#yeah id be a little miffed too

[tmntxthings]

I saw this and i was like “aw yeah, this is happening”

yandere 2012 Donnie

“calm down Donnie there just friends… just friends”

He steadied himself against his worktable, barely keeping himself together as revolting thoughts plagued his mind, he tried to block them out with facts, nothing beats facts.

“they wouldn't leave you over some [REDACTED], they told you so themselves”

He caught his breath in his throat trying to breathe through his nose though he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Besides, their friends couldn't hold a candle to what id do for them”

The thought brought an eerie smile to his face only witnessed by the dark corners of his lab, the thought of what he'd do to his enemies set his mind ablaze. Unlike them, he could keep you safe.

At this point your friends are unknowingly on thin ice, if they make the mistake of hurting you or puting you in danger then they're gone. Donnie will comfort you in the late evenings of the night over the loss of your friend secretly muling over his victory.

If you confront him about his concerning behavior then he will convince you that the bad perceptions you have of him are not of your own but of others, trying to plant this poisonous seed in your mind that he's in the wrong when that's “clearly” not the case.

He won't be too miffed if you choose to hang out with his brothers when you're at the lair, he loves them! But there are times when they can really get on his nerves, he might need some alone time then even from you. Though sometimes your presence is greatly warranted.

He craves your touch, that delicate smile beaming up at him as you two cuddle underneath the sheets after a long day, he couldn't imagine a world without you nor his family. So that's why he's forced to use methods that his dutiful brother would call “unorthodox” against their backs.

…

It wouldn't take too long after his misadventures for his brothers to catch on to what he's doing, although Mikey always had a head start. He's seen the ways he looks at you and the ways he talks about you, it isn't too unfamiliar with the way he thought of April ones upon a time. But this felt different, morally different, in a way Mikey couldn't describe it without being brushed off and told it's just another puppy love crush Donnie's going through. They've seen it before, why would this be different?

That was until Leo discovered his plans for the Purple Dragons, he leapt into action running to one of Donnie's supposed locations hoping to find him. The map that the turtle had created was ingrained into the leader's head, mentally cursing when the purple bandana was nowhere in sight. He had little to no time as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, although the scarcity of Leo's other two brothers made it harder to track down Donnie but he doubted that they could keep up with him with how fast he was running. The wind blew violently against his ears as his heart beat pounded in his ribcage, it felt like it was about to burst wide open. The sounds were overwhelming, but they were interrupted when he heard a gurgling sound. Right beneath the building he was perched on, in the dark alleyway he saw that familiar color worn by his tallest brother. He was holding someone tight in his hold until they became limp in his arms. Only then when the man had stopped breathing did he sense the others presens, Donnie stared up at Leo the same way he used to do when they were smaller. But this was wrong, not to mention the specs of crimson that painted his face.

Leo could feel his heart drop at the mere sight of his eyes, for a second, just a second he saw something foreign in them that Leo hadn't seen before, and it scared him to his core. The young curiosity seemingly lost in the dark bags under his eyes from all those sleepless nights scheming, planning his assaults. There was no trace of the old Donnie Leo knew. But he wouldn't lose hope in him this easily, not his little brother.

Ooooooo yeah 😌 that picture stoked a lot of 2k12 Yan!Donnie material heheh! Donnie you’ve gone so far off the deep end, killing people in the name of “protecting” reader when really it’s for the purpose of keeping them close and eliminating anyone who may take reader away!!! Ahhhhh Leo looking at Donnie and finding him unrecognizable to the brother he knew 😭

[multiselves]

ahmm idk if you already seen it , but antis rq took your term , " reclaimed " , and put it on a wiki , without any credit to you , and with the same definition and name .

Idc about that. I don't own the identity and it doesn't surprise me. I'm just kind of miffed that they're trying to "reclaim" it. It doesn't need to be reclaimed?? It's an identity? That's not how that works? Everyone can id however they like.

I'm generally anti crediting coiners because I think the practice shows "ownership" and is kind of dumb. So I mean if anything they ended up unintentionally respecting my wishes lol. I'm mostly apathetic towards what people do with the id so long as the term is used as intended, this way it seems to be reaching more people

When I coined the term, I wanted to make an inclusive term for ANYONE who felt it described them. I wanted to put a name to an experience that I know many beings have. It really was a creation for the community and this is apparently what the community wants. Radqueers can keep using it anyway, even if antis think they own the term

But yeah I'm also just a little too jaded right now to care much. I haven't used tumblr for ages, watching this transpire is almost entertaining. They can argue against a nonexistent force if they like, I really don't care

The way I see it they're trying to un-transid a transid and you know what, let them. If that enables semantic-arguers to use the label that describes them, then let them. So long as they don't go their whole life wondering why they're different

[chuuyadelune]

i’ve many conflicting thoughts on the BSD S5 finale but i shall be reserving (my full) judgement until the manga fleshes things out/clarifies it. because. lmao. Uhhhh

anyways, thought id make a list of things id like to see going forward to keep myself a lil more optimistic about the following chapters. as well as some Other Thoughts surrounding the anime:

- fyodor’s death (because it felt… unsatisfying! imo! there was still so much that could’ve been done w him)

- off of the back of that, whatever the hell SKK had going on (i thought the twist was funny but also. i was left very miffed. to put it lightly)

- more between the dynamic/link between fyodor and fukuchi (!!!!! this is a BIG one)

- SIGMA ?!?!? sigma. yeah. what the hell was up with leaving her there (and her getting all the info on fyodor if not for something big!)

- more on fyodor and nikolai’s dynamic

- more on teruko (just. yeah. she has me very intrigued)

- generally i just think that fukuchi’s goals/motives deserved more time

my complaints aside, i honestly do think the manga will do things a little differently/more in-depth, since bones probably just wanted to end the season on a high? mostly because personally i have the impression that the anime team were probably working with some of asagiri’s vague ideas/outlines. because again not all of it feels strictly on them! but also… i feel that asagiri can definitely do better.

that said, i personally don’t exactly expect the best/most-complex-ever nuanced takes on the characters and story from the anime given its track history. so like, for me, this ending feels on-brand for the anime, weirdly enough? considering that they did… rush through the vampire arc and therefore remove some of the nuance of the story. so. again. i can’t complain too much. i shall reserve my nitpicking for the worst-case scenario that this is the same route the manga goes.

anyways… waiting til october to see what else happens 👍

[ennaku-sirri-da]

Well it's clear I'm a LITTLE ( /j) biased to certain characters but I don't wanna leave everyone else out! So here's some Tiff stuff. We don't really have so much backstory for any of the Habiticians so I MADE Stuff UP. 🫢( surprised hand over mouth emote) GASPPPPPP

[ ID: Ingame PNG sprite of Tiff Webber. She stands with her hands behind her back with a neutral face. End ID]

Hmm well OK I think she and I share a certain trait and that is absolutely LOVING Monsters!!! ALL kinds...the ones who are almost comprehensible, the piles of goop, the birdlike ones, the ones as old as the Sun, claws, scales, pulsating, thousand-eyed, hidden in broad daylight, cute ones, mimics..... SOOO MANY

She has something of an interest in coding as well, so she's made a like. You know those online games where you make a creature, grow it up, interact with other people's creatures and make friends and stuff. Yeah, she codes one of those..and keeps adding to it over time! It has so many features now. Kamal's followed it since his college days atleast as a stressbusting thing and I think he'd be pretty excited if he met her later at the Habitat and Knew ! If I remember right Tiffs a humble sort so maybe she kept herself anonymous.

And luckily, during her teen years or such she does meet someone who has an interest in "monsters" like she does. Meet...online. On a chatroom. However this stranger's goals are different(in a way that draws her in), instead of just a passing fancy, she believes in them with the same intensity as Tiff ..and she wants to go out there and find them. ( there's something about the family business being at stake ). Her conviction is ...shaky, and she's clearly going through a rough patch( in regards to obtaining basic necessities, even) but with time as their friendship blossoms, this stranger grows clearer and stronger and Tiff begins to feel more confident and happy, letting her wildly colorful, surreal imagination run free, sharing her ideas and input too to someone who actually listens. Soon, she is stranger no more. Mirphy Fotoparat, certainly not forgettable...

They end up becoming quite close later on. Enough to live together in a space cramped with memorabilia. Not married, just very close friends. They're both each other's space to wind down and relax-- Also Mirphy is always keeping life exciting with new endeavoring for Tiff, is patient enough to let her feel out her many hard-to-understand-even-for-her emotions-- and Tiff ensures that she doesn't get too in over her head doing all on her own sometimes, as responsible as Mirphy is herself.

And just for the funnies I like to think Tiff is like RIDICULOUSLY calm. UN- FAZED. ( Not always!) She will get miffed at the Mothman for trailing mud into their house. Yup, you thought she was the most relatively normal one in the Habitat but she's a weird girl too /hj

[exosupport]

My past is something left in broad strokes in my source material, and a lot of fanon and the like I see seems to paint it as overall happier than it was. What I remember of my childhood as a living experiment and prototype weapon, a life of constant dehumanization and abuse at the hands of all but one, is something I see often depicted as an isolated but loving family life. I suppose, in a sense, it's a desire to see me happy, but it still hurts to constantly see a performance of a life I was denied in fan material.

It hurts also to have a lost loved one be treated by your source as little more than a prop in your arc. I loved Maria deeply, I can reach back to countless memories of moments we shared and promises we made, but within my source media she's little more than an outline of a person I might have known. Many even see the pain her loss still leaves in me as a joke, or empty angst.

- Shadow the Hedgehog

Yeah, you definitely aren't alone in that one. I was an experimental zombie and my so called uncle only raised me to be his servant and because he saw me as replaceable tried to kill me. More than once.

Too much of the fandom wants to make him the good guy and most of them pretend that I don't exist at all but plenty of them depict our relationship as healthy, who change nothing of what he did to me, but force us into more familial roles to make him look better and it's an insult to everything I went through.

I am so sorry for your loss, and that because your counterpart/source is fictional, you encounter so many jokes and disrespect about it. Your pain is legitimate, your grief is valid, and you're not alone.

[ID: A banner with a Sanrio theme. It says, "We know the feeling" in a decorative font. The background is colored with a blue to purple gradient with the texture of realistic stars over it. There's two images, one at the either side of the banner.

The image on the left has My Melody, a white rabbit who wears a pink hood over her ears with a bow on it, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling listlessly.

The one on the right has My Melody but she's being deformed slightly into a swirl-like shape with her body blurring at the edges. She has a vaguely miffed, slightly sad, expression on her face. End ID]

[chibi-writes]

I read the dorm leader and vice dorm leaders child chewing on something. But what about a child s/o who turns into a child due to mishap (I'm looking at ace and grim) and the dorm leader looking after the child mc. Thank you. If it's okay, can i make a request again like this but with vice dorm leaders next time?

Feel free to make requests anytime I have my requests open! I’ll usually be happy to write it!

Riddle Rosehearts

- “Trappola? Grim? Explain why s/o a child.” You could kinda sorta tell Riddle wasn’t happy with the incident. 

- You kick yourself out of Ace’s arms (effectively getting him in the gut, look, kids kicking you HURT man) and ran over to Riddle.

- “Widdle!” Holy shit Riddle is going to explode cause oh god that was adorable do it again your smile is so cute oh Great Seven help him.

- Riddle agreed to take care of you, under the condition this never happen again. And Grim and Ace score 100 on their next test.

- Riddle definitely had the help of Trey and Cater while taking care of you. 

- It was a breeze so long as you didn’t cry. When you did, Riddle would panic and only have a vague idea of what to do. Usually calms you down by indulging you in hugs and some small snacks.

Leona Kingscholar

- This one is less Leona taking care of you and more Ruggie. 

- Leona sees Ruggie hold up lil you and he just kinda... shrugs it off. Now you’re another Cheka, and I don’t think he has the patience for that

- You may or may not have affectionately dubbed Leona and Ruggie as “Weeona and Wuggie”

- Something that does happen (rarely) is when Leona naps and you escape Ruggie, you’ll curl up by Leona.

- If he happens to wake up, he’ll raise a brow, pat you on the head (maybe) and go back to sleep.

- At least like this, you aren’t making any noise.

Azul Ashengrotto

- “Ah Trappola. Did you come back for another dea-” Boom. A Child.

- Blinks for a minute to process what happened. Ace explains himself and Grim and Azul looks a little... how shall I say... miffed.

- Azul lets out a huff and agrees to take care of you. (He would have anyway) 

- His slightly sour mood is does a complete 180 once he hears, “A- zu-.... ZUZU!”

- hOLY SHIT YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO KILL HIM- j/ he’s crying it’s too cute oh god someone help him Jade call the ambulance he’s having a cardiac arrest OH GREAT SEVEN HELP HIM hj/

- At first he lets Floyd (gently) play around with you to tucker you out a bit. It works wonders when dealing with kids trust me. And when you’re finally tired, he’ll let you rest right beside him on one of the VIP room couches. 

- He might even sing you to sleep. After all he does have a wonderful voice. 

Kalim Al Asim

- Jamil comes into the room holding little you and Kalim wants an explanation asap. Why are you little? WHAT HAPPENED

- Jamil explains it’s a temporary de-aging potion caused by someone spilling one on you by mistake.

- “Ka-...... K- KAWIM.” comes out of your mouth as you point to Kalim. Oh god his heart. Kalim’s poor heart someone help him it’s too cute. 

