead just yanking open the door and entering the sauna with a stubborn tilt to his jaw. 

 Staring after the kid for a split second (pushing down the disappointment that he didn’t press the issue harder, proving to Mondo how fucking right he is), Mondo enters on Ishimaru’s heels, the heat not even bothering him one bit. 

 It’s nothing compared to the fire that constantly burns within him. 

 Sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Naegi outside to do whatever the fuck he wants while the contest takes place, Mondo marches over to where Ishimaru is sitting, taking a seat an arm’s length away. He can feel bright red eyes on him, but he determinedly pushes the feeling away, trading a few snide comments with the kid, not even feeling the heat really. 

 About ten minutes in, Mondo will admit the heat is getting to him a little, a thin sheen of sweat making its way onto his skin, which is more uncomfortable than anything. Ishimaru looks a little woozy, so Mondo taunts that the kid should just give up now. Ishimaru just laughs, saying how he never gives up, ever. Fucking pretentious bastard. 

 After half an hour, he can admit he is feeling kinda uncomfortable, the heat becoming somewhat unpleasant, but he’s still feeling pretty good, all things considered. Ishimaru looks flushed as all hell, though, his cheeks bright red and sweat clinging to his muscles. The kid tells him— unprompted— that he’s doing fine, and Mondo’s brain feels too stupid to allow him to do much else than glare, shit... 

 After around fifty minutes, the kid... he looks fucking awful. Mondo isn’t doing too hot, the uncomfortable feeling spreading to be extremely uncomfortable, but he knows he can handle it. The kid, though... he looks like he’s starting to lose it. Ishimaru mentions absently that he’s starting to feel cold, which honestly concerns Mondo, since he knows that shit is a bad sign, but his head is too stupid to remember why, so he just says it’s prolly not good. The kid doesn’t call it quits, though. 

 Instead, he actually... talks... huh. 

 “Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won’t judge...” the boy mumbles, sounding super fucking exhausted. Mondo tries to snort, but it’s a lot harder than it should be, shit. 

 “N-nah... I’m... I’m... I’m good,” Mondo finds himself muttering back, looking at the kid intensely, wondering why he isn’t giving up when he so clearly feels sick. Mondo finds himself muttering about how red Ishimaru’s is, likening him to a hot spring monkey, of all things. The kid mumbles back about being born with a red face, which makes no fucking sense, but ya know what? He’s too tired to waste energy on this shit. He’s got a challenge to win. 

 After what he figures is an hour and five minutes, the warning bell rings, telling them they have five minutes until curfew. Mondo figures the hall monitor will end this now, since he wouldn’t dare stay out past curfew and risk breaking one of his ‘precious rules,’ but the kid doesn’t seem to even notice the bell had rung. S-shit... that... that’s not good, is it...? 

 Mondo gets distracted from his stupid as shit concern when a new voice pipes up, shocking Mondo. Huh... he hadn’t realized the kid was still out there. Shit. 

 “U-uh guys? It’s almost curfew, shouldn’t you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

 Mondo scowls at the meaning of the words, knowing that he sure as shit ain’t gonna back down first. He’s already so worthless. He’s gotta prove that he can at least do this, of all fucking things.

 “Shut up!” he barks, at the same time Ishimaru does, making him feel fucking wigged out at how they’re both on the same page again. 

 Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... it honestly offends Mondo, but before he can reply, the kid is... talking... saying something about how in a true competition, there are no ties. That you either win or you lose, and that... that’s the only thing that matters. It honestly kinda pisses Mondo off, even if he agrees fully, so he fires back how he will push the kid right up to the gates of hell, meaning it fully. 

 He tells Naegi to leave then, knowing that this might drag on a lot longer than he had anticipated. Shit. He knew Ishimaru was fucking stubborn as shit, willing to do absolutely anything to reach his goals, but this... this is just madness. Utter madness. As Naegi leaves, Mondo cannot help how he stares at the hall monitor, who looks so fucking sick right now. He does his best to ignore it, to wait the kid out, but when roughly fifteen more minutes pass and the kid isn’t tapping out, despite looking half dead, he... he can’t help the worry that he feels. And then, when the kid closes his eyes, barely breathing, Mondo... s-shit... 

 “Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don’t... don’t look so good...” 

 Mondo listens, getting really kinda freaked, when Ishimaru lets out a soft puff of air, almost like he’s trying to laugh but can’t find the energy. He lolls his head over to Mondo, the first movement he’s done in minutes, but his eyes are still closed, which looks so fucking freaky. It takes him far longer than it should to open his eyes, and when he does, they... shit. They look glazed, like the kid isn’t fucking in there, like he... he’s...

 Already dead...

 F-fuck... 

 It really does look like that, though. Eyes glazed, mouth partially open, chest so scarily still... o-oh, shit. Shit, what if he... what if he is dead...?! Y-yeah, he just moved, but he- he looks so still, it... Mondo... 

 But then the kid is speaking, and he sounds so very out of it, but at least he’s alive, thank god... 

 “I- I’m... I’m fine, I...” 

 Oh, shit... no, he... he’s not fine, is he...? Shit... s-shit...

 “Shit... man... no, y’ain’t. I know my... my limits. I’ve got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up...” 

 It makes something in Mondo clench when he sees the kid’s face screw up, like he wants to cry but just has no tears left within him. And then he... he’s speaking... 

 “No... n-no, I can’t... I- I can’t... give up... I have to... have to...”

 The kid stops, then, and Mondo feels so fucking confused, his head all stupid because of the heat, making it hard to think. What? He has to... what? 

 “Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?”

 The kid blinks, like he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, before opening his mouth and muttering words. It... it’s like the kid doesn’t even know he’s speaking, the words sounding so fucking slurred and soft. Mondo has to strain to hear them, even though the silence is oppressive between them. 

 “I can’t... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name...” 

 Mondo furrows his eyebrows, his lips turned down in a frown, not... not understanding...

 “Yer family... name? What… what about it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks, like he can barely understand what Mondo is saying, and fuck is that scary... 

 “I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather...”

 Okay, that... that doesn’t make any fucking sense... his grandfather? The fuck? Shit... Ishimaru needs to stop this, he... he’s not making any sense...

 “What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer ‘bout ta... ta fuckin’ pass out... why can’t ya just... just give up, man?” 

 Ishimaru isn’t looking at him anymore and is instead staring blankly at the steam that is billowing around them, looking like he’s not aware where the fuck he is. It makes Mondo’s stomach clench, the concern rising. He... he doesn’t wanna give up, needs to prove himself, but he... Ishimaru... f-fuck... 

 And then... Ishimaru starts talking again...

 “It... it’s all up to me to fix it... t-to make it better... m-make it- it right-! I... I can’t... give up, I... I’m not... not allowed to... give up... giving up is- is wrong... and immoral, and- and I am not wrong! I... I’m not- not immoral... I... I’m better... better than my grandfather... better than myself... better... than...” 

 Okay. Okay. Okay, it’s official. Mondo is fucking freaked the fuck out. What... what does any of that even mean? He... Ishimaru...

 “Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin’ me... what the hell does… does any a’ that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin’... Ultimate Moral Compass... ‘course yer not- not... immoral...” 

 Ishimaru is shaking now, eyes still glazed, staring at the steam as if it holds the answer to life itself. And fuck... it’s so fucking creepy... 

 “But I am, I am... I’m worthless, I’m nothing... my grandfather... he’d done so many terrible things, had hurt s-so many people... he’d ruined... ruined Japan... e-everyone hated him... hated me... I have to do better... to be better... to fix... my grandfather’s... mistakes...”

 His grandfather? Who the fuck is his grandfather? And why... why does he even matter? Even if he was so fucking terrible, Ishimaru... he ain’t... he...

 “Dude... y’ain’t... ain’t yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an’ frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it’s... too much...” 

 The kid shakes his head, and Mondo doesn’t know how he’s able to even hear him, as far fucking gone as he looks, but fuck, he’s clearly responding, ain’t he...? 

 “Nnnn- n-no! I- I... I can’t... can’t admit... weakness... god I’m so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they’re right about me, they’re all so... so right... I’ll never... amount to- to anything... I’m worthless... pathetic... scum...” 

 H-holy shit... Ishimaru he... he can’t fucking believe that... can he? No... n-no, he... he ain’t none of that shit, Mondo is, Mondo is, but not- not Ishimaru! He... he’s fucking... he... 

 “Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y’ain’t... none a’ that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn’t leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn’t ya leave...” 

 He hadn’t meant to ask the question, voice so fucking soft, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks now, wondering why... why Ishimaru bothered staying... why he didn’t just leave his ass... why he didn’t just... give up on him... like everyone always does... 

 “Me... leave? Why? Where would I... go...? I’ve n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can I... do? I don’t... w-wanna... be...... alone.........”

 Oh... oh, shit... suddenly, so many things make so much fucking sense. Why the kid always seems so fucking nervous and awkward around people, though he tries his damndest to hide it. Why he is always alone, never seen really talking to anyone, not without a reason. Why he always... always does his best to extend olive branches to people, offering to tutor or help or do whatever is needed to... to get them to talk to him... g-god... he never would have thought the kid would have no friends, even though it’s so fucking obvious when Mondo thinks about it. He’s just... he’s just so fucking bright and full of sunshine... Mondo can’t imagine people seeing that and not... not wanting to... 

 It’s right then, in that moment, brain stupid from heat, halfway gone but not fully gone yet, that Mondo... Mondo makes a decision. 

 If they survive this stupid fucking challenge... he... he will be Ishimaru— no, Kiyotaka, his name is- is Kiyotaka... he will be Kiyotaka’s friend... and he will be a fucking good one, the friend that the kid... that he fucking deserves...

 If the kid even wants to be friends with him... 

 “Fuckin’... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I’m here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I’m right... right here...” 

 The kid shakes his head, breath still shallow, but now it’s wavering, shaking... trembling... g-god... fuck...

 “No... no... I’m alone, I’m alone. Everyone... always leaves... my mother... my grandfather... even my father would leave... if he could... he’s never... never understood me. No one... understands me... I don’t... even... understand...... myself..........”

 Oh. Oh. Oh. This... this poor fucking boy... he... s-shit. Shit... this... they gotta fucking stop this... they... 

 “I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain’t ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin’... ta prove?” 

 Kiyotaka is shaking again, looking like he wants to cry but just... can’t. God... god... fucking... god.

 “Everything. Everything. Every… everything… I have to prove them... wrong. I have to prove... that I can do this. If I... if I give up... i-if I let myself give up... then I fail. I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail. I c-can’t... fail, I can’t... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of me...?” 

 Point? The point? Why... why does he have to have a point? Shit... he’s so fucking amazing, he... he doesn’t have to have a point... no more than just... just being... 

 “Ain’t gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What’s so wrong... with that?” 

 The blank look on the kid’s face grows, his voice soft, weak. Trembling, like he doesn’t mean to say it, like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Mondo has never heard someone sound so... so... dead before... h-holy shit...

 “Everything. Everything. Everything. E-everything... is wrong with... me... I- I’m too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... I- I hurt... hurt my own eyes... I hate... l-looking at myself... hate... b-being myself... if I could... be someone else... I- I would... gladly...” 

 No. No. No, fucking... no! Ish- Kiyo... Kiyotaka can’t fucking believe that... yeah, he’s so fucking passionate, so fucking bright, but that... that’s not a bad thing... he... he’s so fucking good... so fucking... amazing... and he... Mondo wouldn’t...

 “I wouldn’t. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin’... somethin’ special... I thought I... I hated that ‘bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don’t deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you...”

 Kiyotaka is shaking his head again, barely breathing, looking so dead, so very, very... dead...

 Oh, god...

 “I- I’m not... wonderful. I’m not... anything. T-the children... they hated me... t-they all... hated me. My f-father... hates me. My mother... if she could s-see me... now... s-she’d hate me... too. Why... w-why do I bother... trying...? W-why... why don’t I just... g-give up...” 

 N-no... no, no, god, please... no... Mondo feels pressure behind his eyes, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt such pain. Because that... that sounds so goddamn familiar... he always has seen Kiyotaka as so different to him, so much better, so much brighter. But if the kid is to be believed... he... he thinks of himself like... like Mondo thinks of himself, and he... he can’t... can’t fucking stand that thought, oh god... 

 “Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don’t hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit...”

 Mondo feels himself go cold when Kiyotaka responds, sounding half dead, looking so... so nothing... 

 “Kill... myself? No... I’m not- not that weak... not anymore... not... n-not again... but maybe... maybe... m-maybe it would be better. If I weren’t... weren’t...” a pause. “Alive...”

 What?! No... no, no.... nonononononononononono-!!! He... he can’t... he can’t-

 “What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin’... dammit! Ya can’t be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can’t...”

 “I am. I am. I- I am. If I wasn’t... so weak. If I wasn’t... s-so afraid. I know... k-know how to fix it... a-all of it. How to... t-to make it better. My father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And I... I... I’d be... I’d be...”

 A pause. Inhalation of breath. And then... softly, so fucking softly...

 “Dead...” 

 No. No. No, fucking-! No. This... this is so fucking stupid, why is Mondo doing this, he... he has to stop this. This kid ain’t gonna stop, he can’t fucking stop, he won’t stop until he is fucking dead, and Mondo... Mondo can’t... he fucking can’t-

 He can’t lose someone else... not during another fucking challenge that he fucking issued... he just... can’t.

 “Okay. That’s it. This ain’t... fuckin’ worth it. If y’ain’t... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin’... I fuckin’ will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c’mon, man. Let’s… let’s get outta here.”

 With all the strength he has left, Mondo stands and hobbles over to where Kiyotaka is sitting, looking like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s not moving, barely breathing, and his eyes are so glazed over Mondo doesn’t think he can even see right now. Mondo has never seen someone look so still before, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of him. Especially now that he... he knows that... that the kid has tried... or at least wanted...

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Fuck.

 But he doesn’t have time to hate himself for issuing this stupid ass challenge. He doesn’t have time to waste. Gathering all his strength, he bends down, and he wraps an arm around Kiyotaka, heart stopping when he feels how boneless he is, not moving at all. But then, as he starts moving towards the door, he feels the kid start to struggle. It’s weak and doesn’t sway Mondo even a second, but fuck does it relieve him. The kid is even able to walk a little, barely. It... it’s good. 

