#this motherfucker took me almost ten (10) days

[callmehere-iwillappear]

(PLEASE mind the tags btw ok love yall)

[mermazeablaze]

When I was 4 yrs old (1994) my mom turned our den into my playroom. So for some reason I got the bright idea to place a hard plastic Happy meal toy on the floor. I stood on an old dining room table that I used for arts & crafts. Then proceeded to jump off the table onto the toy. Oh boy, I've twisted my ankle before & it's an intense pain. But JFC have you ever sprained the bridge of your foot? Like holy shit, it's like ten times worse. That's what I did at four years old. Yes, my mom took me to the hospital.

Fast forward when I was 9/10 years old. I was at the public park with my family playing on the bridge of the big toy. & though I wasn't even running or jumping. I stepped a certain way or something. & let out a blood curdling scream. Because it aggravated that injury. Again, mom took me to the hospital.

Then when I was 12/13 yrs old, I went to the skating rink I practically grew up at with my best friend at the time. She wanted to flirt with some slightly older boys. I liked flirting with boys, but wanted to just hang out with her that night. Apparently one of the boys told her, "We're not hanging out with you without your big titted friend."

This did not endear me to them. Anyway, she grabbed me by both hands trying to pull me towards them & I was skating backwards. I yanked away with all my might & landed **HARD** on my bended elbows. Both my arms were sprained from the elbow down to the wrist. & MOTHERFUCKER, it was EXCRUCIATING. It took MONTHS to heal.

My mom was pissed. She made my friend's parents pay my ER bill.

Now to this day if the weather is just right, usually cold or if I move just the right way or just because - all three injuries like to act up.

& being my age (34), I have lost a lot of people over my life. & honestly, that venn diagram is cruelly almost laughably spot on. Because there are times the weather is just right or you move a certain way or just because & you feel that unimaginable loss all over again.

((I also want to throw in that I have a ridiculous pain tolerance. & those sprains turn me into a little bitch. 😭))

[truestoriesaboutme]

So I'm home for the holidays and those holidays include Daylight Savings Time and this morning, my mom gave me a task: I must turn back the clocks. This is a task because in her tiny, two bedroom apartment she has 17 clocks. (19 if you count the stove and the microwave).

So I took an opportunity to take an inventory of my mother's clocks, which you can find below the cut.

The Guest Bedroom:

The guest bedroom only has this one clock, an alarm clock that I believe you can program songs into but I don't know because I never have. It seems like it wants to party but honestly feels like it's trying a little too hard.

The Bathroom

The bathroom has two clocks. The one on top is a monster! If you can't tell, it's almost two feet across and watches you while you poop. It's joined by its smaller, more stylish partner. I have my suspicions that the latter will eventually murder the former for its insurance money.

The Main Bedroom:

The main bedroom has three clocks. Let me focus on the first two for a second.

The first is a pretty standard wall clock of the Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared variety. It hasn't come to life yet, but I'm watching it. The second is a little digital alarm clock that glows and changes colors. This clock is held by a two-dimensional hobbit-sized wooden butler who looks like Mario and is older than I am. He has almost certainly come to life at least once but I don't have footage to prove it.

But let's take a second to look at the main event here:

My mom collects clocks because her stepdad collected clocks. She gave this to him for his birthday years ago and, when he passed, my grandma gave it back. The only way to describe this is that it's a pirate clock. On its face is a map. And inside?

Inside there's treasure.

The Kitchen

The kitchen technically has three clocks but two of them are the digital clocks on the stove and the microwave so we're gonna focus on this boy here:

I'm gonna perfectly honest. I don't think this clock has actually been to Paris.

The Living Room:

This is the main event. The living room has ten (10!) clocks.

First, check out this motherfucker:

My grandfather, the one from which my mother's obsession springs, built this clock himself, from a kit. Sadly it doesn't work anymore, but maybe one day we'll fix it. This one also looks like a chest, but the only thing inside it is clock. This clock sits on a low shelf, close to the floor, in contrast to...

The Queen

The queen is a chiming clock. We honestly don't even notice the chimes anymore most of the time. But whenever anyone comes over, they quickly realize that this lady chimes every fifteen minutes. She sits on a high shelf of authority and watches over the wall.

Wait, did I mention the wall?

Meet the clock wall.

This is the wall from which time springs. If this wall was knocked down, every clock on earth would stand still. The clock wall has 7 clocks on it and the theme is vaguely nautical. A lot of the clocks look like they were made out of driftwood from a teal, vaguely Evangelical sailboat. The rest are nature themed. Water and earth. Death and Life. Seven clocks for the seven seals of revelations. Upon this wall is writ the story of every soul and when the world ends, I will change the batteries and the universe will begin again.

But I don't want to talk about the clock wall. I wanna talk about this guy:

This poor guy is on the wall NEXT to the clock wall. He sits apart, forever alone.

You can see him here, gazing longingly at the party that he wasn't invited to:

Poor guy. I don't know what he did to deserve banishment but I can't imagine the punishment was just.

Anyway, these are my mom's clocks and she loves them and it took me an hour to change them this morning and I know this because i spent the whole time looking at fucking clocks.

[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...

[liathgray]

Ranking fmab characters worst to best

(Please don’t take this seriously)

1. Khymbleigh

- Lives in the sewers

- Committed mass murder

- Has a silly idiot hat

- Called me a dyke :(

2. Shou Tucker

- fuck this guy.

- Electric chair

- Also hes balding what a loser

3. Dwarf in the Bong

- mike wazoski lookin ass

- Literally the greasiest motherfucker on the planet

- Was one of the only characters introduced by NOT beating up Ed or Al..??

- Smells like rotten cabbage

4. Moy Rustang

- Incel

- Has stupid hair

- War criminal

- Teen dad

- Canon fat tits

- Useless🥰

5. Envy

- a bitch

6. Whorehenheim

- deadbeat

- Has never taken a shower in his life

- Only wears glasses because he thinks its quirky and cute

- Took the fattest bong rip of all time

- Also killed thousands

7. Tim Marcoh

- doctor and deserted the military

- honestly pretty chill

- But his name is Tim so... *cocks gun*

8. Bradley

- :/

- Killed a lesbian and thus is homophobic

- He wears an eyepatch despite having both eyes.

9. Elicia and Gracia Hughes

- tax evaders

10. Jean Havoc

- cool dude

- Cohntry boyy i luv youuu

- Did not look respectfully

- Smokes. Must be executed

11. Gluttony, pride and Sloth

- assholes but also what the fuck

- This boy like 10

- Wheres his babysitter

- fast????????

12. Armstrong

- his arms are strong

- Lil bitch

- Got his ass beat my his hot lesbian sister

13. Lust

- is sexy

- Murderer :(

- Big tibbies so she gets extra points

- She was just checking if roy and havoc were cake

14. Scar’s brother

- Truth took his cock.

15. Truth

- took Scar’s brother’s cock

16. Barry the chopper & the slicer

- criminals

- Almost killed Ed and Al

- Kinda sexy tho 😳

17. Greed (OG)

- greasy garbage man

- Got cucked after two eps

- Has dumb hair

- Was funny

18. Yoki

- He yo the ki or whatever

- I dont remember him

19. Fu and Lan Fan

- Legs for days!!!

- Breaking and entering

- Lan fan smugly cutting off her arm and saying “I beat you” awakened something in me

- Fu got shanked :(

20. Rose Thomas

- Maybe im gay. What of it?

- Almost shot Ed lmaooo

- Probably owns a ukulele

- Local

21. Greed 2.0

- stupid

- Beats the fuck out of Bradley

- Might’ve eaten dirt

- Went camping for five months instead of being helpful

- Aphobe :/

22. Ling

- freeloader

- Diabetic??????

- Smells like broke

- Gay little bitch boy

23. Sheska

- haha nerd

- I’m in love with you

- Was only in two episodes :(

24. Captain Buccaneer

- Off his shits always

- Took ten years to die lmfaooo

- MLM but a gatekeeper

25. Major Miles

- His facial hair is atrocious

- Otherwise? King

- Sunglasses indoors... ur on thin ice

- Turn around bright eyes...

26. Father Cornello

- So theres this middle aged man...

- Won the sexiest character poll on twitter

- Re🤢🤢 l🤢🤢. r-r-religous🤢🤢🤢c-cor🤮🤮 religious corruption

- Got gunched lol

26. Kain Fuery

- Has watched pulp fiction

- Haha glasses

- Probably volunteers at a animal shelter

27. Vato falman

- Skinny legend

- Genuinely cool and has development at briggs

- Go white boy go

28. Heymans Breda

- Has a moped

- Could crush my spine but wouldnt ❤️

- Crew cut 🤢🤢

29. Xiao Mei

- small and filled with rage

- Has good taste

- Gunch??????

- Literally so small please be careful

30. Gay chimeras

- TWO MEN

- WE’RE BURLY

- WE’LL DO WHAT YOU WANT

- cottagecore

31. Pinako Rockbell

- has been high off her ass for the past three years

- Sultry doctor who lives in a faraway town 😳😳😳 hello ma’am 😳

- Hair is definitely a weapon. Shits pointy

- Home wrecker

32. Sig

- wide

- Very wide

- Kiss kiss

- Only eats potatoes

33. Riza Hawkeye

- big arms big arms big arms biG ARMS BIG ARMS

- Would kill roy on sight

- she should kiss me

- rn

34. Maes Hughes

- had a band in highschool named frog soda or some shit like that

- Pretty cool! Nice to ed and al and winry

- Good dad

- Dead lol

35. Olivier Armstrong

- goth gf

- Sword.... sword hot.....

- Killed a dude for being annoying and I respect that

- Snorts snow and says its coke to freak people out

- Gay ass....

36. Ed Elric

- ok gay boy

- Makes everyones life hell. Good for him

- NERD????? A FUCKING NERD???

- I’d steal his lunch money

- No tiddies?

- :/

- Short king

37. Maria Ross and Denny Brosh

- wlw mlm solidarity

- maria ... hold my h-hand...

- literally had nothing to do with this but got McFcuked anyways

38. Scar

- acab

- Was right

- Dilf

39. Al Elric

- likes cats so he’s automatically superior

- Malnourished 😔✌️

- Cha cha slide in full armour

- Mean but only to Ed ❤️

- I love when he *king noises*

40. Izumi Curtis

- kiss me sexy woman

- Stole from briggs because fuck the military

- .. m...milf..

41. Paninya

- fucking superb you funky little lesbian

42. Winry Rockbell

- NERD!!! NERD !!

- Curb stomps her enemies

- Acab but also stole Riza’s look so 😳

- Is she.. u kno💅

43. Mei Chang

- her life is a YA drama

- gained a dad by being perfect

- bullies Ed

- is better than everyone

And finally..... the best character in fmab...

Resurrected Trisha

- 😳😳😳

- Yes i do the cookin yes i do the cleanin

- 😩😩😩

[mahounostairs]

Countdown to Midnight

Rating: G/T

So I wrote this because I couldn't get the big scene here out of my head. Anyway I fucking love them, they're dumbass gays. I was gonna post this on the eve but ehhhhhhh. I wanted to post it now Happy New Year motherfucks.

[Originally posted December 30, 2019]

I meant to post this on New Year’s this year but uhhh sludge took over enjoy one of my older tm fics

It was that time of the year again. December 31st, the day when every single human on the face of the planet stays up until midnight to welcome the new year and then unceremoniously pass out in God knows where. Normally, Kaoru didn't really celebrate the new year, but a certain blonde prince and hyperactive boy with pink glasses begged him to come to the office's New Year's party. Even when he was still a doctor, he rarely went to parties hosted by his co-workers. Kaoru would admit he found the party fun, yet he found himself on the roof of the office away from it all. The street was lit up by streetlights and windows of various buildings, the occasional person or couple leaving footprints behind them in the snow. It was all therapeutic to watch, in a way.

"Sakuraba?" An all too familiar voice pierced his thoughts, "What are you doing out here? It's freezing!"

Kaoru didn't even need to turn around. "I just needed some air, that's all."

Teru strode over to his side, "You've been getting that air for like, ten minutes now." He put an arm on the railing, "Did your feet freeze in place or something?"

He rolled his eyes at the comment. "Very funny, Tendou." His voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Good! I don't have to break the ice then!" Kaoru gave him a dirty look. "Hey, you gotta admit it was a little funny!"

A smirk perked at Kaoru's lips, "Only a tad."

"Ah-ha!" A triumphant grin crossed his face, "So do you find me funny!"

He sighed, “Only a little bit.”

“So you finally ad--wait huh?” Teru stared at him in dumbfoundment. “Are you serious, like, actually serious?”

“Guess your stupid puns have started to grow on me.”

Teru opened his mouth to reply but- “FIFTEEN SECONDS TO MIDNIGHT Y’ALL!!” an energetic voice came from inside the office, “IT’S GONNA BE MEGA MEGA LIT!!!!”

The two stared at each other for a moment as it only grew noisier inside. “So, should we head back in?” suggested Teru.

Kaoru shook his head, “I’ll stay out here a bit longer.”

A pause, then Teru spoke again, “I think I’ll stay out here with you.”

10!

"Hey, so uh."

"Hmm?" Kaoru hummed, "What is it?"

9!

"I. I wanna tell you something." Teru stammered out.

Kaoru raised an eyebrow, "Really now?"

8!

He gave Kaoru a look, "Yes, really!"

"Then go ahead and say it."

7!

A light flush rose up Teru's cheeks, "I will, I will!"

"If you say so." he rolled his eyes.

6!

"Sakuraba, I." he paused, “I...” His fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the railing.

"Are you going to say it before midnight or what?"

"Would you let me finish?"

5!

"Sakuraba," Teru looked him dead in the eye, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Kaoru stood with his mouth agape, "I..."

4!

“Ah, um. I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way.” Teru’s face was almost as red as his hair, “Even I’m still surprised I feel like this about you. G-go ahead and slap or punch me if you wish!”

"...I feel the same way about you, Tendou."

3!

"Eh? R-r-really?!" Teru’s voice cracked slightly.

With a blush, Kaoru nodded. “I think, I love you too.”

2!

“Th-then!” Teru reached a hand out to touch Kaoru’s cheek, “Is it ok if we, y’know, kiss?”

His blush only deepened, “Y-yeah.”

“Ok then!”

Kaoru's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in.

1!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

The two of them slowly pulled away from each other. Letting their fingers intertwine as the cold air made their breath visible. “W-wow...” Teru sighed out with wide eyes.

“Th-that was,” Kaoru cursed his newfound tongue-tied-ness, “quite good.”

Teru chuckled lightly, “Yeah, it was.” An awkward silence filled the air. "So, was that your first kiss?"

Embarrassedly, Kaoru nodded, "Was it your's?"

He let out an awkward laugh, "Second, actually. Rather not talk about my first."

“I see." Kaoru looked down away from him for a second. "Do you think,” his blush rose up to his ears, “you’d want to spend the night at my apartment?”

Teru was caught off guard by the offer. “Yes, actually!” he replied with a smile, “But, one last thing.”

“What is it?”

He kissed Kaoru again, “Happy new year, Sakuraba!”

[mytrashs-blog]

Drunk On You- T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Please do not read this if you’re under 18. The Smutty part is between this signs: [...] so if you want to skip over the smut, you can, but it won’t make much sense. Also... There’s A LOT of swearing.

Summary: You’re a virgin and you’re drunk so you send a risky DM on instagram.

Word Count: Almost 6k... she’s thicc

A/N: I cannot tell you just how much I enjoyed writing this! It started as a 2 am inspiration punch and then it took me three weeks to finish it. It’s my first time writing smut, so I don’t know if that part’s good, but I like it and I really hope you do too. (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Masterlist

(Gif isn’t mine and I couldn’t track the author, so credits go to the owner)

Fuck this shit, you’re 22 years old, you’re in college and as much as you enjoy leaving fratboys with blue balls in the middle of a party, you need to get this over with. You’re tired of waiting for the “right guy”, if you keep on doing that you’ll end up virgin for your whole fucking life. But where the fuck can you find a guy that’s not gonna judge you for being a sad, drunk virgin in the middle of a tuesday night? Being drunk and alone at your dorm was pathetic enough…

So you scroll through instagram for a while only to find out there’s no right suitor for the job, but in the heat of the moment you notice that Tom Holland, yes the scrawny white boy that looks 12 and plays Spider-man has just posted a shirtless picture and boy, he does not look 12 anymore. So you slide into his DM’s just for the shit and giggles:

“Hey, Tommy boy!

You probably get millions of DMs like this every second of everyday, but fuck, I just wanted to say that you are extremely hot and I am extremely virgin and I’m also drunk, so I thought I’d write you to ask for a massive favor.

Would you have sex with me just to take my virginity away? Ok, thanks.

Bye!

P.S. I think you’re great in your new film.”

And yes, you did press send to that, but of course you don’t even remember writing it in the first place the next morning while getting ready for your 9am class, so your daily routine goes on as normal.

But then, while you’re making your best effort not to fall asleep while your professor talks about some depressed artist that beat his wife and was super sexist, but was somehow excused because he made some decent poem, you hear the unmistakeable ping of your phone, which can only mean that you got a text, so you go to see it, because that is far less rude than falling asleep during class, but you were surely not ready for what was showing on your phone screen.

All air, and life to be honest, left your body for a second, you double checked, and then triple checked and yes… Tom Holland had wrote you on instagram’s direct messages.

“Holy fuck” you only realize you said that out loud when the three people closest you turn to look at you and shush you, but you’re still in shock and still have not opened the message, but maybe it’s not a great idea to open it in front of everybody, specially your professor, so you figure the bathroom will be the best place to do it.

You lock yourself in a stall and sit down, get your phone out, take a deep breath and open the instagram message. My God, you were not expecting what your screen showed:

“Haha, this is too cool to ignore! I happen to be in your area right now… Give me a call and I’ll make it happen ;)”

And yes, his phone number was there too. The phone number of THE Tom Holland! like… WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! What are the odds of him actually reading your DM? And the odds of him replying? And the odds of TOM MOTHERFUCKING HOLLAND agreeing to be your first time?! Someone up there must be having a good laugh.

But it would be rude to chicken out now, right? One does not simply say no to fuck with a Marvel actor. You gotta do it. It's your holy duty. So you reply with a simple “Looking forward to it” and you get your shit together before returning to your class.

You think about texting him while you walk to grab some lunch, but what do you say to a celebrity that agreed to deflower you?… Wait. Holy shit! You’re actually gonna have sex with Tom Holland! He’s super ripped! And you’re gonna see and feel all his bits and pieces… honestly, your panties got a bit damp just thinking about that. This is gonna be fun.

You decide to shoot the text while waiting for your iced coffee. “Hey, it’s (Y/N) from instagram. Are you serious about the thing? If so, when are you available?”

And that’s when the game begins, cause he replied almost instantly and you decided he’s just another fratboy playing around, so you played along.

“I’m dead serious, babe. I can do it tonight.”

“Nice. That’s how I like it… what time are we talking about?”

“9 ish, maybe 10.”

“Gotta give me an hour… also, it would have to be at yours, cause I live in a dorm that I share with another girl.”

“You could ask her to join…”

“Haha. Nah, this is all for me to enjoy.”

“And you will. 9:30 sounds good for you, babe?

“Perfect.”

“I can pick you up. Send me your location and I’ll go there.”

“Nice. I’m liking it already.”

“You’ll like it even more.”

You go about your day with a stupid smile all day, nervous and excited for what’s gonna happen later. Paying attention to class? What is that? Concentrating on your due projects? You don’t know her. All you can do is think about the things that man might do to you later.

Wait… you gotta shave. Also, should you go buy some nice underwear? It overwhelms you how unprepared you are and you run, abandoning everything you had to do that day to go get ready to have sex with a super hot celebrity.

You shaved, exfoliated, bought nice underwear, picked out a sexy outfit, you even tried to work out a little to look a bit more toned for him. You allowed your most extra self to come and shine, and you definetely enjoyed the process.

“What are you getting ready for? It’s wednesday. I doubt there’s any interesting party. Oh God! Do you have a date?” your roomate asked as soon as she saw you posing a skirt for the mirror when she walked in.

“I think so… I don’t know. I’m gonna meet this guy I met on instagram.” She gave you a corncerned look, but you were definetely not gonna tell her the details, that’s extremely private, it’s rude to tell people about celebrities intimate life, even if it’s with you. He didn’t mention anything about keeping it secret, but it would do a lot of harm to freely go around saying that he likes having sex with fans. It would ruin his privacy completely. At least from your part, you can guarantee no one’s ever gonna find out.

True to your word, you sent him your location an hour before the time you arranged and he called you, yes. HE CALLED YOU at 9:30p.m. on the dot to tell you he was outside and it took you a second to process the call, so much that you couldn’t voice anything more than an “Okay”… that basically ruined your super confident text attitude, and this was over the phone, would you even be able to get inside his car? The nervousness really hit you like a truck the second you hung up the phone, and your roomate noticed, but she didn’t say anything.

After taking a few deep breaths and counting to ten trying to calm yourself down, you get your purse and walk down the hallway and the stairs of the dorms and by the time you get to the main door, your legs are shaking like crazy and your palms are a little sweaty, so you gotta calm down again and remind yourself that this man is just a regular human being and that nothing has to happen if you don’t want to. And just like with tequila shots, you stop thinking and just go for it.

As soon as you see the car, you walk confidently towards it, and as he rolls down the window you can see it really is him, but you don’t let his face tear your confidence down, so you slightly smile and get in the car, it’s an extremely fancy car and you’re sure you’ve never set foot in anything this luxurious, honestly there’s no doubt that the seat your ass is resting on right now could easily be worth your entire college tuition and student loans. Okay, maybe that is an exageration, but it sure looks expensive.

“Hey, nice to finally meet you in person… I’m Tom!” he smiles in a polite and friendly matter, and you can see there’s a hint of nervousness in his smile aswell and that eases you a little because it confirms that he’s just as normal as you are.

“I’m (Y/N), pleasure to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to do this. I know it’s super weird and all, and I was definetely not expecting this outcome when I sent that message last night, but I’m grateful regardless…” you’re rambling, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he looks amused even. When you finally stop talking he drives away and you fall into a slightly uncomfortable silence, until he turns the music on and you recognize the song so you start humming along, and he joins, but other than that, there’s not much talking on the way to the apartment he’s staying at temporarily right now.

The place looks expensive, but it’s also very simply decored, it does look a temporary thing, but it also looks like a place where a single chaotic youn man exploded, so there’s empty beer bottles here and there, clothes literally everywhere and dirty dishes in the sink… but it does smell like cologne, very manly aswell… being at his place sets a whole new level of anxiety, because this is just so intimate. You’re inside his little world, his safe space, and even if it’s just for a brief moment you’re just happy that he agreed to do this with you.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have wine, beer and a spare champagne bottle from the other night… or just water. Please make yourself comfortable, sorry about the mess, I really don’t like cleaning.”

“That’s alright… you should see my dorm during finals week, that’s a whole other level of messy, haha… and wine would be great, thanks.” You’re slowly calming down and trying no to overthink about what’s about to happen and forget about the reputation of the man you’re doing it with, because the fact that he’s famous doesn’t mean he’s less human and maybe glorifying him for his job is a little rude from you. So you sit down in the couch, right next to a thrown blue hoodie, hold on a second… this is the one from Spider-Man: Homecoming, the one with the emblem of the highschool, shit, this is a historical piece of clothing for the cinematic world and you’re sitting right next to it. Shit, there goes all the progress you had made in the last fifteen minutes.

When he comes back with two glasses of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other one, you help him put down the stuff safely because he looks so stressed carrying the things and it is a small funny moment, before he sits down right beside you and it becomes impossible to get your words to come out of your mouth. So he takes the lead.