- Kalim offers to help take care of lil you (you’re his s/o and all) with the help of Jamil. (Jamil mostly there to supervise just in case)

- God forbid you cry. That would launch both Kalim and Jamil into panic mode because I highly doubt either have much experience with little kids. Would attempt to calm you down with food or head pats and hugs. It works. surprisingly enough.

- Kalim and you runs around and play until you’re tuckered out and before a nap you eat and next thing you know Kalim and you are passed the hell out on his (huge) bed. 

- Y’all are too cute I swear- Jamil TAKE A PICTURE TO IMMORTALIZE THIS ALREADY-

Vil Schoenheit

- When Rook comes into the Pomfiore dorm holding a child, Vil just kinda like “Why... Why do you have a child Rook?” Rook explains that’s you but someone spilt a potion on you and now need someone to take of you.

- Vil is fine taking care of you just don’t destroy anything. Hides all the makeup if he has any accessible or just lying around.

- Would offer to play basically Runway Model. (y’know when you were a kid and you would pretend to be a model regardless of whether you were dressed up or not? Yeah that) 

- You wouldn’t give any sort of cute nickname, since Vil is a bit of a hard name to mess up, but every time you said his name he just go “ok. That’s cute.” and pat you on the head. 

- Puts you to bed before working on some of his studies. He checks up on you every now and again with soft smile. ‘How cute’

Idia Shroud

- Well, first things first, Idia already doesn’t understand why there’s a child in his room other than Ortho. Second, why does said child concern him?

- Wait that’s you... Ah... okay... WAIT WHAT-

- Idia knows nothing about real life children but the internet does! Does little quick research just in case, and proceeds to attempt to take care of you. “I- Id- Iida!” Close but no kid. It’s adorable though. You try again. “I- Idiwa!” Close but double the adorable! 

- Accidentally focuses more on taking care of you than himself throughout the day but it’s fine Ortho’s there to at least remind him that food and water are something he needs to y’know SURVIVE

- Great seven help him if you cry. He’ll try and not panic cause Noise, but calms you down relatively enough to get you to eat or drink something. 

- but anyway, distracts you with video games. Bright colors keep you entertained enough right?

- You constantly laugh at the scenes and animation sequences and even some of Idia’s own commentary. 

-You kinda get sleepy and drift off while he’s focusing on a boss. Once he’s done he sees you napping and puts a blanket over you to keep you warm. His room is probably hella cold cause of all the computer stuff.

Malleus Draconia

- Lilia walks in with lil you and Malleus is confused and amused. “Why is a human child here?”

- Lilia states you failed to make a certain potion with your lab partners and it resulted in this. Ah. That makes sense. 

- He picks you up, basically beaming at the adorable child of man before him. You smile back, then point to him and say “M- Mm- Mal-” “Take your time little one-” “MAL MAL” Great Seven help him that was so cute holy shit 

- Happily takes care of you (he could reverse it with magic but this is cuter and it’ll be over by tomorrow so why not y’know)

- Is really really good about taking care of you. You rarely cried and that was when Malleus had to grab something from the other room but other than that, it was great!

- You fall asleep after awhile and Malleus stays with you, keeping you close, which leads to an adorable moment for Lilia to capture in picture form.

[gumnut-logic]

The Fight (Bit 16)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10 | Bit 11a | Bit 11b | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16

Dashing out the door again.

-o-o-o-

Gordon held out his hand over the top of Anna and grinned. De frowned with a ‘what the-?’ expression at Anna before shaking that hand.

“Pleased to meet you.” It was said in preference to a number of sentences, none of them polite. Her sister could restrain herself when necessary.

Anna had to smile. “He’s harmless.”

That earned her an inquisitive but somewhat miffed glare. “Harmless? Hmph.”

Her smile became a grin.

His glare only increased. “So, Ms K, how did I not know you had a twin sister?”

“Hmm, perhaps because I never mentioned it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t in the curriculum?” She was getting sick of peering up at everything. It was time to sit up.

She was stiff from lack of movement and De was there immediately, helping her shift position and untangling the IV line. A few grunts and finally the world was better aligned.

Gordon was wearing a purple tracksuit.

Interesting choice. And he had the nerve to comment on De’s hair?

“How is Alan?”

That sobered him and she almost felt sorry for bringing it up.

She had to know.

Carnelian brown eyes darted to hers, to her sister’s and back. “He’s awake, as I said. Swathed in bandages.” She lost eye contact as he looked down and her duty of care flared. Gordon was still a kid and his brother had been attacked and seriously injured. He hid it well under bluster and humour, but in that moment, she saw through it all.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

But then what could she say? She didn’t know anything. She couldn’t say Alan was going to be okay...she didn’t KNOW.

But there was something she did know. “He’s strong, Gordon.”

Those eyes flashed a vulnerability that broke her heart. Gordon had lost his father just as much as Alan had. He was still a kid.

But it was hidden almost immediately, a sparkle appearing in its place. “Oh, I know he is. Especially after eating Grandma’s baked beans. I’ve shared a room with the guy.”

Anna smiled just a little and squeezed his hand.

Those eyes held hers in smart-assed defiance.

Quiet. “I’ll take your word on that one.”

He grinned. “Always a wise choice, Ms K.” And he turned to grin at De. “So, Ms K’s Sis, any embarrassing stories you can share? Alan needs cheering up and I would love to oblige him.”

De straightened in her seat. That baffled expression returned to her face. “You taught this guy?”

Anna snorted. “Tried to.”

“She did an excellent job, if I may say so myself.”

Anna rolled her eyes and lay back on the pillow, surprised she felt so exhausted already. She hadn’t even done anything.

“Anna?” De stood up.

Anna held up a hand. “I’m just tired. I’ll be fine.”

“They said you had a nasty concussion and that it would take time to right itself.”

Great.

“How much time?”

“They don’t know. It varies, apparently.”

Great. She was an impatient patient. Hated sitting around. She had too many things she wanted to do.

“You can come and stay with me and Deni, if you like.”

Deni and the dogs. Could be fun. She adored her sister and her partner.

But there were issues. “I’ll think about it.”

Gordon was eyeing the both of them. “I guess I’ll let you two work things out.” He stood up.

She let his hand go, but then something occurred to her.

“Gordon?”

He turned to her.

“I’ve got a funny story for you.”

Curiosity took him over. “Yes?”

“Guess what ‘De’ is short for.”

He stared at her before turning to De. “What?”

Anna grinned at her sister, grabbed her hand and clearly indicated she wasn’t allowed to tell. “You have to guess.”

His eyes widened. “How? Why?”

“Because it’s funny.” To watch him squirm. “And no cheating. No asking your brothers or looking it up. You have to guess. Consider it a learning experience.”

For a second there she thought he wouldn’t bite, but sure enough that glint appeared in his eye. “Okay. What’s the prize?”

“Prize?”

“What do I get if I guess correctly?”

“Oh, satisfaction.” She grinned. He was well and truly hooked now. Add a bit of mystery and Gordon couldn’t help himself. She had used this technique so many times to get him moving with his studies. In fact, it was his father who had first suggested it many years ago. The key to Gordon was the need for discovery. He always needed to find out.

It didn’t take much.

“Deanna? Deidre? Dena?”

De was smiling and shaking her head.

“Detroit? Dexter? Danielle?”

Anna grinned madly. This was going to be fun.

-o-o-o-

It quickly became annoying. Gordon was very determined and eventually De had to kick him out of the room to the sound of every name starting with ‘D’ the boy could think of.

She slept after that. Which apparently was a good thing because when she woke, she was feeling much better. It wasn’t until that point she had enough brain to ask how long she had been in hospital.

“Three days?!” She was sitting on the edge of the bed preparing to get dressed.

“You’ve been a bit out of it, hon.” De’s expression hinted at what her sister had been through during that time.

“I hardly remember anything. I thought a day, maybe?”

“John called me the moment you were rescued. I met the ambulance at the hospital. You don’t remember?”

Anna shook her head.

“They hit you almost as hard as they hit Alan Tracy.”

“I want to see him.” She was ambulatory. The IV had been removed. She was leaving today.

She had to see him.

“He’s next door.”

“What?!”

“We’re in the secure wing of the hospital. International Rescue’s security has been checking in regularly. You’re under some serious protection, Sis. I’ve had to show ID and run my hand through a scanner to get in to see you every time.” An indrawn breath. “I have to say I would never want to get on the bad side of Scott Tracy. The man is a hovering storm cloud. At one point he thought I was you and started ordering me back to bed. You do not want to piss him off, trust me.”

Her last memory of Scott was him picking up his little brother from that dirty bed. His tenderness had been heart breaking.

Quiet. “They hurt his little brother.”

De visibly swallowed. “Yeah, they did. And my sister, too.”

Anna grabbed De and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

Muffled against her shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“I need to see Alan.” He wasn’t her little brother and she didn’t want to intrude, but he was her student and...and...the last time she had seen him, he had been so hurt.

De lifted her head from Anna’s shoulder and frowned at her. “Okay. We can knock on his door and see if he is awake.” The frown deepened. “But you tell me if you feel woozy. And sit down. It is only pure luck you didn’t end up as bad as him. You have two contusions on the back of your head. Apparently, you wouldn’t go down with just one.” She reached over and brushed hair Anna’s hair back behind her ear. “They hurt you so badly.”

“I’m okay, De.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. That guy better not step in front of my car. He won’t live to regret it.”

Anna drew her sister into another hug. “I’m okay.”

De grunted, obviously with some disbelief.

“I will be okay.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I will.”

De’s arms tightened around her. “The Tracys are going to crucify that guy and I’m going to watch.”

Her sister’s tone was almost savage. But then you generally didn’t want to piss off De any more than a Tracy. She had a temper.

“I need to see Alan.”

De sighed and let her go. “C’mon, then, let’s go see the billionaires next door.”

It took two layers of security. The one outside her door and the one outside Alan’s.

The black sash with the IR symbol had her pausing, staring. The man wasn’t Kyrano, but the black...

“Anna?”

She was holding her hand above the hand scanner, frozen. “Uh, sorry.” She placed her palm flat on the glass surface. The laser flickered across her skin and the machine beeped.

The security officer nodded and opened the door.

Inside was a room similar to hers, except this one had two beds in it. Her eyes latched onto Alan, sitting up in one,

The lights above him lit up the remains of his golden hair.

-o-o-o-

Next

[fisherfurbearer]

fuck sam walmarts

and fuck management

I’ve had it. Left the store in tears tonight.

as some peoople probably/hopefully know. walmart closes at 6 pm on christmas eve. no one actually gets to leave at 6 becuase of shitty last minute customers. but it is what it is.

this. is really personal but im honestly SO close to just. killing myself? so who cares

basically. had a really really bad last few days. spent a lovely time with family (jessies family, his oma and opa and sister and parents and it was just a great time. theyre more family to me than most of my blood family) but it did make me Sad in Deep ways as we dont know if this is going to be our last christmas with his oma who isnt doing so good. and it just twisted me up a little but was othewrsiwse a great day. but then sunday i just...had a huge breakdown in the morning and decided to use my accomodation (i get 2 excused absenses a month) to cool down and gte myself together. slept a lot. woke up adn got a lot done, felt great, then i CRASHED really really bad, got really angry, lashed otu, took like...8-10 sleeping pills...theyre horrific things and im never doing that again...had to sleep for two days after that...felt horrifically sick, in pain, just awful. had repeating nightmares over and over. which has also been wearing me down recently. wasnt able to work monday either because i still couldnt stand and between the pills and the depression/anxiety and really just. felt like the world was ending.

decided sometime last night id just...try my best to make it in today, work my shift (really long 9-6, knowing i wouldnt leave on time nad htisis my first time working in 5 days now...which is rough...) and if i can get through this, i have another couple days off in a row after that (schedules fault, not mine...do feel awful i missed 3 days before that though...) and we can just. get back on track

today i DID go to work, jessie drove me in

i worked. a long time. im supposed to get a break every 2 hours and a 1 hour lunch

i gott my first break on timeish.