 The second he manages to get the door open, however, the cool air almost torture on his overheated skin, he feels Kiyotaka gasp, all the fragile strength he had gone as his knees buckle, making him deadweight. But Mondo hasn’t spent the majority of his life lifting weights for nothing, so he just adjusts his grip, taking on more of the kid’s weight. He doesn’t lift him, doesn’t have time for that, but he drags him bodily over to the bench, accidentally throwing him on it since he’s not really at a hundred percent himself. He sees the kid start to topple, then, and he immediately moves forward to steady the kid, the skin under his hands far, far too warm. Oh... shit, that’s not... not good, oh fuck...

 “Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn’t ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I’ll be right back.”

 Mondo stand abruptly then, feeling clumsy and wrong. His chest feels so fucking painful, like it’s being sat on by an elephant, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more concerned for anyone. Well... other than one person... but shit, he can’t think of him, not now. Not now. Not when Kiyotaka needs him. He takes off his duster as he strides forward, tossing it carelessly on a bench, too fucking hot to deal with that shit. He needs to go quick, needs to... to get back to Kiyotaka... and he needs to drink some water himself, fuck, he’s so fucking dehydrated... fuck. 

 However... once he’s at the water cooler, filling up one of the paper cups for himself to drink, he hears the kid muttering again, the words making no goddamn sense, but damn if it doesn’t make his heart clench...

 “...they won’t, they won’t, they won’t... I’m alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves me in the end... why would I expect anything different... why would I expect-“

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Mondo quickly finishes filling the cup and downs it, filling the second one as quickly as possible while the kid rambles on about being alone again. As soon as the cup is full Mondo practically teleports back to the kid’s side, an odd sense in him that he never, ever wants to be anywhere else... 

 “Shit, Kiyotaka, I’m here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c’mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can’t... ya can’t fuckin’ die on me, man... f-fuck...” 

 He carefully places his hand on the back of Kiyotaka’s neck, lifting it gently up, so he can get the kid to drink some water. He knows that the boy is prolly dehydrated as fuck, and he seriously hopes that’s the only thing wrong with him, because if it isn’t... s-shit. He can feel Kiyotaka struggle as he moves him, his lips moving, muttering those fucking words again... 

 “W-why am I so weak, I need to... to be stronger... to be... better...”

 God, is everything this kid says gonna make his heart break? God... he’s not equipped for this, he doesn’t know how to be kind, to be gentle, but after all the shit he has done, all the pain and misery he has needlessly made this wondrous, incredible, sad fucking boy go through... he owes it to him to not only try, but to succeed. 

 Even if it fucking kills him... 

 “Shh... hey, it’s okay. Y’ain’t fuckin’ weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c’mon. Stop fightin’ me. Let me take care a’ you. You... you’ve been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you...” 

 With that, he slowly presses the cup against the kid’s lips, and he feels as he struggles, whimpering softly, scared. Shit, he... he prolly has no idea what the fuck is going on, is so fucking disoriented... 

 He begins whispering to the kid then, not knowing what to say, but just... knowing he has to say something, something soothing. He hums softly as he decides to just... let the soft words that he’s been gathering for weeks now out of his heart, telling Kiyotaka that he is there, that he will always be there, promising that he’s not alone, that he’ll never be alone again, that Mondo will take care of him, he promises... he promises... 

 And then he... he says...

 “Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I’m beggin’ ya man... just... drink some water...” 

 The kid... Kiyotaka stops struggling then, and finally, finally opens his lips. It’s just a little, a small amount, but it’s enough for a small trickle of water to get passed his dry and cracked lips, which is so fucking relieving. But then... then the kid startles again, a soft sound of distress getting released as he panics, taking too much water too quick. Oh, shit... 

 So fucking scared, not knowing what to do but knowing he has to do something, Mondo lowers the hand holding the cup but doesn’t put it down, moving his other hand to rub soothing circles on the kid’s back, shushing him softly. 

 “Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That’s it, nice an’ easy... I’m gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot.”

 With that, Mondo moves his hand back to Kiyotaka’s neck and brings the cup back up to his lips, praying that he will drink this time. He’s so fucking dehydrated and if he won’t drink, Mondo is gonna have to call an ambulance or some shit, because he needs liquid, and fast. 

 Luckily, this time when he asks the kid to open up, he does so immediately. And then, when he tips a little of the liquid into his mouth, the kid doesn’t panic and just... sips it. Slowly. Mondo can see his throat working, moving slowly, swallowing the water, and fuck... he’s never felt so relieved in his life, watching the kid drink some fucking water, god... 

 However, then the kid is letting out a sound of desperation, seeming to realize that he is so fucking thirsty or something. He sees the kid’s hands try to come up, wavering so fucking much as they try and force the water down faster, but Mondo stops him, knowing he needs to go slow. 

 “Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can’t drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won’t let you down. Not again. I… I promise.”

 And he means it. He fucking means it. He has failed this kid so many fucking times, but he won’t this time, and he never will again. Because now he... he knows that this kid fucking matters. He’s always known that, from the minute the kid had run into him and knocked his world on its side, but- but he... he’s always been so afraid of it. Of the feeling. Of what it means. 

 But he’s not afraid of it. Not now. Not... not anymore. He doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this boy matters so fucking much to him, but it just doesn’t matter now, and he refuses to let his goddamn fucking nonsense ruin this shit anymore. This kid has faced some truly horrible fucking things, things that Mondo has barely scratched the surface of but can tell have damaged the kid so fucking much. He has scars all over his chest and back, which Mondo has noticed before, of course he’s noticed them, but now he’s really starting to realize what exactly they mean, and it just... it’s fucking him up inside, and all he wants is to bundle this kid up and never let him get hurt again, keep him safe from all harm, and Mondo has always felt like that, always wanted that, but now, for once...

 He’s not afraid of it. 

 And he won’t back down. 

 Not unless Kiyotaka wants him to...

 (But even then. Even then, Mondo will do everything he can to keep him safe. He won’t stalk the kid, but he will make sure that no one dares to lay a finger on him. He’s firmly under Mondo’s protection now. Nothing will change that. Absolutely nothing.) 

 Knowing that Kiyotaka needs to drink more, so he’s not so weak (physically. He’s so fucking strong emotionally, so fucking strong) anymore, he presses the cup back to the boy’s lips, his heart lurching softly when the kid immediately opens up and drinks, slowly, not even needing Mondo to remind him to go slow and steady. Mondo is so fucking proud of the kid, like a fucking mother hen, but he doesn’t care. This kid deserves all the softness in the world. If there’s one thing Mondo is sure of, it’s that. 

 It doesn’t take long for the cup to run empty, but the kid needs more, so Mondo gets up to refill the cup. But then he’s fucking crying, sad and pitiful, and Mondo immediately returns, holding him close, saying to him, “aw, shit, I’m just getting more water, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

 And when Mondo is forced to leave again— though god does he not want to— he keeps talking. Promising that he’ll be right back, that he’s not leaving, that he will never leave again... promises that he will never break, and not just because he doesn’t break promises, but because he fucking means the shit out of them. More than any promise he’s ever made before. 

 He’s back soon after, bringing two cups with him this time, helping Kiyotaka drink, and drink, and drink. Mondo doesn’t know much about severe dehydration, just knows that it’s important for the person to be given fluids, preferably sports drinks, but since he doesn’t have that shit, water will have to do. If Kiyotaka doesn’t get better after the third cup, Mondo’s gonna try and see if he can take him to the nurse if the lady is still there. If not... shit. He’ll prolly have to call an ambulance, since he doesn’t think Kiyotaka could handle riding on his hog to the hospital, which is at least a ten-minute ride away. He’s hoping he won’t have to do that, though. Hopes that drinking the water will be enough to help him. He also hopes that it’s just dehydration that’s the problem... fuck. 

 The good thing is that Kiyotaka is drinking willingly. And the more he drinks, the more lucid he appears. He still seems very out of it, but about halfway through the third cup, he starts blinking rapidly, like waking himself from a dream. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts looking around a bit. He takes in the bathhouse and even looks down at his chest, like he’s just then noticing that he’s half naked. Mondo allows him to do this, but always makes sure the kid is still drinking, wanting to make sure he gets at least three cups in, since he had to have lost a lot of water while sweating. Mondo himself isn’t feeling too hot and knows he needs to drink more, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t ensure that Kiyotaka is okay before doing anything else for himself. 

 Mondo knows the exact second that things slot into place for the kid, since one second he’s loose and pliant in his arms, allowing him to hold his neck and give him the water, and the next he’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes wide. It startles Mondo a bit and he straightens up from the hunch he’d found himself in, so fucking relieved to see some lucidity in those bright red eyes. Fuck, but was that glazed look terrifying... 

 “Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin’ scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was ‘bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?” 

 The kid is just staring at him, his skin far too pale, his eyes moving back and forth over Mondo’s face as he seems to try to be figuring something out. They then widen somehow further and then-

 “Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!”

 Mondo stares wide eyed at the kid as he abruptly stands, his body shaking horribly, looking like he just saw a ghost, shit... Mondo is afraid the kid is about to collapse so he stands quickly, hands hovering to ensure he doesn’t fall, but the kid doesn’t seem to notice him. Oh... shit... he’s not better, is he? God fucking dammit...

 “W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn’t... oh god...” 

 Mondo sees Kiyotaka sway then, looking like he’s about to faint, scaring the absolute shit out of Mondo. Rushing forward, he grabs the kid by his shoulders, holding him upright. Part of him wants to pull him close, to wrap him up and never let him go, but he can tell the kid is super fucking freaked out, and he doesn’t want to make him panic, shit. 

 “What the fuck... aw, shit, y’ain’t better. Okay, that’s it. I’m takin’ ya ta the fuckin’ nurse. Goddamnit...” 

 Mondo tries to move Kiyotaka, then, carefully guiding him over to the door so they can make the stupidly long walk to the nurse’s office, mind racing a mile a minute as he tries to determine if it wouldn’t just be better to call the ambulance now. On one hand, he doubts the nurse is still there, since it’s well after curfew, but on the other... calling for an ambulance means he might have to explain this shit, and he just... shit. But he needs to do right by Kiyotaka, and if that includes getting himself in trouble, he’ll fucking do it. He doesn’t care what happens to him, just as long as this wonderful, incredible boy is safe. Huh...

 As distracted as Mondo is, he doesn’t expect any resistance to his movement, expecting Kiyotaka to be as pliant as he previously had been. As such, when the kid fucking pulls away from him, weak as it is, Mondo isn’t expecting it and thus is unable to keep his grip. And he watches, heart stopping, as the kid slams into the row of lockers, collapsing immediately to the ground with a soft noise of pain. 

 Shit!!!

 “Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin’ alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein’ an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!” 

 He doesn’t mean to sound angry or anything, he’s just so fucking scared, needing the kid to cooperate so he can just get better already and not make Mondo worry he’s gonna fucking die or something... but given the way that Kiyotaka glares at him (or tries to glare, Mondo can tell he’s still a little out of it and can’t quite put the usual amount of passion into it), he can tell the kid intends to be difficult, looking at him like he doesn’t want Mondo to come any closer or something. Mondo immediately says, ‘fuck that,’ though, and rushes to the kid’s side, kneeling down, his eyes bleeding with his concern. He watches the kid blink, some more lucidity rising within the red, as he opens his mouth to speak. 

 “W-wait! I don’t... dang it. I don’t need to go to the- t-the nurse! I’m just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!” Kiyotaka says, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Mondo looks at him firmly, ensuring the kid means it and that he’s not just saying random, nonsense bullshit again. 

 Once he’s satisfied that the kid is, in fact, lucid enough to make that decision, he nods stiffly, still feeling so very, very concerned. 

 “Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck...”

 Mondo stands, then, and walks over to the water cooler again, hands tingling unpleasantly as he leaves Kiyotaka’s side. He quickly fills up two fresh cups of water and hurries back, handing the kid one of the cups as soon as he is by his side. 

 As soon as the kid takes it, Mondo flops down to sit beside him, so close they touch, and begins to drink his water, finding comfort in being able to feel the kid warm against his side. He is honestly thirsty as fuck, wanting to gulp it down again, but he forces himself to go slow, not wanting to be a hypocrite. He notices after a second that Kiyotaka isn’t drinking and is just staring at him blankly, eyes glazing over again, which scares him more than he is willing to say, fuck. 

 “Dude. Drink. Or I’m draggin’ ya ta the nurse, kickin’ an’ screamin’. Don’t think I won’t,” Mondo rumbles, startling the kid out of whatever fugue he’d entered into. The kid glares at him lightly, not nearly as strong as Mondo knows it could be, but at least he doesn’t try and counter him. He just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks hard about something. They don’t glaze over again, though, so Mondo lets him be and just drinks his water, every cell in his body so fucking aware of the kid sitting directly beside him. It honestly would scare him, how much he cares about this kid, if he’d not already decided to not care about that shit anymore. He cares about the kid. He doesn’t know why, he just does. End of fucking story. 

 Mondo doesn’t know how long they sit there drinking their water, and he doesn’t really care. He usually hates sitting still for so long, his skin crawling to get up and do something already, but strangely... he doesn’t really mind it too much. Sitting here, beside Kiyotaka. It... despite the worry he still feels, there’s also a strange calmness inside him now. Like... like something inside him that had been out of place and broken for years is just... gone, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time. It’s so strange but also... so very, very nice...

 Eventually their cups run empty, and Mondo is about to offer to get them both some more water again when the kid speaks. His voice is low and shaky, but it sounds a lot better and more lucid than it had before, which relieves the shit out of him. But then he comprehends the words, and he...

 “O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn’t, um. Say anything strange. Did I?” Kiyotaka asks softly, looking very nervous. It concerns Mondo a lot that the kid apparently doesn’t remember what happened in the sauna, but he supposes it makes sense. He had been super fucking outta it... 

 He still takes his time to think about it. He usually just blurts out his words, no thought put into them at all, but this... shit. This matters. And he has to be so fucking careful if he doesn’t want to hurt the kid again. And god, does he not wanna do that... 

 Finally, he figures he’ll go the safe route and figure out what, exactly, the kid does and doesn’t remember. If he remembers nothing, then maybe... maybe it would be better to keep it that way, shit... 

 Ignoring the way his heart clenches at the thought, he sets his face into a carefully neutral expression, revealing nothing as he speaks, voice a low rumble. 

 “That depends. What do ya remember?”

 Mondo watches, heart clenched strangely again, as Kiyotaka bites his lip gently, eyes unfocused as he thinks. They’re not glazed, though, so Mondo thinks he’s just concentrating, not zoning out. After a few moments, the kid glances up at him, expression open and searching. It makes Mondo want to gasp, everything in him swirling, and when the kid speaks, still looking at him, he... h-he... 