“Listen, I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of predator, okay? I don’t know why I agreed to do this, but it was not to take advantage of you, so if at any point you feel uncomfortable and you don’t wanna do this anymore, you can just tell me and we’ll call this off, okay.” He puts his hand on you knee to reassure you and it does make you feel better, and you relax into your seat  and just nod a little before speaking.

“Thank you” And it comes out like you’re breathing out in relief, and that’s when he leans in to kiss you and you take a deep breath before corresponding and taking the last step to seal your lips together.

Your mind just goes blank and you forget what you were nervous about in the first place, kissing Tom is not that much different than kissing any other guy, except for the fact that his lips are softer than most guys’, but this one does have to take care of himself, it is literally part of his job and it should not be that surprising that a guy takes basic care for his appearance, but it is nice.

[…]

The kiss moves in a nice rythm and his hands start sliding from your knee to your waist and he pulls you closer to him and your hands find their courage and go to the back of his neck and so you’re also pulling him in, and all you want is to have him closer, as close as you can possibly have him, and when his hand moves down to your ass, you take that as the perfect moment to throw your leg over so you can straddle him and now both of Tom’s hands are on your ass and you grab onto his shoulders for leverage, and just because you need to breathe in properly, you let your lips disconnect and you see him beneath you.

His hand comes up to move your hair out of your face and you stare at each others eyes for a second and it doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore, so you smile at him for a brief moment, but being apart from his lips feels terrible right now so you lean back in and his hand is in your head and he’s pushing you closer to him, and your hands just slide down to his chest, you play with the chain he has on for a second and he smiles into the kiss, but then you move your attention to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them.

You take your lips to his neck and he becomes super responsive, you find his sensitive spot quite quickly and he moves you closer to him so you feel his lenght rubbing against your core and it makes you go undo the buttons faster, before you know it he’s taking the shirt off and throwing it to the floor, when his hands are free, he takes advantage and lifts your blouse and you put your arms up to give him easy access. You’re glad you rush bought that set of nice underwear, because Tom’s eyes visibly fill with lust at the sight of the barely there lacy piece covering your breasts.

He touches your chest ever so lightly it gives you goosebumps, he traces a path to your breasts but he stops right before getting to them “Can I?” he whispers, looking straight into your eyes, and there’s something so sexy about him seeking your explicit consent, it makes your panties a little wetter, you nod lightly and he goes ahead, tracing the shape of your breasts with his fingers, like he wants to get familiar with them, he takes one of your nipples between his fingers and applies a little preasure on it, and then on the other one, he’s taking his sweet time before cupping them and pressing his lips in the space between them, and your hands respond to that by taking his hair and pulling lightly and he moans into your skin and it makes you shiver.

He keeps leaving wet kisses on your nipples and sucking on sensitive spots and you can swear it will leave marks, but who cares, you’re just over the moon with everything that’s happening and you just want more and more. He takes one hand to your ass again and he holds it tightly, using the other hand he slides to the edge of the couch and just like it’s nothing heavier than an empty box, he stands up, and you gasp because frankly you were not expecting it, he laughs a little and gives you a reassuring smile.

“I just thought we’ll be more comfortable in my room.”

“Okay, then.” You find it so odd that he’s so unbothered while carrying your full weight, like you’re not exactly the lightest woman in the world, but you won’t deny that being so close and personal to his biceps like this, it’s something you could get used to.

He takes you up the stairs, and along the corridor, once you reach the door, he turns the knob but decides to kick the door rather than opening it like a normal person, but you can’t complain because every moves looks hotter than the previous, and when he lays you down on his bed and stays hovering above you, you just can’t handle it and you kiss him again, your legs hug around his bum to bring him closer where you need him and he takes the hint, he pushes your skirt to your stomach and before he does anything else, his seeks your consent “Is this okay?” he asks, “Yes.” you say loud and clear and he rubs his fingers on your core, and it feels good, but your panties feel like a concrete wall, you just need to feel his fingers, his everything all over your body, so you arch your back and unzip the skirt and he pulls it down and throws it to a corner of the room.

He takes a second to look at you in just your underwear and you feel exposed, but he’s looking at you like you’re some sort of Goddess, he kicks his shoes off and goes to undo the button of his jeans, and it looks so slow and you need him now but you watch him and when he slides down the jeans and you can make out the shape of his member. You feel a little overwhelmed with the view in front of you, and you take a moment to take it all in. His face is crowned by (now) very messy curls, his eyes that used to be brown are practically pitch black by both the dim lighting and lust, there’s freckles all over his nose and cheeks, but they’re barely noticeable, his jawline is the most defined you’ve ever been near to, but even though there are a lot of strong features in his face, he looks almost childish and innocent… until you drop your eyes to his chest, that is.

Every single muscle in his chest has some sort of definition, he’s not as ripped as in the movies, but then again, he’s not super dehydrated and over exercised right now, and he still looks more muscular than any guy you know, his abs are defined, there’s a visible V marking the path from his hips to his member and it is stupidly making your mouth water. He has black Calvin Kleins still on, but that’s the last piece of clothing he has on, and the anticipation is killing you.

He takes you by the ankles an pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and he spreads your legs open and gives you a devilish smile before leaning back in to give you a quick yet intense kiss on the lips and he slides down to your neck and chest again, but he keeps making his way down your body towards your bellybutton and it gives you goosebumps everytime he gives you even a peck or a light touch, you’re shivering with every touch.

“Relax, love… if you want me to stop you can just say it, okay?” He says looking up at you and you nod, you breathe in to calm your nerves down, he waits for you, when you’re finally ready you nod at him again, he gives your waist a light squeeze, smiles at you and places a kiss to your stomach and keeps kissing you lower, until one of his hands goes to your thigh while the other teases the waistband of your panties, hooking one finger on it, he starts pulling it down painfully slowly, you lift your bum to make it easier for your panties to leave your body, once Tom strecthes them to throw them to some part of the room, you sit up to take off your bra and he looks intently at you while you do it, so you smile and lock your eyes to his just to make it more interesting, and you also take your sweet time unclasping the clips, and Tom starts to get impatient, you can see it in his smile, but you enjoy playing with him so even when you do unclasp both clips, you keep the piece on and he puts his hands on his hair in exasperation and you just laugh, enjoying this small moment of being the one in charge, but you give in and take the lacy bra off and throw it to him, he catches it and throws it to the side.

You’re completely naked in his bed and he’s taking the view in. “You’re very beautiful, you know?” he says and you feel the blush creep up to your cheeks, but you smile and thank him regardless, he smiles back and leans back down, he kisses one of your thighs and then the other one, before he does anything else he looks up at you, once again looking for any signs of hesitation “Are you sure you want this?” he asks from his position and when you nod, he dives in.

He presses a light kiss into your folds and you immediately feel electricity emmiting from your core. Needless to say it’s your first time recieving an oral, every sensation is new, you can’t even tell if he’s good at this or not, but for you, it feels like the best sensation in the world, his tongue dances over your clit and you just grasp the sheets for dear life and when he sucks on it you swear you could come right there, but you manage to hold it for a little longer and he keeps going, it doesn’t take long for him to introduce one finger inside, the moan you let out is just obscene and he seems to love it, because he moans too but the vibrations that it sent to your clit make you lose it and you come yelling his name like your life depends on it and he guides you through your first orgasm of the night with his mouth and finger still pumping in and out.

“You’re dripping wet, you know that?” He tells you once you’ve calmed down and have regained your ability to function like a human being, you smile at him, trying to speak, but that function has not come back yet. He kisses you in the mouth and you can taste yourself in his mouth, you start relaxing into the kiss, and he starts tracing gentle circles on the skin of your stomach and you turn your body so can be face to face and your leg happens to feel his dick, and it feels impossibly hard, so you try to relieve the pressure by stroking it with your hand, but when you get your hand down his waistband, Tom stops you “If you touch me now, I’ll be the biggest dissapointment of your life.”

“You forget that I’m a virgin… I have nothing to compare you to.”

“Still… I’ve got my pride.” he finishes as he gets up and rumbles in a drawer of his nightstand, he finds the condom and shows it to you. “Do you want to do this?”

You take a deep breath, there’s nothing you want more than do it right now, but it sure makes you nervous, still you give him verbal consent “Yes, I do.”

That’s all he needs, he stands up completely and takes his underwear off, it happens quite fast, but you do get to apreciate his dick in full exposure, not that you’d know, but it sure looks like it’s gonna be hard to fit that inside of you, and you panic a little and Tom notices and chuckles while he slides the condom on, “It’s gonna be alright, I’ll make sure of it.”

He crawls back to the bed and hovers above you, his hand go to your core again and he slowly introduces one finger into you and starts pumping in and out slowly, he stays looking in your eyes, watching your every reaction, you’re moaning slightly, when he notices that you’ve gotten used to the sensation, he adds another digit and the pressure feels uncomfortable, but he notices so he waits for you to get used to the feeling before he starts pumping it, you bite your lip as you enjoy his movements, moans coming out of your mouth to the rythm of his fingers, when he starts stretching you by doing scissor motions with his fingers, the feeling increases and it is a lot more intense so you hold onto his arm, he’s still looking at you, wanting to be sure that you’re okay and staying alert to see any signs of discomfort in you, but you like it so much.

He takes his fingers out and the emptiness is just overwhelming, but when you see that he’s trying to align himself to your entry, you relax and stress at the same time. This is real. It’s gonna happen. Actually it’s happening at this moment. He looks at you again and lifts his eyebrows in question, you nod lightly and you hold on to his forearm and his neck in preparation. He pushes slowly in, it hurts a little but it’s not that bad, Tom sees you wincing and stops, waiting for you to get used to the new feeling, when you do, he keeps pushing a little. The rythm goes like that until he’s fully in.

You can see he’s having a hard time trying not to hurt you, it’s clear that he just wants to go for it, but you’re grateful he’s containing himself while you get used to the feeling of being so full right now, when you’re ready, you nod at him and he pulls slightly out, waits for you, and pushes back in. The rythm is slow at first for you to get used to it. At first it feels like too much, but the more he thrusts into you, it starts being not enough.

His grunts and moans sound heavinly to your ears, and whenever you are brave enough to just open your eyes and see him, his face is just so beautiful, he has a frown in his face out of concentration and self control, you’re admiring him when he opens his eyes and they meet yours, it’s such an intimate moment, it makes you blush a little bit, you caress his cheek and hair, interlocking your fingers in his curly locks, he lets out a soft moan in pleasure.

The pace gets faster and stronger and you’re getting closer to your high with every thrust, he’s hitting a point inside of you that you didn’t even know existed and it’s a whole new level of pleasure, it’s even making you feel like the world is spinning, you grab onto his back and scratch as you try to keep it together, he moans loudly and stops and pulls out suddenly.

“Get on all fours for me, love.” he tells you and you comply, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed so he can fuck you while standing up off the bed, you try to arch your back to give him better access, he slides in easier now, and the sensation changes completely, he’s hitting another point that feels even better in this angle, the pleasure doesn’t let you stay stable and your arms can’t keep you up, so you press your face to a pillow and you can’t stop moaning his name, your high creeping up from your stomach once again.

“T- Tom… I think I’m gonna…”

“Wait for me, darling, I’m right there with you.”

His thrusts become sloppy and arythmic, he goes faster, his grunts louder with each thrust, your names falls from his mouth a lot more now, and his is the only word you can say at this point. You come first with an incredibly loud moan of his name. The feeling of you reaching your orgasm around his dick is enough to send him over the edge too, your name being dropped with a loud grunt, he squeezes your breast and rests his head on your back when he comes down from his high, both of you panting. You stay like that for a moment, but then Tom pulls out and goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

[…]

You lay in the bed completely naked, but you do feel more exposed now that the moment’s over, so you cover up with a pillow and think about what just happened, relishing on how good it was, you figure this was the best idea you’ve had in a while, even if the most ridiculous but it worked out pretty well.

Tom comes back soon after and hands you a water bottle (because he apparently just keeps water bottles in his bathroom), you thank him and he lays in the bed with you. “How was that?” he asks you in some worried matter, like his whole career depended on your answer, you look at him and smile at him like he’s crazy, you had two orgasms, isn’t that enough proof that you liked it? when the anxiety becomes aparent in his face, you give him the verbal confirmation. “Of course I did, wasn’t it obvious?” you say while trying to hide your face, he takes your arms to stop you from doing so.

“Y/N! Don’t hide! It was actually really good for me too, and I’m happy you had a good first time, it’s cool.”

You smile at him bigger now, getting more comfortable now, and he leans to leave a kiss on your forehead, and you lay there just chilling for a while. Checking the clock in Tom’s bedside table you realize it’s almost 2 in the morning, you haven’t talked about this, but you think it’s not a good idea to stay the night, maybe he has things to do tomorrow, and you do have a class at 9, so you start to get up to recolect your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Tom asks in a whiny tone, he was right about to fall asleep before you got up.

“I think it’s time for me to leave, it’s quite late and I’ve got class tomorrow.” you reply with a slightly sad tone, just for the drama.

“You don’t have to go. There’s no way I’m letting you take an uber and I’m too lazy to get up and drive you… so stay, I promise I’ll take you to your front door tomorrow morning, alright?” also, he gives you mad puppy eyes to convince you, but you still move around the room trying to find your underwear, just to not be naked anymore.

“Okay, just let me put some clothes back on, cause this is weird.”

“Can you throw me my underwear, please?”

“Yeah, just let me try and find them.” You throw them at him once you find them among the mess and they land straight in his face, you just gotta laugh at it and he just rolls his eyes at you and puts the thing on jokingly bitching about you being rude to him and you just laugh at him while you walk back to the bed.

At some point, Tom goes to retrieve your clothes and the wine from the living room while you just scroll through your phone absent mindedly, you half read the tweets and just ignore the instagram posts you see until he gets back and gives you your barely touched glass of wine and lays back down next to you.

You stay there for a while just talking and drinking, actually getting to know each other, you tell him about your major in college, how hard it gets sometimes, and you even tell him about why you had never had sex before. He tells you about his work, his family, the things he wants to do next… he does tell you a little tiny spoiler of the future of Marvel, which you had to swear you wouldn’t reveal to anyone ever and it would be a secret you take to your graveyard. It’s a nice pillow talk, you’re laying in the bed, facing each other, his hand is lazily resting on your waist, yours playing with the chain on his neck. This is likely even more intimate than the sex itself, and it’s nice.

When you do finally fall asleep, is in that position. Wine bottle completely empty in the floor, clothes laying around, only sound in the room being the light snores of Tom and heavy sleep breathing. You’re extremely comfortable and relaxed, long forgotten how nervous you were before this happened. You could get used to this.

Your slumber is ruined when the alarm goes off at half 7 in the morning, you feel tired, but you get your clothes back on anyway, Tom takes a little longer to fully wake up, but he keeps his promise and throws a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, he also throws a hat on just to not deal with his morning/sex hair, for the same reason, you also just put your hair in a messy bun.

He actually parks the car and walks you back to your dorm, it’s quite early, but there is some people around the hallways anyways and it makes you a bit anxious thinking you might get him in trouble if he does get recognized, but he seems relaxed and unbothered about it anyway.

“I had a lot of fun. It was really nice to get to know you… call me up if you ever want to do this again, okay?” he tells you with his hands stuck in his pockets, it makes you smile how cute he looks.

“Thank you, Tom. I really enjoyed it… thanks for not being weird about this whole thing.”

“That’s alright. Okay, take care and don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Okay.” He gives you a last kiss on the cheek before you get inside your dorm to get ready for class, and he goes back home, and that is it.

Months go by without you ever talking to or about Tom, you just assumed that was the end of everything you lived with him and it is a lovely and super hot thing to remember, but there's nothing more to it.

Bing

Your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You were studying, so you weren't talking to anyone. As you check the notification, you freeze just like you did the first time you saw his name on your screen.

"Hey! I'm in your town! What are you up to?"

-

Tagging some people to avoid the flop:

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

[aforrestofstuff]

What would happen at an s-class slumber party? Including Saitama I guess. Like who falls asleep first, who plays games, etc

I got these two asks like, literally ten minutes apart and idk what prompted all of these sleepy time curiosities pertaining to the S-Class but I am HERE for it. I’m gonna put them together into one masterpost because they’re roughly the same thing lol. Thanks for requesting stuff y’all! 😄💖

I was having trouble thinking of a possible scenario that could explain why the S-Class would even want to be in the same room together for more than 30 minutes, let alone have a sleepover. The best I could come up with is Sitch paid them all a handsome sum to sleep in the Hero Association lobby and stand guard because there’s an S-Class threat hit squad on the hunt for his executive ass. And, being the cheap-asses that they all are, they took the offer.

Now, with that out of the way, let’s get crackin fellas:

Tornado of Terror: She’s grumpy as all hell to be here (even though she got paid the most), so she just falls the fuck asleep and tells everyone to wake her up at the first sign of trouble because she thinks she’s the only one who’s capable enough to deal with it. She brings a pillow, a blanket, her jammies, and a teddy to sleep with. If anyone dares to open their mouth about Sir Stuffers then she’ll gladly explode their head.

Silverfang: Volunteers to take first watch, but because he’s an old shit he falls asleep 20 minutes into his shift. He doesn’t bring anything to sleep with because he convinced himself that he has the willpower to stay up all night but Charanko “accidentally” mixed melatonin into Silverfang’s tea before he left for the mission so now he’s passed the fuck out and not waking up anytime soon.

Atomic Samurai: Same as Silverfang: thinks he can stay up to stand watch and falls asleep 10 seconds into his shift. Except, he doesn’t need to be poisoned to accidentally fall asleep because dealing with his disciples is a triple full-time job and as a result, daddy Kami is always ready to pass the fuck out at any time. He’s basically a narcoleptic past 8pm. To sleep with, he brought a ratty-ass pillow and a bottle of night juice (saké).

Child Emperor: is nocturnal and completely fine with staying up all night, so he’s on watch the whole time. Although, the sound of candy wrappers makes it hard for anyone else to sleep and as a result, everyone is ready to punt this kid by 3am. He shows up in gym shorts and a t-shirt because what’s the point of getting dressed with these hooligans and spends the whole night hanging out with Zombieman. Although, he did bring a sleeping bag and pillow just incase he wants to take a power nap.

Metal Knight: Shows up in a power suit like this mf in Pacific Rim. Everyone thinks he’s just controlling a drone remotely but Sitch told him if he doesn’t show up in person then he doesn’t get the money, so he’s sitting in this tin can the whole time and trying his best to stay awake (he passes out by midnight). He’s also in his underwear. Idk why that was worth it to mention but there you go ❤️

King: Mentally on the verge of a breakdown at the thought of spending the whole night with these jackasses but shows up anyway because he wants that PS5 and is willing to do anything to get it. He gets there in his jammies, sets down his pikachu sleeping bag, and falls asleep without saying hi or offering to take watch. Everyone thinks that he’ll wake up naturally at the first sign of trouble and finds it really impressive that he fell asleep so fast, but he really just passed out from hyperventilating so hard. He would normally be perfectly fine with staying up all night because he’s a gamer and he does it all the time anyway, but anxiety really do be like that sometimes.

Zombieman: Is nocturnal like Child Emperor when he wants to be, but can also fall asleep in .2 seconds on a bed of nails. He’s perfectly fine with staying up all night because he constantly does it when following leads on a case and doesn’t bother bringing anything to sleep on. In fact, he shows up in full gear because he’s mildly paranoid and he wears it all the time anyway, it’s basically a second skin by now. He spends the night playing cards with CE and taking occasional sips from a flask to calm his nerves. They also take turns telling spooky ghost stories by the light of Zombieman’s lighter, to which he pretends to be scared. When he wants to smoke, he does it by Bofoi’s machine because fuck that guy.

Drive Knight: Forgot to change his Duracells the day before and falls over the second he walks in the door. Everyone thinks he’s a lazy ass for falling asleep so soon but he’s actually in a robo-medical emergency.

Pig God: is perfectly fine with staying up all night because, as I’ve said on multiple other hcs, he’s a hardcore gamer and being nocturnal is basically second nature. However, like Child Emperor, the sound of him constantly eating in the dark has everyone ready to jump his ass by midnight. He’s dressed in his pajamas as well, and they’re so big that they share the clothing measurements of an actual humpback whale.

Superalloy Darkshine: Falls asleep by 9pm on the dot every night and knows it’s pretty much impossible for him to stay up all night so he shows up in his Bedtime Thong(tm) with a sleeping bag and kindly asks everyone to wake him up if there’s trouble. Nobody listens but he pretends they do. He also brings a “small stash” (actual grocery bag filled to the brim) of protein bars to snack on incase he gets hungry in the middle of the night and offers a few to everyone, to which they decline (ultra-vegan keto-friendly gluten-free sugar-free flavor-free protein bars taste like actual garbage). And because he drinks a swimming pool of water every day (gotta stay at peak physique, yo), he gets up at least 12 times in the middle of the night to pee and he pisses so loud for no reason that it sounds like there’s a waterfall in the next room.

Watchdog Man: Carries his human-sized doggy bed in with his mouth and falls the fuck asleep without even announcing his presence. Nobody even notices he’s there. Sitch forgets to pay him.

Flashy Flash: Is fine with staying up all night to stand watch because he had to do it so many times in the ninja village anyway, but fuck me if he isn’t pissy about it. He shows up in full gear because, like Zombieman, he wears it so often that it’s basically a second skin at this point. By 2am he fucks off to take a shower because being in the same room with these people actually makes him feel unclean and he doesn’t leave the bathroom until the sun starts to rise. His hair, however, looks twice as shiny.

Genos: Shows up, points his arm cannon at the door incase of possible intruders, and doesn’t move for 12 hours. He brought Saitama along because why not and mr caped baldy greatly regrets it.

Metal Bat: Shows up in gym shorts with his bat, a blanket, and a pillow and fucks off to the corner of the room to brood. He takes watch for a few hours in between power naps, and sleeps with his phone .2 inches away from his face incase Zenko calls. When she does, he wakes up at the speed of light and loudly answers the phone like there isn’t at least 7 other people sleeping within close proximity to him. It’s never for an emergency, she just calls like 3 times into the night because she had a bad dream or she’s wondering how he’s doing. But regardless of what it is, Badd is ready to run all the way home and be with her. He just took the job because he wants to buy her a bigass gift with all the money he’ll be receiving.

Tanktop Master: Same as Superalloy, except he snores like a motherfucker. He doesn’t need waterfall piss to keep everyone up because this mf sounds like a lawn mower. He shows up in his Tanktop Pajamas (which is basically just a Tanktop with pajama bottoms) and takes watch in between power naps, to which he sleeps on a Tanktop Sleeping bag (just a regular sleeping bag, there’s literally nothing different about it) with his Tanktop Pillow (also just a regular pillow, literally nothing special about it).

Puri-Puri Prisoner: sleeps naked. Dick out.

Saitama: Gets bored as hell by 10pm and tries to wake up King so they can play video games together on his gameboy that he smuggled in, but the poor bastard is OUT. Saitama tries to sleep, however, he forgot to bring anything to sleep on so he tries to roll up his cape and use it as a pillow but, alas, he gets a neck cramp so bad that he actually almost starts to cry.

[beauregard-s]

Cherry Vodka [Part I] | Richie T. + Eddie K.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader x Eddie Kaspbrak (21+)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, nsfw material but no explicit sex (yet), alcohol, polyamory mention, kind of a modern au too

Anon said:  “ okay so based off that art you reblogged of the richie x bev x eddie, what about like a reader x richie x eddie fluffy smut based off that (i hope that makes sense bahahha)”

A/n: Yeah, I had to split it in two parts because 7k words... I’m sorry it took me so long to post it, dear anon, if you’re still outta there. I rewrote and changed the plot of this one three times and it’s inspired by this post and by the song Sleep Apnea by Beach Fossils, by the way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Richie…” “What, doll?” You felt his hand trailing down the small of your back, slowly and treacherously. 