then i got my lunch 6 hours after i got in. at which time i got “locked out” for not taking my lunch and coudlnt do anything on the registers. i was supposed to get it 4 hours in. its christmas eve and excruciating and im still in pain and tired from my previous days breakdowns, but otherwise?? i did really good. i didnt mind at all that my lunch was so late. i was a little miffed, but its ok. i dont care, so long as i get it eventually. anyway they FINALLY noticed i was locked out and got me coverage and i ended my lunch at 4. things continued ok. worked on self checkout, met a lot of regulars i really like, prevented $200 of theft (HAHA WOW that was really really funny i love preventing petty theft. i prevent so much theft every week its my pride and joy) just did okay. then they had us close self checkout that took a little while. then at 5:00-5:10 or so i went to my Manager/Supervisor/”““People LEad” as walmart is now trying to call them, lets call her manager Y, and i told her i still need my break and will i get it before i leave. she said go to register 4. i asked again hey will i get my break though and she said yeah and i thought to mysel HAHA thats not going to happen but ok

really stupid that after bieng locked out the first time she couldnt give me my break before i openned a register with a line i cant get rid of

anywayy i did ok otherwise for a while

but at 5:25 or so i reminded a CSM “hey i need my break still can i get that?” and she just ssaid yeah well try to get someone and then more time passed so much time. i put through an ask on the register “assistance needed”. waited another 10 minutes. “assistance needed” again. starting to get anxious. its past 5:40. the line is so long. theres so MUCH NOISE. Its SO LOUD. the intercom keeps going off, no one is responding to me, i dont have a mat to stand on so my knees HURT,, im not doing okk

i switch my light to flashing/need assistance and start looking for someone to ask for help. its 5:45, i need my break NOW, i DESERVE IT for workng this long ass shift and they already missed several of my last breaks a week ago AND got me locked out today and im STARTING TO GET ANXIOUS PELASE I JUST WANT MY BREAK SO BAD

nnthgen a csm is passing by im about to lose it, so i tell her CSM J, please i really need my break now PLEASE and im starting to ccry and i try to tell her whats going on but she shushes me and goes and gets sometone

im full on tears at this point, im so strreesed out,,

manager Y and some other snooty manager come over andd. ffkcing. ask me whats wrong. im crying and i try to explain im really really stressed out, i havent had my last break, ive been trying to get someone for so long now, i just really need to leave im so sorry

and theyy just. fckkng

ffcking manager Y jjst ssays ok “ill give you your break” and “this is your last break” and i ssaid?? yeah i knoww?? andd she saidd “next time youre like this, just dont come in”

i quote that completeltyyy....i really lost it then...i cried som muchh

this isnt the first itme she said something like this to meee...

she asked me “why are you CRYING” When i had an anxiety attacki n the store once, when ic cloked in and couldnt get myself together,, she didnt give me time to calm down, she didnt listen as to why, she just said “why are you crying. this is a BUSINESS. you cant be CRYING Here.” and i just said ok ill go home bye and leftt

andd when i tried to get my availability changed from 7-9 to 7-6/7-7 because the random late shifts with 7 am shifts was messing me up really really bad and my doctor thinks i need to hcange it too, she just said “i cant do that. thisi sa BUSINESS.” and she wouldnt listen when i said i might have to quit because of this, this is for my health, im literally scheduled 7-2 every sunday in december, busiest day of the busiest month and you cant even chop TWO HOURS off my weekend availability????

andd i jjst

ive HAD IT with her

ive had ittt

im so ashamed and angry and anxious and i still havent stopped cryingg. she called me over to her again as i was leaving and she blamed me for it. she ssaid a customer was upset that i “Screamed” (ues i raised my voice a little but i wasnt screaming??? also the two customers i was attending to when this was going on and i cried were VERY KIND nad jjst said i was doing a good job and thanked me for being there) and called a manager over (but...csm J got them?? not a customer...??) and i cant be acitng like this, i cant do customer service when im stressed,, and d i should just STAY HOME If im going to be like that

then shee fufkcing toold me i DID IT WRONG, that i “shouldve called someone over” I TOLD HER I DID!!!!! I DID!!!!!!!!!! YOU NAIL INTO MY HEAD IM NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE REGISTER SO I DIDNT, I DID EVERYTHING ELSE I COULD THOUGH!!! I REQUESTED HELP TWICE!! I TURNED MY LIGHT TO FLASHING!!! I TRIED TO CATCH A MANAGER WALKING BY TO HELP ME!!! N OONE LISTENED UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE, I DID EVERYHTING I COULD!! yet she seriously told me to my face that “you didnt call anyone”, “you couldve turned your light to flashing” WHICH I DID and sshee jjst said that i made customers uncomfortable and i cant work like thatt and just stay hhome

ii stayed home sunday because i was having a mjor mental emergencyy.

i came in today because i was feeling better and i took it eaasy and ended up doing a wonderful job and mad eso many people smilea nd fixed so many problems that wouldve otherwise upset a lot of folks and i met my regulars and made old folks smile andd i prevented a lot of theft that no one else wouldve caughtt and i jjstt broke down after 9 hours and not getting a last break and all the chaos of register (WHICH BY THE WAY THEY KNOW I DONT LIKE REGISTER!!! I THRIVE ON SLE FCHECOUT!!! THATS MY JOB TITLE!! THATS WHAT I DO!!!! THEY KNOW THISS!!!!) and HER AVOIDING GIVING ME MY FUCKING BREAK and NOT RESPECTING MY FFUCKING METNAL DISABILITIES LJNASDKAJHDBASJSDNAJSNDKANSD

I JJST DONT KNOW WHAT TO DOO

i really want to die and i really want to never go back but i really loved my job i loved helpting people ii jjst hate her so muchhh and i feel GENUINE DREAD/SEVERE ANXIETY jjst SEEING her nnow

she doesnt CARE about anyone but herself shes a horrible peson i cant tell the store manager though cause she wont care either and manager Y has more clout than me so shell just twist my words and make me out as the bad guy as hte “CRAZY ONE” who cries and gets stressed (FOR COMPLETELY VALID REASONS AFTER BEING PUSHED OVER THE EDGE) even tthough i work SO FFRIKCING HARD and do SUCH A GOOD JOB and asdjanjsdhajshdas

i d ont know what to doo

i cant work another job because no where else pays as much or will let me do self checkout only, because being a cashier stresses me so muchh

ii...really wanntted to grow stuff and make preserves and sell bee products and work with folks raising heritage sheep and make more fiber art andd open a little stall at a local market and sell all that,, and offer more online and do customs andd stuff

i know i could mkae money that wa ybut i ccantt start it so sudenly and im too Broken to do it seriouslyy and i dont even want to HAVE to quit because of ONE PERSON But shes done this so many times now and this is the nfinfal streaww

i jjst dont know what to doo...

i cantt stop cryingg

i cant even enjoy christmas nnow. wanted to see my stepdad and give him his presernt and maybe be ok.

last christmas we had to move because our house was condemned after a fire. now im going to have to lose my job because of a horrible manager who doenst respect my metnal health or anything about me reallyy. and unfortunately im such a failure that i cant. do anything else and if i lose this job ill lse my animla sand i wotnt be able to do anyhtingg andd im jjust fucking trash

goddammit i dont know what to do. i really dont. hhahaaa. i just really want to end it. ive come so far and none of it fucking matters because of thiss fucking horrible manager.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 4 - (totally uninterested.)

I didn’t really know why Harry was in such a bad mood on our Tuesday shift. He’d been fine on Sunday--the last time I saw him--and in fact, he’d been more playful than usual when I told him that Ethan was sure to fall in love with me by Thanksgiving. But now, he barely even looked up at me when I said hello and he certainly didn’t make any effort to help me stack the returns.

So, instead of letting him know that he was pissing me off, I took the returns and my headphones, and headed to go put them all back where they belonged. A minute away from him felt necessary right now.

I’d just made my way to the non-fiction section when I saw Ethan pick a table on the second floor. He was alone, his backpack was the only other occupant of his table as he headed for a water fountain to refill his nalgene.

I figured, though, that this was my chance to get a minute alone with him. Say hi, crack a joke, anything to get this show on the road. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Hanging out with Harry’s friend was fun and all, but the sooner I could just move on to Ethan, the sooner I wouldn’t have to deal with Harry’s mood swings.

With a stack of books in my hands, I made a beeline for his table, placing them down with a thud as he opened up his computer.

“Hey,” I said casually, running a hand through my hair.

“Hey, Nora, what’s up?” He adjusted the hat on his head and smiled up at me, his blue eyes reminiscent of a salt-water pool we’d dip into on our honeymoon.

“Just workin’, y’know,” I motioned around the library, immediately cursing myself for the awkwardness between us. “Mini-golf was great the other night,” I continued. “Even though I came in last.”

He let out a laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, I’m no Niall Horan either--the kid is incredibly good.”

“It’s not even fair that he played, really,” I let out a laugh. “It would have been a much more level playing field without him there.”

“Seriously--he made four hole-in-ones in a single game. I don’t think I’ve made one ever.”

I laughed, appreciative that Ethan and I were engaging much more casually than we used to (which, realistically, was not at all).

I was about to reply when I saw Harry appear behind the elevator doors. He looked around the room, and when his eyes landed on mine, he approached.

Ethan followed my gaze and offered a wave. Harry didn’t look like he was in the mood.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Nothing, Ethan. How’s your homework?” Harry asked the question, but he didn’t really seem interested in the answer.

“Eh, pretty shitty honestly.”

“Babe,” Harry said, completely cutting Ethan out of the conversation. “Want help with those returns?”

“Uh, yeah--okay. I was just on F.”

He took the books in my hands and walked away from us, leaving both Ethan and I to exchange a look of ‘what kind of stick is up his ass?’

I offered Ethan an apologetic smile and turned to follow Harry into one of the rows of books. Once we were behind enough cover, I tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a pointed glare. “What the fuck was that about? Why are you being such a dick?”

He let out a sigh, almost as if he knew I was going to light into him. “I’m not being a dick, Nora.”

“You’re absolutely being a dick. You just blocked! You broke rule five.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, simply placing a book into the shelf between two other spines.

“What is your problem?” I asked again, side stepping as he walked away from me and into another row. I followed behind him, but he didn’t speak until we were deep in the next aisle.

“Just having a shitty day--is that allowed?”

“Why are you having a shitty day?” My arms were crossed and I was getting into the territory of just being curious now--not so much mad about the fact that he definitely broke rule five.

He let out another dramatic sigh and then turned to face me. He had three more books in his hands now, held in front of his chest as some sort of protection. He shook his head and seemed to search for the words to say. “I thought things were going somewhere with some girl but they’re not.”

“They’re not?” I asked, hoping to get more information.

“They’re not,” he said again.

“How do you know?”

He shook his head again--almost as if he were annoyed by my questions. He should have thought about that before coming up here with an attitude big enough for the both of us. “I saw a snapchat of her with some other guy this weekend--they definitely hooked up. But I can’t ask anyone because I’m dating you.”

I shrugged, kind of missing the big deal. Sure--I get it. He was upset that someone he was into was into someone else. We’ve all been there. “I can ask.”

He let out a huff and turned again, making his way towards another aisle. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind--honestly. Who is it? I’m sure I could get some information for you.”

“Nora,” he said, turning on his feet to face me suddenly. “Don’t. Just give it up, okay? Just leave it alone.”

“Okay, alright,” I said, rolling my eyes at his temper. “Relax. You don’t have to be such a twat.”

He rolled his eyes at my insult but then turned to walk again. “I’ve never heard you say that word before.”

“I learned it from you,” I told him honestly. “I mean, I knew it before you were around--but hearing you say it made me like it. It’s fulfilling. Twat.” I said it a little bit louder now.

He laughed at this, trying to fight the smirk on his face.

“Twat!” I said even louder, peering through the shelves to see if anyone could hear me.

He looked over at me with raised eyebrows, silently egging me on to say it even louder. “Twat!” I said again, this time gaining a few glances from students nearby.

He laughed again, putting the last book where it belonged. “The good news is that you can’t get in trouble. You’d be the one kicking yourself out.”

“Or you could,” I reasoned with him.

He tilted his head head to the side and nodded in agreement with my words. “Yeah--but I wouldn’t do that.”

**

Wednesday night was meant to be quiet--just me and Kristen and the guys had all agreed to get food and hang out in Harry’s apartment. I should have known, however, that there’d be alcohol involved.

It wasn’t much--especially since Harry and Ryan had to be up for an 8am class--but it was enough to leave me a little tipsy as I sat on the couch and watched as Alex and Niall pretty much embarrassed Ethan and Kristen in a game of pong.

It was sort of nice to be hanging out with them all without the other people around. Sure--we’d gone mini-golfing (which had been a mild success), but the majority of my interaction with Ethan and the rest of the gang so far was in a party environment. It was harder to interact with him in a big group setting than in the comfort of Harry’s living room.

“Give Niall another drink and he won’t be as good,” Harry said over the music, watching as Kristen took a shot and missed.

“You’re all just miffed that I’m the King of Ball Sports,” he said, his tone confident and somewhat conceded. I rolled my eyes, looking over at Harry, who offered a cheesy grin.

He seemed less grumpy than the night before, and honestly, I was just appreciative to be somewhere other than the library. My weeknights off were typically spent in my dorm with Kirsten, or at the library getting work done. This was a welcomed difference.

Harry lifted his arm onto the back of the couch and nodded his head towards the door. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his eyes on me.

I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to silently communicate what?, but then he brought his eyes down to the space on the couch right beside him.

Oh. He was inviting me over to sit next to him. I looked down at the spot on the couch and then back up at him (he rolled his eyes a bit at this), and then I slid down on the couch and pressed my side up against his.

His arm immediately slunk around my shoulders, and I took a quick scan of the room to see if anyone had noticed. Kristen was too busy watching Ryan sink another shot, but Ethan seemed to let his eyes sweep over both Harry and I.

As soon as Ethan’s eyes were on us, Harry leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “You’ve got to step it up a bit, Hanson. We’ve been hanging out for two weeks now and you’ll barely touch me.”

I pulled away from him and whispered back. “I’ve been touching you! I held your hand for a hot second the other night after mini-golf.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “What a thrill!”

I hit him in the stomach for that one. Niall called our attention back to the game when he sunk the ball in the second to last cup.

“Alright! This is it! Balls back. We’re gonna end it right here,” he shouted and seemed to smack his hands on Alex’s shoulders in order to get him hyped.