 “I’m… I’m not sure. It’s all... fuzzy. I can’t quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts.” Kiyotaka pauses, his hands shaking lightly. He looks away then, down at the ground, and Mondo feels so strangely bereaved... “But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!” 

 The kid sounds nervous, frantic, like he’s afraid Mondo will hurt him, like he’s afraid Mondo will laugh at him, will tell him that he... he’s wrong, that Mondo hadn’t said that, that he... he doesn’t believe that...

 Which is bullshit. Because he did say that. And he’d meant it. Means it. Fully and completely. 

 Mondo consciously forces his shoulders to lose the tension that had entered them unbidden at Kiyotaka’s frantic words, sighing softly, a wry smile rising on his lips as he looks at the kid. The kid looks so fucking scared, so desperate, like he doesn’t believe that Mondo had said that shit, but that he wants to believe it. 

 And, shit... even if he hadn’t said it, he sure as shit would say it now. Because Kiyotaka truly is wonderful and special, ain’t he...? 

 Heh... 

 “Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don’t remember what you said?” he asks as casually as he can, his head tilted in question, hoping he’s hiding the way his heart is racing well enough, but honestly not really caring if he’s not. He... he doesn’t want to keep shit from this kid. Not... not anymore... he watches as Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, moving his eyes to stare at his hands again. It makes Mondo’s smile widen, eyes soft as silk. Heh. So... so fucking cute...

 “Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren’t exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin’ bits a’ nonsense. Could barely make sense a’ ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin’... somethin’ ‘bout yer grandfather. ‘Bout needin’ ta right his wrongs. An’ then there was somethin’ ‘bout other kids? An’ hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don’t understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin’. An’ ‘bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin’ bullshit, ya shouldn’t fuckin’ hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a’ other stuff too. ‘Bout not givin’ up, ‘bout havin’ ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don’t really ‘member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla’ that?” 

 Mondo doesn’t really mean to ask the question, knowing the kid needs to be allowed to rest and relax, not be asked stupid fucking questions, but he can’t help it. He’s not lying when he says he doesn’t quite remember everything. It’s all starting to blur in his head, and while he’s fairly certain he remembers the most of it, some details are starting to slip away, and he just... did the kid really say all that shit, or had he imagined it, too? Shit...

 But then... then, after a moment, Kiyotaka, he... h-he...

 “Aw, shit,” he mutters under his breath, which seems to just make the kid cry harder. It breaks Mondo’s heart so much, hating seeing his tears. God... this kid just always fucking cries around him, doesn’t he...? Shit... shit! H-he didn’t want to make the kid cry! G-god, he... he wants so badly to hold the kid, to keep him safe from the sorrow within him, but would the kid even want that? After everything he’s done, all he’s taken from him, would he actually want to be held in his arms? It’s his fault he’s crying, his fault he’s in this situation, and he doesn’t know if Kiyotaka would want to be anywhere near him, let alone in his arms! But he... he wants so, so badly to... t-to...

 “Please, man, don’t cry, shit, I’m sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here.” 

 Mind made up, Mondo darts forward and— carefully as he possibly can— wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him gently to his chest, firm and tight. He can feel the kid struggle against him, and it kills him inside to feel it, especially when the kid starts frantically apologizing, like he thinks Mondo is going to hurt him or something. He thinks it might be best to let him go, to apologize and never touch him again, but he... h-he thinks the problem isn’t that Mondo is hugging him, but that the kid thinks Mondo is upset. So maybe... if he can reassure the kid that it’s okay, that he wants this, maybe... m-maybe he’ll stop struggling so hard... and maybe... m-maybe...

 “Shhh. Shh, c’mon. It’s okay, Kiyotaka. I’m here. Y’ain’t alone. I got you. Ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We’re both okay.” 

 He keeps his arms steady on Kiyotaka, praying to any god that will listen that he’s doing the right thing, that he’s not hurting the kid more, that this is okay, and then... after a minute... after a minute...

 The kid stops. Stops struggling, stops apologizing. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are still leaking tears, but he doesn’t seem distressed at Mondo holding him anymore. At least... Mondo hopes he isn’t. And then... t-then...

 Kiyotaka buries his head in his chest, firm and present, hiding his face. His arms come up too, fists curling into Mondo’s tank top, clutching it like his life depends on it. And then he... he just...

 Lets go.

 The kid is crying so fucking hard, chest heaving, sobs loud and noisy, and fuck, does it hurt. Mondo feels so fucking helpless as he holds the kid, doing all he can to rub soothing circles on his back, whisper soft words in his ear, doing all he can to remember the shit Daiya would say when he was little and he still allowed himself to cry, not yet realizing it was wrong of him to do such a thing. He feels like it’s not enough, never enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen the kid cry so hard before. Before he- he would always stifle it, keep it in. 

 Mondo hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing the kid truly let go now, he can see just how hard he would fight to keep his tears and true sorrow contained, and he feels so much for the boy that he can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like... a sad kind of pride. Like he’s proud the kid was able to keep going despite the sorrow and despair he clearly feels, but also so, so fucking sad that the kid had to do it. That he had to keep this all in, unable to have anyone to share his burden with, to shoulder the pain and anguish he so clearly feels inside. Mondo... M-Mondo knows what that is like, what it’s like to have to always keep everything in, never let it out, and he... he hates that Kiyotaka knows it, too. The pain.  The loneliness. 

 Maybe they really aren’t so different... are they? 

 Fuck... and who knows? Maybe that’s why he’s always cared so much about this kid. He... he just reminds him of him so goddamn much. Of... of the kid he used to be, before he built up walls so high around that child that he’d never see the light of day again. Of the scared little boy that he was, wondering why his parents hated him, why he was never good enough, why he didn’t fucking matter. He’d always been so scared and sad back then, so small and weak. Kinda like Kiyotaka is now, even with how fucking strong he knows this kid to usually be. 

 But...

 But he had Daiya, didn’t he? Even when the whole world was against him, (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) he... he always had Daiya. Daiya, who loved him. Daiya, who cared for him. Daiya who raised him, Daiya who taught him, Daiya who sacrificed fucking everything for him. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~). It didn’t matter that he was scared, or that he was weak. Daiya loved him regardless, and he always, always kept him safe. 

 Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka never had that... did he? He can’t say for sure, but the kid has never mentioned a sibling, either older or younger, which makes him think he’s an only, no sibs, bro or sis. Which means that he... he didn’t have anyone always on his side. Someone who would protect him no matter what. Or someone that he could protect, no matter what. His da is clearly not that great, if Kiyotaka’s words about him hating him were to go by, and his ma is gone, who knows for how long, or what his relationship was to her when she was around. He... he didn’t have someone to protect him... to keep him safe, from all harm... to... t-to love him...

 Eventually the kid stops crying so hard, the desperate sobs petering out into soft, quiet ones, his breath hitching only slightly every few seconds. And then, a little while later he... he stops sobbing entirely. The tears have run dry, his body has stopped shaking, but he... he doesn’t move away. He just stays there, in Mondo’s arms. 

 Like he belongs there... 

 “Ya feelin’ better?”

 The words are said softly. Gently. He doesn’t wanna spook the kid, knowing how fragile he prolly feels right about now. Mondo gets it. He hasn’t let himself cry fully in years, not even... h-heh. Well. Point is, while he’s not truly cried in years, he remembers how fragile it leaves you feeling afterward. How shaky. 

 And when he sees Kiyotaka’s eyes dart up, looking scared and afraid, Mondo doesn’t tense up. Doesn’t try and hide the openness on his face. He lets the kid see it. The softness. The care. The... the affection, because god, does he feel affection. He lets the kid see it, and he feels the kid settle against him, the fear vanishing, though the lingering sorrow remains. God... how Mondo wishes he could take that away...

 “Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I’m sorry...”

 Mondo can’t help the way he reaches out at that, hand gently grasping a warm, wet cheek. He realizes absently that that’s the first time the kid has said his name, and god is it making his insides squirm. And he can see the kid look at him with wide, watery eyes, lips open on a soft gasp, looking almost... dazed... shit...

 “Don’t. Thank me. Apologize. Ain’t nothin’, got it? I... I didn’t mind. At all. So, don’t... don’t apologize. It’s alright. You’re... you’re alright.” 

 And he means it. God... does he mean it. It... it had felt nice. So very, very nice. Holding Kiyotaka. Comforting him as he cried, somehow not fucking it up as badly as he’d been fearing. He’s always been so fucking shit at comforting people, feeling like he has to be tough all the time, unable to comfort since tough people aren’t soft and sympathetic. But here, with Kiyotaka... h-he’d been able to be soft. Kind. Gentle. All the things he’s secretly yearned to be for so fucking long, but never was able to, since he doesn’t lead a life that is suited for such things. He always has to be so tough, so strong, but... but with Kiyotaka... with this wondrous, amazing, incredible, beautiful boy...

 He can be soft. 

 And he will never be able to thank Kiyotaka enough for giving him that ability. 

 And when Kiyotaka smiles at him, wide, bright, unrestrained...? Mondo can’t help how he smiles back, wider than he’s ever felt it go before, heart beating so softly and yet meaningfully, feeling so very much for this precious boy. He... he’ll never be able to repay him for this... will he? For what he has given him this day... even if they are never this close again, even if Kiyotaka doesn’t want anything to do with him after this, he’ll never forget what this felt like. What it feels like to be soft. And gentle. And... and kind. 

 But... shit. Shit. 

 Now that they have this... now that he’s tasted this... what happens now? He... he doesn’t wanna... 

 “Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don’t wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I... goddamn it,” Mondo mutters, feeling his smile fade as pain fills him, remembering all the shit he has done to this poor, amazing kid. The shit he’s said. The way he’s acted. Kiyotaka gave him so much today, but he hadn’t earned any of it, had he...? He can see the kid shaking his head, looking frantic, like he doesn’t agree, and Mondo can’t help how he glares. Lightly, but it still makes the kid flinch back, proving how much he’s hurt him, and how much he can still, potentially, hurt him. God... he doesn’t wanna ever hurt him... not again… “No, don’t deny it. I was a fuckin’ moron. I just... I ain’t ever... I don’t get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me...” 

 And it’s true. He still doesn’t quite get it. What he feels. Why he feels it. It... he thinks he might kinda get it, might kinda realize what this feeling is, why he wants to protect this kid so badly, but it... it doesn’t quite feel like it fits. And he just... he just doesn’t know... but... if not this then... what else? H-heh... 

 Sighing softly, feeling so confused but strangely not angry about it, Mondo allows a wry smile to rise on his lips as he presses closer to the kid, as close as he’s always secretly longed to be, since that first day when he held him but not ever close enough. One of his hands is curled loosely around Kiyotaka’s waist, while his other is still gently cupping his cheek and has been for a little while now. He notices dimly how they are almost bare, Kiyotaka wearing only his underwear while Mondo is in his thin tank top and loose black pants, and he can feel the kid’s heat as it presses against him, oddly intoxicating. Mondo’s hair is down from its pomp, having been knocked loose sometime in the sauna, and it’s been years since someone outside his gang saw him without it up, it makes him feel so naked to have it down, but he... he doesn’t really care. Not when it’s only Kiyotaka who sees it. 

 He... he wants Kiyotaka to see all of him... every last part. 

 Because he... he views the kid like... like a... 

 “It’s like yer my brother or somethin’. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he’s gone now. I can’t... I couldn’t protect him, fuck. An’ I… f-fuck. I can’t protect you, either, can I...?  No, I… I can’t... I can’t... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit...” 

 The thought stabs Mondo through the heart, the realization that as much as he may want to have this with Kiyotaka, to have a brotherhood with him, they... they likely never will. Because Mondo has messed up too much. Because Mondo ruined their chance before it ever even had the opportunity to live. Because Mondo is so fucking broken and damaged that no one in their right mind would ever want him as a brother. Daiya was forced to have him, and he was so fucking amazing that he chose to love him anyway, but Kiyotaka... he doesn’t have to be stuck with him. He doesn’t owe Mondo anything, anything at all. In fact, Mondo is the one who owes Kiyotaka. So much. So very, very much. Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him. He just... he wouldn’t. 

 And as he feels the kid freeze against him, breath stuttering and harsh, he... he knows he’s right, isn’t he? S-shit... he shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have thought himself good enough to deserve such a gift. Kiyotaka, wanting him like that... wanting him at all... while he may have been soft and pliant in his arms a moment ago, seeming like he was at ease, that doesn’t mean it was because of Mondo or anything that Mondo did. He’d been through an emotional time and he’d needed comfort, and Mondo had just been the nearest warm body. Doesn’t mean he trusts Mondo or that he wants anything from him at all. He’d have to be the world’s biggest fool to think Kiyotaka could ever want him, want him at all. 

 And Mondo... he may be a fool, but he ain’t that big of a fool. 

 Heart aching painfully in his chest, Mondo can’t help how he pulls away, not wanting to force Kiyotaka to be near him when he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve it at all.

 “Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!” 

 Mondo hands come up to clutch at his hair, then, the grip tight and painful but he doesn’t care. He wants it to hurt. To ache. It’s what he deserves for fucking this whole thing up, for being so woefully unworthy of being close to such a bright and beautiful boy. Maybe, had he been better— a better person, a good person— he could have been worthy of it. Had he never let his insecurities get in the way, had he just accepted what he felt as true the minute he felt it, not pushed it away in fear, maybe... maybe then, he could have had this. Kiyotaka, as his friend. Kiyotaka, as his brother. 

 But no. No, no. He had pushed it away. Had been afraid of it, so very afraid. Had let his fear turn to anger, like he was so wont to do, and ruined everything before it even began. 

 He deserves all the misery he feels for how stupid he’d been... 

 Mondo gets jolted out of his thoughts when he feels a soft, tentative hand touch him, his eyes wide and manic as he looks at Kiyotaka, who looks so fucking afraid, god. H-he scares the kid so goddamn much, like he scares everyone, because he’s a monster, a senseless beast that only ever hurts people. Breaks people. He’s not allowed nice things, not allowed good things. Not allowed to be gentle, or soft, or kind. He... he’s just not... 

 To his utter shock, he can see Kiyotaka smile at him. It’s soft, and hesitant, and... and beautiful... but it can’t be real. It... the kid is trying to be kind, trying to hide his fear to make Mondo feel better, because he’s so goddamn nice, so fucking good, shit- 

 “N-no! Don’t worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I’ve never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn’t imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you’re incredible...” 