You rolled your eyes from your book to meet Richie’s little smirk. He had his black wayfarers on, even though the sun was down in the horizon now, and behind those you knew his eyes have been glazing all over you. He was all careless laying on his side right next to you on the towel, unruly wind-dried curly hair, head up resting on a hand, the other free one teasing you because he just couldn’t help it when you’d put on that black high-cut swimsuit of yours. Eddie shared the curly-haired boy thoughts but, on the other hand, he laid peacefully flat on his back by your right side. Arms resting under his head, eyes closed, but here and there he’d peek at your and Richie’s constant bickering. You, laying on your stomach in between them, were still in your swimsuit from earlier. After lunch, it was Richie’s idea to go to this lake nearby by his parents' vacation house. It was also Richie’s idea to spend spring break there. Usually, your break trips would include their other friends, who ended up being your friends too over time, but that was being a harsh semester for quite everyone. With Bill and Stan stuck with their academic duties, the best idea was to drive to the Tozier’s vacation house in a small town in Pennsylvania. It was a simple, untouched, two-floor house. Richie told in the car his parents bought it when he was a teenager so they could travel and spend some time there, but ended up not doing that as much as they intended on once it was too far from his city. “For fuck’s sake, Richie!” Laughing was not what you intended, but you did it and you heard Eddie giggling behind you. Richie’s hand had finally made its way to your hips now, while he leaned closer. “Come on, toots. Just one kiss…” He whispered in his best charming tone, but you pushed him away, playing cool although you felt your cheeks burning, the known hots already hitting you like a truck. “No! Fuck off… I already told you we should stop doing this,” you muttered. “You always say that,” it was Eddie who reasoned, and you turned for him, eyes threatening him with no words while he shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m sticking to it,” you retorted. Indeed. It had been over a month since you last… Did what you did. “Plus I think Stan has been suspicious…” Richie snorted, “yeah, like lil old he would give a single fuck about it, y/n.” You breathed out, closing the book because now your concentration was ruined. Richie, Eddie, and you met at the creative writing class, 8 am on Tuesdays, your first semester of college. You remembered as it was today how you found them “lost” less than 10 feet away from the lecture hall but arguing like an old couple without realizing that. You helped them find the right way, and Richie flirted with you as you walked into the class, while Eddie scoffed at him for making them get lost and almost late. You knew those boys had been friends their entire life, but from that moment on the three of you became inseparable. If someone needed to find one of you on the campus, the other two would probably be found at the same place. The pureness of your friendship didn’t last long. It only lasted until the first party you went to together, when you lost to Richie at a snooker game and he claimed a kiss as his prize, the smooth motherfucker he was. You kissed him and only that, but ten minutes later you were making out in the bathroom. You made him swear he wouldn’t make things complicated between you two and he had been keeping his promise ever since. Eddie was a whole out of the curve story though. After what happened at said party, you noticed how fidgety he got about the matter of you and Richie been together once, although he did a great job hiding it. Took a while for him to leave it alone, but you didn’t. Something pestering inside wouldn’t let you. You were at his dorm, studying for a complicated final exam while the sky fell apart in rain outside when you asked him why he got upset. He denied to his death he had jealousy of you and Richie running through his veins, but you knew he was lying when his eyes started to avoid yours, saying ‘Richie’s a better ladies' man, anyway’. You shoot your shot without really thinking about it, told him ‘he was just as desirable as Richie’ and it seemed to light a spark between you two. You were the one who leaned closer but he closed the gap, nervously, pulling you into his lap as soon as you kissed him back, building up his confidence. Just like when Richie and you had your thing, you felt no need to hide from him what happened between you and Eddie. It was an embarrassing talk, but it worked. The three of you quickly and naturally warmed up to the facts: you were friends with benefits with both of them and there was nothing complicated about that for you. But you wanted to keep it low because casually making out with your best friends regularly here and there over time whenever you all desired to was none of people business. Eddie rolled over to lay on his stomach, just like you were, shoulder to shoulder. After a couple days constantly under the sun, you noticed he had more freckles than usual over his nose and cheeks, a few on his shoulders. “You’re being more uptight about it all than me, and everyone knows that being more uptight than me is a big deal...” His self depreciative statement made you flash a half-smile, but didn't stop you from leering at his soft lips because you remembered how he tasted like mint whenever you’d kiss. And it had been a long time since you did for the last time. “I’m just being cautious, Spagheddie.” He smiled at the silly nickname, just when you freed yourself from Richie’s grip, grabbed your book and got up, leaving them on the grass while you walked towards the backdoor. “Where ya’ goin’?” Richie called, but you didn’t look back. “Taking a shower!” You shouted. ‘I fucking need to cool down,’ you thought to yourself. In your silly head, about a year ago, this whole situation was a great idea. Now you found yourself utterly screwed. There was pining going on since the very first beginning in between you and them. You always knew it was there, you just didn’t expect it to escalate like it did. You thought once you had tasted from Richie and Eddie, you’d be done. Checked them out of your possibilities, life goes on, but now you were bonded to them in a way you never intended on. You fell for them. For both of them. And that was making you act up. Since your high school years you understood you were an afraid-of-commitment kind of person. No big deal, no attachments, no pain, so you weren’t ready to fall for a single person alone. Falling for two at the same time made your brain short circuit. You had debated the matter with yourself multiple times before. Since you became aware of it happening, you weren’t able to choose between them, you didn’t even know someone was capable of splitting their feelings like that. Your only solution was to stop it somehow. You couldn’t just leave them completely, so you decided to break the colorful side of that mess of a friendship. It wasn’t easy because it was not just about physical bonds. They were everywhere around you. Eddie would buy you coffee on the test mornings he knew you were tired after studying the whole night and hand it to you kissing your forehead. Richie would always hold your hand, keep you close and protect you somehow, doing that thing where he’d distractedly run his thumb over your knuckles. You knew that maybe you were not just an arousal let-out for them too and that made things even worse. You ruminated the facts the whole time you were under the cold water upstairs, and when you came down later, all damp hair and sleep clothes, you found them both in the kitchen, struggling with dinner although it was just frozen lasagna for three. Beach Fossils played from Richie’s phone, open vodka bottle on the wood table in the middle of the small kitchen. Richie was the one who first noticed you there, smiling over his shoulder. “Gonna leave you watching Eds so he doesn’t implode the house while I take a shower, doll. Help the poor man.” he said, walking past by you and running upstairs. “You’re talking like you weren’t the one struggling to turn on the oven!” Eddie shouted at him. You laughed just like Richie did at distance, joining Eddie by the stove. “Do you want a hand there?” “Never mind,” he said, closing the oven door with a proud grin, “it will be ready in twenty, I guess.” “Talented boys you two are!” you scoffed. “Oh shut up!” He faked a disgusted face at you. Your eyes laid over the cherries you bought the day you arrived, placed in a fruit basket on the counter and, while Eddie sat down at the table you grabbed a glass, the vodka, and a handful of cherries. He didn’t ask you what you were doing, but your peripheral sight allowed you to know he was keeping full attention on you while you fumbled around. You mashed the fruits in the glass until they were a reddish pasta, collecting the seeds and pouring alcohol over what lasted in there. As you swayed everything together, you remembered drinking it once, but not quite where was it. You gulped it turning around to finally face Eddie, and he was splayed in a chair, a ghost of a smile on. “The hell you doin’?” he asked lowly and you shrugged. “I don’t know… But it worked.” He raised his brows, getting up and walking towards you. “Yeah? Is it good?” You hummed in response, feeling it burn down your throat. In the deep of your mind, watching Eddie coming closer and closer, you knew what was about to happen, but you didn’t act fast enough against it. “Let me taste it” And he did. Not from the cup but straight from your lips. Eddie leaned in and kissed you softly, an arm around your waist while his free hand went for the back of your neck. And you ease in melting into him was embarrassing, leaving the cup onto the sink as soon as he pressed you against it before the glass ended up shattered on the floor. His tongue slid over yours, hands going to grab your hips, lifting your shirt a bit in the process. You instantly wished he took it off, already built up after spending that time alone in the middle of nowhere and with that aching tension all over the place. You had sex with Richie twice already over time, one of them a bit drunkenly, the other completely sober and thirsty for it, but you had never done it with Eddie. And you wanted it bad. Been wanting for a long time now, since that fucking rainy day in his dorm. But you knew you couldn’t, not when you shouldn’t even be kissing him like that after managing to stick up to your chastity for over a month now. So your hands palmed his chest and gently pulled him away. “Holy fuck…” Richie’s whispered voice made both you and Eddie startle. He was right there, at the kitchen entrance with a towel around his waist, mouth agape looking at both of you and you had no idea of how much time was standing there now. But he for sure saw shit happening. “That was the fucking fastest shower ever,” Eddie said, so casually it disturbed you. “N-no… I just came back to grab my phone.” Richie muttered. You froze, having no idea of how to move or what to say now. Yes, they were pretty aware you messed around with both of them, but one never saw the other in the act. Never, nor even a peck, and now Richie just witnessed a goddamn show. You were ready to tell him how you were sorry because you had just denied him a kiss when you were sunbathing outside and you have been constantly denying him for weeks now, but he didn’t give you the chance. Richie grabbed his phone over the table and stopped the music. You had the hint that maybe he wasn’t upset once he had that little mischievous smirk of his while he made his way out of there and upstairs again. Of course you didn’t talk about the matter over dinner, but Richie acted like nothing happened and Eddie just followed the lead completely unbothered. You tried to go on as naturally as they did, but something about Richie’s furtive looks over you made you think he was definitely not cool about catching you and Eddie together in the kitchen. You just couldn’t tell if either he was jealous or whatever was that and it pinched you from the inside the rest of the night while you watched old TV shows reprising until it was past one in the morning. That was when Eddie started yawning and decided to go upstairs, to the room that’d be Richie’s formerly, kissing your forehead and smiling nonchalantly before shoving Richie’s shoulder. So it was Richie, you and silence in the living room lighten up by TV flashes here and there. He was already sleepy, laying on the couch he had been sleeping since he insisted on leaving his parents’ bedroom for you, claiming he'd be a terrible host if he had you or Eddie without a bed. You, curled in the armchair, hated unsolved matters and worse than that, you hated when said unsolved matters had to do with Richie because you knew how he internalized everything he felt if it was slightly messed up. So you went straight to the point to avoid any evasions from him. “Did you get jealous of me and Eddie?” You asked right away, eyeing at him from your safe place. He looked at you, dead in the eye, no single sign of emotion perpassing his face. “Not at all, sweet thing,” he said, shrugging. “Why would I be?” You didn’t explain it, because you knew he knew where you were trying to get at, so your raised eyebrow was enough. But Richie raised his back and you had to get up because the lack of words from him, the one who’d never shut up, was bothering you beyond belief. You walked over the couch, passing a leg over his, straddling the Tozier boy for his slight astonishment, his reddish lips curving in a half-smile. Richie also had freckles, darker and more numerous ones than Eddie’s, all over his nose and cheeks, some across the rest of his face and none on the rest of his body. When he sat up with you still in his lap, you could smell that cologne you didn’t know exactly which was, but that you loved. Loved how its scent would stay ghostly on your clothes after you made out in his truck like a mark of his, just like the hickeys he’d give you sometimes, on hidden places so only you could see them. “Don’t fucking play dumb with me,” you whispered now, “I’m sorry, okay?” Richie snorted. “I’m not lying to you, y/n/n. I’m definitely not mad at you nor at Eddie. You’re making up things in your pretty head, doll” His hands drifted up your thighs. “I miss you, that's true. But it doesn’t make me jealous of that hell of a scene I saw earlier.” You noticed how he swallowed dry. “So you trying to convince me you’re not utterly disgusted and hurt?” Richie snorted once more at your tease and the light air of his relieving a lot of pressure from your chest. “Far from that, y/n/n...” The way his voice slowed down and his eyes drifted away from yours to his restless fingers on your skin...You finally understood where the problem laid on. And you wouldn’t even need the light pink shade of his cheeks to assure that. “Oh God, you liked it…” You whispered in disbelief and Richie laughed, hands on your hips now, pulling you closer. “What if I did, doll?” He didn’t let you answer, lips on yours before you recovered from your shock. He kissed slowly and passionately, it was always like that, kisses that after a few seconds already got you wanting to rip his clothes off. He was warm against you, bare chest pressed against still clothed yours. As earlier with the Kaspbrak boy, you had the urge of pulling away from him for your own sake, but you couldn’t this time. Richie peppered kisses all the way from your mouth to your jawline, kissing the spot that got your underwear ruined every time, earning himself a low whimper from your lips. You felt dizzy. “Eds is my best friend, toots,” he whispered against your skin, “there’s no one I’d be more glad to let spend time with you, touch you...” His hands ran up your sides underneath your shirt and your nails dig into his shoulders. “Kiss you.” He sucked a hickey on the crook of your neck that finally had you moaning out loud. “Richie-” His name. You could feel him smiling at that. “Or have you.” “For fuck’s sake, Richie…” You knew how to read in between his lines and in his darkened eyes when he pulled away to look into yours, glasses off. You knew he couldn’t see you quite well, but you could see him. If Richie was implying what you thought he was… “I told you I’d never lie to you, and I’m sticking to it.” Richie didn’t smile this time. “And believe me when I say I wish Eddie had taken you right on that counter.” You were the one dry swallowing now, thoughts running a mile a second. “For you to watch?” You scoffed, trying to hide how flustered you were. Richie remained serious when he laid down again. His moves underneath you let you feel him hardened under you. “No. I’d for sure join.” You read him again, tried to find whatever proved you he was just teasing. But he wasn’t. And that left you speechless, made him smile, tapping your hips gently. “But go to bed, toots. We can talk about it any other day. When you're ready and the cat doesn’t get your tongue.”

[cocastyle]

The In-Between Chapter 9

Stranger Things x It Crossover

with some Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 5,340

Warning - none

A/N - I’m so sorry it’s taken so long for me to update :(( as some of you know, I had an allergic reaction recently and have been so sick and out of it that I wasn’t able to really write anything. and I didn’t want to just post something to post something so I had to wait until I was feeling better which turned out to be today. anyways, this chapter is back to the normal length I had started out with at the beginning of this series simply because I don’t want this series to end yet and the next chapter might be a little long because it is going to be action packed! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please leave me comments letting me know what you think so far!!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

T H E I N - B E T W E E N

Intro The Losers’ Club The Party Prologue 1 2

3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Epilogue

When Eleven opened her eyes she was met with nothingness. All around her was just the empty black void that usually surrounded her when she tried to use her powers, the ground below her covered with water that was invisible to the eye but still made the sloshing around sound when she moved.

She began to walk forward with no destination pinpointed in her head. All she had guiding her along was a feeling, a feeling that told her Y/N was close.

Eleven let the feeling guide her as she silently walked through the void, only ever breaking the silence to let out a small sigh of relief when something began to appear in the distance. She didn't know what had her doing it, but Eleven found herself breaking into a run, the thought of Y/N being so close even if it was only in her mind enough to move her along.

As she grew closer, she realized that the thing in the distance had been none other than Y/N herself, the young girl hugging her body and trying to make herself as small as possible as she quietly sobbed. Eleven felt her heart drop at the sight and she didn't hesitate to slide to her knees in front of the girl, the invisible water splashing up onto her jeans as she did so.

Y/N let out a small sob as she hid her face against her knees that she was hugging close to her chest. It was obvious she was hiding from the way she kept her cries to only above a whisper level and how she kept her body as small as possible.

Eleven didn't like thinking that Y/N was actually hiding from something and that she was no one near enough to help.

Eleven stared at her friend for a moment before whispering out, "Y/N?"

The girl tensed at that, her cries silencing as her body shook less. Y/N pulled her face away from her knees and let her eyes flicker around her before they landed on Eleven. A look of utter fear was on Y/N's face, but she still managed to whisper out, "El?"

Eleven felt the tears begin to fill her eyes as she looked at her friend, nodding her head almost eagerly as if to tell her that she was here. "We're coming for you," Eleven told her. "Me, Bill, the Party, and the rest of the Losers. We're all coming to save you."

"I don't want you guys getting hurt," Y/N whispered, the fright in her eyes ten times worse now that she was thinking about her friends coming after her.

"We're coming to get you," Eleven stared firmly, tears falling down her cheek. "You're going to be okay. Just wait a little longer."

"Please hurry," Y/N finally said, nodding slightly as she realized there was no way she could change her friends' minds. There was silence before Y/N perked up, almost as if she had heard a sound.

Y/N began to shake, her eyes flickering over to Eleven as her lip started to quiver. Y/N let out a soft sob and desperately reached out for Eleven as she whimpered out, "El."

Eleven didn't even hesitate to reach out for the girl, wanting nothing more than to be able to rip her friend away from the situation she was in. But just when their hands were about to touch, Y/N let out a scream and her image dissolved before Eleven's eyes.

Eleven's hand fell through the air and hit the ground. It was like everything hit her all at once and Eleven let out a scream, her whole body shaking as she desperately touched the area around her.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Eleven cried out, the water splashing everywhere as she tried to get her friend back. The tears were freely flowing now and she was sobbing as she grabbed at nothing.

She was woken awake at that moment and Eleven came back to reality with a loud gasp, the tears in her mind a real representation of how she looked now. She was hyperventilating and she desperately looked around, barely being able to focus on Wheeler or Max who were kneeling down before her.

Their lips were moving, but Eleven couldn't register what they said. All she could do was scream and cry out her friend's name as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

The sight of her was making everyone freak out except for Bill who had gone as white as a sheet, his eyes glossing over as she stared at Eleven helplessly. . .heartbrokenly.

Wheeler eventually just pulled Eleven close to his body, the hug he gave her secure enough that she began to calm down and was able to hold him back. It took her a couple of more minutes, but her screams quieted and she was left just softly crying as Wheeler held her.

Bill was the first to say something, finally breaking the silence with, "W-W-What happened? Is Y/N o-o-okay?"

Everyone looked to him, the desperation in his voice for needing Y/N to be okay enough to tug at their heartstrings. Eleven locked eyes with the boy and wiped at her tears as she whispered, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Steve asked a little aggressively, the thought of the girl being anything but okay not able to process in his mind.

"She. . .she disappeared," Eleven said, those words earning confused looks from everyone. "I saw her. She was hiding and she was scared. I told her that we were coming and then she screamed and disappeared."

Eleven began to cry again and a heavy silence fell among the group as they tried to think of what could've gotten her. Whether it was Pennywise or a demogorgon, neither would be good.

Bill clenched his jaw and looked to the ground before saying, "So she's alive and needs our help." Everyone looked to him, wondering if he wasn't quite understanding what Eleven had said.

But when they saw the tears in his eyes, they knew he had heard but didn't want to listen or believe anything other than Y/N was alive. And maybe they were the same way.

Richie nodded in agreement before clapping his hands to gain the attention of the others. He smirked at them, "Let's get to work, motherfuckers."

- - -

The Losers and the Party spent the rest of the evening preparing for their journey into the Upside Down. Having gone into the Well House late that evening, the groups were only able to get the necessary weapons they needed and plan out how to teach the other group to fight their enemy. So the next day all of the Losers had to come up with some excuse for not being able to go to school just to be able to get to Y/N's house.

Luckily Y/N's parents were still out of town, so they had no idea that their little girl was missing. As for the Losers' parents, they all believed that Richie had mono, Eddie was having a bad asthma day, Bill had strep, Beverly had bronchitis, Ben had a stomach bug, and that Mike was fighting a fever. So after their parents all left for work and the kids locked their doors, they climbed out their windows, got on their bikes, and pedaled towards Y/N's house.

They were there by nine and the game plan for the day was that the Losers would tell their story to the Party before teaching them how to fight off Pennywise before lunch. After lunch, the Party would then tell the Losers about their story before teaching them how to fight the Upside Down and the mindflayer.

That's how the Losers ended up telling everyone about what had happened to them two years ago, starting with the disappearance of Georgie Denbrough and ending with the pact they had made as they showed the others their hands.

"You guys were fifteen and decided to make your own blood oath?" Steve asked in shock. The Losers were silent as they stared at the boy before they nodded. "Well, shit. When I was fifteen, all Y/N and I did was make pinky promises."

That earned a small chuckle from the others, finally breaking some of the tension that had fallen on them since the previous night.

"So how do we defeat this thing?" Lucas asked, leaning back in his chair as he let his eyes flicker over the Losers.

"Do one of you have a secret power you aren't telling us about?" Will questioned, the look in his eyes almost hopeful as he wished for nothing more than it to be that easy. Then again, nothing ever was.

"Sadly, no," Stan muttered with a sigh.

"It feeds on fear," Beverly explained. "Two years ago, we were able to defeat It because we weren't afraid."

"So we just have to not be afraid?" Dustin asked.

"That's simple enough," Steve muttered with a shrug, not understanding why fighting this clown was so hard.

"You don't get it," Mike insisted as he shook his head. "It changes into your worst fears. It will take all of your willpower not to be afraid of what it shows you."

The Party all froze at that, their fears flashing through their head, before they all shuddered in sync. "How the hell are we going to be able to stop that stupid clown from scaring us if it changes into our worst nightmares?" Max asked.

"How did you guys do it?" Wheeler asked, his eyes flickering over the group before he stopped on Richie and gave him a questioning look.

"I just imagined your mom and I wasn't scared anymore," Richie said almost instantly before he grimaced. "Sorry, it's about instinct. But in all seriousness, you just have to think about what's most important in that moment. For us, that fucking clown was literally holding Bill hostage, so all we could think about was saving our friend and then getting the hell out of there."

"It had killed so many kids just like us that all we wanted was for it to end," Eddie agreed.

"I think we were more angry than anything. It had captured Beverly and then was threatening to kill Bill right then and there. We were mad," Ben added.

"You have to take your fear and then it into anger," Stan explained.

"Th-Th-Think of Y/N," Bill said, the mention of their friend's name making everyone tense. "Think of h-h-her and how she's b-b-being tortured down there. Th-Th-Think of how much you w-w-want to save her and h-h-how angry you are that th-th-they would even think of h-h-harming her."

The Party all nodded, completely understanding what Bill was telling them. Getting angry wouldn't be the hard part. Sure they were upset about what had happened, but they were pissed at the prospect of It or the Mindflayer touching and harming their friend.

"Don't let It g-g-gain control and w-w-winning this thing should b-b-be easy."

- - -

"Welcome to Dustin's Fool-Proof Five Steps to Defeating the Upside Down and Saving Your Friend seminar," Dustin announced as he stood before the Losers' Club with his hands clasped together. It was just after lunch and Dustin had insisted on everyone sitting down while he started the next session off.

The Party stood behind him and rolled their eyes gently while the Losers all stared at him in surprise. Richie glanced over at Eddie who was sitting beside him and gave him a look to which Eddie returned with a shrug before they turned their attention back to the boy before them.

"Let's begin with a crash course on everything you need to know about the Upside Down. It all began when Will over here went missing," Dustin began before he started rambling his way through the story, talking about how they had first met Eleven and Y/N had insisted they help her out and ending with the Fourth of July where they defeated the Mind Flayer and then Y/N moved.

Dustin clapped his hands and looked to the group before saying, "Any questions as of right now?" Eddie began to raise his hand, but Dustin ignored him and just smiled, "Great. Let's move onto the five steps, shall we?"