Kristen offered Ethan a sympathetic smile as I felt Harry’s fingers lace into my hair. For a second I was stunned--I looked over to my side to see his thumb and forefinger pulling gently at a light brown strand. I turned to look back at him, to give him some kind of inquisitive look about the touching he was currently doing. Surely this was in violation of rule six. I mean, I get it--Harry and I had to touch each other to a certain degree to really sell it (rule four), but this felt sweet and intimate and not completely necessary for Ethan to totally buy into our charade.

Niall--sure as shit--did sink the ball and win the game for he and Alex. After a quick victory lap around the room to get a high-five from anyone who’d give him one, Niall turned to address the group. “Alright--a round on me. Let’s go.”

If there was one thing I really resented about Kristen, it was that she couldn’t--for the life of her--have a poker face. She shot me a look and waited hesitantly for someone else to respond to Niall.

“I mean, I’m down if you are,” Harry turned to me and waited for a reply.

“Uh,” I tried to think on my feet. I mean--Harry and the rest of them could go. I, however, being a few months shy of 21 and still without a fake ID, would be forced to hang back. But, if I was going to sit this one out, I definitely wasn’t going to do it alone. And based on the fact that Harry probably needed to know that I wasn’t 21 (and based on the fact that Kristen seemed to be enjoying herself more in the last few weeks than ever before), I decided Harry should be the one to sit out beside me.

“Why don’t we stay here, babe? Kristen, you should go,” I nodded in her direction. Harry looked from me and then to Kristen, his eyes narrowed as they landed back on my face. He didn’t seem angry or annoyed--he simply seemed confused and unsure of what I was up to.

“Positive?” Kristen tilted her head--hopefully somewhat aware that I’d be forced to stay behind whether I wanted to or not.

“Positive, have fun!”

“Yeah,” Harry waved a hand at the rest of them as they scattered to find coats and wallets. “Have a good time.”

He turned to face me once more, clearly interested in my game plan but still unable to ask any questions. Once the door shut behind our friends and we were alone in the apartment, I turned to face him with a smirk on my face.

His eyebrows dipped once more as he watched my face--still with his arm around my shoulders and my knees bent against his legs.

“I’m not twenty-one yet,” I said slowly, waiting for his obnoxious (and undoubtedly dramatic reaction).

His eyes went a bit wide and his lips parted. “You’re not? When’s your birthday? You’re twenty, though, right?”

“Yeah--relax, you’re not robbing the cradle,” I teased, immediately unsure of if my words were too forward for our pretend relationship. “I’ll be twenty-one in November. Only another two months.”

He laughed a little, bringing up a hand to rub at his eyes. “Why haven’t you told me that?”

I pulled away from him, ducking out from under his arm to put more space between as we spoke. I shrugged my shoulders and looked around the room--suddenly feeling somewhat embarrassed. “I dunno--I’m seriously the last one out of all of us. I didn’t want to be the Debbie Downer of the group.”

And I realized, then, that somewhere along the lines of Harry and I and whatever we were doing--we’d kind of become a group. Me and Kristen and Harry and his friends. We’d go to the dining hall, go the parties, there was even a group message now with me and Kristen added in.

He let out a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not a Debbie Downer.”

I watched him for a second, kind of unsure how all of sudden Harry was my friend and his friends were my friends and he was reassuring me that I wasn’t getting singled-out in our friend group. Maybe it was just rule four--maybe Harry was acting like he liked me so we seemed more natural when we were actually in front of our friends. More importantly, in front of Ethan.

The thought of rule four seemed to kick me into motion, I stood from the couch and acted as if he hadn’t said anything nice.

His face twisted in confusion again as I made my way for my backpack that had been left on his kitchen table. “Where are you going?”

“Rule two, remember?” I grabbed for my phone and keys and turned just in time to see him making a face as he tried to recall the rule. “We can only hang out outside of work two times a week.”

He pursed his lips and nodded slightly. “I mean--it might be kind of weird if they come back and you’re not here, no?”

I thought on it for a second. “Maybe Ethan will think we fought and realize it’s his turn to swoop in.”

Harry kept his eyes on me for a second in a totally unreadable expression. “Right, yeah.”

“Okay.” I said, awkwardly hovering in the middle of the living room as he stared up at me from the couch. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

**

Going to be a bit late tonight--clock in for me?

Yep!

**

I’m bored.

You’re bored?

Yeah. Super bored. Kristen’s at work and I’m just sitting on my bed doing nothing on a Friday night.

What are you wearing?

You’re gross.

Relax!!! I’m kidding.

What are you doing?

Finishing up a paper with Niall and Ethan play FIFA.

You can come over if you want.

Eh. Maybe I’ll just take a shower.

Always an option.

Your place tomorrow night though? Is it just us or are other people coming?

Other people too. You can invite friends if you want.

Okay :)

:)

I’m gonna shower.

Now I definitely know what you’re wearing.

Goodbye!!!!

**

Apparently, after twenty years of being bad at ball sports, I still hadn’t really learned my lesson. Which is why, on Saturday night, I ended up on Harry’s team against Ethan and Ryan in a classic game of pong.

“Babe,” Harry’s voice was suddenly close in my ear, his hand on my waist as he continued to speak. “The back left--it’s yours. Sink it.”

“Babe,” I turned to look at him, my eyes wide with accusation. He let out a snicker and pulled away, crossing his arms as he waited for me to make the shot.

Of course, I did, and of course, I missed.

“Apparently your sweet words don’t do much for her, Harry,” Ethan let out a laugh as he dropped his ball into a cup to wet it before his turn.

I pulled my eyes up to Harry--who I knew would be irritated beyond belief at this comment--and couldn’t help but smirk up at him.

“You should hear her in the bedroom,” Harry said, tossing the ball quickly and landing it in the third cup from the top. He raised his eyebrows at Ethan but then turned to look at me, completely aware that he’d broken rule three.

He smiled down at me, slinking an arm around my shoulders in apology, but I shrugged him off and rolled my eyes. At this, he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave my the most playful pout I’d ever seen. “Baaaaabe,” he whined a bit, holding a beer bottle in his free hand and he started to rub circles on my skin.

“Don’t even,” I laughed, trying to pull away in protest, unable to completely stay annoyed at him with the obnoxious grin plastered to his face. “You’re an asshole!”

And then, as Ryan made some kind of noise in protest of our interaction, Harry leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead.

And while I might have been stunned for a minute, I played it off well, immediately reaching for my own drink to wonder if maybe, Harry was drunk and I was drunk and we were just too good at pretending.

But then, as the door opened to reveal Kristen--who said she’d come by after her shift in the student center--I realized that it was only 10pm and Harry was on his second beer and I was on my first drink altogether.

Maybe I was reading into it. Maybe I was just overthinking the fact that Harry and I were good at faking it and I was dedicated (as fuck) to make Ethan fall for me. I looked at him across the table, he offered a smile in my direction before tossing the ball--it landed in the cup in front of me with a splash.

It took another few shots for Harry and I win--which was just as surprising as the fact that Harry kissed me on the forehead. Kristen, who’d managed to stay in the corner of the room with Georgia and Kate, was keen on an update when I wandered over.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” I shrugged my shoulders, thankful that Kate was knee deep in a story about her sociology professor to keep she and Georgia occupied while Kristen and I discussed my current state of affairs.

“You think it’s working, though? Does Ethan seem more interested in you than he did before?”

I shrugged again, letting my eyes scan over to where Harry was standing with Niall and some blonde girl I didn’t recognize. I watched them for a second, unsure of the strange feeling in my stomach when Harry threw his head back in laughter at whatever the girl had said.

“I mean, I definitely spend more time with him. And we’re all friends now--worst case scenario we at least have people to hang out with and play mini-golf with, right?”

“You’re gonna stay friends with Harry if this doesn’t work out?” She asked, her red solo cup clasped in both hands in front of her heart.

“I don’t Kristen,” I turned back to face her more directly--having confidently decided that I didn’t want to watch Harry flirt with some other girl while his ‘girlfriend’ was in the room. “He’s obnoxious as fuck and moody and stupid a lot of the time--but he’s kind of tolerable now.”

She laughed, bringing the cup up to her lips to take a sip. “Well butter my biscuit and call me brunch.” My face must has twisted in confusion--because she continued talking to clarify her sentiment. “I’m surprised,” she said.

“Me too.”

“Nora,” I turned at the sound of my name, surprised to see Ethan standing behind me, his own drink in hand as he smiled at both Kristen and I. “That was pretty good--didn’t think you’d play that well after the whole mini-golf thing.”

Kristen dipped into the kitchen with Georgia and Katie, leaving me to have a second alone with Ethan Davis (something I never thought was possible).

“Yeah, you and me both,” I laughed. “I mean, Harry’s definitely better than I am, but it’s a team sport, they say.”

“You have a few good shots, you definitely played a role in that win.”

I smiled, watching as he adjusted the backwards hat on his head. “Has your semester picked up at all?” I asked, hoping to get more comfortable just talking to him like a human. I was still kind of nervous around him (especially when we were the only two in a conversation), mainly because it increased our chance of deciding to forego words altogether and just make out.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I feel like it always takes the month of September, pretty much. A few weeks of the new schedule and stuff. How about you?”

“Yeah, I’m working more this semester than last, which is nice.”

He nodded, a smile on his face. “Yeah, and more time with Harry, so that must be nice.”

I forgot about that for a second--I forgot, when I was staring into Ethan’s blue eyes and admiring the way his hair seemed to swoop under his hat--that he really believed that Harry and I were together.

“Right,” I forced a smile. “It’s great.”

“Hi there,” Harry’s arm rested on my shoulders, he looked between me and Ethan. “Anyone need a refill?”

I stared up at him, hoping to communicate my displeasure with his timing. “All set,” I told him.

“Your cup is kind of empty,” he looked down at it, causing me to laugh and shoot Ethan a smile to act as if I weren’t annoyed.

“Okay, let’s go refill it,” I said, hoping to get a second alone with Harry. He clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, but instead of heading for the kitchen to refill my drink, I detoured into his bedroom and shut the door behind him once he followed me inside.

His eyes were narrowed as he walked to sit on his bed, clearly waiting for me to explain myself.

“You just blocked him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but the anger still clear and present as I pointed at the door to signify Ethan.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his bed for a second before sitting back up. “Nora, relax. Don’t you think he’ll wonder what we’re doing in here right now?”

“I don’t know what he’ll think, Harry--because I’ve barely gotten a chance to speak to him.”

He let out a sigh. “Okay, fine, sorry I’m trying to be a nice boyfriend and get you a drink.”

I made a face at him and crossed my arms. “You still broke a rule.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Okay? I’m sorry.”

I changed the subject quickly when he stood from his bed, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Who was that girl you were talking to?”

“What?”

“That blonde girl with you and Niall? Purple shirt?”

“Allie?” He shrugged his shoulders as if to downplay it. “She’s a girl.”

“Wow, I had no idea.”

“She’s from my economics class. She’s nice.”

“She looks,” I paused, trying to think of the right word. “Dull.”

“Dull?” He tilted his head to the side, completely confused by my thinly veiled insult.

“Okay,” I shrugged, trying to make myself more clear. “Air-headed. Bimbo. Stupid.”

“I get it,” he shook his head, definitely somewhat bothered by my attitude. “Whatever, she’s just a girl I know. Why do you care?”

“I don’t care,” I defended. “She just looks stupid.”

“Alright, Nora,” he sounded defeated. “Fine. Is that all?”

“Yeah,” I said, moving towards the door. “That’s all.”

**

You left your wallet on the couch.

Fuck.

Do you need it before work tomorrow? I can just bring it then.

That’s fine, thanks.

No problem.

______

AN: hi everyone!!! thanks again for reading and letting me know what you think! I love to hear feedback, comments, questions, predictions! all of the above! 

[arachcobra]

Naruto Episode 11 & 12 Review

Got PTSD? Just walk it off, you baby.

Review of Naruto Episode 11 and 12: The Land Where a Hero Once Lived and Battle on the Bridge! Zabuza Returns!

ArachCobra

So in this one, we start out with having Sakura guard Tazuna on the bridge, all alone. I'm just like, what? Apparently, it's because Kakashi is still not feeling well and Naruto and Sasuske are still struggling with the tree climbing things. So they do try to explain it. But the problem here is that there is no fucking way Kakashi can know when Zabuza will be back. Yeah, he can make an estimate based on the guy's injuries, but he doesn't know if Zabuza has some super healing ninja in his employ. For all he knows, Zabuza is heading for the bridge at a speed of mach fuck you right that very instant.

He isn't and Sakura is not gruesomely cut into confetti, but that's just because Zabuza has no easy way to recover. But this is still very risky.

Also, Tazuna calls Sakura lazy for yawning, which I feel is entirely uncalled for. Some guy named Giichi feels working on the bridge is getting too risky, so he quits, with Tazuna yelling at him.

Later, Sakura and Tazuna goes shopping and we get to see just how badly Gato has ruined the Land of Waves. It's an admittedly effective scene.

This is then ruined by the dinner scene where Sasuke and Naruto are shoveling down food so fast they have to puke. Hey, assholes, people are starving right now. Least you could do is respect the food you're given by not choking on it, just because you have to prove you're better than each other. Seriously, this is not team work. Time and time again we see this competition between Naruto and Sasuke makes them take quite frankly idiotic decisions that are detrimental for the team as a whole. Kakashi should get his act together and tell the two of them to get their shit together.