 He... he... does he really mean that...? Does he truly... truly wanna be Mondo’s... Mondo’s brother? The kid is so bad at lying, and it hadn’t sounded like he was lying, but... but it... shit. It can’t be true, it can’t... after all the shit Mondo has done, how could the kid ever see him positively, even a little? Mondo isn’t a good brother, he’d always been so shit to Daiya, taking and taking and taking and never giving. He’d taken everything from Daiya, never satisfied with what Daiya gave freely, so he stole the most important thing in the end. 

 H-he’d just steal everything from Kiyotaka too. 

 It’s what he does... 

 “Ya can’t mean that, Kiyotaka... I’m a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m hot dog shit, ya can’t... y-you can’t...”

 And it’s true. Mondo has more to say, more to confess, but his throat is so thick, and he doesn’t know how to say it. To confess all his crimes to Kiyotaka, to let him know how unworthy he is. He- he hears Kiyotaka take a deep breath, and he doesn’t wanna hear what the kid has to say, doesn’t wanna hear him agree, but then he’s speaking, and his words... t-they... 

 “Mondo... I- I’m not perfect. I... I’m not. B-but that’s okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that’s all that matters! You’re not... dog feces! You... you’re so much more, Mondo...” 

 No... n-no, the kid, he... he doesn’t understand, he just- he doesn’t understand! Mondo, he has to... has to tell him. N-not all of it, he’s not strong enough to confess it all, he’s always been so goddamn weak, but he- he has to... a little. Enough so the kid knows. So he stops feeling pity for him and realizes that he... 

 He’s just not worth it... 

 “No. N-no, I ain’t shit, goddamnit, I...” Mondo has to stop, feeling so fucking conflicted. On one hand he wants to confess, on the other hand he wants to be selfish, and he just... h-he just... 

 But he can’t. Be selfish. Not... not about this. 

 Not with Kiyotaka. 

 With a soft sigh, he feels the tension inside him melt away, his body relaxing with the decision he’s made. All of his emotions— both good and bad— fade away until all he feels inside is... is...

 Cold resignation...

 “I hate myself. Always fuckin’ have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin’ said it. I love the gang, don’t get me wrong. I love bein’ with ‘em, bein’ a part a’ somethin’ bigger than myself. I love leadin’ ‘em, ridin’ my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin’ love it. Even bein’ here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin’ the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an’ shit. Means somethin’, ‘least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle ofa fight and I’ll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin’... do somethin’ else fer a change. But I… heh. I can’t. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I’d keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an’ I... I can’t leave that. I made a promise, a man’s promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin’ that. Can’t stop. Ever. Not ‘til the gang is dead an’ shit, all the members movin’ on ta do better shit with their lives. An’ me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?”

 Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face. 

 “But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin’ fer the moon. Prime fuckin’ Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin’ ‘bout yer plans an’ shit. Wantin’ ta make the world a better place, havin’ such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya’ve got drive. Determination. An’ I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a’ the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, ‘least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that ‘bout ya, always did.”

 Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It’s sad, and pathetic, and it... he... h-heh...

 “But that… heh. That ain’t me, Kiyo. Ain’t me. I ain’t got plans, ain’t got any fuckin’ clue a’ what I’m gonna do after school ends. They got me takin’ fuckin’ leadership classes an’ shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That’s ‘bout it, Christ. An’ ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I’ll be happy fer ya, ‘course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit...” 

 Mondo doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or why he’s saying it. His head is so jumbled, so scrambled, and part of him wants to tell Kiyotaka everything. About his parents. About his brother. About what he did, what he stole. He wants to confess so, so badly, to see the hatred and anger and rage on that kid’s face when he realizes how big a piece of shit Mondo really is, horrified that he’d ever felt pity for such a pitiless creature. 

 But...

 He can’t. Can’t do that. He... he can’t burden Kiyotaka with his bullshit. And knowing the kid... he’d still try. To feel pity. To feel sorrow. He- he’s such a good person, so bright and shining. He’s the kind of person who would see a merciless and dangerous monster like him and think there’s something worthwhile in it. It wouldn’t be until his neck is snapped under Mondo’s uncaring hand that he’d realize he was wrong. And maybe... maybe not even then. He’d die, thinking Mondo was better than he was, even if it were Mondo who killed him. 

 God...

 So, he can’t tell the truth. Can’t burden the kid like that. But he... he can’t let him get close. Even if he... he really wants to... 

 “I’ll just hold ya back. Ya don’t want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don’t want someone like me at all. So... I ‘ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget ‘bout this all and just... move on. I’ll leave ya alone and ya won’t hafta-”

 “No!” Mondo hears echo through the room, cutting off his words so thoroughly. It startles the fuck out of him, and he can’t help how he stares, wide-eyed, up at Kiyotaka. It’s weird, looking up to see the kid, but he’s sitting upright, almost standing but not quite, knees firmly planted on the floor. But seeing as how Mondo is crumbled pathetically on the floor, sitting back on his thighs, he has to look up to see Kiyotaka. And he looks... looks so...

 Scared...

 But...

 Not... not of- of... of Mondo...? 

 “Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I’m not! And I know you aren’t either! But... but maybe that’s okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don’t know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don’t care about your flaws; I don’t care that you’re in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!” 

 Brothers. Brothers. Kiyotaka wants them to be... brothers...

 It’s too good to be true. Too fucking good to be true. Mondo doesn’t get nice things like this. He doesn’t get soft, kind, gentle things. He gets shit. He gets cruelty. He gets anger and hatred and rage. He gets angry fists and cruel words, and a suspicious look on his back at all fucking times. After all the shit he has done, the people he has hurt, the lives he has ruined, he... he doesn’t deserve... he just doesn’t... 

 But as he sits there, staring up at Kiyotaka with wide eyes and an open mouth, he... he remembers something. Something the kid had said, in the sauna. How he... he never had a friend before. How everyone always hated him. And it could have just been insecurity talking, the kid thinking people hated him when they really didn’t but judging by the scars, he... he would doubt that. 

 He’s never had a friend. He’s never had a brother. Someone to keep him safe. To protect him from all harm. Someone to hold onto, someone to tell him it is alright. That he is alright. He... he hasn’t had that. 

 And Mondo is the worst choice for a brother. He knows it, okay? He’s so fucking awful it’s not funny. But... but he... the kid doesn’t seem to get that. And Mondo is too weak to explain why he shouldn’t want it. And, as such, he... Kiyotaka wants to be friends. Brothers. With him. 

 Mondo is a mess. He messes everything up, ruining everything he touches. He... he doesn’t want to ruin Kiyotaka too. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He... he never...

 But maybe...

 Maybe...

 It’s stupid. God, so fucking stupid. But maybe... if he tries hard, so fucking hard... if he is careful, keeps his anger in check, does all he can, he... maybe he...

 He can be Kiyotaka’s brother...

 And keep him safe...

 It makes him smile. It’s small at first, tentative. Like a stiff wind will blow it away. But as Kiyotaka keeps looking at him steadily, earnestly, he... he feels the smiles strengthen. Feels as it grows wider and wider, until it fills his whole face, his eyes squinting with how wide it is. He’s never felt like this before, so scared and terrified, but also... also... 

 Hopeful.

 “Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?” 

 Kiyo. Mondo doesn’t really know why he’s calling the kid that, nicknames aren’t super common in their culture, but somehow, he... he kinda likes it. He doesn’t know if the kid does, he should ask, but before he has the chance to, the kid is nodding. Enthusiastic and bright, a shaky grin on his face. He still seems a little out of it, but god, is he trying... fuck that kid is so amazing...

 “Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You’ll see! Aha! This is fantastic!”

 Oh, god... this kid is so fucking cute! God... h-he really shouldn’t be thinking that, should push it away like he always pushes stupid ass thoughts like that away, but he... he’s allowed to see his brother as cute... right? Or, well... his little brother. Though... fuck. Is Kiyotaka younger than him? He seems like it, as naive and endlessly optimistic as he is, but fuck, he doesn’t actually know. Mondo is usually one of the youngest in his class, since his birthday is at the end of the year, but he’s always felt decades older than the chucklefucks he goes to school with. Maybe it’s ‘cuz he was forced to grow up so fucking fast in order to survive, shit. 

 But you know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if Mondo is older or not. He’s the older brother regardless. That shit is felt, not necessarily determined by birth order. Daiya was his older brother in more ways than just because he was physically older, after all.  

 At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that... that Kiyotaka wants this. Wants... wants Mondo. And Mondo doesn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, but fuck, is he a selfish bastard. But he won’t take this shit for granted. Now that they are brothers, Mondo will go all fucking out. No fucking reservations. They are brothers, now, and Mondo is the big brother. The ani. It’s his duty and obligation to keep Kiyotaka safe from all harm, including (and especially) from Mondo himself. And he won’t. Hurt him. Not now, not ever. If he ever does, he will stab himself in the gut, commit fucking seppuku, he swears he will. He’d rather die than hurt this precious, amazing, incredible boy ever, ever again. 

 And so, Mondo grins, and he laughs, and he lets his arms reach forward and wrap around the kid, like he’s been wanting to do since he ripped himself away the last time. Part of him is afraid the kid won’t want it, or he���ll realize how stupid this whole thing is, but Kiyotaka doesn’t even tense at all as he goes willingly into Mondo’s arms, melting like warm putty against him. Like he... he belongs there...

 S-shit... 

 “Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I’ll do my best. I can’t promise ya anythin’, know I’m a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I’ll try. That... that’s all I can offer... heh…” 

 It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but he feels Kiyotaka wrap his arms around him, holding on so very, very tight, and it... it feels...

 Like coming home... 

 “That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you’re not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!”

 Shit. Shit. No one... no one has ever told him that before. That the best he offers is more than enough. It’s never been enough, he’s never been enough. He’s a screw up. The unwanted kid. The person who is good for violence and anger and rage, and that’s about it. 

 But here, being held by this remarkable fucking kid... hearing him say that it’s enough... that he’s enough…

 Maybe he’s inclined to believe him. 

 Wow... just...

 Wow...

 After a minute Mondo pulls back, knowing they need to talk about stuff, knowing he has to make promises, and it makes his heart sing when he feels the kid resist, arms refusing to let go at first. It makes him laugh softly, especially because he fully understands. But he doesn’t intend to go far. Just... he needs to look the kid in the eyes. He... he needs to see those beautiful as sin eyes...

 Pressing his forehead to Kiyotaka’s, soft and gentle and intimate, he can’t help how he smiles, eyes shining with the light he feels inside. And Kiyotaka... he...

 He looks at Mondo like he fucking matters... 

 “I’ll be good. Fer ya... I’ll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it.” 

 The kid looks stunned, eyes glazed but not in a bad way, breath hitched, and it... it makes Mondo feel...

 “Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That’s a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!” 

 The enthusiastic words make Mondo laugh again, and he pulls away to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently like Daiya would always do to him. He notices that the hair is a bit longer than it once had been, and fuck, does he like it. The sweat from the sauna had made all the gel run out and his hair is now soft as it dries, curling lightly around the kid’s ears and it just...

 It’s so beautiful... 

 But ruffling the kid’s hair makes it fall in his eyes, which makes the kid let out an annoyed sound, adorable again, and Mondo can’t help the way he laughs. God, this kid makes him so goddamn happy... he’s never felt this happy before... never...

 “Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka’s just a bit of a mouthful, ‘sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?” 

 He looks at the kid at that, Kiyotaka’s (or should he say Kiyo? Does the kid like it? Shit...) mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. A moment passes, and then- 

 “A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you’d like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you’d like...” 

 Taka, huh? Taka. Taka. Yeah... yeah, he- he likes it. He likes it a lot! It suits the kid, and while Mondo still does kinda like Kiyo, he might like Taka a bit better. And if the kid wants him to call him that, then shit... who is he to deny him...?

 Smiling, soft and gentle in a way he’s never been able to be before, he nods. 

 “Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain’t exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya’d like.”

 Mondo watches as Taka blushes lightly, lips still partially open as he breathes in and out slowly. His eyes are kinda glazed still, but he seems present enough. Just... like he’s thinking of something. Mondo wants to reach out, wants to pull the kid into a hug again, wants to always, always be touching him, but he keeps his distance. Just... just for now. But later... 

 The kid shoots up again, interrupting Mondo’s thoughts, looking so enthusiastic again, eyes bright and smile happy. Holy shit...

 “Oh! I can always call you kyoudai!! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!” 

 It makes Mondo laugh again, harder, and he can’t help how he reaches out to ruffle his hair again, needing to touch him at least a little. Kyoudai, huh? ... yeah. Yeah, he likes that, too. Daiya was always ani to him, the proper name for the big brother, and Daiya usually called him shit like ‘kid’ or whatever, so it’s not like Taka calling him that will bring up any bad memories or shit. It’s just... something for them. Their own, little thing, for them and no one else. 

 Him and Taka. Taka and him. Two... two kyoudai...

 Incredible... 

 “Alright, Taka. If ya’d like. Now, it’s fuckin’ late. I ain’t even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get ya ta bed.” 

 Mondo stands, then, realizing how fucking late it is. The kid always gets up stupidly early, he remembers Taka saying that once a little while ago, so he knows they should be heading to bed soon. He feels strangely reluctant to do that, never wanting to part from this beautiful boy, but- but he’s the big brother. He has to keep his little brother safe and healthy, and that includes ensuring he gets a good night’s sleep. Even if it means they have to part ways...

 As Mondo stretches, he sees Taka stand as well, his body flushing bright red as he looks down at himself and seems to notice his state of undress. Like he’d forgotten or something. Mondo hadn’t. Not... not for a single second. Shit... 

 He feels his eyes dart down to the kid’s chest, unbidden, and he feels the small smile die on his lips as he sees the long, jagged looking scar that goes from Taka’s collarbone to the bottom of his sternum, right over his heart. How... how the fuck did he get a scar like that...? It doesn’t look like one that would come from surgery or something, since it’s too jagged, and it also doesn’t look accidental. But... but how the fuck... 

 “How’d ya get that? The... the scar?” Mondo finds himself asking softly before he can stop himself, his hand rising absently to trace the length of it. Fuck, but it feels as jagged as it looks... angry and painful. H-he hopes it doesn’t hurt anymore... 