Eddie let his hand slowly fall while Richie chuckled beside him, which earned him a punch in the shoulder.

"Step one is knowing what you're dealing with, which I just told you so you're already partially there!" Dustin told them with a smile while Richie looked to Wheeler in disbelief. Wheeler just shrugged and Richie looked back to Dustin.

"Step Two is-"

"Okay, buddy. I think that's enough," Lucas said as he patted his friend's shoulder.

"But they haven't heard steps two, three, four, or five," Dustin complained.

Lucas just ignored the boy before gently pushing him aside. "What you guys need to know is that literally anything can be a weapon when it comes to fighting the Upside Down. I mean, we used shitty fireworks against the Mind Flayer! If we distract him long enough for Eleven to use her powers, then we will be golden," Lucas explained.

"But whatever we do, we have to be quiet. The Upside Down is the Mind Flayer's territory. We so much as slip up once and he will be on our tail as will all the other demogorgons and demodogs," Wheeler said.

"So basically we just need to protect Eleven and stay quiet so that the Mind Flayer can't sense us?" Stan asked.

"Pretty much," Steve replied with a small shrug as he messed with the nails on his bat.

"We have to make sure to close the gate," Will added. "If we don't close it, there's no telling what will happen. You guys said that It has been in our world before and we know that the Mind Flayer has been in our world too. If we don't close the gate and stop them from returning, then the two working together could be a lot worse than any of us will ever realize."

"Will's right. We get Y/N and get the hell out of there. As soon as everyone, and I mean everyone, is out, then I will close the gate and we should be home free after that," Eleven said.

"How are we going to know where to find her?" Ben asked.

"W-W-We won't. We will j-j-just have to look a-a-around," Bill explained.

"We're going to split up again?" Eddie questioned, his voice a little high in fright.

"No," Bill shook his head. "W-W-We can't. It's easier to st-st-stop us if we aren't t-t-together, so we have to stay i-i-in one big group if w-w-we want to save Y/N." There was a silence before Bill asked, "Anymore qu-qu-questions?"

Richie sighed, "I'm sure I'll have some later, but I'm good for now."

Bill smiled ever so slightly before glancing at the others. They all remained silent and Bill nodded before picking up the crowbar he was going to use as a weapon.

"Let's g-g-go get, Y/N."

- - -

When Y/N came to, the first thing she noticed was that she was still alive. How that was possible? She had no idea, but she was alive and that was all that mattered.

The next she noticed was the incredible amount of pain coming from her head, a head throb so intense that she must have hit it before she was knocked unconscious.

Then she remembered everything that had happened leading up to her waking up in a strange place. Y/N had been talking to Eleven who had been able to communicate with her with her powers before a demogorgon had found the young girl and snatched her away. Everything had gone black after that before Y/N had woken up in the situation she was in.

Lastly she realized just where she was—her school cafeteria.

Not a very frightening place for the young girl, but the decay of it all was still enough to make her shudder. The only really weird part about the cafeteria was the fact that she had not been in there before she passed out. In fact, she had been near the quarry, so how she ended up in her school cafeteria without becoming a demogorgon's lunch was beyond her.

There didn't seem to be any demogorgons in sight and Pennywise was no where near by, so Y/N slowly got up from where she had woken up in the floor before she began to walk around, her eyes darting all around her as she carefully surveyed the area.

Ever since she got trapped in the Upside Down, It and the Mind Flayer had been toying with her, messing with her mind and her fear just for pure entertainment. Y/N wanted nothing more than for it to end.

Just then the door to the cafeteria burst open, the old doors swinging open so fast that they fell off once they hit the wall.

Y/N jumped in surprise before quickly turning to state at the doorway, freezing once she realized what was standing before her.

Her crush and best friend Bill Denbrough.

Y/N froze in her tracks at the sight of the boy before her bottom lip began to quiver. "Bill?" she whispered in disbelief, her eyes drinking in his appearance as he stood before her in the jacket she had recently started wearing.

Her eyes had filled with tears and her breathing was a little erratic as she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't even think twice before beginning to run towards the boy, wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around her and help get her out of there.

However, to her surprise, Bill's eyes widened at the sight of her and he turned before bolting away.

This action caused Y/N to slow down a bit before she furrowed her eyebrows and ran faster to catch up with the boy. "Bill?" Y/N called out as she ran out of the school, only to see the boy running towards the woods nearby.

Y/N's heart leapt into her throat at the thought of the demogorgons or It getting to the boy, so she broke out into a sprint, too focused on making sure that he was safe to wonder why he was running away from her in the first place.

"Bill!" Y/N continued to yell, the confusion and worry evident in her voice as she followed him through the woods.

She didn't know why, but it seemed like he was running at an inhuman like speed. Every time he disappeared from view, the moment he was in her line of sight again, his distance from her had doubled.

She didn't stop yelling for the boy until they had reached the familiar cliff that led down to the quarry, Bill having stopped just before the edge, an observation that made her heart beat erratically as worry coursed through her whole body.

"Bill?" she whispered almost hesitantly, her head tilting slightly as she stared at the boy ahead of him. "What's wrong? Are you okay? How did you get down here? Where are the others?"

The questions were falling from her mouth so quickly that she knew Bill wasn't able to process it fast enough, but she was just so nervous and so relieved that he was here that she couldn't control her own mouth.

Only when Bill turned around suddenly to look at her did she fall silent, his honey brown eyes licking with hers making her mouth fall open slightly at just how mesmerizing the boy was. Then again, he always was. She had always been able to just stare into his eyes forever, a small thing she would do whenever the boy was rambling to her about one of his favorite things all while she just watched him with a small smile on her face.

However, something seemed to be off with the way he was staring back at her. It wasn't like normal and was enough to make her flinch slightly from how harsh and cold it looked. It was like he was disgusted by her, the very look making her heart drop and her whole body grow ten times colder.

"Bill?" she whispered again, but the boy merely snarled in response before turning away.

"I-I-I was running away f-f-from you for a reason. C-C-Can't you take a hint?" he asked harshly, the words shocking Y/N to the point where she stumbled back slightly.

"I'm sorry. What?" she questioned, her voice as small as she felt.

"You h-h-heard me," Bill replied emotionlessly.

"I don't understand," Y/N muttered as Bill began to walk towards her, the look in his eyes making her instinctively take a step back. "Why would you-?"

"R-R-Run from you? What? W-W-Were you expecting me t-t-to embrace you with open arms? D-D-Declare my undying love f-f-for you?" Bill asked, the last question making him laugh so hard that Y/N felt her heart break.

Y/N's eyes began to water and she swallowed thickly. "N-No. . .I just thought you were here to save me," she whispered, still confused about where this attitude towards her was coming from.

"W-W-What? You think I c-c-care about you enough to s-s-save you? That I maybe l-l-love you? I could n-n-never love you, Y/N. I mean, ha-ha-have you seen yourself? I'm b-b-better off with s-s-someone like Beverly th-th-than you.

"You. . .you don't mean that," Y/N whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she backed up, not realizing that Bill had circled her so that she now had her back to the cliff of the quarry and was beginning to walk towards the edge.

"I'm g-g-glad you're stuck down here. Ev-Ev-Everyone is actually. W-W-Why do you think it's t-t-taken so long for even m-m-me to show up down here?" Bill questioned, ignoring her previous words.

"If you're happy, then why are you here?" Y/N asked, a few tears escaping her eyes as she struggled to keep it together. Her body was shaking at this point and Bill seemed to notice from the cold and amused laugh he sent her way.

"Oh, Y/N, f-f-for one reason and one r-r-reason only," Bill replied, stopping short and causing Y/N to stop walking as well. She didn't seem to notice that she was on the edge of the cliff now, one more step meaning she would plunge over the side. Bill smirked at her, sending shivers down her spine.

"To m-m-make sure they finish the j-j-job."

Then, before Y/N could even process what was happening, Bill had reached out and shoved her, the action causing her to fall back and over the cliff.

It was like everything was happening in slow motion as she began to fall. Her hand flew out, desperately trying to reach Bill as she fell back. The air was filled with her scream as the stomach dropping feeling of falling hit her all at once.

And all she could see was Bill staring at her from the cliff, a smile on his face as he watched her fall into the murky water below.

Y/N hit the water with a loud splash, the force of it all knocking the breath from her lungs and causing her to gasp and inhale the disgusting water that surrounded her.

All she could see was black as she tried to claw her way out of the murky water. It took a minute but she finally broke the surface, a loud gasp escaping her lips as she wiped the goo from her face and coughed to expel the liquid from her lungs.

Laughter could be heard and the sound of Bill's laughter hit her so hard that she shook from fright and begin to cry. She didn't understand what was happening, but something like this had always been one of her biggest fears.

Bill leaving her was one of her biggest fears.

Y/N finally brought herself to look up at the cliff and she let out a gasp and fell back in the water a little once she saw that Bill had been replaced by Pennywise, the laughter in the air being nothing but a mockery of the laughter of the boy she cared about.

She wanted to be relieved that Bill hadn't been the one to do those things, but it was like the fear in her body only increased tenfold once she had realized it was Pennywise.

Y/N was crying harder now and she turned and quickly began to try and swim out of the water. However, she hadn't gotten far before the laughter suddenly stopped. Y/N froze and looked back over her shoulder to find that the cliff was now empty. Pennywise no where to be seen.

Y/N's breathing was erratic at this point as she frantically looked around her, but she froze instantly once she heard what sounded like a groan coming from the murky water. The girl slowly turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of a hand covered in decay and the goo of the water shooting out from the surface.

Another hand soon followed and before Y/N knew what was happening people were starting to break the surface of the water, their attention on her. Y/N let out a gasp once she realized they were all messed up versions of her friends, each of them looking like zombies as they groaned and began to swim near her.

Y/N let out a cry of horror before turning and swimming as fast as she could. She was almost to the shore when a hand grabbed onto her leg, nails as sharp as knives digging into her calf and making her cry out in pain.

Y/N looked behind her and screamed once she came face to face with a rotted version of Will, bugs crawling out from his mouth as he yelled at her. Another hand grabbed onto her arm before another one grabbed her other leg. In a matter of seconds, a rotted version of Will, Dustin, Ben, and Mike were trying to drag her under the water, their hands clawing at her and scratching her so bad that she began to bleed.

She was full on sobbing and screaming at this point and she desperately kicked and pulled away from the boys as she watched the other rotted versions of her friends swim closer to her. Somehow she managed to kick rotted Ben in the face, the action shoving the boy back into Dustin so that they both had to let go of her.

Y/N took the chance to yank her arm away from Mike and kicked Will in the stomach before she desperately turned and lunged for the shore. Hands tried to grab at her, but they did nothing more than scratch her before she pulled herself out of the water and away from their grasps.

Y/N scrambled onto her feet before breaking out into a sprint, ignoring the pain in her legs as blood trickled from her wounds. She managed to look back once to see It standing solely in the water before she turned back around and entered the woods once again.

The young girl didn't know where she was going as she ran, only ever thinking about how she had to get out of there while tears streamed down her face. She was just about to turn when a demogorgon jumped out from behind a tree, a scream escaping the girl's lips while the eerie sound of the demogorgon filled the air.

She turned to run the other way, but another demogorgon appeared, its face opening up like a flower like the other's as its whole body shook from the sound it produced.

Before Y/N knew it, she was surrounded by demogorgons, the creatures circling her so that she had no where to go.

Y/N had never felt as helpless as she did in that moment, the creatures in her nightmares stalking around her like she was their next meal, which maybe she was.

A helpless sob fell from the girl's mouth as she hugged her body. She shook her head and whispered, "Please, no. God, please, no."

As if hearing her words, the demogorgons suddenly stopped and stood straight up, doing nothing more than blocking her from escaping. This didn't change Y/N's demeanor at all and another sob shook her body.

But then Pennywise was walking out from behind the demogorgons and into the circle they had created, causing the girl to scream and take a step back. The demogorgon behind her didn't like this and growled so that Y/N jumped forward to the middle.

The interaction made Pennywise laugh and he hopped from foot to foot before he was suddenly right in front of the girl, his face inches from hers as his dirty nails dug into her face. His eyes flickered over her and he grinned before whispering, "Tasty, beautiful fear."

Y/N couldn't help but be afraid as she stood there, another soft cry falling from her lips as more tears escaped. "Why?" she managed to whisper. "Why me?"

"Cause you're important," Pennywise replied almost immediately. "You fall and so do the others."

"Please don't," Y/N whispered as she struggled against the clown's grasp. Her pleading cries doing nothing but make the clown smile more. "Please."

Pennywise grinned evilly, drool beginning to fall from his mouth as he stared at the girl. "Hungry," It merely said, the demogorgons making sounds that almost sounded like they were agreeing with the clown.

It's mouth opened slightly and Y/N quickly closed her eyes as a whimper left her lips. She had never felt so weak and helpless in her life, but it was like all of her courage had been sucked out of her after having seen Bill push her off a cliff and her rotted friends trying to drown her.

When death didn't come, Y/N opened her eyes and locked on It who was staring behind him blankly as if he was sensing something that she couldn't.

The clown frowned before looking back to Y/N in what looked like frustration. He took a finger and drug it down her face, his nail drawing blood and causing the girl to wince in pain.

"I'll save you for later."

Then, before Y/N could question what exactly he meant and what he was going to do with her, his mouth began to open up. Y/N's eyes widened and she desperately tugged against the clown's grasp until It put both of its hands around her neck to hold her in place.

It was going to fucking eat her. It was going to fucking eat her.

A light suddenly seemed to come from the clown's mouth and Y/N tried to look away, but It held her so that she was forced to look into its mouth. Y/N felt herself relax almost instantly at the sight before her, her body going limp although her mind was screaming at her to fight.

The last thing she saw was three bright balls of light before everything went black.

* * *

Tag List

@marvelismylifffe @witch-of-all-things-soft @nightbu-g @vickeystar @daniellajocelyn @alexthe80swhore @ren-ni @floralpiper @starshininginthedark @aimee-lucass @dwcljh @sycard @connor---murphy @tinycolorwhispers @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash @theamandarenee @amberkay284 @gryffingirl @dejewskoo @artlovingbre @jacinta-lexianne @gabiatthedisco @littlemaeve @newhopenessie @pheonix-nin @captn-sprkl-fngrs @madelinelikesfics @mysteryartisticwriter @that-one-book-girl @spnsquirrel @galaxsea-707 @felicia-can-fly @whoops-im-gay-now @hollandcomics @lauren-theicecreamslinger @peterhollandd @princessserena23 @you-s-suckbowers @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch @deviantly-gayy @pastel-rose-water @gothackedalready @fandoms-all-around-catiel @c00ln3rdz @fraeppuccino @80sthottie @hawkxyes @milk-n-cheese @mileven-reddie

[chyrstis]

I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 1/10

I’ve held out for a while now, thinking it’d be silly to post this here after finishing edits to this on AO3 back in February (and having an older version of this already up at the FC5 Holiday Exchange), but I think the only thing that was being silly was me. Because extra edits were badly needed, I’d love to add this to my FC5 masterlist, and to anyone that read the original and powered through the whole thing in one go back in December? Kudos to you, because it was always meant to be posted chapter by chapter here instead.

So, without further adieu, here’s Ch. 1 of 10 of the romantic comedy I didn’t plan on writing for them, but am very glad I did. ...Just with 100% more accidental arson and singing fish involved.

And also, many, many thanks to @finefeatheredgamer​ for being the lovely person to prompt this over at the Exchange to begin with. <3

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 4.1K 

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

---

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

-----------

Hurk was his bro. His blood. One hell of a stand up guy, and the person Sharky knew would have his back no matter what.

The one he could depend on no matter what for damn near anything, and the only one right now that he could say to, with his whole heart, “I love you, man, but you can piss up a fucking rope” for getting him into his mess to begin with.

And okay, maybe he was being a bit harsh about it. And maybe he’d wanted the excuse to do it to begin with, but Hurk had dangled the opportunity so perfectly in front of him. Framed it so beautifully, there was no way he was going to say no to it, no matter what.

Especially not with both drinks and two smoking hot women involved. He’d hit a real dry spell, and the temptation to get lucky hit hard.

So, when beers at the Spread Eagle turned into beers down by the river, Sharky had agreed immediately. And when beers at the river turned into the possibility of beers on the river, he’d agreed to that too.

But he didn’t have a boat. Hurk didn’t either.

Maybe they could’ve winged it by borrowing one from the Marina. They would’ve been skinned alive the next morning after his aunt found out about it, but after mulling it over for a few, Hurk had a better idea.

In his words, a better, sexier idea. 'Cause nothing said sexy like a little speedboat ride and some roguish repatriation. Also Hurk’s words, though Sharky was sure on some level that wasn’t supposed to be pronounced like that either.

John had a boat.

John Seed had both a boat and a boathouse. Rich assholes like that always wanted to flash their cash in the most high-profile ways possible, and for whatever reason having his own personal goddamn plane wasn’t enough. He had to have a boat too.

Surely he wouldn’t miss it for a night. And Hurk’s promise to slip him two-hundred bucks on top of that? Really just made the idea all the sweeter.

Things sped up after that. Blurred and blended into the kinds of things he’d see in an action movie, what with him being the sexy hero going behind enemy lines as a means of infiltrating it – and he’d even streaked some mud across his face to seal it.

But somewhere between snagging the fancy speedboat, riding it out, and getting not one but two kisses of gratitude, he’d let himself get sloppy. And on the way back afterwards, with more beers under his belt, and a decent hard on from some over the clothes action, he’d misjudged a few things.

Not the least of which involved just how close of a fit it was to park and settle the boat. It was a square peg meant for a square hole, but he couldn’t see it that way. Not right now, especially not while belting out words to what he’d think a collab between ABBA and the Bee Gees would sound like.

That’s where things blurred again. Grew unclear and muddied as he tried to keep the boat steady. His head pounded as he misjudged the distance - or was it speed? Both were likely - of his approach, as he leapt into action again, this time wondering if his call to Willis his way out was the right one.

Cold water rushed up to meet him, knocking sense into him just long enough to start paddling, but he bobbed down low. Felt things go black, as like an idiot he gulped down a lung and a half full of water as he fought against it.

That’s when he felt hands grab him. A force dragging him up and out of the cold only for the ground to rush up and smack him in the face.

Hacking it out, he blinked down at the pebbles underneath his hands, his face all but numb at this point as water continued to dribble out of his mouth. That had been close. All too close, he’d realized, still sloshed, but aware enough of the person crouching next to him.

So, he babbled out what he hoped was thanks. Followed it up with more thanks after that, and when he flipped over to maybe even throw a hug or a hearty handshake their way, he froze.

Because he wasn’t ready for the kind of cold fury waiting for him. He also wasn’t ready for John Seed to be the one wearing it either; the kind that he was sure meant he was about to be murdered on the spot.

In that moment, not even two-hundred dollars richer for it, he knew he’d fucked up, but as to how much? He couldn’t say. That was for the morning to tell him, provided he’d make it there.

And right now his odds weren’t looking all that great.

---

Pounding. Endless pounding went off, shaking him out of the comfortable space he’d settled into.

The sound echoed again, making him shift around to muffle it. Pulling the blanket around him, he sighed at the silence only to tense when it was broken again.

“Motherfucking balls, man,” Sharky groaned.

So, he wasn’t dead, just felt like it. That he wasn’t, was a relief as he pried his eyes open. The pulsing, pounding pressure building in his head, not so much. Crawling over to the bed’s edge, he pushed himself up and nearly tumbled to the floor.

Knocking. That’s what the sound was.

Leaving his room, he dragged his feet as he walked over to the door, and jumped when his foot came into contact with something ice cold. Not bothering to check, he shook it off, swearing loudly only to notice it was a pair of jeans. Damp, and just as wet as the hoodie draped over the kitchen table.

When had he- Pointing at it, then at the jeans, he scratched at his head as he stood in the kitchen. Skinny dipping gone wrong, maybe? Gone right? He’d have company if that were the case, but it didn’t stop him from hoping.

He raised an eyebrow, only to start when the knocking began again. “Hold your fucking horses! Seriously, I’m coming.”

Dragging on a nearby pair of pants, he popped his head up in front of the peephole and took a look.

It was John.

John Seed.

That couldn’t have been right. He rubbed at his eyes and peered through again. “The fuck?”

Nope, John was still there, arms crossed as he waited, and he checked his watch before going for the door. Knocking with a heavy hand, the door was almost rattling, and Sharky stepped back.

Something was up. Something that he couldn’t remember right off the bat, and if it put John of all people on his doorstep, it had to be serious.

But he hadn’t pissed off anyone bad enough to put a lawyer on his porch. Or had he? Maybe the F.A.N.G. Center was finally sick of taking his calls and decided to slap him for it. Or hell, his Moonflower disco party never had that many admirers. That could’ve gone south too.

Not remembering sucked, but it was a Tuesday. Probably found a way to piss off somebody in the county without even trying that much.

Yanking the door open, he regarded the man waiting on the other side with a bleary look. It was bright outside, the clear blue of the sky hurting his eyes as he blinked against it, and felt his headache start to pulse as he narrowed his eyes into a squint.

“Charlemagne Victor Boshaw.” The smile John wore was cold as he stared him down. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

He scratched his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he waited for John to continue. When he didn’t, and was actually seeming to want some kind of feedback from him, he grunted out a short, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Well, I was afraid of that. Considering how impaired you were late last night, and considering the great lengths I had to go to keep you from drowning on my property, it seems it’s up to me to enlighten you on what exactly happened.”

Drowning?

He did remember water. Coughing out enough to make him feel a little sick on recalling it. The part before that, when he was whooping it up, and kissing the hell out of his date, was a lot nicer to focus on, and he let his eyes slip shut as he leaned against the doorframe.

Yeah, that was much better. Better than the light searing into his eyes, and better than the asshole camped out on his doorstep.

“Boshaw.”

He cracked open an eye. Squinted right at John’s pinched, irritated face, and considered closing the door on him. “What?”

“You don’t understand the true extent of any of this, do you?”

“Nah, that’s what the whole enlightening thing’s for. Shit, Johnson, where the hell have you been?” he threw out, hating how the pounding in his head was only intensifying. “So if you could get the hell on with it, I could go back to spending my day how I want to. In bed, curled up and doing nothing, not out here listening to you tell me how I…” Sharky let the words trail off. “How I what now?”

“How you owe me,” John hissed, baring his teeth as the temperature in his tone dropped ten degrees and counting. “You. Owe. Me. For a boat. For a boathouse, and for an assortment of damages all tying back to your little alcohol-soaked ride through my property.”

Saying each word through clenched teeth, John paused, drew in a breath through his nose as he closed his eyes, then settled back into the same smile he’d initially greeted him with.

“Then when caught, you panicked, confessed, and forged an agreement with me to fix it. Is that ringing any bells now?”

-

“Look, look, look, I get it. This looks bad, right?” Sharky held up his hands, still coughing out leftover traces of water, and tried backing away from him. “Just let me say my piece, okay? Let me say it, and get it out there, and we can go back to-“

“Back to what?” John asked, his voice smooth as he stayed on him. “Back to the smoke? The fire? The wreck I bothered to drag you out of?”

“Yeah, yeah, all of that.”

“Oh, good. Because I’m still waiting. Still wondering why of all things, you haven’t given me a single reason at all not to do what anyone else would’ve already done in my position. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Tell me.”

“I, uh, I don’t know about-“

He snarled as he crossed the distance between them. “Tell me!”

-

Sharky paled.

Some of it was coming back in batches, none of it painting a good picture at all. And the longer he focused in on that period of time, the more he felt inclined to drop everything and book it towards the woods. At least then he’d have some kind of a fighting chance. John didn’t look like a runner, but if he did head after him he’d make sure to wing him with a branch or two along the way.