And then Sakura stares at a slightly damaged photo on the wall and Odysseus, the dialogue. To paraphrase Sakura: “There's a picture here. But it's torn. How did it get torn? It seems very important. The one who tore it must have had some sort of reason. I wonder why.” Honestly, most likely explanation is that Kakashi noticed the plot point hanging on the wall and asked Sakura to point it out until someone would say something and move the story along.

So then we get the tale of Kaiza. About how he saved Inari from drowning thanks to a trio of child bullies straight out of a Stephen King story. About how he saved the village when the floodgate broke. It's an interesting story, but made kinda silly by being punctuated by so much overly dramatic music and flowery language about how Kaiza: “Taught people the meaning of the word courage.”

And then Gato has Kaiza tortured by a group of goons before publicly executing him.

How... How can he do that? Is there no government in the Land of Waves? How did he get so powerful that he can execute people? In front of a large crowd of people even. In front of the guy's family. Did he buy out the government? How does that work? I mean, have him killed, yeah, that I can imagine, but publicly executing him for disturbing the order of the land? Kinda ridiculous.

And that's why Inari doesn't believe in heroes. Naruto goes out to train because he wants to show Inari that heroes do exists.

Neat.

For the next episode, let me just start by complaining about the title. It's called Zabuza Returns and Battle on the Bridge, but that's a fabrication at best. Zabuza and Haku show up at the very end of the episode and there is no battle on the titular bridge. Its just misleading.

Anyway, Haku crossdresses and meets Naruto in the forest and they exchange some awkward dialogue about having someone important. And that only by having someone important will you be strong. I guess that really depends on one's definition of strength, so I'm not gonna harp on that too much.

Anyway, tree climbing continues and Sasuke and Naruto returns, sweating, panting and covered in dirt. If you told me that's because they decided to celebrate with a victory quickie in the bushes, I'd believe you. These two really do come off as if they have some closeted feelings for each other.

Anyway, Inari says its all futile and Naruto calls him a coward and a crybaby.

Yeah, doesn't matter that the kid is traumatized by the death of his father and the decline of his country, while constantly having to worry that any day now, his grandfather will be slaughtered. Doesn't matter that this constant oppressive atmosphere of fear and futility has made him a nervous wreck with PTSD. Just get over it, kid. Anything else is cowardice.

In case it isn't obvious, I find this scene kinda sickening and insensitive.

Now, Kakashi says that Naruto didn't say anything he hadn't already told himself and that Naruto has suffered too. Well, great. Two problems. One, Naruto has not gone through the exact same scenario as Inari and even if he had, he'd probably have reacted differently, because people are different. He has no right to demand that Inari ”gets over it.” Second issue, from a narrative point, how bad did Naruto have it? We have some general ideas that he was excluded and people looked down on him, but it hasn't really been elaborated upon. We're just told Naruto has it bad and that's it. So here, the story trips over itself trying to justify Naruto yelling at a traumatized kid who's not even had a chance to properly grieve and get over the soul-shattering losses he's experienced.

To put it mildly, it doesn't really work. No matter how much the show insists that Naruto understands Inari's pain.

Anyway, next day, Zabuza shows up, Naruto is late and Gato's henchmen are getting ready to kidnap Tsunami and Inari. Oh, who's Tsunami? Inari's mother. She's been around for three episodes, but does very little. I think we only learned her name this very last episode in fact.

Shame. You'd think somebody with the name Tsunami would be a character you should keep an eye on.

Anyway, first episode works just fine. Second one dragged down by Naruto's treatment of Inari. Seriously, that's not okay.

Givenea

Inari, grandson of Tazuna takes over the role as awesomest character, for telling Naruto how dumb he is.

We then learn that Inari has lost all hope because a business tycoon turned his homeland into a dictatorship, everyone is starving and poor and his stepfather (who was the most amazing dad ever) was executed by said tycoon for trying to make things better.

Then Naruto calls him whiny.

Yup, Inari, an eight-year-old, who has lost his freedom and security and is struggling to cope with the loss of the only father he ever knew, is whiny. And Naruto is the right character to set him straight, because… a few people sneered at him…?

That’s all we’ve seen… Let me elaborate.

Back in episode 1, the big bad, Mizuki informs Naruto (and the audience) that Naruto is shunned and hated by the villagers because he is the container of the nine tailed fox. But this doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.

Within the first episode we see Naruto be chased down by ninjas, sneered at by his classmates and some random women and conned by Mizuki into stealing secret information.

This is not bad; it sets up that there is bad blood in between at least some villagers and Naruto. Next step would be to reinforce this idea over the next few episodes while establishing a norm for Naruto’s day to day life in Konoha. Naruto does runs into trouble with villagers a bunch of times within the first two episodes but only once or twice is their scorn unprovoked on his part. Going over them in order:

Episode 1:

Chased by ninja: He committed vandalism and skipped school. - Was punished by having to clean up his mess.

Sneered at by classmates - Because he mouthed off, they all had to redo a test.

Sneered by random women – Apparently unprovoked. Could be viewed to refer to the fox

Conned by Mizuki – Because he had the fox, Mizuki figured he could get away with it, taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable.

Episode2

Scolded by the Hokage – Naruto screwed up his ID and mouthed off.

Beaten by random woman – She was angry over Konohamaru’s botched transformation, unprovoked, but also nothing to do with the fox.

Thrown out of bookstore – Clerk did not allow reading before buying, had every right to toss them out.

Beaten by women in the bath - After attempting to sneak in and peep on them. They also immediately recognize, not only that Naruto and Konohamaru are transformed, but one also cries out: “Naruto, you again?”. Giving the distinct impression that this is a common occurrence.

Fight with Ebisu – while Ebisu does refer to Naruto as a fox, he seems far more miffed at Naruto taking Konohamaru all over town and distracting him from his training.

Ok, two things

Most people do not seem to care about the fox, whatsoever. They are instead reacting to Naruto’s actions, which are annoying at best and criminal at worst.

Nobody really seems to hate Naruto enough to step in and stop him from hanging out with the Hokage’s grandson. If Naruto was really shunned to the point we are supposed to believe, wouldn’t they try to save Konohamaru from the monster they believe the blond brat to be?

So while some people have treated Naruto pretty harshly, the whole thing fails in setting him up as an outcast through no doing of his own. It also fails at putting him through anything even remotely as bad as what Inari has suffered. So, when Kakashi later try to smooth things over, and encourage Inari, by explaining Naruto’s hardships and saying he got tired of whining and decided to do something about it, it falls flat.

Not only that, but when did Naruto ever stop whining? He pouts like a child whenever he doesn’t get his way.

Moving along.

After learning the tree-lesson instantly, last episode, Sakura is put on guard duty… well, it needs to be done, but couldn’t Kakashi have given her some other training since she’s ahead of the curve here? Not to mention, what is she gonna do if Zabuza or one of his people shows up? She is one lone genin, who has barely started her training as such. He, even wounded, is a highly trained jonin and we know that he has at least Haku to help him out.

Could be that this is just Kakashi’s way of paying lip service to doing this job.

So, Tazuna calls her lazy… I haven’t the foggiest why. After having lied to her superiors and then guilted her team into staying on a mission they are in no way qualified for, he should understand that just showing up is going above and beyond what anyone could expect from them.

So I guess these episodes are just here to make everyone look bad.

Oh yeah, and then Zabuza and Haku shows up.

Fluttersniper13

Sasuke and Naruto are having a dick measuring competition, Sakura is useless, family issues all over the place, Gato is god and everything is miserable. So, the usual shit.

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13125294/8/Naruto-Rewrite-1-Road-to-Ninja

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

Episode 5: The Incredibly Brief Life of Mif Mifterson

As we’re waiting to start and admiring the ship model of Blindsider that the DM has created since session 4.2, we move our character icons around. Grif’s appears at the ship’s gunning position. 

H: So, how edgy is Grif today? :) 

M, laughing: GUN 

M also said at one point “ah, Grif, that poor little stringbean.” To which H replies “Stringbean? Why stringbean? I mean, all humans are stringbeans to Rralwarr...” 

As we start the session, M brings up something we’d been discussing in the group chat in between sessions. I had looked again at the anonymous threatening transmission again, in the process of typing of Episode 4. “You have taken our property” is one of the first things mentioned. What property? After us all throwing some (wildly inaccurate) theories around in the group chat I had a realization and approached the DM about it. He confirmed my suspicions. He’d also mentioned it to the other players, so they knew, but their characters didn’t in-game, and I hadn’t quite explained it yet either. So M asked me about it. 

I said Taveau was staring at the transmission again and invited him to start the conversation. Taveau is... even less forthcoming than usual, and asks Grif what he thinks, first. 

Grif: Well I mean that’s a good question. Is it the ship? 

Rralwarr: Maybe they’re being absolutely massive jerks and it’s actually the tracking device. 

Taveau: No... I don’t think so. 

Grif: Well, why not? Do you think you know what it is, then? 

Taveau: ... I hope I’m wrong, but. I’ve got an idea. It might be me. 

Grif: You? Why would it be you? 

Taveau: I used to be a member of Death Watch. I hoped they’d thought I was dead, but if not... they probably have... a special death planned for me. 

Rralwarr is growling menacingly. Taveau fidgets. 

Taveau: I--alright. Rralwarr? Did you choose to become a bodyguard, or is that just what you were raised to do? 

Rralwarr hesitates for a moment before replying (and Grif translates): 

Rralwarr: I... I did, yes. There was a conscious choice. 

Taveau: That must be nice. I probably had a choice somewhere in there, but I didn’t realize it until it was too late. 

Rralwarr: ? 

Taveau: My parents raised me with the expectation that I’d join Death Watch as soon as I was old enough. By the time I was 15 I was having second thoughts, but I didn’t see an easy way to get out of it. 

H: Rralwarr stops growling and moves away from you. He stands with his back to you. He’s obviously not happy, but he’s not threatening you. 

It could be worse. It takes a certain amount of trust to turn your back on someone, at least, even if it’s to visibly sulk at them. 

Grif: Why are we talking about the past? We need to find a place to land. 

Taveau, with relief: You, I like you. Tell me where to land, I don’t know this planet. 

Grif: Well, let’s think about this. If we land too close to home it’ll be too obvious. I think if we head for the capital we have a better chance of blending in with all the traffic. And we should land at a middle-class spaceport, it’ll be busy, and not the kind of place we’d usually go. 

Rralwarr: Yeah, that’s going to be difficult. We still look like us. 

Grif: But there’s not much we can do about that right now, we’ll just have to hope no one recognizes us. 

Taveau: ...So are you guys, like, royalty? 

Grif: Not exactly, no. I mean, we’re well-known in our city, but we’re not exactly big intergalactic stuff. If you live on the other side of Alderaan you might know our name. 

Me: M, you said “not exactly” and Taveau heard “so basically kind of yes”. 

We discuss trying to disguise Rralwarr and give it up as an impossible task, for the moment at least. Taveau takes off his armor and poncho, folds the armor up inside his poncho and carries it under his arm like a bag. 

Decisions made, we head down towards the planet and are contacted from the ground by space-air traffic control. 

Ground: Transport Blindsider, identify yourself. Please note that security measures have been heightened in wake of the recent assassination. 

Grif, in an excellent imitation of a complete idiot: Assassination?! Wot!! 

Ground: Yes, a member of Alderaan’s most prominent families has been killed under mysterious circumstances. (Taveau quietly reinforces his belief that the Welkonnas are some kind of royalty. He’s not 100% clear on how this works on other planets but everyone knows them so obviously...) ...Transport Blindsider, do you copy? 

Grif: YES. AH. SORRY, TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES--*turns to Rralwarr* what do I do? 

Rralwarr: *I don’t know noise* Wrahh? 

Grif:--whoops there we go just had to fix something ANYWAY, YES HELLO, MY NAME IS MIF MIFTERSON. (ridiculously high deception roll) 

M, OOC: Haha Mif, bc I’m very miffed

Ground: Understood, Mr. Mifterson. I’m seeing you have two other lifeforms on your ship? 

Grif/Mif: YES, um, I have my friend... Chewbacca, 

Rralwarr: What

Grif: And, uhhh Tyrone Fireside. 

Taveau: *slightly disappointed look* ok whatever

DM: I mean, with that roll, you could’ve said anything and they would’ve believed you. 

Ground: Alright. Transport Blindsider, you’ve been cleared for landing in docking bay 94. 

(We take a moment to appreciate the reference, which one party member recognized; I needed to be told that that was the same number as the docking bay in which the original Star Wars party found the Millennium Falcon way back in A New Hope.) 

Ground: Enjoy your stay in Alderaan! 

Grif the Mif: Thanks! 

We land safely and get out of the ship. We are immediately greeted with Alderaanian customs officers. Grif, trying to feel out how much he needs to lie to these people, asks “So, hey, do any of you know the guy from space traffic control?” 

The DM asks him to make a deception roll for these new people and he crit fails it. 

Customs officer: Sir we have reason to believe you lied about your identity on the way in. Put your hands up and step away from the ship.

Grif: Oh... uh... Okay. 

Taveau drops his poncho bundle, which makes a VERY SUSPICIOUSLY LOUD metallic clonk. Naturally that’s the first thing they investigate. 

Customs officer: Battle armor, huh? 

Taveau: *stands very, very still* 

Rralwarr, meanwhile, tries to hand his ID card one of the officers and is requested to STOP MOVING, drop the card and lower his arms in front of him. He’s put in binder cuffs. 