 “A-ah... that...” Taka mutters, his body flushing. It jolts Mondo out of the fucking fugue he entered, and he removes his hand quickly, feeling embarrassed. S-shit... he shouldn’t have asked that, it ain’t his fucking business. Yeah, they’re kyoudai, but that... that don’t mean he’s earned the right to hear the kid’s dark history. He still has to earn that shit. He knows that.

 “Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y’ain’t gotta talk ‘bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin’ an’ sh- stuff. Heh…” 

 Taka blinks at Mondo’s rambling words, which makes him feel strangely nervous. He doesn’t let it take over him, though. Doesn’t let himself get angry. But strangely... the anger he usually feels when embarrassed or nervous just... never showed up in the first place. Huh... 

 He watches, then, heart clenching, as Taka smiles at him, soft and gentle as ever. F-fuck...

 “I... I don’t mind! It’s not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don’t mind you cursing! Much! It... it’s what makes you, you! Just as long as you don’t do it in class or in the halls!”

 He... doesn’t mind him... cursing...???? After all those warnings, all of those detention slips, he truly expects Mondo to believe he doesn’t mind it when Mondo fucking curses? 

 But... huh. He can’t detect a lie in the kid’s words. He looks as earnest as ever, and it just... god. Mondo can’t begin to describe how he feels right now, just that it feels... soft. 

 Taka... Taka makes him feel soft. And fuck, is it not bad... not bad at all... 

 Unsure of what to say, what to do, Mondo just laughs again, since that’s the only thing that even slightly manages to express the softness that he feels inside, and he smiles at the kid gently while nodding. He should feel stupid, ridiculous, but he just... doesn’t. 

 God... 

 He watches then as Taka walks over to the locker he’d used earlier, seeming to want to no longer be partially nude. Mondo doesn’t mind it, has never minded being around naked dudes, but he guesses not everyone can be like that. As the kid dresses, he starts to talk. And the story he tells... 

 “It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn’t well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather,” Taka mutters, voice turning nervous as he talks about his grandfather, glancing at him anxiously. 

 Mondo still isn’t entirely sure what the kid’s deal with his grandfather is, but he can tell it bothers the kid, shit, so he does his best to not look at all judgmental, even though the fact the kid was fucking bullied makes his blood fucking boil... shit. He’d expected it, honestly, but it still fucking angers the fuck out of him, Christ…

 Luckily, it seems his anger at that isn’t too obvious, since the kid continues then, voice less shaky and upset, even though the shit he says... 

 “One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I’d gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster’s car, I’d just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!” 

 Holy. Fucking. Shit.

 Holy shit, holy shit!

 What the goddamn shit?!

 Some goddamn motherfucker... carved that shit into Taka’s chest...?! And how the fuck can Taka sound so casual about it?! Mondo has never felt so much rage directed towards someone he’s never met, but holy fucking shit, that goddamn bastard had better hope Mondo never meets him, or else he is fucking dead. The thought that anyone could ever hurt this wonderful boy in such a way is just so... insane to Mondo. How people can see him and not want to keep him safe from all harm is just... he doesn’t get it. Even when he told himself he hated the kid, he couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting him. Not really. 

 And Taka he... he looks so fucking sad, right now. But also, just... resigned. Like he expects that treatment and, while it sucks, it’s just... life. Which is so much fucking bullshit, holy fucking shit-

 Mondo unintentionally lets out a strangled noise, his anger and rage choking him inside. He sees the kid look up at him and sees panic rise in his face when he sees the anger Mondo so clearly feels. Oh, shit... shit, he’s not mad at Taka, he’s not at all, but he can’t make the anger go away, because... because... 

 “They fuckin’ what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!” 

 He had to have... right? Taka is so gung-ho about rules and shit, he- he must have told on those fuckers and got all of them expelled... r-right? 

 Wrong...

 “A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn’t have mattered, see! The teachers didn’t like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!” 

 W... what? He... he... oh, oh god... n-no... 

 “Y-you... what?” Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. He has never felt so horrified before, a terrifying realization overcoming him. Because he... he was right, wasn’t he? This kid... h-he was abused. Horribly so. 

 By literally fucking everyone, holy fucking shit-!

 “I mean... that’s just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!” 

 Oh. Oh. Oh, this... this poor fucking kid... his poor fucking kyoudai, having to go through that nightmare, actually believing that it was just... normal. Just... how it was. But he... he can’t actually... actually believe he deserved it... r-right...?

 “Goddamnit... that’s why ya keep tellin’ me ta... ta punish ya, ain’t it? Taka, please tell me ya don’t actu’ly think ya deserved that shit?” 

 He can’t. He can’t. Please, god, he... he can’t...

 Mondo watches, heart breaking so thoroughly inside his chest, as Taka looks down at his uniform jacket, the only piece of his get up he’s not yet wearing. He’s frowning gently, like he actually has to fucking think about it, oh god, no...

 “I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don’t know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?” 

 No. No. No. Mondo... he can’t fucking handle this shit. So many things make so much sense now, and he has never hated himself more. For not seeing it sooner. For not allowing himself to care about this boy all along. For maybe even reenforcing this goddamn bullshit, making the kid think he is right, when he sure as shit ain’t. He...

 He can’t help how he moves. Swift and quick. He- he just needs to be near the kid, needs to hold him, reassure him that no, he didn’t. Didn’t at all. He needs to do what he should have done weeks ago, in the laundry room, and reassure that kid that no. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Not... not ever... 

 He stops, though, when he sees Taka look up at him, terror in his eyes, like he... he thinks Mondo is going to fucking hurt him. He wants to go forward, wants to hold the kid so fucking bad, but he doesn’t have that fucking right, so he stays where he is, all the sorrow he feels surely reflected in his eyes. And as the kid looks at him, he... he relaxes. He still looks upset, but he doesn’t look scared. That... that’s something...

 Right? 

 “No. Fuckin’ no. Y’ain’t deserved any a’ that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I’m gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a’ my goddamn life. And that’s a man’s promise.” 

 And he means it, fuck does he mean it. He had never meant anything more. He will spend the rest of his goddamn life ensuring that this wonderful kid knows how special and amazing he is, and that he never, ever deserves to be hurt. It’s his life’s fucking goal now, the one thing that fucking matters. He will take care of Taka for the rest of his goddamn life, even after the kid finally wises up and leaves his ass. He will watch from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him, there to keep him safe from all harm. This kid will never know pain again if it’s the last fucking thing Mondo does. He swears. 

 As the kid looks at him, he sees the softest and most beautiful smile he’s ever seen lighting up the boy’s face. His eyes sparkle with it, and he’s looking at Mondo like he’s important again. Like he... like he matters. And Mondo...

 He won’t ruin this shit. He just... he won’t. 

 This matters too goddamn much for him to let it slip away. 

 “T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you.” 

 Mondo smiles gently at the kid, moving forward to tentatively wrap an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently, needing to touch him but not wanting to overwhelm him, god. 

 “Ain’t gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an’ I don’t want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get goin’.” 

 Taka nods quick and puts his jacket on, buttoning it with practiced fingers. The kid turns back to the locker, frowning gently at whatever he sees inside. Mondo watches as the kid reaches out and grabs it, his breath hitching when he sees the kid is holding the glasses case that started this whole fucking mess. He... he honestly had forgotten about that shit, to tell the truth, with all the drama that just occurred. But as he looks at the kid, who is looking so softly at the glasses case, like they’re precious to him, he... he knows he owes the kid for the shit he put him through earlier, for no fucking reason. He can’t quite find it in him to regret what happened, not when it ended up like this, but he... he has to make it up to the kid. All of it. 

 So, quick as a wink, Mondo darts his hand out and carefully takes the case from Taka, ignoring the startled sound the kid makes. He can feel the kid watching him with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he opens the case and— without a single moment’s pause— puts the glasses on his face, blinking at the foreign feel. It... it hasn’t changed his vision much, since this shit is only supposed to help with close up shit, but it... huh. He guesses it ain’t so bad... 

 “Huh... I guess they ain’t that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?”

 He hadn’t really meant to ask the question, but he just... couldn’t help but remember the shit he’d done the last time he’d worn the glasses and Taka had told him what he thought. He... maybe he wants to show that it’s different, now. That he won’t get angry, not this time. To prove that he will never hurt Taka, never again. Not... not ever again. 

 He watches as the kid flushes bright red, mouth open slightly again, and- and god, is it an attractive look on him... s-shit... and then the kid is smiling shakily, giving a shaky thumbs up, and that’s even... even worse... or better, heh... 

 “You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!” 

 A-amazing, huh? Shit... no one’s ever said he looks amazing before... he’s had a couple of people call him hot, or even sexy once or twice, but never... never amazing...

 He adores it... adores... Taka... 

 It makes him smile again. Soft. Happy. So goddamn happy... he will never be able to repay Taka for the happiness he gives him... not even if he dedicates the rest of his life to trying. Which he will. He... he will...

 But it’s late. So fucking late. They... they need to get to bed...

 Even if Mondo never wants to part from this amazing kid...

 “Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c’mon! Bed! Ain’t gonna be the reason ya can’t focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!”

 With that, Mondo turns to grab his duster off the bench he’d tossed it on earlier, shrugging it on carefully, before finally exiting the bathhouse, Taka on his heels. 

 Shit...

[eriversenpcs]

[17:26, Tastemaker Trainees Dorm]

- Starring: Baek Vitaliy, Min Ho-seok, Youn Woo-cheol, Kim "Hakim" Kyeongha, Manager Lee Jun-hyung - Synopsis: A trainee receives a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. - Year: 2021 - Length: 793 wds.

Today's the day, Vitaliy thought as he sipped on a lukewarm mug of green tea. He could hear his training mates in the living room arguing about something frivolous while he sat in the kitchen trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. I just hope this wasn't for nothing...

Finally, the group cellphone, which had been entrusted to him, started going off. His heart skipped a beat upon checking the caller ID and seeing it was indeed their manager. It's go time. High on a brief hit of euphoria, Vitaliy ran into the living room with a little more speed than necessary.

At last, an opportunity had come for him and his friends. A chance to get the hell out of the Tastemaker Dungeon and into the public eye in the form of a survival show. Four of them had auditioned and showed their...diverse talents. He worked so hard to get everyone ready and all he could do now is hope that in the end it was all worth it.

"Alright, guys," he said, climbing over Hoseok to take a seat on the sofa between him and Hakim, "Everyone ready?"

"Yep," Hakim said with the same amount of enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," Hoseok nodded cheerfully. Vitaliy shot a look at Woocheol, who was huddled on an adjacent living chair. He looked up from his phone to give a wink and thumbs up.

"Let's pray," Hakim remarked. Hoseok loudly clasped his hands together and bowed his head. "Not literally, weirdo," Hakim snickered as he smacked his hyung's arm.

Vitaliy took a deep breath and accepted the call.

"Manager-nim," Vitaliy called out as he put the call on speakerphone and laid it on the coffee table in front of them. "Taliy-ah," Junhyung replied, "Sorry I couldn't be there in person. Is everyone there?"

"Yes," Vitality replied eagerly, almost cutting his sunbae off, "Do you have the results?" There was a bit of staticky silence, which worried Vitaliy. Finally he and the others could hear what Junhyung was saying: "Yes, but first there's some things to discuss." Vitaliy, Hoseok, and Hakim all leaned in. "First, I'm sorry to say that your possible debut date has been pushed back indefinitely."

The trainees had seen it coming, so they weren't too upset. Hakim sighed, "Well...did the CEO say why?" More static. "No," Junhyung finally replied flatly, "But I assume it has something to do with that new survival show the company's planning. I'm sorry, guys."

The call continued with the topics of training hours, curfews, diets, fitness requirements, and harsher punishments for violating rules in response to the Lovemonth incident. "Oh! I almost forgot," Junhyung interjected his own runaway train of thought, "About that other show."

The three eager trainees who had sunk in their seats after an eon-long lecture that could've been an email perked up once more. "It turns out that one of you did enough to impress the judges."

"So it was me," Hakim confidently proclaimed, "I think we all know that by now. I mean...not to toot my own horn or nothin', but I did a great job, so...beep beep motherfuckers!"

"It was not you, Hakim," Junhyung stated flatly. "Oh," Hakim replied in a flustered tone, "Well...I mean, that's probably for the best. 14-15 hours days? Always being on camera? And no phone? Sheeeeit, y'all woulda had the wrong one."

"It's okay to be disappointed," Hoseok said softly as he attempted to put an arm around Hakim, who swatted his hyung's hand away with a "boy, if you don't git--"

"Congratulations, _____," Junhyung said through static. The three looked at each other in confusion; "I think he said Hoseok," Vitaliy said hesitantly. They eventually rejoiced as Hoseok turned bright red. "Wow, I...didn't think they'd actually pick me," he said through a goofy smirk as the training mates on opposite sides of him showered him in congratulations and back pats.

"Wait," Junhyung interrupted, "No, not Hoseok. I said Woocheol."

The three looked at each other. "Sorry," Vitaliy inquired, begging Junhyung to repeat himself. "It's Woocheol," Junhyung clarified, "I repeat: Woocheol has been cast on X or Y?, not Hoseok. Congratulations, Woocheol."

Junhyung excused himself from the conversation and hung up as Vitaliy, Hoseok, and Hakim looked over at Woocheol. He was busy catching up on YouTube makeup tutorial videos, waiting for the call to end and for Hoseok to give him the abridged version of Junhyung's long-winded list of announcements as was their common routine. Woocheol sighed, "So...what bad news did he have for us this time?"

He looked up from his phone to see three very different shocked expressions on his training mates' faces: one of pleasant surprise, one of intense jealousy, and one of sheer, unbridled anxiety. "What?"

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Klaus x Powered Reader

Summary: Reader is part of the umbrella academy but came when they were 12 due to parents needing help for them, ya know controlling powers and whatnot. They can shapeshift into any animal and their senses are heightened n such.

Warnings: bloody, fighting bad guys, bit of Klaus fluff

You know that moment in a movie where they freeze frame and then the character says something like “you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”

Yeah with Klaus you have those moments more times then you could count. In fact, if you had a dollar for every time Klaus has gotten you into a freeze frame moment. (And you’ve thought about this often.)

You could probably afford a real nice apartment with actual food in its fridge. Instead of living at the Academy with some apples and Klaus’ latest alcoholic beverage.

But alas, here you are in a back alley as Klaus’ bodyguard waiting for some Italian mafia members to come get their money that he owes them. Well that’s what you’re assuming but Klaus insists they’re just some moody tough guys. Okay sure.