He wet his lips, and let out a long breath. “Okay, so say I did.”

“You did.”

“Okay, so…say I did all of it.”

“You did!” John repeated, his voice rising. “How can I make this any clearer to you? We are here to talk recompense. What you rightfully owe me for, and more importantly, what you’ve promised given the alternative. Or should I repeat myself, yet again, but this time using language that you’re guaranteed to understand?”

Now, Sharky had tried to ignore it before. Maybe even give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’d put up with his fair share of people talking down to him like an idiot, and like hell was John going to get in a shot as well.

“Yo, I was trying to be civil here. Civil and about as respectful as I can get seeing as I’m here, wearing actual pants, and listening to you spouting nothing but shit at me. And I get it! Something was broken that shouldn’t have been taken to begin with, but you’re talking deals that I don’t remember agreeing to, and I don’t like being told I’m a fucking moron on top of that!”

“Fine.” John pursed his lips, losing some of his anger, but not all of it. “You’ve made your point, and…maybe I did speak out of line.”

”You did. No maybes there, dude.”

“But that still doesn’t settle any of the business between us. So, here’s my offer. What I outlined to you last night, and to which you enthusiastically agreed to.”

Sharky bit back the knee-jerk response that he wanted to give, and crossed his arms. “So? Spit it out.”

“You will repair it. Rebuild the damaged boathouse with materials I will supply you with, and under my supervision. This will ensure that the work will be completed, done to my standards and specifications, and to also ensure no further damage will be done.”

“Your standards?”

“That’s correct,” John said, with a glint in his eye. “If it’s not to the quality I ask for, you will tear it down and start over. From scratch.”

“Hey, now. You back it the fuck up, 'cause last time I checked you’re not the fucking boss of me.”

“On the contrary. Yes, I am,” John replied, holding up his cell phone. “And If you don’t want any of this getting back to the local authorities, you will take this deal. Now listen closely, because there will be no second offer, and I’m already being generous.”

Keeping as calm as he possibly could, the voice on the phone outlined this in painstaking detail. Too much detail for a drunk man to take in and consider, but just enough for it to be played back to him while sober.

Including the last detail. One that had John’s expression settle into that of pure satisfaction.

“And you agree to do this? To-“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll do it. Whatever you want, building this shit up, building another big-ass boat to cart both you and your bullshit to fucking Aruba, I’ll do it. Just don’t send me to jail, man. Me and the po-po just don’t mix, and…shit, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything,” John repeated, ending the recording. “And looking at the damages done, the cost to avoid a sentence can be upwards of fifty-thousand dollars. That’s no small fee to have to shoulder, and unless you have that to give me, I think you’re better off taking this.”

He was fucked. Fucked beyond question, all because he’d had the piss-poor sense to believe Hurk’s boast that Sharky could commit Grand Theft Boat while sloshed just past his maximum.

Leading to the current dilemma.

Not wanting to go to jail was always at the top of his list. So was having the ability to light shit on fire. Going to jail interfered with both of those things directly, and as much as he could fight or run from it, John had two big things going for him.

One, he was a lawyer.

Two, he had money.

If he wanted to sink him, he’d send him straight down to the bottom of the ocean’s largest, deepest trench without any hesitation.

Clenching his teeth, then unclenching them, the smile he gave him was more of a grimace. “Uh, so…about that whole helping shit.”

“Let’s establish some ground rules, shall we?”

John raised his chin as he gestured towards the door, and Sharky groaned. Stepping to the side to let him in, John stalked on past, and he nearly fell off the front step.

He was going to need a cigarette.

Lots of them.

---

“This should be simple. Straightforward,” John told him as Sharky sat across from him with a cigarette and a roaring headache.

He was to be on the property two times a week.

Each time he would text him in advance making sure that John was available first, then once the time was agreed on, would expect him there promptly.

No work would be done alone. He would pick John up, then take him down to the boathouse to supervise. From there, he would work – some bare minimum that John rattled off, and he half-tuned out – and would drive John back up before heading out for the day.

And then would repeat it again, and again, and again until John was satisfied.

“So, as I said, simple. Easy enough for anyone to follow,” John stated, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

Already on cigarette number two, Sharky let his head sink into his hand. Passed on enough of a response to satisfy John for now, and had to agree to an actual starting date to even get him out of the door.

He was on cigarette number five when he called up Hurk. Spent a good ten minutes trying to get some kind of answers out of him about the rest of the night while also yelling about the shit he’d royally stepped in by messing with John to begin with.

But Hurk talked him down. Helped him to see this for what it was.

One, not a jail sentence. He could still get out of this, even if it looked like John had all but boxed him into doing a shit-ton of labor for free.

Two, he’d done enough odd jobs to be able to swing this. Had built and burnt down a million sheds in his lifetime, so what was building another one going to hurt?

And three, if all else failed, Hurk was set and ready to see about lighting up another part of John’s place just to give him a means of escape. What was a bro if not the kind ready to throw himself into the line of danger so his cousin could exit stage left?

He could give him that. Even if more fire wasn’t the solution to the problem for once. Much as he needed it, and loved it, it wasn’t going to get him out of this.

Sighing heavily, he let Hurk go and went back to bed.

The next day, however, he pulled his shit together and readied himself for what was going to be the beginning of a very long and painful process.

John’s specific list of guidelines chafed bad, like a pair of jeans that were just the wrong side of too tight, but he couldn’t take them off or return them. He just had to deal, and hope that sitting down or bending over wouldn’t lead to the kind of blowout he’d get run out or yelled at over.

So, he played by the rules. Hated every second of it as he jabbed at his phone and gave John the shortest messages he could manage. Then picked him up and tried to grin and bear it as John tapped at his watch while giving his ride the hairy eyeball, and Sharky proceeded to take them both down to the boathouse.

Seeing it during the day painted the whole thing in a different light. From what he’d relayed to Hurk in a delirious call the night of the accident there had been a whole hell of a lot of smoke and fire. Boatloads - pun intended - as he took in the charred shell of the building.

Guess that extra fuel Hurk told him he’d jacked but didn’t toss did more harm than good. Who knew what he’d planned on using it for, but he was lucky he hadn’t been toast himself.

That did mean his work was cut out for him, however. Tearing the whole thing down and rebuilding it was going to be a pain, and John guided him over to the picnic table nearby to go over the blueprints he’d brought from his house.

Spread out, he followed the dimensions outlined, and where he would need to start once the foundation was set. Saw it broken down into smaller pieces, smaller sections, and having it all stripped down like this helped him see it for what it was. Doable, and not even half as complicated as he thought it’d be. Yeah, it was going to be intense, but wouldn’t be impossible.

Now, his version of things allowed for some leeway. That would help to speed things up along the way, but that was where John came in. He said that there would be no ‘cutting corners’ and ‘eyeballing it’ like he was sure Sharky might do.

“This requires care. Precision. Delicacy.”

John kept on going, rattling off a few more things he was in need of here, and Sharky barely held off from pretending to jerk off in the middle of it. But John eventually cut him loose, telling him to get a feel for the area, and pointed him towards the boathouse.

It had been calling to him, in a way, and he let curiosity finally guide him there.

Walking inside, Sharky let out a low whistle.

He’d done a real number on it. Sidestepping the remains of the support beam overhead, he peeked up at the blue sky above him, and took in the blackened wood and ruined equipment. Trying to play guess who with the burned odds and ends was looking to be a game for another day, but while some parts of the building were well past trashed, other items were surprisingly okay.

Like the photographs hanging on the walls.

Both focused on nature – and he liked nature shit; skulls, antlers, pictures, the whole nine yards – but the fish on display didn’t look like they’d been caught. Not by John, or by any of his family, and they felt more out of place than anything else.

At least that’s what he thought until he turned, and saw it. Saw the big, beautiful, borderline majestic fish hanging on the wall, and burst out laughing.

He was still laughing when John finally joined him. “What could be so-“ John’s voice trailed off, and the resigned groan that followed only made him laugh harder.

Swiping at his eyes to wipe the tears away, Sharky framed the singing fish with his hands. “Big Mouth Billy is hanging right on your wall. Here. On your wall.”

“And?”

“And? Dude, that’s like the best shit ever! I haven’t seen one of these since I was like, this tall,” Sharky said, holding his hand to his knee. “Like, I thought they’d stopped selling them.”

“They should’ve.”

“But they didn’t, and that’s pretty damn great if I may say so myself. You’ve gotta tell me who gave you this to begin with. Broseph?”

John sighed, his mouth twisting as he remained silent.

“Ol’ Jake-n-bake then? Dude’s pretty serious, but maybe he gave you this to be nice. Or funny. Shit, maybe both.”

“You had it right the first time,” he admitted, eyeing first him, then it with distaste.

Joseph Seed’s doing? The thought of that made a wide grin break out on his face. “Well, shit. Guess I need to thank him then. Otherwise, I think it’d get pretty lonely out here.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re not gonna sit there and talk my ear off the whole time, so I was thinking I’d need to start talking to myself just to make shit interesting, but Bill here’ll be a fucking hoot once you get him started.”

The offended look that crossed John’s face shifted straight to horror when Sharky waved his hand in front of the fish’s sensor. To his delight, it sprang to life, singing enthusiastically, and when Sharky joined in, John visibly clenched his teeth.

“Still works too! Come on, it’s catchy.”

Picking up on the tune only to mangle it further, John kept on staring at him the entire time. Through one full cycle of it as Sharky snapped his fingers, through a few of his claps, and through at least one hop.

Still, nothing. “Seriously? Feeling none of the magic of that little guy?” Sharky shook his head, giving him a disappointed glance. “Shit, better go one more round to be sure. Maybe that’ll help, and you can join in whenever you like.”

John turned on his heel and promptly left.

Eyeing the bass, he gave one of its fins a small fistbump, only to nearly knock it off of the wall.

Maybe he’d be able to get through this after all.

[extreme-technicality]

does talking to an anon help about ninjago help? cuz I'm down

DHDKCKGSC YES IT DOES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OFFERING YOUR SERVICES

Okay now that I know I won’t be clogging people’s dashes buckle the fuck in my dude and I should stress that I literally would not be talking about this as much as I will be if I didn’t genuinely enjoy the show. I’m gonna go season by season and just Rant

S1 has the serpentine as the bbeg and like, as far as villains go they’re p lit. They’re early enough that they haven’t been done to hell, things are fresh, the characters and dynamics are being fleshed out, and all in all s1 is a pretty solid season. There’s some fuckery that gets brought up re: how the FUCK aging works and what the actual timeline of Ninjago is and how Wu and Garmadon fit into that timeline, fuckery that LITERALLY NEVER GETS RESOLVED IN A SATISFYING WAY BC ITS REVEALED IN A LATER SEASON (s8, dw we’ll get there lmao) THAT THE ONLY REASON THE FIRST SPINJITSU MASTER, WU, AND GARMADON LIVED AS LONG AS THEY DID IS CUZ THEYRE BASICALLY DEMIGODS AND ITS IMPLIED THAT LLOYD WILL ALSO LIVE FOR A LONG ASS TIME WHICH MEANS ONE DAY HES GONNA OUTLIVE ALL HIS FRIENDS AND EVERYONE HE EVER LOVED WHICH IS A FUN THING TO THINK ABOUT AT NIGHT But anyway I digress, s1 also coincidentally introduces Lloyd (he wasn’t in the pilot episodes that set up the rest of the series) and the existence of Evil Dad Garmadon.

S2 is where Garmadon starts acting a lot more Evil and a lot less Dad. He’s the main antagonist for that season, and I actually read somewhere that the show was originally slated to end after s2 which high key explains the fuckery of literally every single season after this lmaooooo. Much like s1, I really can’t find much to complain about, the first two seasons are pretty decent as far as I can remember

Season. Fucking. Three. Where the fuck do I start??? I hate season three for entirely personal reasons revolving around the STUPID GODDAMN ROMANCE WRITING. okay lemme back up and explain a thing first so, Jay is dating Nya and they’re fine, they’re going steady, aND THEN????? THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON INTRODUCES BULLSHIT LOVE TRIANGLE FUCKERY FOR ZERO GODDAMN REASON, BITCH I HATE LOVE TRIANGLES AND I HATE THEM EVEN MORE WHEN THEYRE DONE FOR NO GODDAMN REASON!!! AND THEN. AS IF THAT WERENT ENOUGH. THEY SHOEHORNED A ROBOT ROMANCE BETWEEN ZANE AND PIXAL AND I KNOW I RANTED ABOUT THIS A LITTLE BIT WHEN I WAS ACTUALLY WATCHING BUT I DIDNT GO INTO ENOUGH DETAIL!!!! THEY MADE THE OTHER NINJA OOC IN ORDER TO PROP UP THEIR SHIP!!!!!! AND AT ONE POINT ZANE GOES “its like we were…made for each other” AND I HAD TO FUCUCJDHVE I HAD TO SCREAM INTO A PILLOW BRO, IM SO TIRED!!!! NO THE FUCK YOU WERENT!!!!!! YOU WERE MADE FOR YOU AND PIXAL WAS MADE FOR PIXAL AND IF YALLS WANNA BANG BOLTS THATS FINE BUT DONT IMPLY THAT EITHER OF YOU WERE MADE INCOMPLETE!!!! THATS AN INSULT TO YOUR MAKERS AND YOURSELVES, MOVE ON, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. anyway that season also killed Zane (for the first time, but not the last) (spoiler alert lmao) and like, not to be an emotional little shit but I did cry a bit at his funeral.

S4 is honestly one of my favorites, even though the romance crimes continue (the love triangle bullshit is continuing and honestly I maintain that Cole, Nya, and Jay should all have gotten together and in my personal canon they DID, and also Kai has a forced romance) the VILLAIN makes up for it imo. He’s campy!! He’s funny!! He’s a clown!! He’s serious enough that if he says “I’m gonna kill you” HE MEANS IT and that’s so fucking refreshing!!!! S4 is honestly 8/10 just for the villain alone, don’t like that it retconned the SHIT out of the elemental masters and how many different elements there are TO master but eh, it’s ninjago, shit is stupid.

S5 was…interesting? OH WAIT I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT S3 INTRODUCED A GARMADON WHO WAS A LOT LESS EVIL AND A LOT MORE DAD, HONESTLY I THOUGHT IT TOOK A LOT OF THE FLAVOR OUT BUT THATS JUST ME LMAOOO. anyway s5 killed Garmadon, and I was a little sad cuz I like him okay??? I just think he’s NEAT, he’s got big dad energy, he was teaching Lloyd some shit that just got DROPPED and literally was never brought up again which is honestly a theme in Ninjago. Ninjago drinking game: take a shot every time they introduce a plot point or ability and drop it at or before the end of the season. WHICH THEY ALSO DID IN S5 WITH A DIFFERENT POWER ACTUALLY, so all the ninja are masters of Spinjitsu right, well s5 introduced the concept of Airjitsu which only Spinjitsu masters can learn and it lets them FLY and they used that for seasons 5 and 6 and then they nEVER BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN EVEN THOUGH IT WOULDVE COME IN HANDY FOR S E V E R A L DIFFERENT SITUATIONS ACROSS THE SEASONS, ONE OF THEM WOULD BE FALLING TO THEIR DOOM AND MY ASS WOULD BE YELLING “YOU CAN FLY, DUMBASS” - anyway, they do that again later lmao it’s fine. But what’s low key NOT fine is they made Nya the WATER NINJA!!! Like I’m not mad she has powers, except I kinda am, she was doing just fine as Samurai X and honestly the only reason she has super special ninja powers is for plot reasons. Also Cole got turned into a ghost, but by s7 he’s????? No longer a ghost????????? And that’s NEVER addressed or reasoned away, so like. Cool lmao

S6 didn’t happen. Like, canonically, s6 ends with wish fuckery that undoes the entire season and none of the characters remember anything that happened except Jay and Nya because S6 is the season where they get back together so they remember all those events for???? Feelings reasons?????? Unclear, moving on. The actual bbeg for S6 was a djinn with a vaguely Spanish accent, and to this DAY I don’t know why they made him have a SPANISH accent. Djinn are Arabic, not Spanish!! They’re not central or South American, either!!!! Your villain design makes no sense, do better

S7 had MORE time fuckery, and retconned what happened to Kai and Nya’s parents and hmmmhmhmhmhmhm that makes me Upsetti Spaghetti :3 not just the retconning, but the fact that they LITERALLY brought them back oNLY TO NEVER MENTION THEM AGAIN!!!!!! LITERALLY!!!!!!!! Okay so at the VERY very beginning, like pilot episodes beginning, Kai talks about their dad like he died/left fairly recently, BUT s7 contradicts that and claims that both of their parents were essentially abducted when Kai and Nya were little kids, which makes me question what in the fresh fuck two little kids were doing for all those years alone. SETTING THAT ASIDE FOR A HOT SECOND, their parents were also apparently good friends of Wu’s and old war buddies (from the Serpentine wars, which is YET ANOTHER bit of the timeline that doesn’t quite add up but honestly I could make a whole other post about that shit). But if they were such good fucking friends, why didn’t Wu check in every now and again??? What the fuck was Wu doing that was so fucking important that he couldn’t have been assed to visit his friends ONCE in like TEN MOTHERFUCKING YEARS and realize “oh shit, they’re not here and there are two tiny children running around unsupervised…My Kids Now : )” LIKE????? WU YOU LOW KEY SHOULDA LOOKED OUT FOR YOUR FRIENDS’ KIDS BETTER, THEY COULDA DIED BRO!!! Uhhhh the time fuckery also results in Wu getting yeeted ahead in time a bit and the ninja gotta find him

Season. Eight. I have…mixed feelings about this one. The beginning absolutely SLAUGHTERED me, and not in a “this is so fucking funny” way. No, the beginning made me feel like I was being flayed alive with just about every episode because Ninjago was back on its forced romance bullshit and this time it was Lloyd’s turn on the chopping block. That hurt my soul cuz like, look at that mans color scheme, he’s CLEARLY alloaro, why are you forcing romance on my aro man, why would you hurt me like that, BUT ALSO BECAUSE HE AND THE GIRL HE WAS BEING SET UP WITH HAD A LITTLE HEART TO HEART REALLY EARLY ON AND IT WAS THE MOST QUEER CODED SHIT!!!! IT DEADASS READ AS A CONVERSATION BETWEEN AN OUT AND PROUD QUEER AND A CLOSETED QUEER AND THEY MADE!!! IT!!!!! STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!! The only thing that kept me watching at first was wanting to find Wu, and then I started enjoying myself once Cole found a plot-relevant baby and had fatherhood thrust upon him. Everything went from “ehhhhh” to “holy shit this FUCKS” once it was revealed that Rumi (Lloyd’s love interest) wAS PLAYING HIM THE WHOLE TIME AND WAS EVIL AND HAD AN EVIL GIRLFRIEND!!!!!! LITERALLY IMPROVED EVERYTHING ABOUT THE SEASON FOR ME, I COULD EVEN FORGIVE THE WHOLE “let’s resurrect Garmadon, but as evil as possible” BULLSHIT!!!!!!

S9 is a continuation of s8, Garmadon is back and 1000% Evil, 10% Dad, but none of the Dad energies is directed at Lloyd - it’s all directed at Rumi, and honestly I could write a whole ass post on just RUMI cuz that’s honestly my DAUGHTER and I LOVE HER and I’m MAD SHE DIES AT THE END OF THIS SEASON!!!! SHE DESERVED THERAPY AND TO LIVE WITH HER GF AND MAYBE SOME CRIME. AS A TREAT. RUMI DESERVED BETTER AND LOW KEY IM GONNA WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT, BUT ANYWAY WHERE WAS I

Ah right, so s9 has the four major Ninja stuck in the original dimension with no way home, while Lloyd has no powers (cuz he almost died last season) and has to somehow lead a resistance against Garmadon (who has taken control of Ninjago City and is working on the rest of Ninjago). Actually, s9 is pretty cool. Like, the end of s8 and into s9 are low key my favorite episodes, and I kinda wanna rewatch them now -

S10 is a FUN one. Garmadon got got last season, but he didn’t DIE, so he’s in cold storage and now there’s Another Threat and he’s the only one who knows wtf they’re up against so they let him out and he works with them. The funny part is, he is still Very Much Evil and doesn’t quite Get emotions like he did when he was, uh, human lmao, sO HE WOKE UP EVERY DAY DURING THAT SEASON AND DECIDED TO CAUSE PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. IT WAS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING SHIT. 1000000/10 MY FAVORITE GARMADON, he ended that season by literally fucking off into Ninjago and they never decided to track him down 😭😭😭😭😭and I’m so SAD about it dude

S11 has another Serpentine as the bbeg, though in the setup to that they retconned how the fucking Serpentine tribes and history work??? I think???? Also Wu was a good 150% angrier and generally Done with the ninja’s shit, which was honestly refreshing tho I’m not quite sure I liked what the refreshed view was, but whatever lmao. S11 also had the ninja get yeeted to the dimension farthest from Ninjago, and honestly - okay, so they didn’t all go at the same TIME, Zane left about a week or two before the others did but there was time dilation fuckery afoot which I’m not too mad about cuz low key it makes sense. What I AM mad about is that they didn’t play the angst up to its full POTENTIAL!!!!!! Zane was EVIL in the other dimension!!!! Okay so I’m Ninjago he was only gone for maybe a week or two, but DECADES had passed in the other one, and all that time Zane was alone and disconnected from everyone he knew and loved, with a staff that boosted his power while slowly corrupting him and Turning Him Evil to help him, and like???? The thought of Zane trying to find a way home, trying to get SOME sort of message back, while he has to use the staff more and more to help him survive the long, lonely decades, so that by the time his family DOES show up its too late??? BRO. B R O. THAT JUST HITS DIFFERENT, BUT NINJAGO DIDNT DO THAT!!! THEY MADE HIM EVIL DUE TO MEMORY WIPE!!!!!! MEMORY WIPE IS BABY SHIT COMPARED TO A LONG, SLOW CORRUPTION!!!!!!

S12 was alright. It went into Cole’s mom, touched on some of the adventures she had had, threatened another forced romance (this time on poor Cole, just leave my mans ALONE) but thankfully didn’t follow through this time, introduced cool new powers that honestly hasn’t been elaborated on since that’s the most recent season I think lmao

Anyway thanks for reading and letting me rant!!!! I have,,So Much More I could talk about, PLEASE ask me about Rumi, some of my headcanons re: Garmadon and Wu’s dynamic, the Serpentine, my top five times they butchered Kai’s character for Plot Reasons, or anything else I brought up here that you want me to elaborate on!!!

[ninaahelvar]

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (13/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: 10 motherfucking chapters to go! this will probably be my last update for the year, so i thank everyone who read in 2019, and I can't wait for 2020. I'm also incredibly close to get 1000 kudos and i cannot thank everyone enough for the love and support for this fic. it's been such a journey and it's insane that it's gotten so many people that like it. thank you for continuing to read it, and coming back with each update. (this chapter has only had minor edits made, so if there are mistakes....my bad) 

The hospital cleared him, and he was sent home with little more than a nod from Brienne. The entire team was pissed at him - it was the first rule they had; you could be friends with the royals, but nothing more could come of it. Gendry loved his job at the palace, he loved his work with the Starks, and defending them was a drive he never knew he had outside of the army. The risk he took with Arya was careless, but when it was happening, he couldn’t help himself. He was in love. 

He still was. 

But when his mum called him, crying and yelling at him about this and that, he felt a part of him break. Of all people, his mother didn’t deserve to be like that. Gendry had heard Tailya crying too often when he was a child - it was torture to know that this time, he was the cause of it all. So he broke his own heart to save his mother the pain of further embarrassment. It wasn’t right, and he should have thought of something else, but he could only save one woman in his life the pain of his love. 