M, responding to “nobody move” : the only thing moving is me/Grif, and that’s just my mouth. 

Me: THAT’S BAD ENOUGH. 

Grif: OK guys, listen up. I’ll admit it, I lied, and I’ll tell you why, I’m Grif Welkonna, I’m worried about what happened and I didn’t want to talk about my name over unsecure channels. You can find my ID in the bag there, this is my bodyguard Rralwarr, and this is our pilot Taveau.

Taveau: *small voice* hi

Customs officer: Check their IDs. ...OK. That was an idiotic way of trying to protect yourself, Mr. Welkonna, but I imagine you’re a bit shook up, so we’ll forgive it this time. We’ll take you to see the chief of police, he’s conducting an investigation into the murder. 

Taveau: ...Can I lower my hands now? 

Customs: yes. 

Taveau: Thank you. *does so very slowly* 

Rralwarr: Hey guys? I’m still handcuffed over here. 

That is remedied. 

DM: The customs people hand you over to a regular police escort who then take you in a police speeder. It’s fairly roomy. It’ll be about a 20-minute trip. 

Rralwarr: *whisper-messages something to Grif that I can’t see* 

Grif: *shakes his head* 

Me: *concern* 

H: Rralwarr’s a little confused about what’s exactly going on. He’s usually a little confused. 

Grif asks the officers with us if any of them were involved with the investigation. The answer is no, that’s being handled by forensics. There’s a moment of silence. 

Taveau: ...Hey, Rralwarr. 

H: He doesn’t really respond, but he’s listening. 

Taveau: I... understand if you don’t want to trust me, but just for the record, I hate these guys at least as much as you do. They left me to die in an arena on Geonosis. 

H: Rralwarr doesn’t say anything, not even a grunt. But he’s thinking of the enslaved Wookiees, and he sees it as a point of connection. 

We arrive, the officers escort us into a turbolift (yes, the DM tells H, Rralwarr does fit), and to the police chief’s office. 

DM: He’s sitting behind a large, ornate hardwood desk. Because of course, what else do police chiefs sit behind. The escorts leave, the chief gets up and comes around his desk to shake Grif’s hand. 

PC: Mr. Welkonna, my sincere condolences. I want you to know we have our best men working on it.

Grif: Thank you police chief, it’s very nice to hear you see that.

PC: It’s only my duty. Currently your family is in a safehouse on the other side of the planet. Would you like a police escort? I understand your father is anxiously awaiting your return.

M, OOC: Grif is going to ask what the name of the house is, like, the name the family used when talking about it, to see if this guy’s legit. 

DM: And what is the name? 

M: 

M:.... Fluffyplace.

The Party: what

DM: Acceptable

The Party: WHAT

PC, responding to Grif: it’s.. oh what was it... something to do with... pillows? No. Cloud... oh, fluffy. 

H: Rralwarr is disappoint. 

Taveau: ??? 

Grif: Ah yes fluffyplace, that’s it :) 

M: Grif’s face is utterly straight as he says fluffyplace.

H: Rralwarr does not know how you do this, he questions whether you are or ever were mentally stable. 

Taveau already feels out of his depth enough that he just accepts it as another weird alien thing, but he is wondering who picks the names in this family. 

PC: Alright. I guess you’ll be wanting to leave immediately? I’ll send you down with a couple officers, they’ll take you in an unmarked, armor speeder. So far we’ve had very few leads. Would you like us to send you whatever files we have?

Grif: Yeah that’d be good, Rralwarr might be able to assist. He knows the place where it happened very well. 

We go get in another speeder and prepared for another, much longer ride. The DM suggests we stop here, because he’s been sick and hasn’t been able to prepare as far ahead as he’d planned to, so he doesn’t feel ready to proceed any farther with the story. But before we break up officially, we have some more speeder talks. 

H: After the Geonosis talk, Rralwarr expresses interest in talking to Taveau. Can he assist you in learning Shyriiwook? 

Me: Oh please do. 

(roll of 19) Taveau now understands some basic words and phrases in Shyriiwook. And he is no longer misinterpreting everything he hears. 

H: Rralwarr has significantly calmed down. He’s been considering Taveau’s past actions and also your comment about Geonosis, and he thinks: you have not posed a threat to him or to Grif, so he has no reason to distrust you. That’s what he keeps telling himself, anyway. 

[masterpost]

[sinasterspeaks-blog]

Fallen Beauty (Destiel)

Chapter 1: The Family Men

Jensen (Dean's) P.O.V

 " DADDY! GET UP, GET UP, GET UP " Justice growled in a deep, husky voice as she bounced on my bed.

 I groaned and pulled up my blanket, effectively pushing Justice away. Somewhere off to the right I heard small footsteps thumping towards me but before I could react two small bodies belly flopped onto my still drowsy self, A gasp escaping my lips as their combined weight knocked the breath out of me. Deneel walked out of our shared bathroom and stopped short, laughing at the sight of our kids practically mauling her poor defenseless husband.

I reached out towards Deneel with a pleading look set on my face.

 " Help " I whispered loudly as Zeppelin threw a pillow on my face.

Daneel chuckled and turned away " That's right kids, get daddy, just like we planned "

 " Traitor! " I shouted, slightly muffled from the pillow being pushed in my face.

Daneel laughed and walked towards our bedroom door, watching our little scuffle until finally calling the kids for breakfast. Justice and Zeppelin jumped off and made a mad dash for the kitchen, but Arrow paused and look down at me with a warning glare.

 " You better get up or else I'm gonna call uncle Jared and he's gonna come beat you up " Arrow threatened with her tiny fists raised.

I threw my hands up and gestured for her to put her hands down " Okay, Okay, I'm up " I conceded, watching with an amused smile as Arrow nodded her head once and ran out screaming for Daneel to save her some bacon.

I chuckled quietly and ran a hand through my hair before sitting up and throwing my comforter off.

Jared's (Sam's) P.O.V

 " Hey Hun, do you have your passport and bags packed " Genevieve asked as she kept checking things off her little makeshift list.

I chuckled and grabbed her waist, pulling her in for a backhug.

 " For the fifth time, yes, you know I'm not a child right, " I murmured with an amused tone.

Genevieve huffed and crossed her arms, " You don't want me to answer that and I'm only asking because I want your trip to run smoothly, last time I let you get ready by yourself you ended up going to comic con in my short shorts. "

I laughed and rubbed her arms comfortingly, " Yeah, well, I rocked those short shorts. "

" Ugh, you're impossible " She laughed, but still slipped out of my arms and returned to checking things off her list.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked into the kitchen looking for something to snack on. Thomas was sitting on the counter (A chair had been pulled across the kitchen so he good climb up) shaking his little body while munching on a giant cookie. He froze when I walked in but instead of scolding him I decided to join his little escapade.

 " Ooh, Cookies, can I have one " I asked as I sauntered up to Thomas.

He smiled and offered me a giant chocolate chip cookie. I pretended to tip my hat in thanks receiving a hushed giggle from Thomas. Austin suddenly stumbled into the kitchen holding a big card with scribbles decorating the front. He shuffled over to me and held up the card with a big smile.

 " What's this " I asked curiously as I reached down and plucked it out of his hands before picking him up and resting his small frame on my hip.

 " It's a goodbye card since you're going on a trip " Austin smiled and reached for my half eaten cookie.

 I chuckled and gave it to him before inspecting the card. The front had a small picture of what was supposed to be me holding onto Austin and Thomas's hands while Genevieve held Oddette and for some reason was floating above us. I flipped open the handmade card and read the small messily written message.

I love you daddy. We are gonna miss you lots. Have a safe trip and get back soon.

I smiled at the cute but simple note and slid it into my pocket before turning my attention back to my kids. Thomas looked like he was constipated while he took large deliberate bites out of his cookie and Austin was squeezing his cookie into a small ball of gooey doe.

 " Hey Honey, do you have- " Genevieve started, but stopped short as she walked into the kitchen and regarded the scene before her with surprise.

Thomas quickly jumped down from the counter and bolted out of the kitchen cookie in hand and Austin following suit. Geneveive put a hand on her hip and walked forward with a warning look in her eyes. I quickly turned, grabbed a cookie and held it out in offering, hoping to save my soul. She stared down at the cookie and chuckled.

 " Jared you naughty man child, you're just as bad as Thomas " She chided, but grabbed the cookie and took a bite anyway.

 " Awe you know you love it " I responded and tested my luck by stealing a bite out of her cookie.

 " Hey! Oh, you're in for it now mister, no dessert when you get back, you'll have to watch while everyone else gets ice cream " Genevieve stated, but her stern look broke into a smile as I gave her puppy dog eyes.

 " You wouldn't do that to me, you love me too much, " I said with a pouty face.

She laughed and shoved my chest slightly. " Jeez, it's like your trying to brainwash me. "

I laughed and leaned down, pecking her cheek and quickly stealing another bite of her cookie. Genevieve gasped and moved her cookie out of my reach with a look of astonishment set on her features.

 " Oh my gosh you are such a brat, go finish getting ready before I really get mad. " She ordered while shaking her head.

I laughed and jogged out of the kitchen, heading for our shared room.

 " Oh, and can you please get Odette from her nursery. " Genevieve shouted as I climbed the stairs taking two steps at a time.

 " Sure! " I shouted back.

Riiiing Riiiing Riiiing

I looked down at my pants pocket and quickly fished out my phone just as I reached the top of the stairs.

 Caller ID: Jensen Turdackles

Misha's (Castiel's) P.O.V

 " Misha, come on, you need to go or else you're gonna miss your flight " Victoria giggled as I continued to leave butterfly kisses along her neck and cheeks.

I grumbled something along the lines of 'I don't care' and dove in for another kiss, but I was quickly interrupted by West.

 "Ewwww, daddy, that's gross, mommy has cooties " West said, hiding his eyes behind his hands.

I laughed and let go of Victoria, who looked very miffed by her son's words.

 " Ha-ha, that's right West, mommy has cooties " I agreed, receiving a dark glare from Victoria.

Victoria huffed and turned to West " Sweetie, go get Maison, daddies leaving now and I want her to say goodbye "

 " Okay, mommy " West said and ran back inside the house.

I was currently standing on my porch, luggage surrounding me and a taxi waiting impatiently in my drive way. I was heading to comic Con for a supernatural panel and although I love seeing the fans and the guys I wish I could stay and be with my family.

I glance down at Victoria as she wrapped her arms around me in a sweet embrace. I smiled and hugged her back.

 " Have a safe trip okay and promise me you'll come back " Victoria asked in a small voice.

I pulled away and frowned at her words.

 " Why ask something like that, you know I'll always come back " I reassured.

Victoria looked down and bit her lip for a second before returning her gaze to me.

 " I know, ignore me I'm being silly " Victoria said, dismissing whatever thoughts she had.

I smiled reassuringly and placed a kiss on her nose.

 "Daddy! " West shouted, running towards me, Maison stumbling after him.

 " Heyyy. " I greeted, smiling and crouching down with my arms open.

West and Maison collided into me with a brutal force.

 " We love you Daddy. " West said as he snuggled into my arms.

 " Mommy, I wanna go with Daddy. " Maison whined, clinging to my arm.

 " Come on Maison Daddy has to leave now, maybe next time " Victoria said as she gently pulled West and Maison away.

I shot a thank you look to Victoria and turned away from my family, picking up my luggage and walking to the cabbie who had honked at least four times. I quickly loaded my luggage into the trunk and with one last wave to my family I slid into the backseat and settled in as the cabbie switched gears.

I sighed and watched the scenery outside my window slip away and with it my consciousness.

Word Count: 1,543

[swords-and-bats]

Around the World

"I mean, it’s not really necessary for both of us to go, is it?"

Gokudera stared down at the dossier in his hands, his brow wrinkled in confusion. This was a simple hit; three targets, low-ranking Millefiore members that had been seen near enough to Namimori to cause concern.

Tsuna sighed patiently.

"Not necessary, no, but where the Millefiore is involved, I’d rather be safe than sorry, you know? You leave as soon as possible; I don’t want them here any longer than they have to be. Dispatch them however you see fit.”

The hard light in his boss’s eyes told the Storm precisely what that meant, and he nodded sharply as he stood, taking the second file with him as he brushed out of the room. His walk back to his and Takeshi’s shared quarters was a short one, but he slowed it, took his time and considered his options.

Really, this was a painfully simple mission; he could go himself, make sure that Takeshi didn’t have to get mixed up in it (the haunted look in his lover’s eyes was too much for Gokudera to take when he had to kill someone—it made the silveret ache to watch the Rain tear himself apart over it), and be back within the week.

Takeshi was in the dojo now. If he just… left…

"Yeah, fuck it," he muttered to himself, tucking both dossiers together. He tucked them both into the front pocket of his bag when he got to his room, quickly packed, and was gone within the hour, leaving a hastily scrawled note for his boyfriend on the kitchen table.

Takeshi,

Sorry about the short notice—well, okay, the no notice—but there’s a situation that needs to be taken care. I’ll be back in about a week. I won’t have my phone on me, so don’t freak out if you call and you don’t get an answer—I know you’ll do that anyway, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Ti amo. -Hayato

—————————————————

It had been five days.

Tsuna was pale, shaking, numb when he put down the report in front of him. Reborn, for once, had lost the cocky air he had when he handed them in—even he was reserved, eyes downcast as he let the small Decimo absorb what he’d found.