You watch Klaus as he paces back and forth in front of you counting his cash for about the 50th time in the past 10 minutes.

Klaus stops abruptly and turns to you with a smile, “You know what I love about you, Y/N, every time I think things could get worse I look at your pretty face and I know you got me.”

Sighing in knowing annoyance you look up at him, “Are you short.”

Klaus snorts, “No actually I’m pretty long.” He says with wink.

You look up to the sky trying not to crack, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction even if it was funny, not the time or place. Especially considering his dumbass is short some cash he definitely owes very soon.

You look over to Klaus again and raise an eyebrow.

“Alright how much?”

He twiddles is fingers while avoiding your curious gaze. “Oh you know...a couple hundred or so.”

“So that’s why I’m here, emotional support my ass”, You say rolling your eyes a bit amused nonetheless.

Klaus may be an idiot but he’s funny and kind and you love him. Also you do enjoy beating up gangsters or whoever these thugs of the hour are.

Folding your arms while giving Klaus a smirk you tell him, “Well your friends better get their asses here cause when they do. I’m gonna knock their teeth in for making us wait in this shit ally. I’ve been suppressing the urge to vomit for 10 minutes.”

He nods in agreement, glad you’re not about to rip him a new one for his latest antics.

“Wait, does it really smell that bad, I mean the dumpster is at the other end of the ally.” He says in confusion.

You put your hands on your hips glancing at the dumpster and then focusing on Klaus.

“I’ve got the whole animal kingdom inside me Klaus, I know you can kinda smell that dumpster from here, but listen. For me it’s 1000x worse and let me tell you it doesn’t smell like a bath and body works around here.”

Klaus laughs scratching the back of his head, “Right, right, sorry.”

Suddenly a sketchy looking black car rolls into the ally, coming to a halt as three angry looking men walk out. Clearly hiding something within their coats, the “leader” it seems steps up and speaks.

“You betta have that 1,000 you owe us right fucking now you little theif, I don’t appreciate you takin’ my mother’s gold necklace, rest her soul.” He growls.

Klaus raises his hands up, “Listen buddy, you stole that from your own mother at her funeral...and let me tell you she’s not to happy about it.” He says looking to his left where you assume this guys dead mother is standing.

The bald guy behind him shakes his head and says, “So fuckin what? We needed that shit for other important purposes raccoon eyes.”

Klaus now lost as to where this situation is about to turn looks over at you clearly needing assistance. While mouthing “help me”.

Walking past him you hold your hands up showing you have nothing to hide, “Now that’s not very nice, a real shit personality, your mother would be very disappointed in how you’ve turned out. Cause let’s be honest it’s not like your looks are doing anything for you either.” You say snickering trying to see how they’ll react.

The first guy smirks reaching into his coat to pull out a nasty looking knife. “See this right here, I’m a good old fashioned man, I don’t believe in guns.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Oh well in that case we should all be quite relieved then.”

Looking behind him you notice as his two friends pull their own weapons out, which consists of a hammer and some type of meat hook.

“Klaus couldn’t have picked an easier bunch of idiots to fuck up then these psychos.” You thought.

The bald one begins to move brushing past the first guy looking like he’s seeing red.

“Jesus, man I didn’t mean to offend, I’m just making friendly conversation.” You muse.

Baldy begins to charge holding up his hammer ready to strike. “Come here you bitch, that’s my husband you’re talking to.”

He swings as you side step him, tripping him as he falls directly onto the concrete. Conveniently dropping the hammer in the process. Klaus being the ever troublesomely fantastic sidekick, picks up the hammer and throws it at you.

Gripping the hammer tightly, baldy rises from the ground faster then you’d expected mouth bloody and boiling with rage.

But in a hot second his bearded buddy in crime sprints towards you with his meat hook seemingly out of nowhere.

Klaus yells for you to watch out but you didn’t even need to look, this guys heart beat is louder then a firework and you’re faster then a viper, your senses on overload. As you turn around in record time to grab the guys right arm with the meat hook.

With your left hand tight around this guys beefy one you hold on and push his assault giving him more power. Effectively fulfilling your plan and leading the hook right into baldys chest. Who was fortunately running towards you.

A split second later with the hammer in your right hand you swing it forcefully into the guys shins. Hearing a sweet sickly crunch sound and the wild howls protruding from your assailants throat.

“Sorry I didn’t know you were married.”

“Fuck you!” He screams.

You look up hearing the sting of metal being swung in the wind, to see a knife heading straight for your throat.

With lighting reflexes you grab his wrist, the knife inches from your vulnerable skin.

Klaus gasps in the background terrified and relieved at not getting your throat slit.

You turn your fingernails to sharp cat-like claws that dig dangerously into his flesh, causing hot blood to drip out. The man drops the knife and grimaces in pain.

“I don’t know about you but I don’t think my boyfriend owes you three motherfuckers shit.” You growl, eyes beginning to glow an electric blue while the whites of your eyes shift to black, something that happens when you start to use your power.

“Fuck you, and fuck that thieving piece of junky shit crying in the corner.”

Your mood darkens, “Wrong answer.”

Letting go of his bloody wrist you grip his throat with your left hand lifting him off the ground. He begins to choke and struggles against your tight grasp.

“I know you’ve heard of me from other friends of yours, so listen very closely. If you touch Klaus again or anyone else around here who’s just trying to survive in this city. I won’t be so generous next time. Or maybe I should rip your fucking face off right now.” You squeeze tighter drawing blood.

“Y/N.”  Klaus says softly.

“Let’s go home.” He asks with pleading eyes and you snap back to reality smelling the iron scent of blood on your hands.

Sometimes you can get carried away feeling the rush of the hunt, a taxing side affect of your power, one you’ve always struggled to control.

Letting the man go he slumps to the ground coughing and sucking in straggled breaths.

“ Alright, me..me and the boys...won’t do nothing....you have my...my word....no bullshit nothing....I swear.”

“Good cause your friends are gonna need more then some stitches.”

You quickly leave the ally and start walking down the street towards the Academy.

Breathing heavily, you look up at Klaus who’s at your side as you start to feel a bit embarrassed that he saw you lose it a little.

He holds onto your arms stopping you, “Don’t worry, we’ll have a bath and watch some movies...hey you like that Museum one?”

“The Night at the Museum.” You say smiling still feeling off.

Klaus’ face lights up, “Yeah that one, with the big T-Rex skeleton and President Roosevelt on a horse.”

He links your arms together and you both begin walking again.

“Y/N, I’m not afraid of you, you know. I never have been, I actually find it pretty sexy of you to beat up bad guys for me and keep the neighborhood safe-er. Ben thinks so too, minus the sexy part of course. Only I get to enjoy that.”

You relax more into his side and once again start to feel a bit more at ease with yourself.

“Oh wait a second, here put these sunglasses on, your eyes are still playing mood rings with us. Don’t wanna freak out the civilians” He laughs.

“Thanks, I did wonder why that kid back there looked like he just saw a ghost.”

Klaus winks, “Maybe he did, cough cough..Ben...cough cough.”

“You’re an ass.” You say while rolling your eyes

“Yes indeed my love but remember I deal with the supernatural of all sorts, from ghosts to monsters, nothing phases me.” Klaus states proudly.

You laugh, “ Okay Van Helsing, this monster wants a bath with her hunter then.”

Klaus kisses your cheek, “That can be arranged my dear.”

Smiling up at him you hold him tighter and think to yourself how weird your life is, but you wouldn’t change it for anything.

- okay wow alright, first story ever I hope it’s good or at least some people like it. It was honestly fun to write ngl.

[al-pomegranate-seeds]

The hands they held

“Roman looked at the flower shop that set itself across the street from his tattoo parlor. How weird. He was almost sure the building had looked as boring as the other empty buildings in the street when he closed the shop the night before.The front of the small building was not as covered with vines and flowers that surely didn’t grow together as it was now, of that he was certain.“

Pairings: Logince, DLAMP in later installments

Urban fantasy

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Genderfluid Logan Sanders, Flower Shop and Tattoo Parlor au(but make it magical(not the first one to do that but I feel proud))

Warnings: Food mention(it’s Roman listing out some food and then they mentioning it after some times)

Characters: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Dot(Cartoon Therapy)

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705440

Roman looked at the flower shop that set itself across the street from his tattoo parlor. How weird. He was almost sure the building had looked as boring as the other empty buildings in the street when he closed the shop the night before. The front of the small building was not as covered with vines and flowers that surely didn’t grow together as it was now, of that he was certain. The visuals were right up his alley, though, just the right amount of dramatics one needed in their life to make it interesting. A big sign sat on top the glass doors, displaying the name “Berry’s Flowers and Herbs”.

And then, as he was lost in thought admiring and trying to see if he recognized any of the flowers, a man almost as tall as Roman himself, with deep brown hair and brown skin, wearing a simple black polo with jeans and a gardening apron, opened the door and put up a sign saying “OPEN” in dark blue letters, before turning around and inspecting the streets, and then looking directly in Roman’s direction and – holy shit.

Roman was in love.

Before we continue telling the story, let’s lay down some facts about our current favorite boy. First, Roman and Remus’ mother was an elf. Second, elves, besides a long lifespan and a somewhat inflated ego, have better working eyes than most humans. Which is how, even a street away, Roman could notice the beautiful sharp angles of the man’s face, the gorgeous silver shade of his eyes behind his square glasses, and the adorable glittering freckles that covered his face, his neck and his arms.

Roman kept gawking at the glittering man like a fish as he went back inside the shop and closed the glass doors.

“Ooooh, sweet, that’s closer than where I buy.” Remus’s voice sounded suddenly, startling Roman out of his daydreaming.

“Oh, cool.” Roman said automatically, before turning to Remus, who was cleaning his hands with a rag. Roman decided to simply not ask how he had gotten them dirty. “Hey, Rem.”

Remus imeddiately squinted. “What the fuck do you want?”

“What? Can’t a man just call his bro by a nickname to show his brotherly love?”

“You do that by calling me Trash Man, you only call me Rem when you want something, what the fuck is it?”

“Oh I wasn’t going to ask for anything, I was just going to ask if, I dunno, you maybe needed some more ingredients, maybe the ones you have are running out or something, I could maybe go pick it up for you...” Roman trailed off.

Remus just kept squinting at Roman for another 20 seconds, before flicking his eyes to some point behind him. Roman turned, only to see the man from before pushing a table on wheels with flower vases to the front of one of the big glass windows, before going back inside.

Roman could tell he was staring as the man went back inside, and when he looked back at Remus, that shithead smile was glued to his face like a dry face mask.

“Oooh, you got a cruuuuuush?” Remus said in a sing-songy voice, and Roman didn’t even have the energy to pretend to be mad, so he just kept staring at his brother’s face. “You know, now that you mention it, I think I’ve used up all of my marigolds, and I’m close to running out of rosemary...”

Roman immediately perked up. “So maybe, your very selfless and very helpful brother could pick some up for you?”

“Ah, yes, my brother who has no ulterior motives besides being helpful, of course.” Remus said, grabbing one of the sketch books before ripping out a page and writing something down. “Ok, there’s more than just what I said, I need some alyssum and some chrysantemus and some dandelions...”

“Ok, noted.” Roman said, grabbing the paper and scanning the list without actually reading it. He already remebered only the dandelion out of the flowers Remus had mentioned.

As Roman was heading out by the door, Remus screamed “Use protection!”

“I’ll murder you!” Roman screamed back cheerily.

He wasn’t prepared to enter the shop.

As soon as he step foot past the door, he realized the air felt different. It wasn’t exactly pleasant or unpleasant, but it was distinctly different than the air around human populated cities. Roman was almost sure he could hear little bells, and it felt like the air was caressing his skin. The walls were covered in shelves with different plants displays, the floor was a magenta and indigo checkered tile with golden edges that somehow managed to not be obnoxious, and the ceiling was entirely glass with golden metal swirls. The space was well lit, all of the flowers in perfect display.

“Salutations.” Sounded a voice, and Roman immediately looked back to the counter that sat at the back of the store, behind which he could see the glittering man and wow, he was even more beautiful up close.

“Hello there!” Roman said, managing to hide the fact that he felt distinctively out of breath at the sight that laid before him, which he wasn’t completely sure wasn’t a hallucination.

The man’s glittering silver freckles were even more visible from this close, and Roman could also see some that were smaller, less glittery but just as breathtaking, and he also noticed that the man’s hair also glittered slightly.

“...Can I help you?”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, yes, my brother sent me to buy some flowers, and-“ he started before realizing he didn’t actually know what to say after. “...and here is the list. With the flowers.”

He dramatically handed the list over to the man, who simply grabbed it and started Reading. A couple seconds passed before he raised an eyebrow.

“A...Kiss?”

“Whut. Wait.” Roman hastily grabbed the paper and quickly scanned the list, eventually finding the “kiss” item with a heart dotting the i. “Oh, that motherfucker knew I wasn’t going to read it, I swear this is just a prank – “

“Not to worry. Let’s simply ignore this and I’ll grab the flowers.” The man said, and set to do just that, quickly scanning the shelves and putting the flowers in clear plastic rolls.

Roman managed to stay silent for about five seconds.

“So, I don’t remember seeing the shop here yesterday.”

The man seemed to be startled for a bit, before answering “You wouldn’t have, we moved in during the night.”

“Hmm.” Roman hummed before looking for something else to say. “We?”

“...Yes. Me and my parents. My mother and I run the shop.”

“Oh, marvelous, so it’s a Family business! You know, me and my brother run the tattoo parlor across the street, we do tattoos with various magical properties. You should come visit, my name is Roman, I use he/him pronouns, and my brother is Remus, he/him pronouns too.”

“...Logan. He/him today.” He – Logan – said, turning to the dandelions. “Are you always such a conversationalist when buying flowers?”

That made Roman pause.

“Oh, um, I hadn’t – Am I making your uncomfortable?”

“Not to worry, I am simply not used to such...Friendly customers. But this is pleasant.”

Roman sighed relieved.

“I am not opposed to visiting your parlor, if you’ll have me.”

He simply smiled.

“Well hello there!” Roman said, opening the glass doors and spotting Logan behind the counter, like last time.

“Salutations, Roman. They/them today.” Roman nodded, leaning on the counter.

“So, how’s the day going for you, Specs?”

Logan went a few moments without answering, probably because of the nickname. “Pleasant enough. A few customers have come by. None of them was unpleasant.”