At home, he sat awake, his orders from the doctor, watching endless, mind numbing television that did him nothing but want to fall asleep. Arya always made this trash seem interesting, her own personal take on the inside lives of the characters on screen. He fell in love with that. And he threw it away for nothing. 

Getting home the night he ended things, he got drunk. Like way too drunk to stand the next morning. Waking the next morning was definitely an eye opener on how he felt the night before. He had to pick up the mess he created. Then, a few days later, Arya created her first mess.  

Discharged, he sat at home, wondering what the hell was going to happen. It’d be a miracle if the palace kept him on. They probably thought he’d fuck up his work...again. They would never trust him in Arya’s proximity again, and never Sansa’s - though he knew what was going on with her. There were the boys, but Robb needed men that wouldn’t get distracted, and as for Bran and Rickon...well...they were odd ones to get along with. They were reckless on a level that was stupid rather than Arya’s rebellious. Stupid was hard to contain.

A knock came to his door after a few hours on his own, and he stumbled to the door. He wanted to grumble about he wanted to be left alone, but when the door swung open and guards he knew swarmed his apartment only to leave a few seconds later, he was left stunned. Especially when the King came rounding the corner and thanking the men that left. 

Gendry’s mouth hung open for a solid few seconds before the words formed. It was the largest lump he ever had at the back of his throat. “Your majesty! What are you doing here?” He exclaimed, swallowing back the panic that was building within his body. 

“Son, we need to talk,” The king said, clapping Gendry on the shoulder and walking past him. Ned walked like a man that was built ten times larger than most, a control over every room. He was certainly controlling the one Gendry was in. 

“Would you like a coffee?” Gendry asked, patting down his pockets as though he had something to offer. He felt like an idiot when the King turned around, a small smirk on his lips.

“A beer, if you have one.” To that, Gendry blinked, nodded and went to his fridge. He got one out of Ned, but when he looked back with a stern brow, Gendry got himself one too, joining Ned on the couch. “The queen is trying to keep me from alcohol since the wedding, said I was too reckless, but I think she’s keeping me away from liquor after the accident.” 

“Here you go, sir,” Gendry said, handing off the beer. Cracking the top off the bottle, Ned took a sip and smiled to it.

“So,” he sighed, looking over to Gendry, “tell me what happened.” 

Gendry choked. “Excuse me?” 

“With Arya? Why did it end?” 

“I don’t think we should be talking about this behind her back.” He laughed it off, but the King scowled at that answer. Gendry swallowed back the lump in his throat. He may be a kind man, but that look he gave Gendry made him feel small, like the man in front of him was his father, asking him to be honest. 

“That’s for me to deal with,” Ned grumbled, keeping his eyes locked with Gendry’s, making damn well sure that Gendry knew that he wanted an answer that night. 

Gendry sighed, fingers combing through his hair before he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got a call from my mum that morning. She had to close the shop, because people were harassing her about me. I didn’t know what she meant and I got the article sent to me. I knew what the public was doing. They would have dug through my family, through what my mum went through with the prick that left her when he found out she was pregnant. I didn’t want her going through that. My only answer at the time was to leave Arya. I didn’t want to. I was a fucking idiot to do it, but...my mum is everything to me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

The truth spilled out, like it had been waiting all his life for a chance to explain himself, to tell someone what his truest fears were. That the man that fathered him was to blame for most of the hardship in the Waters’ family line. 

The look that washed over Ned’s face made Gendry’s stomach twist, like he knew something he shouldn’t. “Do you know who your father is? Or is it -” 

“I know who he is. So do you,” Gendry said, and the King confirmed with a nod, “but I don’t need that for my mum. When he left her, she was so hurt, and whenever news comes out, we shut it off. Ever wonder why it’s a stag’s head and not just a stag?” he scoffed. 

“Kill the bastard that hurt her.” Ned smirked, taking a sip of his beer before he sighed, looking back at Gendry. He wondered if when the King looked at him, he saw the man he knew. “He may be my oldest friend, but it doesn’t mean it justifies the things he’s done in his past,” he confirmed. 

“Will you -” 

“I’ll make sure it stays out of the papers, don’t worry,” he said, and Gendry let out a sigh of relief, leaning back into his chair, a weight off his shoulders. Then, Ned continued, a strong change in his voice, deep and threatening, “but son, you’re an idiot. Get back together with my daughter. You’ve proven to me what true happiness is in that girl, and you broke her. Fix it, or I’ll make your life a living nightmare, regardless of Robert’s family name getting dragged into this,” he said, standing and making Gendry get up too. Out of respect, perhaps? But he followed whatever Ned asked him to. 

“Yes sir,” he said, almost wanting to salute, but thought he’d be mocked for it. “Are you sure you want me to get -” 

“You’re in love with her, you prick! Will you always be in love with her?” he snapped, and Gendry gave a knowing nod. 

“Yes.” 

“Then fucking tell her that,” he said, throwing his hands to the sky. “Gods, you kids are the worst, most infuriating morons I’ve ever had to be around. Making a drama out of nothing. If this happens again, you come to me first and I’ll put a stop to whatever mess is happening. That’s all you had to do, not break the love of your life’s heart,” he said, drinking the remains of his beer in one huge tilt of his neck. Gendry watched the bottle drain in a few seconds, and the King burped briefly afterwards, not even excusing himself. He almost seemed proud, probably because it meant he was on his way back to normalcy. 

“Thank you for being so frank,” Gendry smiled, to which, Ned put his hand on Gendry’s shoulder, giving a smile back. 

“If you were my boy, I’d bloody well hit you, but as King, I’ve been told I have to stop doing that to people that aren’t my family,” he chuckled, and part of him wanted to be the son of the man in front of him. He wanted to mean something to the man, to make him proud and be everything he ever wanted from Gendry. He wanted to be the best he could. 

“I’ll try to get her back, sir,” he said, chewing on his lip before he added, “or at least make it better.” 

As the King sighed, he seemed to know the challenge that lay ahead of Gendry. Better was going to be the least he could achieve. “That’s all I want,” he said, and finally, left Gendry’s home. The door was closed and Ned left without even the smallest commotion from anyone nearby. Either the streets were cleared before he got there, or his secret service team was just that good that no one could even tell he was around. 

He watched the car roll away, and for the rest of the night, he knew what he needed to do; Gendry had to plan on how he needed to act, to be better. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and he had to think carefully on what to do, because it was Arya after all. Nothing came easy with her. It wasn’t like Gendry wasn’t up for the challenge, he just knew he couldn’t treat it like that. 

The next day, when Arya came to his door, he wasn’t sure what she’d say. He kind of expected her to get angry, start to yell and fume like she did the day before and sent him to the hospital. Instead, she was an Arya that had never truly stepped foot in front of him. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that everything she said and did wasn’t necessary, anything to put her at ease and not have her acting like she were to blame.

“I know this hasn’t been easy. For either of us, but I shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled child about it. It wasn’t right of me,” she said, ducking her head down, Gendry felt his hands tighten at his sides. Why did she have to look so small? Why was he the cause of it all? He hated that Arya wasn’t herself in that moment, that she looked like someone so insignificant compared to who she actually was. “But you have to know…” she paused, and Gendry swallowed, wishing that the words that came out would help the situation. “You were the only person I’ve ever loved, and the first person to break my heart too.” 

Gendry wanted to throw up. He wanted to collapse to his knees and beg for her to take it back, to not let herself have a broken heart because of him. “Your Hi -” 

“It was always going to hurt more with this. With you. I saw myself spending the rest of my life with you. But that isn’t going to happen. It’ll be okay, but I’ll just be a little broken until it is -” 

“Arya, please, just let me -” 

“I hope to see you back at work soon. The palace isn’t the same without you.” She said. And still the words beckoned at the back of his throat. 

Arya, please, just let me explain this, let me tell you what happened, and we can do what you wanted - we’ll work it out. We’ll figure it out together, and I won’t be the asshole that broke your heart. I’ll make everything better, just let me explain.

But he couldn’t get it out. 

The princess that could have armies at her feet was a broken shell of who she once was, and he did it all to her. He broke the unbreakable, and even when men had wished to do the same thing, it meant the worst pain imaginable for him. Gendry was the only man that deserved to die, and when she spoke, her breath hiccuping at the back of her throat, he wished she had throttled him until he was in just as much pain as she was. To be broken down to the bare essentials of who he was, just like Arya. He deserved all the pain that she dished out. 

Instead, he got her apologising, wanting him back at the place where she lived, she wanted him around. 

It wasn’t right, he felt like this was a punishment for her, not him. He was the one at fault for everything wrong in her life, and yet she wanted to keep him around. Watching as she left, much like her father the night before, instead she looked up to him, smiling before she got in the car and drove away. He wondered if watching him leave that day felt the same as watching her go. That there would always be a dull ache that remained as they parted from one another. If they both felt hollow without the other. 

But it was wrong to think like that. To hope. To wish. To pray for it. That she would feel the need to want him in return. He wanted it, more than air, he wanted for her to love him again, to continue to love him in spite of everything he had done to her. All Gendry wanted was to love her, and be loved just as much in return. 

Yet, he had to ask himself, how much did he love her in the first place? If he were so willing to desert her at the drop of a hat? Could she ever see that as anything other than a betrayal? How could she ever think he loved her to begin with? She made it clear the day he saw her that she thought he was just using her for sex. Which was the furthest thing from his mind when he started his relationship with her. 

In the end, Gendry knew that he never meant to fall in love with Arya. It happened in the blink of an eye, without warning or even the slightest inkling that it could come about. Love, like most things, came to him in a crashing moment of realisation, one in which he had no chance in stopping. Either the universe was playing a cruel game on him, or it had all been fated to go this way. He hoped there was a brighter future for them both. 

It took him a few more days at home, another check up with the doctor to see how he was doing, and he was cleared for work. Dressing in his suit, he went to the palace and walked through halls that were all too familiar, yet the stares were new. They were filled with judgment and scorn. He met with Brienne, who gave him the simplest orders: don’t interact with Arya for more than needed. One sentence was enough. That’s what he was told. But he knew them, he knew that, even though conversations somewhat became hard to maintain for both of them, it would flood into arguments and snide comments that would stew in their bellies for hours. They were lit fuses, ready to ignite whatever anger had been stored in them all this time. 

Walking back out, heading towards the stairs, he saw Sansa descending with Sandor behind her. Sansa stopped in front of him, Sandor on the other hand, barged past him. “Prick.” His voice was rough and mean, and Gendry knew it was also a comment that Sansa enjoyed from her slight chuckle at it. 

Gendry was left with the princess, and he gave her a bow, as he was meant to do when first greeting royalty. He was sure Sansa thought he was being an idiot, but it didn’t matter. He already won that prize a long time ago. “You’re going to have a shit night,” Sansa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and Sansa stepped in closer to him.

“Sorry. We can chat later, but we can’t tell Arya,” she said, and Gendry nodded back in response. “Also, just cause I haven’t said it yet,” Sansa said, her hands sliding onto his shoulders, then in an instant, his mind went blank with pain, as Sansa’s knee had collided with his groin, stunning him, knees hitting the floor. “Fuck you for hurting my sister,” she said, and he choked, nodding to her aggressive action.

“I deserved that,” he wheezed, trying to get his breath back, holding his crotch to ease the pain. Sansa moved down the stairs and went to Sandor’s side, walking to the kitchens with him. 

“Great shot, little bird. Just like I taught ya,” Sandor praised and Sansa beamed a smile back at him. Gendry coughed, getting back his barrings and moving up the palace steps.

It took him a few breaths and the slowest walk up the palace steps to get himself to a presentable state before he walked into Arya’s room. He gave a knock, but Arya rarely replied, so he went inside. 

Upon stepping foot inside, Gendry’s throat went dry. He’d seen Arya look elegant, he’d seen her look disheveled but still beautiful, he’d seen her naked and bare in front of him, but fuck, he’d never seen her look so sexy in his life. With a leather skirt that hugged at every curve of her hip, tracing lines that only his hands had touched in the past, accompanied by a black lace bralette, revealing just enough to remember where his teeth had pressed in. With thin stockings and a jacket to match her skirt, Gendry was rendered incompetant to do even the most basic of tasks to breathe. 

“Where are we going?” he said, voice cracking like a teenage boy. He cleared his throat as he tried to remember what he was doing. 

Arya bent, her ass on display like she were teasing at something. Well, she was teasing him. Look at what you can no longer have. It’s free and ready to use, and you lost your chance. “Out,” she said, getting her boots and sitting on the edge of her bed as she put them on, “can’t you tell?” she questioned playfully. It made his shoulders ache, the need to readjust himself in every way possible was becoming the most agonising task. 

Sansa was right. He was going to have a shit night.

“I don’t think you going out will give off the best impression, princess.” 

“You don’t get a say in that, do you?” she remarked, going into her bathroom. He could only assume she was fixing up the make up that looked way too out of character for her. But that was possibly the point of it. 

“As your bodyguard, I do,” he reminded. Then, Arya poked her head out, puckering her lips as she reapplied the lipstick that stained her lips. 

“As my boyfriend, you don’t.” She sarcastically smiled, and Gendry felt his chest tighten.

“Arya, I’m not trying to be difficult but -” 

“Then don’t be difficult,” she gave a dry suggestion, then stopped in front of him, a scowl replacing her very smug grin, “and don’t call me my name,” she demanded. Gendry shut his mouth. The detail he had missed, one that he knowingly tried to remedy when he went in that day. It slipped. It shouldn’t have.

Arya moved out of the room quickly, skipping her way out of her room and cheerily behaving exactly as she had done when he first started. 

“Your highness! Wait!” he shouted, following after her. It felt like the beginning, when he lost sight of her and panic set in, “shit, this is going to be a long night,” he swore, racing down the stairs and seeing her get into a car. He flagged it down before it was completely able to leave. Arya scowled at him in the rear view mirror. He now felt dread take him. 

This would be his life, a job where he was condemned every day, sneered at for acting on an impulse he should have pushed aside. This was his ultimate punishment, welcomed back with open arms, and once in the hold, knives shoved in his back and he would never be able to complain - why should he? He was taken back after all the wrong he had caused. 

When they arrived, Gendry felt his shoulders sink as he looked at the building. The fucking Forge. Of course it was The Forge. Gendry wanted to put his head through the windscreen, because from his past experience in that club, it meant a great deal of foreplay that would end up going further in a bathroom stall. Arya was bolting out of the car, stripping out of her jacket and tossing it back in the car. Beric moved to the door outside, keeping watch. Gendry moved to his side when he jabbed Gendry right in the stomach. 

“What are you doing standing around out here? Gotta go in and protect the small pup,” he accosted, and Gendry groaned.

“I fucking hate this day,” he swore to himself. Moving inside, it was bodies pressing together, hands roaming to places they wouldn’t be in any normal situation - but it was hot, and people breathing down one’s neck was exactly what a person there wanted. Gendry waded through the swarms of people, being groped along the way, trying to find a wall where he could easily spy on Arya and keep her from harm. When he got there, he should have known the cruelty that he would be subjected to. 

As hands roamed, Arya smiled eagerly, hands gracing over her form and her own slipping beneath shirt collars, touching at skin that tempted at the edge of clothes. All the while, Gendry had to watch her, watch as her hips swayed, finding friction amongst the crowd, smiling that grew when people ducked their heads to her neck, lingering their mouths on her where once he was the only one to touch.

One guy came up to her, hands on her bare skin, just above her skirt and beneath the bralette that she very well could have slipped out of with how tightly the room was packed. Gendry was on edge, hid fight response was fuelling him in that moment, because all he wanted to do was shoot out across the room and punch the guy in the face - his hands on the princess when they shouldn’t have been. He couldn’t exactly judge anyone, he reminded himself, he’d done the exact same. 

Then, his hands went down, mouth directly next to her ear, whispering to her words that went deaf to the music around them. Whatever it was, it made Arya bite her lip, and the guy got eager, fingers inching down until they were trying to slip past the waistline of her skirt. Arya’s eyes sprung open, hands going to his to stop him. 

Lucky for her, jealousy had overtaken Gendry and he was already through the crowd and pulling the man from her. Taking hold of Arya’s bicep, he tugged her along. 

“Your Highness,” he said, dragging her out. Her hands tried to ungrip his hold on her, but he could do it - he had to get her out of there. He held her out the back door, pushing her out the back entrance and into the cold. 

“Get off me, Gendry!” she snarled and he finally released her. 

“You can’t do this out of spite,” he snapped back. Was he even really mad at her, or just the guy she was using? Either way, jealousy was moving its course, and he’d place blame wherever it laid. 

“You’d be amazed at what I’d do out of spite,” she replied with a scoff. A wisp of cold Northern air came through and shook Gendry. He wasn’t used to it, even after the year or so of being there. He suspected that it would be the same for Arya, if she weren’t half dressed. 

“This isn’t you, and you know it,” he replied, and Arya frowned at him. 

“Wow, really? You’re observant,” she scowled, rolling her eyes as she clutched tighter to her biceps, holding herself for warmth that was lost in the Winterfell night. Why he felt sorry for her, he hated it, because at the end of the day - all he knew was what Arya made him feel. In the depths of the cold, she always would provide warmth. Shaking off his jacket, he pulled it around Arya’s shoulders and stood back in a huff. Arya clutched it to her, but provided no surprise in his action. She just took it, as she should have. 

“Gods, you’re acting like a child, you know that?” he growled, hands going into his pockets. 

“Says the man that ran away when he got scared,” she snapped. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed. 

“Fuck you,” Arya snarled, turning from him, taking her place as a royal, her chin high and shoulders square. She wouldn’t stand for how she was being treated. Yet, there was a flicker in her eyes of pain - that she shouldn’t have said what she did, she shouldn’t be acting the way she had been. 

“Do you love me?” 

“Don’t ask me that,” she groaned. 

“I still love you, and this is what you’re doing,” he replied, and Arya looked back at him, shocked that he would eve say it. 

“I’m allowed to do what I like, regardless if I love you or not. You ended things too, remember? So why do you care?” 

“Because I do! Because I love you!” he shouted, unleashing the pain in his chest. He just needed to say it. Needed her to know that his heart hasn’t changed. He needed to...he wanted to better for her, and wanted her to know she was still loved. “Don't you still love me? What more is there?” 

“Of course I still love you, idiot! But you still broke my heart and my trust!” she snapped back, her cheeks going rosy because of the crisp night air.

“Then we can figure this out, we can work through this.” 

“I don't want to figure this out. I want to know you’re in this. I need to know you’re gonna fight for me.” Arya looked hurt, that breathing was becoming painful, or maybe it was just the same air they shared. 

“I am fighting for you!” Gendry roared. 

“You’re begging for me, there’s a difference!” Arya yelled back, her eyes pleading for him to know the difference. 

“I have always fought for us, you just don’t -” 

“You ran! You ran when you told me you loved me, and you ran when things got hard. You want me back? You make damn well sure that I trust you enough not to leave again,” she said, shoving at his chest. “Prove me wrong!”

“I’ve literally bled for you!” he snarled back, stepping into her space. Arya’s next breath came out shaken, the wind catching it and whafting it away like smoke. 

“I just want you to want me! Without fear, without concern or a care! I want you to fight to want me!” 

“Arya, please, I'm trying,” he said, voice soft, and Arya whined, her hand going to her forehead. She seemed like she was ready to cry, and Gendry felt it too, the tension in his chest was becoming agonising. Arya seemed to be worse off in the situation. 

“I know. I need to know you understand that for me and my position, I can’t just give trust back. You taught me that.” Her words stung, and he stepped back, watching as she clutched her arms tighter around herself. “I’m in the spotlight and at massive risk everyday. Trusting people, even someone who I don’t interact with regularly, is trusting that they won’t kill me or my family. It’s not that I could lose my title. It’s that I or my family could be killed and risk the lives and livelihoods of our people.” There were truths and lies in her words, but it wasn’t the time or place to argue with her - she was close to tears. “I trusted you, and even though I know you’d never physically hurt me or my family, I can’t just go back to normal. I have too much to lose.”

“So do I, that’s why I left,” he admitted. “I panicked. My mum has been through so much to get me here and because I followed my heart, her life was being affected. I have to protect her, she’s the only thing I have unconditionally.” Arya chewed on her lip as Gendry stepped back into her space. It was so familiar there, a perfect encasing for who she was in that space, warm even in the freezing night air. “I saw the statement. I know your family had to post it but I can’t help but think...was any of it true? Did you really...was it really all for nothing?”

“Don’t ask me that. You’re not going to like the answer,” she lied. He could tell by the tear that slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away, looking off from him. 

A flash went off close by and they both shot their attention to the guy with the camera. “Princess! Is this a lovers spat!” he yelled, and Arya was ready to haul herself at him. 

“Fuck you!” 

“Your highness,” Gendry caught her quickly and she snapped her anger to him. He gave her a cautious raise of his brow, “allow me, please.” Gendry looked down at her, a warning look. Her stubbornness could have won out, and he very well could have pulled her away from the situation, dragging her away and causing even more of a scene than necessary. Instead, she huffed, giving him a nod of approval. She wasn’t happy about it, but she allowed it nevertheless. 

“Hey, buddy, gimme the camera,” Gendry said, walking to the guy. He had been frozen solid by the realisation that a threat was coming, and it made Gendry confident with his coming actions. As he got there, the paparrazi gave over the camera, and Gendry looked it over before throwing it hard against the wall beside him. The paparrazi went to his destroyed camera, looking up at Gendry.

For a moment, Gendry felt sorry, but knowing what guys like him usually did for money, his pity went away. Kneeling beside him, Gendry gave a sarcastic smile. “Go fuck yourself. The princess has been through enough. She gets to speak to me or you however she likes. So on her behalf, you can cordially, go fuck yourself right up the ass, and please, for everyone’s sake, shut the fuck up, would ya?” he said, and the guy simply nodded, leaving his broken camera on the ground, staggering to his feet, ready to race off. “Send a bill to the palace and we’ll replace it for you,” he said, and Arya came to his side. 

“You’re too nice,” she whispered, “I would have broken his arm.” Gendry believed that. 

“Which is why I had to handle it. You know you would have broken more than just an arm, princess,” he said, looking down at her, and she scoffed out a laugh, something she probably didn’t want to do, but did so against her will. 

“We need to get back to the palace before you freeze,” Gendry cleared his throat, gesturing out to the main street. Arya furrowed her brow, going to head back to the club, only for his arm to shoot out and stop her. Arya folded her arms over her chest, snarling back at him.

“I’m a Northern Princess, Gendry, I don’t freeze.” 

“Normally, I’m sure. But you’re currently in the worst outfit imaginable. Let’s go,” he demanded, and Arya rolled her eyes. 

“You ruin all the fun,” she said, moving around the corner.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, voice far quieter than it had been before. They were back on the street and heading to the car. As they got there, Beric moved from the door, scoffing at Gendry as they moved to the car doors. 

“Have fun back there?” Beric chuckled. Gendry sucked in a breath, lunging to him and binding his fists in tight to Beric’s jacket. 

“Shut the fuck up, Beric. Nothing happened,” Gendry barked, holding on tight to Beric. 

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes. Gendry slammed Beric’s back to the door of the car, making Arya jump out and look over the top of the car. 

“That’s the fucking princess, you’re talking about. She isn’t just any woman. I lost sight of that, but I haven’t anymore. Treat her with more respect,” he said, throwing Beric against the car again and nodding up to Arya. 

“Sorry, your highness,” Beric apologised with a grumble in his voice. 