The Sky had sent Reborn out two days ago, after discovering that yes, Hayato had left on his own, no, he wasn’t taking any calls or e-mails or texts, and no, Takeshi had not known about this, had just come home to a note and an empty apartment.

The ex-Arcobaleno out after him, hoping that his friend was just taking longer than expected, and Reborn had found where Gokudera had been staying—a cheap, dingy hole-in-the-wall hotel that required no id, no credit card information, and didn’t run a cleaning service at any time other than checkout.

The room was a wreck. Gokudera’s bag had been ripped open, thrown everywhere; a table was broken, as was the bathroom door. There was blood, a lot of it. There was a body in the bathtub, pale and long-limbed and missing its head but Reborn could recognize the bracelets and bangles on the wrists anywhere.

"I… A-are you sure?" Tsuna asked, his voice thick, wobbling.

Reborn nodded. “I wouldn’t put you through this if I wasn’t.”

Tsuna parroted his nod, looked back down at the report, and brushed the tears off of his cheeks—not that it did much good, they just kept coming, they wouldn’t stop. The brunet muffled a sob into his hand and pushed the report away, pushed himself to his feet and stumbled out of the room. He had to tell Takeshi. He had to tell him before someone else found out and told him…

He hated that Takeshi opened the door with a smile. He hated how the Rain’s face fell, how he shook his head, how he knew what Tsuna was going to say. He hated how he had to say it anyway.

"Y-Yamamoto, he… Gokudera-kun is… h-he’s dead."

Hayato was supposed to be home soon. Takeshi had gotten everything ready, excited to see him again. Of course he was miffed… Tsuna had been surprised to see him the day after the Storm had left, but really, there wasn’t much he couldn���t handle alone at this point. He’d already planned the scolding, but that would definitely come after making sure his lover was all right and welcoming him home properly.

The knock on the door startled him from his book. Hayato must have forgotten his keys. With a fond grin, the Rain opened the door quickly. “Maa, Hayato, did you forget your keys when you forgot….”

Not Hayato. Tsuna.

Tsuna, crying his eyes out. No no no no no. No. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t….

deaddeaddeaddeaddeaddeaddead

Hayato was dead. Gone. Killed by the Millefiore. The rest of the day passed in a blur… he remembered Tsuna making him sit, he remembered a drink being pressed into his hand. Ryohei’s loud voice pierced the fog a bit and he knew Tsuna left, but he wasn’t sure how long it had been.

It didn’t matter. Hayato wasn’t coming back.

Tsuna and Reborn spoke to him about funeral arrangements, but Takeshi couldn’t muster up the feelings to care. He wasn’t even completely sure how much later it was, but he figured it must have been at least the next day… Tsuna’s eyes were red, but he wasn’t openly sobbing anymore. Whatever day it was, whatever they did would be fine… no, he didn’t care who was invited or when it was. The only contribution he made was the flowers.

"Lilies… they were his mother’s favorite. He’d… he’d…" Tears were pretty much a constant at this point. He just curled up on himself after that. Nothing else really mattered. Someone kept feeding him, but he couldn’t be bothered to notice who. He threw most of it up anyway.

Okay, so taking care of those Millefiore bastards had taken a bit longer than he’d hoped.

He’d gotten cocky, gotten caught, damn near gotten ambushed in his fucking hotel room; they’d had him tracked that close.

As luck would have it, though, they’d been cocky, too. They only sent one guy after him, and though the grunt had fought like a wildcat, Gokudera had managed to put him down with little trouble.

He knew the others would come looking for him, though, and the bomber would be damned before he spent any amount of time looking over his shoulder, dreading an attack. He did what he had to do; he cut off the goon’s head, dressed him in one of his own suits, put his bracelets on him, and left.

The ruse worked. The Millefiore idiots that remained were out four nights later cawing to all who would listen about their victory over the Vongola.

Their bodies were cold by morning.

—————————————

It was late—so late it had circled back around to early—by the time Hayato pulled up to the manor. He was exhausted but exhilarated; this had been a chase, a challenge, a true test of his abilities, and though his body ached down to his bones, the silveret felt alive. He made a beeline for his and Takeshi’s room, unlocked the door, and beamed sunnily when he saw that the Rain was still awake.

"Hey," he said, a little breathless as he stepped in and leaned against the wall. "Sorry I’m late—man, wait until you hear this; so the guys—wait, whoa. Take, you… You look like shit, who died?"

He didn’t hear the door open, didn’t bother looking up. He didn’t care. With any luck, the Millefiore had gotten in and found him. It just didn’t matter.

Until he heard Hayato’s voice. He… was hallucinating, wasn’t he? That had to be it.

"You’re dead." His voice was cold, as dead as the person who was supposedly standing in his doorway. He turned slowly to look at him, eyes wide and red, puffy from days of crying and full of tears and rage as he stared at the silveret in his doorway.

"You’re DEAD! You fucking asshole! You’re DEAD!" He stood, hands balled into fists at his side. He was shaking with fury, with the knowledge that not only had he lost his Hayato, but now his ghost, or hallucination, or whatever was standing there laughing at him.

"You just had to be a fucking hot shot! Had to do everything on your own, leave me here because you didn’t need me. You never fucking need me, and now look at you!!

"You made Tsuna cry… you fucking piece of shit, you told him you’d be there! You told him you’d never leave, you swore to be by his side and you just fucking go off on your own like some fucking vigilante!”

His fist hit the table, not noticing the crack in it as he turned his back on the ‘hallucination’. “Stay the fuck out, Gokudera. I don’t… I can’t deal with this shit… it hurts too much as it is. Just… get the fuck out.”

"What?" Gokudera was… confused. Takeshi looked like a wreck—he’d never seen his lover this… this empty; his eyes were hollow and his voice was hollow and even his movements seemed strange, seemed wrong. “Takeshi…”

He jumped when the swordsman suddenly started yelling, his green eyes wide as he tried to figure out what the hell he meant. Dead? How the fuck could he be dead, he was standing right here—

"T-Takeshi, what—" The Storm cut himself of, curled an arm around his torso as he felt those words dig in, sink their claws in and rake their way through his insides. His other hand came up to ball over his lips as he stared with glassy eyes, so hurt by this unexpected attack that he could hardly breathe. He sagged against the wall, trying to pull in on himself, trying to block the angry words his lover spat at him. Where the hell was this coming from? He knew he’d been gone a while, he figured he’d have to suffer through some chastisement, but…

Gokudera felt warm tears slide down his cheeks. He’d upset Tsuna, he’d made Tsuna cry, and now Takeshi wouldn’t even look at him—what… this wasn’t the first time he’d done, this, why this, why now—Takeshi punched the table, cracked the oak, and Hayato jumped, flinched and pulled his arms up to defend himself.

He felt sick. He felt hot and sick and he was choking on questions and tears but nothing would come out because Takeshi told him to leave, told him to get out, to get the fuck out and how… how was he supposed to live with himself now?

How was he supposed to live alone?

For a moment, the bomber panicked, but then a familiar calm came over him. He knew this calm. This calm came before he did something very, very stupid. This was the calm he’d felt years ago, back in darker days, in darker times where it was kill or be killed and he leaned towards the latter.

He pulled himself up on shaky legs and said, in a voice thick with tears, “Yeah, okay. Fuck you, too, Yamamoto. Sorry to be such a goddamned burden all these years.”

The silveret turned and stumbled out of the apartment, pulled his keys back out of his pocket and damn near ran to his car. He didn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry, he wasn’t brushing tears off of his face; he didn’t care because of course this family was too good to be true. Of course he ended up alone again, wasn’t that how it was meant to be? He was a live bomb, a liability, a burden and a fuck-up, and it was only a matter of time before Takeshi, sweet and loving and kind and warm and everything, realized that.

Within the hour, he was on a plane. His phone was gone, dropped in a trash can at the airport. His wallet was with it, all except for his fake identification papers, the ones he’d kept from Takeshi, and his money.

Takeshi wanted him to disappear? Fine. Gokudera was good at that, and he’d been away from his madrepatria for too long.

Takeshi collapsed as his hallucination disappeared, dropping to his knees and keening, Arms around his chest, head to the floor, his body was wracked with sobs. His Hayato was gone… he was so angry and hurt and destroyed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.. he didn’t want to anymore. He just wanted the pain to go away, wanted the tightness in his chest to stop… he didn’t want to feel anymore.

He had no idea how long he laid there. The sobs turned to whimpers and he fell to his side, curling around himself. That was how Tsuna found him… the door hanging wide open made the little boss panic, fearing the worst when he finally had good news for his best friend.

"Yamamoto! Yamamoto, where…?" He blinked, running over and sliding to his knees, pulling the Rain up off the floor. "Takeshi!" He looked him over for injury, hissing at his swollen hand but relieved to see that was the only physical thing wrong with him. He pulled him up more, letting the raven rest his head on his shoulder, running fingers through shaggy hair.

"C’mon, Takeshi… I have good news. I got a report from Gokudera-kun. Hey, listen to me. Gokudera-kun is not dead. He’s alive! It was a decoy… He should be home any time now… I’m kinda surprised he’s not here already.” Because of course, if he’d shown up, Takeshi would not be on the floor sobbing with a broken hand.

Right?

The Rain’s head lifted, staring at Tsuna with shocked eyes. “Wh-what? What? Tsuna…. no. No… he can’t be… oh god…”

The Sky blinked and nodded. Why… wasn’t he happy? “Yeah… he’s alive. He said he’d be home by now…”

"No no no… oh god, please…. no… Tsuna… he was here…. it wasn’t… I thought…" Takeshi scrambled to his feet, starting to run for the door. Tsuna grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

"Yamamoto!" His voice cut the air like a whip, forcing his Rain’s eyes back to him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ha-hayato… he was here, Tsuna. He was home, but I thought…" A whimper slipped from him. "I… I thought I was dreaming, or hallucinating. I was so mad…" Tears slid down his cheeks as the full weight of what he’d done slammed into him. "He left. I told him… god, I told him to go… to just leave…"

Tsuna’s eyes closed as he took a deep breath. Yelling and getting upset was not going to help. He could see the mistake, but… ugh, what a mess. “All right. He didn’t come to me either… I’ll send a team out to find his car. He can’t have gone far.” He hoped. “You will get yourself patched up and we’ll talk to him once he’s found. He’ll understand, Takeshi.”

—————————————————-

It hadn’t taken them long to find the Storm’s car. The poor parking job only deepened Takeshi’s guilt… there was no way his lover would leave his vehicle in such a state if he planned to return.

After passing his description around the airport, they found that he’d jumped a fast flight to Italy. The swordsman had followed, telling Tsuna to stay home. This was his fuck up… he’d fix it.

He was going to bring his lover home.

Almost a month went by. Takeshi sent biweekly reports, and handled little missions in Italy while he was looking… he swore he’d been over and under the country 20 times. There was still no sign of Hayato.

Where the hell could he be?! It was like he had died all over again. Every night found the Rain in a different hotel, curled up alone and fighting his own growing sense of dread.

It was easy to lose himself in Italy.

The moment he got off the plane, got through customs, he ditched his id, dropped it in a trashcan outside il Aeroporto di Fiumicino, hopped a train, and headed south.

He stayed in no city longer than three days, heading for the amalfitana, keeping close along the coast until he hit Napoli. It was a huge, sprawling city, full of tourists and gypsies, mafiosi and regular citizens, and it was there that he ditched his suits—they were drawing too much attention—and instead bought clothes that he hadn’t worn since high school; t-shirts and button-downs, jeans and sneakers, better for walking long distances in. Bought a beanie to cover his silver hair, bought sunglasses that that covered the majority of his face, bought a new slough of bracelets and rings, pierced his lip. Anything to divorce himself from the person Takeshi would be looking for.

His heart throbbed painfully. You’re assuming he’s going to look for you. He told you to leave—no, he commanded it. What the hell makes you think he gives a fuck about where you are, Hayato? You could die here and he wouldn’t care. No one would care.

Three weeks in and he left Napoli after staying there for four days—probably two too long, but what the hell ever. Again, it wasn’t as though anyone was on his trail. He toyed with the idea of slowing down, enjoying the countryside that he’d loved so dearly as a child, but just the thought of reminiscing about anything made him sick.

Gokudera pushed on.

He stopped using public transportation then, too, stole a bike and headed for Vietri sul Mare, for Minori, through Amalfi and finally into Positano. He was ending week four, and though loneliness clawed at him, ate at his mind and left him weak and shaking and sobbing at night, he forced himself to ignore the friendly calls of both natives and tourists.

He left his bike behind in Positano, took a boat to Salerno, and found a place to stay there with little trouble—it was a city large enough to get lost in, but still small enough that it only took a little convincing for a kind woman by the name of Clara to take him in. He paid her, grateful for her generous spirit, even more grateful for the fact that she asked no questions and left him in peace.

The Storm—well, could he even call himself that anymore? Hayato spent a few days in his room, crying his misery out and feeling generally sorry for himself, but finally emerged three days later, hungry and cranky and in sore need of nicotine.

Clara gently shooed him out of the apartment, told him to get some fresh air and some cigarettes, and to come back when he’d stopped looking so unbearably sad.

He walked aimlessly around town until he finally wound up at the bay. For a moment, he leaned against the banister along the lungomare, stared down at the crashing waves, let his sadness consume him and ached for Takeshi, for his love, his lover, il suotutto, to make him better.