“That’s indeed pleasant.” Roman turned around, leaning on the counter with his hips now, looking around at the shop, and noticing the flowers on his left looked more perfect than a lot of flowers he had seen in his life. “Hey, Logan, did you do something to those flowers over there?”

Logan seemed to perk up a bit. They fixed their glasses before answering. “Indeed. Those are flowers I separate for decorations, I enchant them to stay alive for longer. This enchantment can mess with cooking and potions, however, so I always ask before picking them.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I hadn’t thought of that.” They stayed silent then, Roman zoning out as he looked at the flowers and spun his necklace on his finger. “Hey Specs, how old are you?”

“I – Well.” Logan started, before pausing and thinking more. “I’m forty years old, technically, but I’m a fairy, so I haven’t grown beyond being what humans would consider twenty five to twenty nine.”

“Oh, you’re a fairy?”

“Well, quarter fairy. My father is half fairy, my mother is human. They had me when mother was twenty  seven years old, and I grew up in the same speed as a human until I was around twenty four years.”

“Marvelous. I’m half elf. I’m thirty  four years old, and yeah, basically around that age. I would still be a teenager if both of my parents were elves.”

They stayed in silence for a few minutes.

“Roman, do you...Do you like outer space?”

“Well, yeah.” Roman said, before turning back to Logan. “I don’t know a lot, but I think it’s fascinating.”

“Would you...” They swallowed, then, sounding nervous. “Would you like to hear about it?”

“Of course. Tell me everything you know.”

Logan smiled, then, with barely restrained excitement, and Roman felt like he could listen to them for hours if they would always smile like that.

“Hello there, my favorite nerd!” Roman said, entering the shop with his his arms spread and holding a paper bag.

“Salutations, Roman. She/her today. Do you bring anything besides your dramatic entrance?” Logan said, with a small smile that never failed to make Roman lose his train of thought for a few seconds.

“I sure do, Smarty McSpecson, I bring sustenance!” He laid the paper bag on the counter. “It’s a bowl of goose stew with mushrooms, fruit salad with honey, aaaaaaaand pork filled buns.”

“Sounds delicious. I’ll have the buns.”

“Marvelous! I’ll eat some of the stew. I’ve got homemade mayonnaise too, if you’d like to add it.” Then he went to open the bag.

“Wait. Mother will take over the shop for this afternoon, so I’m free in ten minutes. There is a small kitchen in the back, and I think it would be pleasant to eat on a table instead of this counter.”

“Oh, that would be cool.” Roman said, trying to play it cool. It almost felt like she was inviting him on a date, but surely that wouldn’t be it? Logan was just nice like that. She was also very direct and probably would be forward in asking for a date. Yeah.

“Come on, it’s behind this door over here.” Roman then followed Logan into the aforementioned door, finding a small kitchen that seemed to be decorated with a light yellow color scheme. All the counters and cabinets were light yellow, the counters having white tops, the fridge and the stove were both black, and the floor tile was white. The kitchen was pretty small, only wide enough to fit a small round table and two chairs, and there was a floor to ceiling rectangular glass window behind one of the chairs.

“You can sit down while I get mother, I’m sure she won’t be incovenienced to come down ten minutes early.” Logan said while getting some plates and bowls from the cabinets, then laying them on the table.

“Ok. I’ll be here waiting.” Roman said, sitting on the chair facing the window. He may or may not have been thinking about how gorgeous Logan would look framed by the window and the plants outside.

Logan stepped into a door that led to a white staircase, leaving Roman to think and analyze the small kitchen.

Now that he had the opportunity to pay attention, he could notice little things he hadn’t noticed when he first entered the kitchen : the white countertops were stained at some spots with some sort of colorful pigment, there was a black paper on which someone drew constellations with white crayon, and there was a clear glass cookie jar filled with dried flowers on one counter.

About five minutes later, Logan came back with who Roman assumed was her mother, a chubby, dark skinned lady with short black hair wearing a beige argyle sweater over a white button up and beige skirt, plus a pair of red glasses and bright red lipstick. He noticed Logan seemed distinctly more glittery around the face.

“Oh hello there dear, you must be the famed Roman!” The lady said, rushing over to him and grabbing his hands. “I’m Dot, this one’s mom, I’ve heard so many things about you – “

“Mother...” Logan said with a warning tone, her voice not managing to hide her embarassment.

“Oh Logan talked about you so much, you’re every bit as handsome as she described – “

“Mother!” Logan exclaimed, and now her face was shining so much it looked like it was encrusted with tiny gems. Roman was almost hipnotized enough to not realize that was probably her way of blushing.

“What? It’s true! He’s as handsome as sherpherd pie!” Dot responded, and Roman was as confused as he was flattered.

“Mother, that’s not – forty seven years of marriage, and that’s what you pick up of father’s vocabulary?” Logan said, bafflement not being able to hid the awfully fond tone of her voice.

“Oh don’t pick on me, you know I’m telling the truth.” Dot said, before looking at the shop. “Oh dear, I better get started on that shop running thing.” She said, before kissing Roman and Logan’s cheeks and stepping out into the shop, closing the kitchen door.

They stayed silent froma few moments before Logan sighed.

“I love my mother, but she can be a bit overwhelming. I hope she didn’t bother you too much.”

“Oh, she didn’t bother me at all. So, um, as handsome as shepherd pie?” Roman asked, still a bit baffled by the term.

“It’s an expression father uses. It’s an equivalent translation coming from the faery language my father’s specific nation spoke. It’s a bit outdated, but it was used most often to describe someone the person was attracted to. Of course,” Logan said all of this while grabbing the cuttlery and sitting down on the other chair. She paused while adjusting herself on the chair, before continuing with a fondly amused smile. “she wasn’t hitting on you, don’t worry.” Logan went to grab the pork buns, while murmuring to herself low enough that, if Roman wasn’t part elf, he surely wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “Not for herself, at least.”

“Not for herself?” Roman asked. Logan’s eyes went wide as saucers, and she almost dropped the bun she was holding.

“Oh you – you heard that?” Logan asked, adjusting her glasses (which Roman had noticed was a bit of a tic of hers). Her face, that had gone back to the normal amount of glittering, suddenly was shiny enough that Roman wanted to grab her face and kiss her senseless.

“If it’s any comfort, I only heard because elven hearing is a stronger than humans’. But seriously, what did you mean?”

“Oh, it’s nothing important, it’s silly, it’s just – mother is certain you have been flirting with me, you see, and no matter how much I tell her she’s being foolish, she won’t quit putting these thoughts into my head, and I swear it wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t even felt like these before but then she mentioned it and I couldn’t stop thinking about how handsome you are and how nice you are and how you made an effort to befriend me when we had just moved in and I didn’t know anyone and I didn’t have any energy to go out and make friends – “ she was rambling now, her speech getting more fast paced and anxious the longer Roman went without saying anything.

Well. She seemed to think Roman wasn’t interested. He had to do something about that.

Logan was gesturing wildly with her hands, moving them up and down in an effort to calm herself, so Roman grabbed one of them in an effort to effectively distract her.

“So,” he said, laying their hands down palms up on the table and drawing tiny circles on the wrist. “I most definitely was flirting. I most definitely think you are very handsome and very nice. And I most definitely think you are as handsome as shepherd pie.”

Logan was silent for a few moments before saying, with a slight breathless note on her voice, “...oh.”

“Yeah.” Roman said, before bringing Logan’s hand up his mouth and kissing the palm.

Logan giggled. She honest to ghosts, real as magic, giggled.

“So,” Roman said, putting their hands back on the table. “do you want to try this?”

“I – most definitely.” She answered, nodding quickly with a smile on her face.

They started eating, then, and nothing changed but the hands they held and the soft smiles.

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors 

[lorei-writes]

Radio Call: The Original

Mitsuhide x MC Angst Post-Apocalypse AU

There are some innocent things that do divide humans - pineapple on pizza, the existence of spiders, this spice that tastes like soap if you got unlucky on genetic lottery... Fluff and Angst don’t seem to fall into this category, even though some have strong preferences regarding those.

“Unfortunately”, my dear friend R does have a strong preference for angst, and it’s her birthday, so I pulled out everything I had on hand >:3 Happy birthday, you angst-loving creature! I hope it hurts in just the right way! It is not a game, like the last year... But I do presume it completes the trilogy, so it’s angst to the power of 3.

Warnings: major character death (implied), death of the lover, deadly illness, swearing, needles, reoccurring nightmares (mention), swearing, food

The city was quiet, not even rats coming onto the empty streets. Planks covering most of the displays, it appeared nobody remained in place, old signs littering the pavement every now and again – not that it mattered, no cars driving through the lanes just regardless. A helicopter flew somewhere high above him, most likely nearing the old town square: evacuation, probably one of the last transports. Tomorrow, tomorrow he… He wouldn’t be there anymore. Clenching his fists, Mitsuhide slowed down in his steps. Did he really want to go? He couldn’t tell.

Mitsuhide watched, for seeing was all he was capable of. His hand pressed against the glass pane,  he didn’t dare avert his eyes from the room, his gaze falling onto the figure resting over the bed. He wished it was sleep, that it was peaceful – yet it wasn’t, her skin having turned the shade of light plum purple. Her chest heaved weakly with each breath, her fingers twitching as she struggled to grasp onto the sheets, as if clinging to dear life with what energy she had left…

Mitsuhide watched, for seeing was all he could do for her at the moment,  the monotonous beeping of the machine being more jarring than lulling or otherwise soothing. Perhaps he allowed himself to wonder: why of all people her? Why then? Why did they survive for so long, if it was all meant to end like so? His nails scratched against the glass, new questions flooding his mind at a much too great pace. Was there any reason to begin with? Was a reason even necessary? It didn’t seem to be, at least not if it was her of all people.

Mitsuhide watched, for he couldn’t hear, the commotion behind his back turning to mere whispers. He just stood there in place, a single unmovable object by the side of raging river of people, few remaining staff members evacuating alongside patients who still had a chance. Tough decisions, he thought – and among the lucky ones, there wasn’t her. His lips pressed into a thin line.  

It quieted down eventually, silence consuming all sound. A pull on his sleeve – and for a moment, for a mere moment he looked away, almost immediately cursing himself. A nurse stared at him sympathetically, their lips curling into a half-hearted smile. “It’s late, mister Akechi. Go home.” “It’s the last day. What will happen tomorrow?” “The power will be cut off. So…” “You’re going to give her the shot?” Mitsuhide asked, his gaze wandering back into the room. A moment of pause. “Yes,” the nurse replied finally. “It’s better than letting them die slowly.” Mitsuhide winced internally. ‘Die’, he grew to hate the word. “I see,” he almost hesitated. “Could I hold her hand?” “I’m afraid it’s not possible. The room is contaminated.” No reply came to his mind. Silence was his acceptance.

Mitsuhide stayed to watch, for it was all he could do for himself.

***

Live, live, live, live – Mitsuhide had enough of the nightmares, enough of her face and of everything, of everything lost reminding him of itself. There was no place of escape, each desolate corner and greyed street having seemingly been marked by her presence, his heart skipping a beat at each return, still hoping to see her welcome him. It had to be a mirage, a lie, a… A dream he got tired of dreaming, day by day hoping he’d wake up from it and get to speak with her again.

Mitsuhide opened his eyes to the white ceiling, morning light falling inside through the window. He turned onto his side and groaned, sleeping on the couch having proven to be rather harsh on his poor back. Slowly, he pushed himself up and opened the cabinets, his hand reaching for a can of red beans almost on instinct. Absent-mindedly, he opened it, and without as much as draining it or putting its contents into a bowl, he began to eat. Having finished his meal, he took his coat, the door soon closing behind him.

The city was quiet, not even rats coming onto the empty streets. Planks covering most of the displays, it appeared nobody remained in place, old signs littering the pavement every now and again – not that it mattered, no cars driving through the lanes just regardless. A helicopter flew somewhere high above him, most likely nearing the old town square: evacuation, probably one of the last transports. Tomorrow, tomorrow he… He wouldn’t be there anymore. Clenching his fists, Mitsuhide slowed down in his steps. Did he really want to go? He couldn’t tell.

Commotion rose above the square. They’ve been waiting for hours, for far longer than it took for any other transport to arrive – and yet, nobody came. “They left us!” “Motherfucking…!” “Mommy, I’m scared.” “My sister was in the last one!” “My son!” “They couldn’t have...Could they?” Mitsuhide sighed. Perhaps indeed, he was meant to stay. Slowly, he got up, odd sort of acceptance washing over him. “Where are you going?! They may still come!” somebody called after him. Without thinking much, Mitsuhide turned around. “They will not. Who did they leave? Elderly and few adults, children. It’s the time of tough choices, they may say – and sacrificing us seems to be one of them. I do not know about your intentions, but I do not plan to die just yet. City will provide only for so long.” “Oh, look at ya, a fucking smartass!” another person chimed in. “Indeed. Whoever wants to live, should collect what resources they have. We should set off before the collapse.”

Mitsuhide walked away.

***

Mitsuhide pressed the recording button, cough ripping through his lungs. “I hope this tape made it to you safely, Nobunaga. We shall meet again when the last wave is over,” he forced out of himself.

The day was warm as he stepped out of his tent, wind seemingly trying to embrace him, or to at least make it more bearable, each step being more draining than the previous one. Slowly, he dragged himself to the very edge of their settlement, empty streets reminding him of something he had seen before – as did the choked down cries, somehow identical to the shriek of his nails against the glass. All things end, he convinced himself. All had to end.

The border came into his field of vision, few people standing there, backpacks waiting by their legs. “Please, do leave this in the point I’ve told you about,” Mitsuhide asked.

It was a warm day as he retreated into his tent. As for the night… The night, he couldn’t tell. All things end – and some do so fast.

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @mineko811 , @briars7 If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.  If you don’t want to be tagged anymore - please, do not feel bad about it, just say so :)

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #840: Buck Cluck is the Worst (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

8:45 p.m. at the Smash Mansion's Living Room.......

TV Screen: (The Credits of the Chicken Little Movie starts rolling)

Hades: Well, that was a hour and a half wasted.

Sephiroth: ('Sigh') Agreed. This....just might be the worst movie I've ever seen so far. (Turns to Pichu) What do you think, son?

Pichu: (Starts Yawning While Stretching and Rubbing his Eyes) Pika Pi......

Sephiroth: (Chuckles Lightly) Yes. You're right. This was a snore fest indeed.