“It’s okay, Beric. I didn’t take anything by it.” Arya moved back into the car, and they were off, no other word or arguments as they got to the palace. 

Gendry walked up the palace stairs and to Arya’s room. Arya walked in, exchanging Gendry’s jacket for a throw blanket on the top of her bed. Gendry looked around her room, noticing that her furniture that changed its position, something he hadn’t picked up on the first time he was in there that day - that most of her room felt different then what it once was. That it was no longer one he knew to be...theirs. 

With his jacket over his shoulders again, Gendry gave to nod to Arya as goodbye. “Goodnight, your Highness.” 

“Gendry,” Arya said, her voice weak but urging him to stay. He stood still, waiting for Arya to speak. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. When you fell, I was hurting and angry and I just -” 

“Acted. I know how you felt. When I broke up with you that night,” he stopped himself, unsure if he should say it. In the end, he looked at Arya’s face and knew he could never lie to her again. “I got home and trashed my apartment. I broke a bunch of windows and the frame of my bed is kind of resting on three legs currently.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

He shrugged. Truth was all he had to gain back trust. “Cause I was an idiot. I broke up with the only woman I’d ever love.” 

“But being with me, meant hurting the only person that had ever been there for you before me,” Arya reiterated what he had told her.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back at his feet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Me too,” he said, raising his chin before giving a soft bow. “Your Highness,” he cleared his throat, wondering if the words would come out. “I’m sorry for how I acted tonight. It isn’t my place anymore to get in your way. I wish you all the happiness. I promise I won’t get in the way of that anymore,” he said, needing to clear his throat once more. It would be torture to do it, but he truly just wanted her to be happy again. He turned on his heels, getting ready to leave her room. 

“You were my happiness,” she whispered, but he heard it, and it felt like her full fist reached into his chest and squeezed. Were. It was clear, even if he had the chance to win her back, to get back into her good books and mend the wounds he had formed, she’d never give it back. The trust he had built from the very start was shattered beyond repair - a piece always missing from the heart they once shared. 

Gendry kept walking and hoped to god that when he got back to his apartment, he still had alcohol hidden away somewhere, because he was sure he needed to end this day drunk. 

 *~*~*

 “You were my happiness,” she whispered, and for a moment he stopped before he left the room. Arya choked on her small sob, chewing on her lip before she said something he’d never hear. “You still are.” 

[holidaywishes]

I Just Wanted You

Summary: You and Jamie used to be High School sweethearts before he got drafted. Now it’s nearly 10 years later when you finally see him again and you can’t believe you ever let him go

Warnings: none? more angst than I intended, a tiny little bit of fluff.

Author’s Note: I literally have no idea where this came from. I was going to write the next part in my Gally series or my Freddie series but then... Jamie Benn happened.

masterlist

  The last time you saw Jamie, your heart broke. He had just been drafted to Dallas and asked you to go with him but you said no. The idea of giving up any possibility of your own future just to follow him around as he became something amazing seemed like a selfish request on his part. No matter how much you loved him. So you said no and he said you were over; and your heart broke into a million pieces. Naturally, when your best friend told you that she was getting married to a man who worked in Dallas, you knew the Bachelorette Party was going to be there.

   “Think about it!” Claire exclaimed, “if we have it there, then we can literally just crash at Sam’s place -- which will soon be my place too. AND WE WON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING!”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay for anything anyway...” you argued

  “(Y/N),” she narrowed her eyes at you, “you’re not gonna see him. It’s not like we’re going to the game. Just forget Jamie Benn exists for a bit so we can have some fun at my Bachelorette Party.” Claire had been there for you after your breakup with Jamie. For days, she cuddled next to you in matching Onesie’s watching Meg Ryan Rom Com movies from the 80s and eventually your life went back to normal, so you knew that she wasn’t going to let you get hurt. Not again.

  “Fine,” you finally caved, “we’ll go to Dallas.” Claire jumped up and down with glee before running to grab her phone to send out a mass text.

  “Pack your bags, ladies. This bitch is getting married and her maid of honour is putting on a kick ass Bachelorette Party in Dallas. Three days of alcohol and no rules before I give myself to the only man I’ve ever truly loved. Let’s give Dallas a party like they’ve never seen!” All you could do was giggle and roll your eyes when you read the text as you sat across from your best friend. It was going to be three days of alcohol for sure but there would most definitely be rules.

  Especially with Claire’s group of Sorority Sisters she’d collected over the years.

  The flight from Vancouver to Dallas was a rocky one so touching down felt like you’d all just escaped Death. One of Claire’s friends grabbed a cab as soon as the group got out of the airport and everyone piled in to head to Sam’s place; turning to you for “the plan.”

  “Hmm, okay. Here’s what I’ve got going in my brain...” you started, “drop our stuff at Sam’s, go have a bite to eat -- steak, chili, pizza, whatever, -- come back, get dressed and head out. But understand me ladies, there are rules. There will be one stop at one strip club. No more and we will not be ordering a stripper to the house so count your losses if you don’t get the kind of show you want at the club. No drugs and no drinks from strangers. You meet a guy at the club and you want to go off with him? That’s up to you but make sure your phone battery is full so that if you run into trouble one of us can get you help. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the girls chanted mockingly and you laughed

  “Alright then..” When it was finally time for the night to begin, the apartment was filled with loud, giddy screams and you weren’t sure what you signed up for; forcing you to take a few too many shots of Tequila before even ordering an Über.

  “Car is here girls, let’s do this” you yelled to the group of girls, frantically checking their makeup in the hall mirror, earning a mocking eye roll from you.

  “WAIT WAIT!” Claire shouted, “we need a selfie first!” The group huddled around Claire and took a few photos -- funny faces, sexy poses, a kiss on the brides cheek and one normal one that Claire chose as her favourite to post.

  @clairebear tagged you in a photo: “My girls and I are ready to show Dallas the true meaning of Party. #werecominforya #hideyoboys #hideyohusbands #Dallas2019 #ifyouresingleletsmingle #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019″

  @(Y/I/H): Counting down until this lady can no longer post hashtags about different cities hiding their men from her. #Clairesgettingmarried #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019.

  It wasn’t long before you’d hit up almost every bar in Downtown Dallas and you could see some of the girls were in desperate need of water so you collected each of them and starting walking down Main Street to find some kind of fast food place to eat when you heard one of the girls scream from the back of the group.

  “What’s wrong!?” you and Claire said at once.

  “Holy fuck! Claire, check your Insta...” Claire hopped on her phone, navigating to the app and immediately looked at you when she saw the comment. You knew it had to be from him, it was the only reason she’d look at you like that.

  “Jamie motherfucking Benn commenting on your post. On a picture of us! Say something back!!!” You and Claire were still deadlocked trying to decide what to do

  “Let’s just step in here and grab some food. We’ll... figure out a reply later” you answered and the girls looked at you dumbfounded. While they ordered, you grabbed a booth and opened your phone to look at the picture, scanning through the comments to find Jamie’s

  @jamiebenn14: you think you can party harder than Dallas? I doubt it but I’m willing to make a bet with you.

  You stared at his comment for too long before you finally noticed that you had a message and your thumb hovered over the little paper plane in the corner of your screen; trying to garner the courage to open it.

  @jamiebenn14 would like to send you a message: long time, no see. You look good.

  That fucker. After ten years, he thinks he can just slide into your DM’s and all will be forgotten. Telling you you look good as if you’d be that gullible, that starstruck, that desperate to cave into him like you always did. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

  @(Y/I/H): What’s the bet Benn?

  It was all you could muster. You had heard he was in a relationship and the last thing you needed was to have some chick you’d never met before show up and punch you in the face. You were trying your best not to do anything that might come across as flirtatious or presumptuous but he was your ex...

  @jamiebenn14: Meet me and Ty at the Nines. We’ll show you that Dallas is a better place to party than Kelowna.

  @(Y/I/H): I don’t think so. That wasn’t really the point -- we weren’t implying that Kelowna is a better place to party but that we’re better at partying than anyone in Dallas...

  @jamiebenn14: I don’t think so. You haven’t met these people. You’re out of your league

  @(Y/I/H): I guess I’ve always been out of my league...

  The conversation more or less ended there and you had to pull Claire aside to tell her what was going on, what he was saying, when Shandra overheard and took over the situation.

  “Hell yeah we’ll go to the Nines to meet Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin!”

  “Shandra shut up!” Claire yelled and you held your face in embarrassment

  “What?! How the hell do you even know them?”

  “We went to High School with Jamie, we’ve never met Tyler before --”

  “And we’re not going to...” you chimed in before Shandra could add in any quips to Claire’s statement.

  “Fine whatever.” You knew that Shandra was going over to the rest of the group and telling them everything, forcing you and Claire to take a deep breath before heading back to the table.

  “Listen to me,” Claire said quickly before the two of you walked back to the table, “you can call it a night. The girls are going to be really aggressive about this and I’m too drunk to say ‘no’ to them right now. So you can call it a night and we’ll pick it up tomorrow. That way you don’t have to see Jamie. And if you block him you won’t have to hear from him...”

  “I’m not bailing on your Bachelorette Party Claire,” you replied, “I’ll survive. I’ll be fine. I’m sure he only looks good on T.V....”

  You were obviously wrong. The second your eyes locked on him at the club, you could feel yourself drooling. He had most definitely gotten better with age and you were the girl who let him go. What an idiot you were.

  “(Y/N), Claire, there you are!” Jamie greeted, pulling Tyler and who you assumed was his girlfriend over, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to take me up on the bet.” You smiled awkwardly but still couldn’t find the words. Why was this so god damn hard?

  “Nice to meet you,” Claire stuck her hand out to Tyler, “I’m Claire.”

  “Tyler and this is Kate” he replied and she gave a small, unenthusiastic wave

  “This is (Y/N)” you were suddenly snapped away from Jamie to greet his teammate.

  “Hi, nice to meet you..”

  “So, you’re the One That Got Away huh?” Tyler said and Jamie gave him a quick nudge, making you huff slightly. You weren’t The One That Got Away, not really, more like the One Who Had Too Much Pride. Your mind was racing. Part of you wanted to stay and get to know Jamie again, another part of you knew it was wrong and that it would end in flames but an even bigger part of you was pissed that he wasn’t describing the situation properly.

  “I’m sorry.. I ca- I have to go..” you stumbled over your words, “I’ll see you at the house Claire. Stay safe please...”

  “Wait (Y/N)” you heard Jamie call after you but you just continued running out of the crowded room. When you finally got out, you noticed that your phone had died and you had to settle for hailing a cab.

  “You’ll never catch a cab” his voice boomed from behind you, sending shivers down your spine

  “You don’t know that”

  “It’s late. I’ve lived here long enough to know when they stop accepting fares.” You looked back at him quickly, and quite pathetically, before getting angry and defensive

  “Fine, I’ll walk then.”

  “You don’t know where you’re going!”

  “I’ll manage”

  “You’ll end up in a ditch”

  “Don’t think so”

  “(Y/N) stop, let me call you an Über or drive you home or something, please..” You stopped walking, your back toward him, and contemplated your options

  “Fine. Order me an Über but then go back inside. I don’t wanna talk to you...” He entered in the address you gave him and tried to get you to talk to him but you refused

  “I don’t get it. What did I do? I barely said anything in there. I couldn’t have offended you that quickly?”

  “Just stop Jamie. Stop talking. It’s not about what happened in there, that doesn’t matter. It’s about what you’re telling people happened back then...”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The One That Got Away?”

  “Yeah..?”

  “Jamie.. you broke up with me because I wouldn’t move here with you”

  “That’s not exactly what happened”

  “No, you’re right. You asked me to skip my graduation, leave my family and my friends to move to a new city with no job prospects or qualifications to be with you. Because your life was more important than mine”

  “I never said my life was more important. I thought you would want to experience this life with me... And I didn’t think we’d survive long distance”

  “You never even tried to give it a chance...”

  “I.. I ju--”

  “Exactly. Look I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came out tonight. I’m sorry I responded to your DM. I’m sorry for everything but you can go back inside. I’ll be fine. Thanks...”

  “Why couldn’t you have at least stayed in touch with me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “After we broke up? We were friends first before anything and that just went out the window..”

  “You broke my fucking heart!! The last thing I wanted was to keep you in my life without actually having you in my life”

  “Like my heart didn’t break?”

  “You don’t get to play the victim here, Benn, you ended it. I didn’t. I wanted it to work. I would’ve done FaceTime or Skype or emails or texts or anything but you ended it so that was that. You can’t say that your heart broke because you didn’t even fucking try!”

  “(Y/N)”

  “And you moved on rather quickly anyway so...”

  “Not really..”

  “This was a mistake... Have a nice life Jamie. I’ll see you never.” You turned your back to him and waited to hear his footsteps head back inside but they neither dissipated or got closer to you. He never moved.

  “I loved you. Ending it-- us was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being cold about it seemed like the easiest way to handle it but, ask Jordie, I cried after you told me you wouldn’t stay with me. That you didn’t want to be with me...” You turned around to see a small crowd forming but all you could focus on was Jamie’s sad expression

  “You didn’t give me an option Jamie. I was starting my own life and you were too and I couldn’t take that away from you. I didn’t think you’d take it away from me either but there you were, telling me to drop everything for you. And I would’ve, because I loved you so much, but I didn’t want to resent you”

  “You would’ve resented me?”

  “Maybe... I don’t know. All I know is that it really sucked and it really hurt me that that’s how we were ending.” His gaze dropped to the street and you watched as the headlights from your Über shone across the building, showcasing a small tear on Jamie’s cheek when he looked up at you again

  “I’m sorry...” it suddenly hit you that he said you didn’t want to be with him and your mind raced to find something to say as he started walking away

  “I just wanted you” he stopped dead in his tracks as your words reached him, turning around when the silence was too much to handle, “I would’ve done anything for you, for us, because I just wanted you Jamie. Which is why it hurt so much when we couldn’t find a way to make it work.” He just kind of stared at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to continue or if he was trying to come up with something to say himself. You had laid it all out for him again and you couldn’t wait anymore so, you turned to the car waiting for you; opening the door with that same broken heart you had nearly 10 years ago. You heard a quick shuffle of feet and suddenly Jamie’s hand was on your waist and you turned around to meet his stare; he didn’t say anything, only leaned in slowly to capture your lips in a kiss that felt like it had been built up in his system for ages, only stopping when the driver honked his horn.

  “I don’t have time for this. Either get in or shut the door!” With a bright smile, Jamie pulled you away from the car and brought you in for another kiss as he slammed the car door.

[sawyer-saucee]

If You Had The Chance To Change Your Fate...

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Words: 3,992

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairings: Rociet, fatherly logince, fatherly lociet, platonic anxciet, brief brotherly mociet (blink and you miss it)

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, panic (but no panic attacks), mentions of breakups/divorce, a good hearty dose of Deceit’s potty mouth (swearing), arguing, mentions of Nazis (as in, our boys hate them)

Summary: Devon Lee, a hopeless romantic who would never admit to it, and Roman Adelio, a man who’s long since given up on love, are destined to be together. Will fate do its job correctly, or will the pair defy the ides of fortune?

A/N: This is a story I wrote for @quoth-the-sparrow​!!!! It took longer than I intended because it ended up being a monster of a story (originally it was only going to be around 1,000 words of pure fluff, but we can all see how that turned out), so dad, I hope you like it! (And I hope everyone else likes it too!) <3

10 years, 4 months, 13 days, 11 hours, and 58 minutes. That was how long Devon Lee had been waiting for his soulmate. As a child, he’d always assumed the world was colorless, and that everyone saw it the way that he did. But, as it had been explained to him by his older brother Patton when he was nine years old, eventually, when you found that one person who was destined to be your perfect match, your world would change. It was hard to explain how when Dee couldn’t even begin to visualize what this “color” Patton spoke of looked like, but his brother made it sound so appealing. “Dee,” He’d said, “You know that feeling you feel when your favorite TV show comes on at just the right time? Or… oh! Or that feeling when someone gets you the perfect gift?” And Dee had nodded as Patton grinned and said, “That’s what the world looks like when you find your soulmate.”

So, ever since that moment 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes ago now, Devon had been waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At a certain point he quite honestly had become sick of waiting and had renounced the prospect of soulmates as a whole, but deep inside his chest there had always been a longing that he would never admit to - a secret timer keeping track of the 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes that he’d been waiting. Not that he was counting or anything.

Roman Adelio, on the other hand, didn’t believe in soulmates, not one bit. He hadn’t since the moment his mother had walked out the scuffed front door of the house he’d grown up in, leaving him behind with only a father with the words, “Have you seen a pair of blue ballet slippers anywhere?” tattooed on his chest and the knowledge that even though the first words of his mother were permanently etched onto his father’s skin, that hadn’t stopped them from falling apart. He never wanted to be like them. So, he took the whole theory if Occam’s razor to heart and decided that the simplest explanation was that love was simply a fraud that he would never participate in.

…12 years, 6 months, 24 days 12 hours, and 9 minutes.

That was how long it had been since Roman had given up on love.

His skin was devoid of cheesy first word tattoos, and he was determined to keep it that way.

— — — — —

“Dee, come on, you’re 5 minutes late for your meet-and-greet already!” Virgil, Dee’s ever-so-irritable manager called from ten feet in front of the tardy YouTuber. Devon sighed and propelled himself forward with slightly more urgency, the tires of his wheelchair squeaking over the tiled floor.

“We’re not late, we’re simply rebelling against the society-imposed definition of punctuality,” he deadpanned, rolling past Virgil through to the outside of the building. “I, for one, think it’s an inspiring display of anarchy.”

“You know, it’s real funny to see you playing hard to get when you���re already hard enough to like.” Virgil huffed in response, giving the back of Dee’s chair a playful shove to get him going faster. The man laughed and deliberately slowed down, thereby causing Virgil to let out a sort of half distressed croak/half irritated groan. It was terribly amusing, to say the least. After a moment of tense silence broken only by Virgil’s incessant nerve-amplified echolalia, (“An- anarch- anarchy- anarchy- fuck…”), the manager finally snapped.

“That’s it, I’m going ahead. I’ll let the fans know you’re gonna be late, but you’d better hurry your ass up and get over there, okay? You have five minutes before I flip my fucking lid, Dee.”

“That sounds entertaining, maybe I’ll take my time just for that!”

“You have a goddamn death wish, I swear to god!” Virgil yelled as he took off sprinting towards the building they were overdue at. Dee chuckled and kept rolling along, enjoying how warm the sun was that day. His friends often joked that he was cold-blooded for how intolerant he was to the cold and… in truth, he wouldn’t deny it. It fit his aesthetic.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…” As the wind picked up, Dee noticed the voice that it was carrying with it. He didn’t believe in magical creatures like sirens, and yet his first thought upon hearing that voice was that no human could possibly sing so beautifully. The song was meant for a high voice, like the princess in the movie, but somehow the rich bass tones of the voice he was hearing brought the melody new life. In other words, he would allow this man to step on him, no questions asked. Dee’s vivid gray eyes - well, he had no idea if they were actually gray, because everything else was, too, but regardless - scanned the grassy courtyard he was going past and eventually landed on the shape of a man twirling around in the center of the yard. He was just as attractive as his voice was, further solidifying Devon’s resolve to allow this man to step on him. The wheels on his chair protested as he rolled into the grass, but Dee was so mesmerized by the image of this tall, lanky - was that a dress he was wearing? - unabashedly effeminate man that he hardly noticed the barrage of bumps.

Dee blinked, finding his vision going a bit blurry all of a sudden. Dots began flashing in front of his vision as he drew closer to the man, and he shook his head, absently dismissing it as an effect of jet lag. As he neared the man, getting close enough to make out details like the spattering of freckles all over his body, the light streak in his otherwise dark hair, even the collection of bandaids scattered all over his body, a sure indicator that he was either clumsy (he had so much limb for just one man, after all) or just plain reckless, Dee noticed something that he wasn’t sure how to explain. A change in the man’s face. The grays he’d spent his whole life staring at were morphing into something unrecognizable, and-

“Holy goddamn motherfucking shit…”

— — — — —

Roman clamped his mouth shut and turned to face whoever had just ever-so-rudely thrown off his groove. The courtyard had been blissfully empty for the first time that day and though he loved his fans as much as they loved him, a moment alone to sing had been a welcome intermission. Especially since he’d been around so many people bragging about their soulmates all day.

It was to be expected, of course, since Roman’s YouTube channel was dedicated to music and he sang love songs almost exclusively, but people introducing their soulmates to him still made him uneasy. All of the “We met because we were both fans of you!” And “Our first words were lyrics from your song, look!” Were sweet, of course, but still…unnerving. Every time he saw those tattoos he was that eight-year-old kid again, watching everything he loved slip away.

And now that his moment of solitude had been interrupted, he wasn’t gonna lie - he was more than a little irritated

“Excuse me, I was singing here!” He protested, placing his hands on his hips and sticking out his bottom lip in an indignant pout. Foot tapping fervently on the grass, he waited for the man’s response - a man who, Roman noted, was far more attractive than he had any right to be. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, though one had flecks of gold ringing the pupil. Roman hadn’t even known that was possible, he’d only ever seen characters in his favorite books described that way. Aside from that, his hair was an array of sloppily dyed and removed colors, with gray fading into yellow and then into purple and pink and blue and bleached-out blonde… it was like the guy had just grabbed whatever random boxes of dye he could reach and went nuts. It was cute, though. A large wine-stain birthmark made his fairytale-esque golden eye stand out even more and wow was Roman gay. That didn’t change the fact that he was tempted to go full Kuzco on this guy. He felt a pinch on his neck and winced, bringing his hand up to rub at it while he continued, “It’s not very polite to interrupt a man in the middle of a serenade!”

The man’s face remained blank and he blinked a few times, his hands tap-tap-tapping on the rubber wheels of his wheelchair.

“…I’m going to be real here, a moment ago I was annoyed but now I’m a little creeped-”

“You’re my soulmate,” The man whispered, so quietly that Roman wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. He hoped he hadn’t heard him right.

“…What? You-”

“You’re my soulmate!” The man shouted, eyes lighting up. “My brother once told me that seeing color was beautiful, but I never quite understood what he meant until now!” A moment of silence passed between them, and just as Roman was about to open his mouth to say that no, there must be a mistake, he didn’t even have a tattoo- “I’d apologize for the tattoo, but I find it rather funny that you have  “holy goddamn motherfucking shit” permanently etched into your skin.”

Roman let out a fearful squeak as he fumbled to pull out his phone and check his face in the camera. His cheeks and forehead were clear, nothing on his arms…he was almost ready to berate the man for lying when he noticed the dark words written in clunky, nearly illegible cursive on his neck. ‘Holy goddamn motherfucking shit.’

“…What?” This made no sense at all. He didn’t even know what to say. This man seemed nice and all, but Roman had promised himself he would never let this happen to him. There must have been some kind of mistake. “I don’t… I don’t have a soulmate!” He blurted stupidly, rubbing at the writing on his neck.

Dee squinted, confused. “…Right, of course you don’t. It isn’t like the first words I said to you just appeared on your neck and I can see color now, something that only happens once you find your soulmate or anything. But you know. Of course I’m not your soulmate.”

“No, I-” Roman stammered, falling back a step. “I-I- I don’t have a soulmate. And even if I do, I don’t want one!”

“Don’t…” Dee blinked, trying to process what this man, his soulmate, had just said to him. After all this time… he’d waited 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 24 minutes for this? A guy who wanted nothing to do with him? “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Look, you seem nice and all, but I-”

“No no no, I did not wait ten years for this-“

“Oh, so you expected your soulmate to just fall all over you the moment you met him? To sweep you away and live out a happily ever after with you? Is that it? Well, I’m sorry to destroy your fantasy, but I don’t do love, okay?”