Ganondorf: Couldn't say it any better myself really.... It was train wreck....(Turns to Bowser) What do you think, Bow....ser?

Bowser: (Already Enraged) ........

Ganondorf: I.....take it you're not fond of this movie either, aren't you?

Bowser: No. I'm not fond with it one bit.....And it's all because of that BITCH MOTHERFUCKER NAMED BUCK!!!

Hades: Seriously? THAT'S your only problem you have with the movie? What about all the times the town's folks kept bullying that Chicken Little kid to oblivion till he managed to save them all from an alien invasion?

Ganondorf: Or the fact that most of them are just terrible to begin with?

Sephiroth: Or the fact the entirety of movie's soundtrack was subpar at be-

Bowser: Yeah yeah. I know. Everything else from the movie sucks. But Buck.....He's the motherfucking worse....

Hades: What? You're not gonna make a pun out if his name or something?

Bowser: ('Tch') Please. That bastard doesn't deserve my sense of humor.....

Ganondorf: ('Sigh') Alright. Just calm down for a second, Bowser. Tell us why exactly do you hate Buck that much?

Bowser: The answer's obvious: He's a shit father! That guy did nothing but let the whole town mess with own son and didn't even have the courage to stand up for him! Only worried about what they think than being an actual parent!

Sephiroth: Hm....Now that you mentioned it....I do find his cowardice behavior to be rather frustrating at times.

Pichu: (Nodded in Agreement) Pika Pi.

Bowser: Right!? And the only time he shows his kid actual love and care is when we won some stupid baseball game. And even THAT was short-lived once something was actually going on with town afterwards and he went back to treating him like crap!

Ganondorf: But wait. Didn't he helped Chicken Little in the later half of the movie?

Bowser: He did. But it doesn't feel like he genuinely wants to help or support him to me, he probably did all of that just so he can make himself feel better after the kid finally stood up to him. Hell, I wouldn't even be surprised if he goes back to asshole after this.

Hades: Well, the movie isn't getting a sequel anytime soon. So..... that's a plus.

Bowser: ('Sigh') Yeah. I'm happy for that.....Still hate the guy though.

Kazuya: (Shrugs) He could've been worse. He could've just throw his son off a mountain.....or volcano.....or just tied him up in a rocket ship and send him to space.....or send him to space himself by tying him up, kick to the atmosphere, and let him fall down to Earth in a meteorite fashion.

Bowser: (Eyes and Mouth Widened in Shocked, Frightened like Fashion) Y-Y-You're old man d-didn't really do all of that, did he?

Kazuya: Other than throwing me off a mountain and volcano, I can't say that he have. But he told me he was daydreaming about sending me to space to die. So there's that.

Hades: (Turns to Kazuya) Has anyone ever told you that your family is fucked up?

Kazuya: (Shrugs) Multiple times. Never bothered me in the slightest.

Ganondorf: (Rolls his Eyes) 'Course it doesn't. But anyways, I'm bored now. So......any ideas on what we should do next?

Hades: (Starts Smirking) The new club across the streets is about to start in a couple of minutes. Wanna go there?

Bowser: Hell yeah.

Ganondorf: (Shrugs) I'm down.

Kazuya: Fine with me.

Sephiroth: As long as my son gets to go, then I suppose I can tag along.

Pichu: (Happily Cheers) Pi Chu!~

Bowser: You know, I've been wondering this for while now, but have any of you seen where Ridley and Dark Samus are gone to?

Ganondorf: They went to a restaurant together.

Bowser: Together? (Eyes Widened Once He Realized What's Ganondorf is Talking About) Wait. So they're actually a THING now!?

Hades: Seems like it. Guess the vacation got 'em closer than ever.

Bowser: Probably. I mean.....Good for them, I guess? I'm just progressing this.....

Ganondorf: ('Sigh') Well, let's just hope that their relationship would last them for as long as they need to.

Hades: We're still gonna kick Ridley's ass to a plup if he tries hurting her, right?

Ganondorf: Oh absolutely.

Meanwhile at the Crimsonetté Restaurant......

Ridley: And then I told Samus "Your suit's powerful, but my name's still Ridley, BITCH!"

Dark Samus: (Giggles Softly While Wearing a Dark Blue Dress)

Ridley: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprised) Holy shit. You actually thought that was funny?

Dark Samus: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm. I think you're funny. (Starts Blushing a Little) A-And handsome~

Ridley: Oh! Uhh...(Chuckles Lightly While Blushing Himself) Thanks. I think you're sex- BEAUTIFUL! I mean, beautiful! You're beautiful.....Just beautiful.

Dark Samus: (Giggles Once More) Thanks, Ridley.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@italian-love-cake

@illyrilex

[whereisstevethestove]

Ventricle.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Katrina Flores (OC), Nico Flores

Relationships: Familial Logan &Virgil, hinted at Logan x Nico

Additional Tags: abortion mention, bisexual disaster logan, teen parenting, hate sex mention, logan having an emotional breakdown in a walmart, nico being a smooth motherfucker.

Word Count: 1805

Summary: Logan made a dumb decision when he was eighteen, which led him to being saddled with a difficult choice when he was just nineteen. Now he's living everyday with the consequences.(in the accidental adoption universe, but can be read as a stand alone. no prior knowledge needed)

Notes: *me, looking at the lack of nico x logan*: Fine, I’ll do it myself.  Also, I have an actual angst logan x nico fic coming out later today maybe, probably.

AO3  

@psychedelicships  here’s some logan and nico... at the end, but I promise it’s worth it.

He was nineteen, young and dumb when it happened-

Logan stared down at the sleeping boy in his arms, a newborn that was only five hours old, with a shock of black hair that was reminiscent of Logan’s baby photos.  He was the only one awake, his ex also asleep from the sheer toll of birth on her body.

She had wanted to keep him, and then, now that Logan was holding the infant, she had admitted that she was going just… throw him into the foster system and hope that someone wanted him.  Logan hadn’t wanted to keep the child, he’d begged her to have an abortion, but he’d promised in the end to still pay child support if that’s what she wanted.

But now…

Now he was holding his son.  She didn’t want him, he looked too much like his dad, and Logan could feel his own heart tearing apart as he thought of giving him up.  

His ex stirred and Logan looked up as she opened her eyes, a look of displeasure on her face.

“You’re looking at it all weird.”

Logan smiled softly down at the infant.  “I know.  He’s beautiful.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not a teen mom.”

“You told me that you don’t want him.”

“And I don’t.”  She looked up at the ceiling of the hospital room and sighed.  “Where did we go wrong Lo?” Lo.

Ah yes, the nickname that she’d called him for so long, when they were first dating junior year in highschool.  Logan used to look back on his past with fond memories, but now everything was tainted the smallest bit darker with the realization that he had, in fact, cut his younger phase short.

“It was the drunk hate sex, I’m sure.”  He responded and she laughed.

“I can’t take him.  I want a life Logan.”

Logan nodded.  “I’m sorry.  But if I may?”

“May what?”

The infant yawned in his sleep and Logan’s heart broke again.  “I’d like to take him.  You won’t have to pay child support, we can go our separate ways and never talk again if you want, but goddamnit, I want to raise him.”

She shot him a rueful look.  “Take him.  After I’m discharged, I never want to see you again though.”

“Of course.”  Logan held back his happiness, but his face betrayed him and even she knew as she watched him hold the infant just a bit closer.

Maybe a part of her wondered how someone like Logan could have ever loved that deeply.

Maybe a part of her didn’t care.

…

Logan had a harder time the next morning convincing the nurse who was filling out the paperwork to put him down as the provider.  After all, the kid was supposed to go straight to adoption, and now the father wanted him.

Not to mention the whole naming thing.  She was less than impressed when Logan told her that he wanted the infant to be named Virgil.  

Logan won both battles and after a talk with Virgil’s doctor, he was heading out to his car with the infant safe in a carrier, which he buckled in before getting in the driver's seat and leaving.

…

He had no idea what he was doing.  Virgil was sitting in the shopping cart child spot, chattering happily in the gibberish that only babies spoke as Logan had an emotional breakdown in front of the baby food.

It’d been six months since Virgil had been born, and according to online and the various books he’d read, advice from his mother and also from his great aunt, the kid should be fine starting solids, but he didn’t know which.

Virgil babbled something and a tiny hand patted Logan’s hair.   He looked up and Virgil giggled before reaching for his glasses.  Logan leaned his head back a bit.

“Virgil, we’ve discussed that you cannot gnaw on my glasses.  You have a teething toy or a pacifier if you’d like.”

Virgil clapped.

There was a gasp behind him and Logan looked back to see a woman, who was grinning at the pair.

“Is that your son?”  She walked up to him and cooed at Virgil.  “How old is he?” “Six months.”  Logan said tiredly as Virgil clapped again and the woman smiled.

“He’s clapping so early.  Most don’t for a good while.”

Logan pumped a tired fist in the air.  “Wonderful.”

“I’m Katrina, I’ve got some little ones at home, it can be tiring.  How old are you? You look a little young to be this sweetie’s daddy.  What’s your name?”

Logan held out his hand for her to shake.  “Logan Alt, nineteen.”

“Oh!  Is your lucky bride at home?”

Logan bit his lip and looked down at the floor of the supermarket.  “Ah, no.”

Katrina seemed to freeze for a moment, but it was fleeting enough that Logan ignored it as she looked up at him.

“Six months you say?  He should be in prime time to start solids.”  When Logan nodded, she seemed to straighten up.  “Would you like some help with a list of foods that you can start him on?  I also have a wonderful book in my car I can grab you.”

Logan stared at her.  

Then he burst into tears and Katrina pulled him into a hug, rubbing a hand soothingly across his back.

“Hey darlin, I know how hard it can be, having a young one so early.”  

Logan nodded into her shoulder and she pulled him back to arms length, a soft smile on her face.  “You’re gonna be the best dad this kiddo ever has.  Let me help you get him some starter foods and then I’ll give ya my number and you can call me on my phone whenever.  We sure are damn lucky for these samsung flip phones, aren’t we?”

“Thank you…”  Logan stuttered out as he wiped at his eyes.  Katrina nodded and gave him another hug before turning to Virgil and patting his head. 

“Hey buddy.  I’m here to help your daddy, okay?”

Virgil babbled something and mirrored her smile.  Katrina gave him another gentle pat on the head.  “Thank you for letting me know that very important thing.”

Logan looked down at Virgil.  “What’d he say?” Katrina’s response was simple.  “That he loves you very much.  Onward to the bananas!” …

Katrina and her family were there when Virgil first waddled up to Logan, and said his first word.

“Space!”

Logan blinked as Virgil made grabby hands, but he complied and lifted his son up into his arms.

Katrina leaned over.  “Looks like you have a little science nerd.”

Virgil reached out and excitedly patted Katrina’s shoulder.  “Space!”  He crowed out and Logan couldn’t help but grin as his now one year old excitedly chirped the word again, squirming in Logan’s arms.

“Looks like you might be right.  Would you like down?”  Logan asked and Virgil nodded vigorously.

Logan set him down.  Virgil laughed and clapped again before looking up at his dad with glee.  

“Space!”

“That’s right.”  Logan nodded solemnly.  “Space.”

Virgil waddled off to where Katrina’s other kids were playing, and the group easily parted to include him.

“Kat.. thank you for inviting us to your Christmas celebration, you didn’t need to.”  Logan looked away from Virgil and she shrugged.

“Lo, with your mom’s passing in November, you told me that you didn’t have anywhere to go, of course I’d offer you my home.”  Katrina picked at a loose thread on her sweater.  “Virgil deserves a good first Christmas, and you need social interaction.”

Logan laughed softly.  “I guess you’re right.”

“I always am.”  Katrina crossed her arms.  “I need to go check on my husband, but I’ll see you around.  Try talking to my younger cousin.”

Logan looked around the room.  “Where are they?”

Katrina pointed to a man Logan’s age, who was sitting on the couch, surrounded by the stuffed animals that the other kids were bringing to him.  “Nico Flores.  He’s single.”

She winked and Logan rolled his eyes at her fondly before heading over to the couch.  Nico looked up from the kid who was speaking to him, a grin splitting his face.  “Hey!  I could use some company!”

The kid that he’d been talking to rapidly fired something at him in Spanish and Nico laughed before responding in kind as Logan carefully moved the stuffed animals and sat next to him.

Once the kid had gone back to the others, Nico held a hand out for Logan to shake.

“Nico Flores.”

“Logan Alt.”

“That your son?”  Nico pointed to Virgil, who was sitting on the ground as another one year old passed him blocks, which he promptly threw down with a laugh.

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“He’s the whitest child here.”  Nico ran a hand through his hair and grinned at Logan.  “You’re extraordinarily pale.”

“It’s the german from my father’s side.”  

“Ah.”  Nico laughed as a girl brought him another stuffed animal, taking one from the pile on the ground at his feet as she switched them out.

“Thank you Tio!”

“It’s just Nico, you know that Gemma!” 

Gemma gave a screeching laugh as she ran off.   

“So, how’d you meet my cousin?”

“I had a bit of a rough time finding Virgil, that’s my son, some food as he was about to start solids and I’ve never had a child, so I was unsure of what to buy him and she helped.”  Logan smiled as Virgil looked up to find him, getting off the ground to waddle over and hold his hands up.   He picked up Virgil, who pulled his glasses off his face and held them out to Nico.

“Space!”

Nico took the glasses and nodded seriously.  “Space.”

Virgil, pleased, wiggled out of Logan’s grip again, but not before stealing a stuffed animal from the pile.

Nico handed him his glasses.  “He’s sweet.”

“Indeed.”  Logan smiled fondly before shaking himself out of it.  “So, what brings you here?”

“Kat invited me because, and I quote: ‘There’s gonna be a hot boy here, I swear it.’”  Nico grinned at him.  “She wasn’t wrong.”

Logan felt the blush start to creep up his face and he swallowed nervously.  “Oh?”

“Yeah.  It’s a pity I don’t know his number.”  Nico leaned back on the couch and shrugged.  “It’s also a pity that there’s not really any mistletoe nearby, the cat’s allergic.”

Logan felt like he was gonna die.

“Guess I’ll never know.”

“Ifyoureallywantmynumberyoucouldhaveit.”  Logan blurted out in a rush.

Nico gave him a blinding grin.  “Sounds like a date.”

Yeah, Logan had made some dumb decisions in his teenage years.  But if it had led him to a warm Christmas party, with a cute boy his age next to him and an adorable son playing with his friend’s kids…

Was it really dumb?