A sigh broke past Devon’s lips as he crossed his arms, leaning forward to catch Roman’s eyes. “Geez, who the hell hurt you?” He asked flippantly, somehow missing the way the man’s face paled. “The universe matched us at birth and you’re not even going to speak to me?”

“The universe is bullshit!” Roman yelled, catching Devon off guard. “It’s all a fucked-up system that I don’t want to be a part of! I’m not letting some metaphysical Tinder ruin my life again!”

Among all of that dramatic ranting, one word stood out to Dee. “…Again?”

Roman blinked, mentally running back through everything he’d said. “I…” Dee noticed how hard his voice was shaking. “Just leave me alone. Please.” He whispered desperately, turning on his heel and sprinting away.

Dee watched the man run, the heeled boots he was wearing clacking against the smooth concrete like a heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

That man was his soulmate.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

He wanted nothing to do with Dee… and there was a reason why. Something that man hadn’t been able to say. He knew it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

But most importantly…

Ba-dum, ba-dum, creaaaak- the door of the nearest building opened and shut, the man’s face appearing once through the glass and then disappearing down a long hallway.

Someone had hurt him, and under no circumstances would Devon stand for that. With new resolve, he started painstakingly wheeling himself across the grass to follow his strange, sad new soulmate.

— — — — —

The moment Roman heard the door he’d run through shut behind him, he pushed into the closest bathroom and collapsed under the sinks. This was not possible by any stretch of the imagination. He’d come here to this goddamn con to have a good time and meet his fans and now he was, about to cry in a bathroom because some excited, well-meaning guy had come up to him and told him something that anyone else would be happy about. He let out a choked sob and covered his eyes, employing his fingers as little dams to keep the waterworks in. Going back out there with swollen eyes and a red nose was not an option.

What were his options, then? Avoid this guy for the rest of his life, not only subjecting himself to the constant fear of running into him again but the guilt of knowing that he’d deprived this guy of his (supposedly) one true partner, or accept it and live in constant fear of it all falling apart? He couldn’t do this right now. Hell, he couldn’t do this ever, what was meant to be the happiest moment of his life was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in years, things he’d never wanted to feel again.

“Anyone in here?” A voice called out, muffled through the flimsy wooden door of the bathroom.

“No!” Roman called back, mentally kicking himself for that stupid move.

“Good to know,” The voice replied, growing clearer as whoever it was pushed the door open. Roman heard the couple grunts and the squeak of rubber on tile, looking up for not even half a second to see his soulmate struggling to get the heavy wooden door open while his wheelchair kept rolling backward from the force of him pushing. “Stupid broken brakes…”

“What are you doing here?” Roman snarled, hastily wiping his eyes and retreating back further into the corner.

His soulmate shrugged as nonchalantly as a person could while fighting with a door, saying, “You seemed upset.”

“Yeah, because of you.” What was this guy’s problem? “I told you to leave me alone!”

“Well, I once told my brother that I wouldn’t come home from school until Aladdin came to pick me up on his magic carpet. We can’t all have what we want- a-ha!” He finally won the battle with the door, letting it shut behind him with a triumphant click! “Now, I believe we skipped some pleasantries. I’m Devon Lee. Or Dee, if you’d prefer. I didn’t catch your name.”

The bathroom went silent save for the shaky breathing of someone trying to stop crying and water echoing through the pipes overhead. Exchanging names would mean this man knew him. This man, with his mismatched eyes and crazy hair and obnoxiously bright yellow-and-green wheelchair (and people thought Roman was extra), would have a name to associate with his face. That would not do.

“I didn’t throw it.”

The excitement that flickered to life in Devon’s eyes was unexpected, and Roman nearly flinched when the man burst out, “Oh my god, that was not a Heathers reference!”

He got that? Most people only understood when he quoted the songs, not the script. “You know Heathers?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not like I’m a die-hard musical theatre fan or anything.” Dee laughed, a sound that made Roman think of bubbles. “Heathers, Waitress, Hamilton, Rent, Sound of Music, you name it, I know-”

“You like the Sound of Music?” Roman gasped. He pushed himself up off the floor, forgetting for a moment why he was so upset. “Most people I bring it up to tell me it’s a girl’s show.”

Dee grinned. His smile was pearly white, though Roman didn’t miss the shiny gold teeth in place of his incisors. A brilliant smile, shiny gold fangs, a love of musical theatre almost as obsessive as Roman’s… what didn’t this guys have?

“Girl’s show?” He scoffed. “Please, gender is meaningless and Julie Andrews’s voice is a spiritual experience anyone would be blessed to hear.”

“Yes! Finally!” His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to happy-flap them. “I must know, though, who’s your favorite character?”

Dee pursed his lips, tugging thoughtfully at his hair for a moment before answering, “Leisl. I admire her capacity for deception.”

“Oh? You’re a fan of deception?” Roman’s eyebrows rose, and the fear that he’d forgotten about in the wave of that’s-my-hyperfixaiton joy bobbed back up to the surface like a shell being tossed around in the sea. “…why not Rolf, then? He was a classic liar, and a talented one too.”

“Rolf?” Dee folded over cackling, clutching his stomach as he fought to speak through incredulous giggles. “He was a Nazi! Not to mention that he betrayed Leisl, the girl who loved him, by trying to get her family murdered. You must think so little of me to even imagine that I could admire him!”

Though Dee kept laughing, Roman had long since fallen silent. This wasn’t okay. He wasn’t supposed to connect with Devon - or… well, technically he was supposed to, but he didn’t want to, even if the guy liked the Sound of Music and understood his Heather’s reference and had come after him when he was upset, even if Dee was attractive and seemed funny and kind… even if he appeared to be everything Roman had ever wished for, there was too much of a risk. Maybe Devon would expect too much or they’d have a long relationship until one day Roman’s heart was broken.

‘And I call myself brave,’ Roman’s mind scolded him. ‘Roman ‘Never Runs From a Challenge’ Adelio, a coward since the year of his birth, 1999.’

“Look, Devon…” he began. Dee stopped laughing immediately, turning to face Roman with a kind of intensity he’d never seen before. “I… you seem nice, but… I don’t… the rest of my life can’t be dictated by this,” his nails trailed over the tattoo. “I’ve seen the aftermath. It… it’s not good.”

Now, it was Devon’s turn to go quiet. Or it would have been, if he weren’t such a loudmouth. “Alright, I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from,” Carefully, he rolled forward. “And I… while I want a soulmate, it wouldn’t be right for me to force you to have me. All I ask is this.”

Roman cowered at those words. Something bad always came after ‘all I ask.’ What would he want? His number? Sex? Something worse?

“Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“…What?”

Devon smiled, repeating clearly, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

“I-” Had Devon not heard anything he’d just said? “I said I don’t… s-soulmates aren’t something I-”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand. Ignore the tattoo, ignore the colors thing, that never happened. I like you, no-name kid. You seem kind and genuine, not to mention that you’re a thespian and seem to be haunted by the ghosts of your past-” Roman laughed despite himself. “-all things I find incredibly attractive. Soulmate or not, I’d like to get to know you better. So, that said,” Devon folded his hands in his lap, sitting back and smiling that million-watt, gold-fanged smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

And in that moment, that 15 seconds where he was faced with a choice he’d always dreaded having to make, Roman felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow. The panic-induced adrenaline drained from his system and he let out a heaving sigh. He still had two choices, but those choices had changed now. It was no longer a matter of fate. No longer a choice between being guilty or trapped. It was now option A) Go on a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked, or B) Turn down a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked. Well, Roman may have been a stubborn ass sometimes, but he was also incredibly gay.

“…You know what? Okay. One date.” Roman huffed, bouncing a red converse-clad foot on the tile floor.

“Excellent! I only need one more thing from you.”

“Oh?” Roman smirked, “Well, ask away.”

“Would you mind tossing your name now?”

Roman opened his mouth to acquiesce before promptly snapping it shut with a sly little smile and pulling a paper towel from the dispenser over the sink. “Sure thing.” A moment later, a slightly-crumpled tissue landed on Dee’s lap as Roman walked past. “I’ll see you around, Devon.”

Dee hastily smoothed out the paper, finding two lines of text written in broad, loopy block letters.

Roman Adelio

+1 618-0339-8875

“I can’t wait, Roman.”

— — — — —

“And that, my son, is how I met your father!” Roman finished with a flourish, wrapping his arms around Dee’s neck from his place on his husband’s lap. Logan, the ever-curious 7-year-old that he was, clung to Devon’s leg and asked,

“But why did you accept Pa’s date if you didn’t want a soulmate?”

Roman smiled, pulling his son up onto his and Dee’s lap (and chuckling as Devon shoved the pair of them off). “Well, your father was against nazis, so how could I say no?”

“…Daddy, that can’t be where the bar is.”

“It isn’t!” Devon was quick to cut in, playfully smacking Roman on the arm. “What are you teaching our small, impressionable child, Roman?”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Roman yielded. His teasing expression softening as he gazed at Devon. “In truth, I still think soulmates are complete bullsh-” One glare from Devon washed his mouth out. “-I mean, completely fake. Logan, my little piece of stardust, listen to me.” He gathered the small boy in his arms, feeling his tiny heartbeat against his chest. “It is you and you alone who decides who you’re meant to be with. If that person is your soulmate, then that’s beautiful. If not, it’s just as beautiful to love someone else. Do you understand?”

Logan looked up into his father’s eyes, letting a small smile spread across his face before nodding. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good,” With a sigh, Roman stood, planting a tender kiss on Devon’s lips as he did so. “You know, my dear,” He whispered, leaning his forehead against Devon’s. “I may not believe in soulmates, but perhaps, to some extent, I believe in fate.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, my darling, that soulmates or not…I know I was meant to be with you.”

“Daddy! Pa! Gross!” Logan whined, wedging himself in between his fathers in a truly archaic act of rebellion.

Devon laughed, pushing himself off of his chair to make a wiggly little cuddle pile on the floor. The three of them fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces, each from different puzzles but all cut from the same mold. They may not have been what they were “supposed” to be, but they were still able to make something truly beautiful.

And that was enough.

[itsyaboikeeen]

Closure: The Story of My First Love

Ten years.

After 10 long years, I finally had my closure

I guess no one really knew the who, when, where, why and how of my first love.

Who was she?

When did it happen?

Where did I meet her?

How did I fall in love with her?

Why didn’t we work?

This will probably be a long read, so you might as well sit down in a comfortable place when you read this.

I guess, I should probably start from the beginning of my story.

I met my first love when I was on 5th grade. Funny, right?

"How can you say that you fell in love already at that age?", you might say.

She was just a transferee from who knows where. At that time, I never knew that she'd be one of my first and most painful heartbreak. I was so... innocent.

As THE friendly student, I always tried to be close with everybody. And surprisingly, when I met her, we got along really well.

She was such a crybaby, as far as I can remember. But, when she cries or when she gets mad, everybody shuts up and listens to her. Badass.

You see, I was raised strictly by my parents. I always had to focus on my studies, even after class. I rarely slacked off at home. I was always serious about examinations and studying.

But, when I met her, I learned how to loosen up. She made me see things in a way that I've never seen that way before. She made me appreciate all these little things, around me. She made me realize a lot of things. When I'm with her, I felt like I was myself the most. It was fun, having her around. She was always at my back, observing. She was the Hinata to this Naruto. LOL.

It was by the end of the 5th grade when I 'accidentally' knew she had a crush on me. I was visiting a friend of mine at lunchtime when I heard someone arguing at the visitor's area. When I went inside, I saw her infront of one of her friends, confessing that she has feelings for me. Her friend was teasing her and she was tearing up already. Right then and there, our eyes met, and she immediately cried, shouted and ran away from us. It was so funny... and cute at the same time; I thought.

No one has ever had a crush on me. Not ever. Or at least, told me they did. I always thought there were better... more good-looking guys than me. Why the hell would she ever had a crush on me? At that time, I was very blind and in denial.

After that event, everything became awkward between us. We rarely talked with each other. She always avoided me whenever I tried to talk with her. It was cute. Very cute.

It was not until the 6th grade when we started texting with each other. We talked, and talked. For hours. Every night. I remember using my mom's phone to text with her so I had to be sneaky as fuck.

I think my mom had an idea, because at one point, she caught a flirt-y-ish text she sent. She asked me later if I have a crush on someone from my class. I straight up denied my feelings and told her I wasn't 'crushing' on anybody.

Maybe I was scared. Until now, maybe I'm still a scaredy-cat. I never had the guts to tell my mom that time that I had a crush on someone, mainly because I thought of it as a distraction to my studies.

And still, after graduation, I asked her out.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

This boi rushing.

So, guess what happened?

She laughed.

She just... laughed. And completely changed the topic. But, I never gave up. She said she wasn't ready for that. So, I made a promise with her. Cheesy as it may be, I told her my heart will always be hers. I even went as far as telling her, 10 years from that day... if she's still single, I would marry her.

Have you ever had that feeling? That rush. That strong beat from your heart, shouting: I want to be with her. So bad. I want to be there when she laughs. Or when she cries. I want to see her happy every time.

Is this what having 'butterflies in your stomach?' felt, I asked myself.

I was at the edge of the cliff... ready to fall. Ready to fall in love. But, she held me back. She pushed me back, rolling down the hill, and into a deep, dark, and cold sea. Eventually, things got cold between us. We entered high school, trying to forget what he had.

Fast forward to first-year high school. She and I were in the same class. There were a lot of amazing transferees, competing to be top of the class. Typical Asian setting.

The pressure to be at the top was immense since majority of the students who were in that class were elementary achievers. Valedictorians, salutatorians, and honor students. I was very occupied that year.

Throughout that year, she had a "friendly" relationship with this guy who I think had a crush on her. I could smell his intentions, reeking from his enormous nose. I'm sorry dude, if you are reading this. Hahaha. But I doubt that.

I was really jealous of him. She was blind about it.

He held her hands all the time, even when they're next to each other in class. She leaned on him, whenever she took a nap. They hangout after class before they go home. Go to recess together. They might as well kiss when they see each other first thing in the morning.

*sighs*

I think I did confront her about it, but we only ended up fighting. I convinced myself I was just terribly infatuated with her. The year ended, and the guy she was with left our school for personal reasons. I didn't care.

Summer 2013. I got a text from her. She was going to see her mom for a long time. We started texting each other again. It was only a matter of days when I found myself, falling for her again. You fragile motherfucker.

My shield was up. I'm clothed with armor. And she freaking drops good morning and good nights like freaking nuclear bombs.

Up until now, I've kept all of her texts in my old Nokia phone, that I can't charge anymore. I should probably get that deleted.

I saw her pictures online that summer. She looked so happy. She was an angel.

An angel of death, I mean.

I was so excited to see her on the first day of class.

I felt like my heart would burst the moment I see her.

*Kriiiiing kriiiiing*

The school bell rang. But, she didn’t show up that morning. I can overhear her close friends asking each other where she was. Maybe she didn't plan to go to school today, or maybe she wasn’t still here. I thought.

The morning classes continued that day and I couldn't help myself but think about her. I almost gave up from thinking about her when one of our classmates shouted.

Our classmate was looking at our school gate, screaming her name. She was late. Verrrrrrrrrrry late.

Everyone in our class stood up and looked outside the window. She was running across our school court towards the room. And when she entered the room, her friends came running towards her. Her best friend gave her a solid hug. I think she gave each and every close friend of hers a hug. She greeted everyone... except me.

Heh.

She didn't even look me in they freaking eye. I... couldn't approach her. The teacher tried to take control of the class, and our class resumed.

I think it was days after that, before we started talking again. But, it was just casual talk. Dull. Very dull. "Isang tanong, isang sagot" [One question, one answer], as we call it here in the Philippines.

I was so frustrated. I couldn't understand her.

Whyyy? I mean... whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy???

I think it was three or four months after that when I learned that she was going out with someone, again. This time, she was going out with the cousin of the guy she called her "guy bestfriend" from first year. He was in our class, too.

This time, their relationship was very discreet. Everyone in our class knew. It was like a big slap in my face. I was beyond creepy at that time. I lowkey look at them sometimes when no one's watching me. Getting more jealous each passing time.

I was already thinking dozen of ways how to kill that guy. I was filled with... rage. I even fought the guy, over her. Now that I'm thinking of it, it was quite hilarious. I kept on telling the guy that she and I were in love with each other, but then he argued if we were really into each other, then why was she with him? And I... didn't know the answer, too. I stepped back. At that point, I asked myself.

Do I really look like just a rebound to her? Maybe I am.

Was she just using me? Maybe she was.

I was so confused. I thought we had something. Right then and there, I decided to give up. And move on.

Months later, they broke up. I didn't bother knowing why.

My friends kept on telling me to move on.

"Babae lang yan." (It's just a girl), they said.

But, she wasn't JUST a girl to me.

To me, she was indispensible.

Irreplaceable.

She was one of a kind.

I fear that I may never be able to find someone like her.

But, I had to. I had to start moving on.

The school year ended. We barely talked with each other. The only time we had interaction were during group works. And we had to be 'professional' about it. I was. And she was, too.

There were times when we had to do a stage plays. We often played as a broken married couple. There would always be a scene where we would fight each other. Typical husband-abuses-wife scene. She would cry. She was great at that. Convincing. It seemed like it was almost true when she cried. Everyone got swayed by her acting. And then, she would slap me. Really hard.

As an actor, of course, I had to be professional about it. But damn. Her slap stinged. It was as if it was filled with sadness... and anger. And I liked it.

Don't think weirdly about it. Haha. I didn't like-like it cause I was masochistic.

I liked it cause it was less painful.

It was less painful than what I was feeling deep inside. At least with her hand on my face, even for just a millisecond, I felt a response from her. She never replies or replied to my texts that year the way she did years ago.

You see, a slap in a face would sting. A strong slap in the face would make your head numb for seconds. But her slap... her slaps made my numb heart beat.

We completely ignored each other throughout 3rd year. Hell, I couldn't even remember a single memory of her that year. We never interacted beyond necessary.

Whenever I heard her name, it rings through my ear and into my heart, then pierces it like needles for acupunctures. And trust me, it wasn't therapeutic.

Summer 2014. Our high school life was nearing to an end. It was during this time when I started to reflect on the things I did during my high school year. And one of the things that I would say I wanted to resolve was my messy ‘relationship’ with her.

So... I started texting her again. I called sometimes. And, we talked about it. I even remember a time when my cousin caught me crying in their bedroom cause we were confessing and all that romantic shit. I looked like shit, I think.

I re-confessed my feelings for her. She reciprocated. And that time, I asked her... again. The same question I asked her 4 years ago to that day.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Guess what?

She laughed.

And then... she said yes.

My heart skyrocketed.

I couldn't comprehend what she just said. I feel like I was the luckiest guy in the world at that time. But, you'll probably get mad at me because of what you'll be hearing next.

After one week, I broke up with her.

Until to this day, I still didn't understand myself why I did it.

Was I trying to play her? No.

Was it because the thrill of the chase was over? No.

Was it because I wanted to hurt her? Maybe.

I couldn't explain myself. I kept on excusing myself with questions like: "Was everything worth it?" "Is she serious about this?" "What if everyone knew?"

Was I scared? Yes.

Did I think things through before doing it? Maybe not.

But, it is what it is. Of course, she got mad. I broke up with her two weeks before classes started. Unfortunately, we got separated into different classes on our senior year. And on one occassion, we confronted each other and said face-to-face that we didn't have feelings with each other anymore. But, I lied.

Seeing her rarely helped me forget about her every now and then. I eventually learned that a lot of guys were courting her, but I barely cared anymore.

Barely.

Seeing her, after I took a step back, it made me realize what a fool I am for letting her go.

Well, her friends did tell me to distance myself from her, if I couldn't commit. So I did. I think I wasn't ready for commitment that time. I was too preoccupied. Maybe I didn't want to be with anyone that time. I don't know. But I was an asshole for popping that question if I was that unsure.

Graduation day, her mom came back from Canada. I learned that she was going to be visiting Canada soon. And by visiting, she was going to take a VERY long vacation.

So, on the day of my birthday, I invited all of my classmates to my grandma's house to celebrate my graduation, too. I wanted her to come.

Almost all of my friends and classmates went, but she didn't show up.

It was nearly 7 ‘o clock in the evening. I called her. She said her mom was preparing for them to leave already and that she was busy.

She hung up on me.

I had no choice. I had the courage and audacity to call her mom, and invite her to come. I really wanted to see her.

(The reason why I have contact with her mom is a long story. But, we were close. I think. Hahahaha.)

Past 7PM, they showed up. Her parents met my mom and my family. And then, we left the scene to the rooftop.

My little cousins were playing around us. Observing. Meddling. They were curious who she was. I never brought any girl to our house before. And no girl has every visited our house past 7PM.

We ate supper. It was almost romantic, if only my cousing weren't there.

Eventually, they left us.

She was silent. I was, too. The lights were dim that night, but her face glimmered below the starry sky night. It was a very good night. I didn't see any clouds. I was so nervous.

This was the first time I was ever with her... alone, and no one watching.

Just the two of us.

I didn't know who would make the first move? I thought of talking, but I didn't know where to start. I didn't know what to say. I just looked at her, and she looked at me.

Right before I was about to start talking, my mom called us. They told me they need to leave already. I didn't get the chance to talk with her. Or even talk things properly.

They left that night, with me... hanging again... on a forgotten promise.

A year later, I was in college already. And we still talked with each other when she went to Canada. I kept asking her when is she coming back. She always lied about it. She never went back.

Throughout college, I still dreamt of her sometimes. Wishing she was back. But, I eventually forgot about her. There were a lot of times when she and I had "withdrawals".

Sometimes, I would tell her I miss her, and then she would leave me on seen. There are other times when she asked me if we still had a chance. And sometimes, we end up wondering on each other’s ‘what ifs’.

We couldn't seem to end our relationship.

Who knows? Maybe it was still possible.

But, she really broke me. She messed me up. I find it hard to find someone new, because I always assume that things would end up the same. Sometimes, I think I'll never love the same way again.

Two months ago to this date, I was really having a bad day. A bad week, even. Or maybe a bad month. This corona thing messed up my plans for the year. I mean, cmon... it messed up everything for us.

So, I was back in my apartment, resting... all alone. My roommate has gone home to our province, and I was spending my time alone. She messaged me on Facebook. I was pleasantly surprised. And I immediately told her, I wanted to video call her. Surprisingly, she said yes. It was midnight where she lived and it the sun was high here.

I called and she answered. She didn't look like what she looked like before. It was a very long call. We talked for hours, reminiscing about our relationship. What I did wrong. What she did wrong. What she really felt. What I felt about it. I even played her a song. Some of it were our favorites:

'Simpleng Tao' by Gloc 9

'We Could Happen' by AJ Rafael

'Girl Running Around In My Dreams' by Tyrone Wells;

and many more.

I had fun talking with her.

In the end, we talked about what mattered the most that time. Accepting that we have held onto something that can never happen anymore. At least at the moment. We decided to stay friends now, and I talk to her every now and then.

Looking back, I can say I learned a lot from that 'relationship'. And it's something that I wouldn't forget even to my death bed. I hurt her a lot. What we talked about for the rest of that day shall remain a secret for me and her.

If there's one thing I learned that I would like to share it would be:

“If you feel like you saw that special someone already, don't be afraid and seize the moment. Don't waste another time of yours of not being with that special someone.”

If you're still reading this to this point, thank you for listening to my story. You probably had a lot of time to kill. Well, I wrote this for myself anyway so I can look back at something in the future.

There were probably a lot of details I missed from the whole story. This was just my story, after all.