With a long, deep sigh full of regret and self-pity, the silveret hoisted himself up onto the railing, faced out over the ocean, pulled his knees to his chest, and lit a cigarette.

Takeshi’s hits had started getting colder, and more brutal. The quicker he finished a mission, the quicker he could get back to his search. Tsuna had stopped sending most things his way… After Gokudera’s brazen decimation of the squad sent to kill him, the Millefiore had backed off and things were as peaceful as they could be in the mafia.

The Rain had wandered down to the bay after a breakfast he barely touched, coffee in hand as he strolled along the wall. He hadn’t given up hope, but so many nights spent alone, worried sick and horribly guilty were starting to weigh on him. Maybe Hayato was happier alone… Maybe it was better this way.

He was probably better off not having to deal with an idiot who couldn’t tell the difference between reality and a ghost anyway.

A frown tugged at his lips and he pushed his shades up, hiding the tears that he was trying desperately to blink away. The ocean sounds were so lonely… they were making him maudlin. He straightened his shoulders, noting absently that his jacket was getting too big… he really should consider eating more. He hadn’t dared communicate online with his boss… he knew he looked like hell, and Tsuna was close to commanding him home as it was.

He just wasn’t quite ready to quit… if he could just find-

It couldn’t be… he hadn’t seen that sloppy, badboy style since high school… He had to be wrong, but the way his heart clenched in his chest..

He’d accosted random strangers before, what was one more time. He walked up next to the man smoking on the wall, glancing sideways quickly. It was… he looked exhausted and sad… but it was his Hayato.

"Can I bum one of those?"

Gokudera was used to strangers accosting him for cigarettes. It was Italy, after all; people were friendly here, open with their things, and sharing a cigarette with a stranger was one of the best ways to pass the time.

So when someone walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, and asked him for one, Hayato simply held out the carton, not taking his eyes off the horizon, hoping to make it plainly obvious that he was not in the mood to talk.

It took him a beat to realize the question was posed in Japanese.

His head whipped around so quickly he was surprised it didn’t snap and he jerked away from Takeshi, his eyes wide and very suddenly brimming with tears. The silveret lost his balance but managed to find it again before he dropped to the ground, taking another step back for good measure as he pulled his hands up to his chest.

He couldn’t draw in enough air to speak. His heart was in his throat and it was cutting off his oxygen, making him choke on something that sounded like sobs and probably was, god, he was sobbing as he shook his head, took another step back, stared at Takeshi with wide, unblinking eyes, terrified that if he glanced away for just a moment the brunet would be gone.

Again.

“V-voi… C-come cazzo mi hai trovato, non—shit, how are you here, this is impossible—you w-weren’t supposed to find me, you weren’t supposed to look for me, Takeshi—” he gasped, the Japanese feeling clumsy and foreign on his tongue.

He fished his lighter out of his pocket, lighting the cigarette Hayato had given him with shaking hands. He stared out at the water, not wanting to move too fast, or at all just yet. He couldn’t spook him… he couldn’t lose him again.

So he took a drag of the cigarette, closing his eyes as the nicotine calmed his frazzled nerves, amused by the irony that he was using the drug to calm himself. He started talking, letting the smoke slide out of his nose as he spoke.

"Hayato… please… just listen to me, ok?" He couldn’t bear to look at him yet… the soft cries were ripping his heart up. It was all his fault…

"We got a report from Reborn… your body had…" He swallowed, taking another drag of the cigarette. It still hurt so much to even think about… "Your body had been found in that motel. Reborn and Tsuna… they were talking funeral plans and asking my opinion and I…" His eyes closed, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"I thought you were dead. I thought… Heh… I thought I’d finally lost it. There you were, standing in the doorway like nothing happened while we were making plans to put… god, to put you in the ground." He slumped over the wall, tears falling to the rocks below. "I was angry… so angry at you for leaving me. For getting killed… I’m sorry.

"I know it doesn’t fix things… I know it probably doesn’t matter, and god, how much happier have you been not having to clean up my messes and deal with me. But… but I love you. And I’m sorry…” He turned then, leaning on the wall and pulling his shades off. He wanted to dive at him, wrap him up in his arms, never let him go…

But he didn’t deserve that. He wasn’t worthy of the happy ending he wanted. He made his lover cry, he made him leave… all he wanted was for Hayato to come home, but he wasn’t… shouldn’t get that.

"I love you…"

It was difficult to hear over the racing of his pulse in his ears, over the way his breath hitched and caught on sobs, but he listened. He listened and suddenly he understood—of course. That body… He’d expected the Millefiore to take it with them, but if they’d left it, if Reborn had found it…

Well, it had been a convincing decoy, though he never thought it would convince the ex-Arcoboleno. Then again, he’d never had reason to believe any of the Vongola would see it.

He still hurt, he still ached and hurt from what Takeshi had said, and he shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily, he should have been pissed, he should have yelled and hit and kicked the bigger man for putting him through this. He should have been livid.

Instead, he gave a single, raw sob and rushed the few steps over to his lover, crushed himself to Takeshi’s body and buried his face in his chest, his fingers clutching at the back of his Rain’s jacket like if he let go the other man would disappear.

Gokudera gritted his teeth against his sobs, trying to quiet them even as they shook his body, and his voice was raw, rough and open, as he whispered, “I am happier cleaning up the worst of your bullshit than I could ever be without you.”

"Hayato…" His own voice broke as he wrapped arms tight around the smaller form, burying his face in his hair and weeping like a child. "Ti amo, Hayato… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been worried sick about you… please, love… please forgive me…”

He couldn’t move, couldn’t think… all he could do was beg, over and over, for forgiveness, for Hayato to love him again… He’d screwed up so badly, and everything was just wrong when he wasn’t home. He belonged in his arms… he was never letting him go again.

They were starting to gain an audience, but Takeshi couldn’t find a fuck to give. The sound of the ocean didn’t seem quite so lonely anymore, and all he wanted to do was hold the Storm, just like that, forever.

"I love you so much… please forgive me…"

Hayato’s hands moved up, slid around Takeshi’s ribs to slide up along his ribs, press over his chest, pause over his heart as he struggled to get himself under control. He couldn’t stop crying—his relief had broken a hole in the dam he’d built around his emotions and now they were pouring out, sliding down his face to soak his lover’s jacket as his hands moved up again, clutched at the back of Yamamoto’s neck and at the short hairs on the back of his head.

“Non c’è nulla da perdonare,” he whispered, pulling the taller man down, pressing kisses to his lips, eyes, cheeks, nose, forehead, anywhere he could reach, kissing away the bigger man’s tears as he, himself, trembled and sagged against the Rain, so relieved that he could do this again that another wave of emotion broke over him.

Finally, he found and caught Takeshi’s lips. Gokudera pressed his sobs to his lover’s mouth, kissed him until the sadness and the ache started to fade, until he started feeling warm again, until he could pull away and press his face to the Rain’s neck without suffocating there.

"I love you," he whispered, then said it again, louder. "I love you. Ti amo, Takeshi. Ti amo così tanto. Ti amo più della vita, amore, ti amo più di qualsiasi cosa e più di ogni cosa e mi dispiace tanto. I am so, so sorry—I never meant… I d-didn’t know… God, Take, forgive me, take me back, I c-can’t… I can’t do this without you. I can’t live without you, goddamnit…

"You’re everything to me. Please, I… I can’t lose everything."

The little kisses, the hands on his chest, in his hair… they all felt like redemption. Hayato’s lips pressed firmly against his, his sobbing breaths mixing with the bomber’s… that was rebirth. He could breathe again, the pain that had wrapped around his heart, that had been suffocating him since he’d first heard Tsuna say he was dead finally fell away, leaving him breathless.

It took him a minute to register that his lover was talking again, and when he finally did, he shook his head sharply. “No… No, Hayato, please… there’s nothing to take back. I never wanted you to leave, gods… I wanted an image in my head, a tease when I thought you were dead and I’d never see you again… that’s what I wanted gone. Not you. Never you. You’re my everything, Hayato… I gave up…”

Just saying it out loud hurt, but he needed him to understand. “When Tsuna said you were dead… I checked out. There’s no other way to say it.” His hand cupped the silveret’s cheek, resting their foreheads together as he tried to remember how to breath. “All I want is for you to come home. I miss you so much… I’ve been searching all over Italy for you.” He kissed his nose, thumb rubbing over the new piercings lightly. “I’d really, really like it if you’d stop hot-dogging and just take me on missions with you, though… I’m a big boy, and I don’t think I can handle a report saying you’re dead again.” He managed a watery smile, but the pain from that scare was still very evident in his eyes.

Gokudera sniffled, glanced up at Takeshi with watery eyes and scrubbed at his face until those big, warm hands cupped his cheeks and pulled his face up, forced him to look at him, and fuck, he was crying again, curling his fingers into the front of his lover’s shirt like a lifeline.

"I… God, I’ve missed you," he said, his voice like a sigh, like it was a relief to finally be able to say it without feeling weak or pathetic, without hating himself a little bit or choking it out between sobs. He pressed a kiss to his lover’s thumb and at least had the decency to look a little abashed as he ducked his head, kicked at the ground, pressed a kiss to Takeshi’s sternum for good measure.

"Yeah, okay. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I didn’t know this was going to get so… so out of hand, you know? It was supposed to be easy… I would never, ever do that to you on purpose, Take, you’ve gotta know that," Hayato whispered, pulling his lover down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

And then another.

And another.

He didn’t mean to, he didn’t, but then he was surging up onto his tiptoes, crushing his mouth to Takeshi’s, throwing an arm around his neck as the other cupped his cheek, stroked his cheekbone and then slid up into his hair.

"I know… I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I love you," he managed to get out between kisses. The sudden movement caught him off-guard for a second, but his hands automatically went around his waist, holding him against his chest where he belonged. His head tilted and he kissed him back, groaning into his mouth and parting his lips.

He needed this so much. Like air, like life itself, he needed his Storm pressed against him, needed him in his arms and safe and alive. Tears continued to slide down his cheeks as he pulled the smaller man closer, kissing him until they were both breathless.

When he finally, reluctantly pulled away, it was only far enough to rest their foreheads together again, panting softly. “I love you… I always will.”

He slowly moved away, fingers sliding over the bomber’s skin reverently. An impish grin fell into place, eyes bright and warm despite the tears drying on his cheeks. His Hayato was back… that’s all that mattered. His hands slid into the Storm’s front pocket, pulling his cigarettes out and tapping out a fresh one. Putting it between his lips and lighting it, he pulled out his phone.

"I have to call Tsuna… he really has been worried sick about you, love." A drag of the cigarette, and he hit the speed dial. "Yo, Tsuna! Guess who I found?"

Gokudera had never before been so starved for affection. He drank in Takeshi’s kisses like fine wine, breathed him in like air, swallowed his groan and returned it with one of his own, one that was breathless and helpless and sweet, so relieved he could taste it.

He’d missed this, missed the swordsman crushing him to his chest, missed how it felt to be wrapped up in these arms and kissed until he couldn’t stand without their support. His green eyes were dazed when Takeshi finally pulled away, his lips stinging and a little bit puffy, his breath coming quicker.

"I love you. Goddamnit, I love you,” the bomber whispered, his own hands sliding down over the bigger man’s broad shoulders, down the flat plane of his chest and across his sides to slip around his back, settling at the base of his spine beneath his jacket. He gasped when he felt fingers slip into his front pocket, his hips jerking automatically, though when they pulled away with his pack of cigarettes in hand, the Storm scowled.

"That’s two you’ve bummed now. Mooch," he grumbled, waiting until Takeshi had taken one good drag before he pulled the cigarette from between his lips. "It’s a nasty habit, you shouldn’t have started."

Hayato took a drag of his own, laid his head on Yamamoto’s chest and winced as he heard Tsuna answer, sounding exhausted and strained.

Fuck, he was an asshole.

"Yamamoto," Tsuna said curtly when he answered, expecting the Rain’s usual terse greeting and clipped update. It was a little early, but the brunet worried so much he wasn’t going to complain about confirmation that the swordsman was still alive. However, his voice was chipper, relieved and happy and upbeat in a way that the Sky hadn’t heard in nearly two months, and he dropped his glass when he realized what, exactly, that meant.

Tears burned at his eyes, dripped down his cheeks, and he said with a thick voice, “Y-you found him? Tell me everything—where are you? Is he okay? Are you?”

"Yosh! He’s all right… we’re all right. We’re in Salerno.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to Hayato’s head with a relieved sigh. “I’m not telling you everything over the phone, but we’re ok. It just… god, it was such a huge misunderstanding.” He could feel the thick swell of tears again, swallowing them back barely.

They were together. Hayato was safe, wasn’t dead, didn’t hate him. He turned, sagging against the wall and pulling his lover against him again as the adrenaline of finding him dropped.

He was so tired…

"Here… I’ll let you talk to him for a few minutes. We’ll be on a plane tomorrow. I miss home."

Tsuna groaned and leaned back against the counter, scrubbing a hand over his face tiredly as he muttered, “Salerno… Jesus, can’t you two fight like normal couples?” Still, there was a fond note in his voice—he was annoyed, yes, from both a friend’s status and from a business point of view. He’d been without his right-hand man for over a month now, and while he’d been able to rely on people like Reborn (occasionally) and Ryohei (sort of) and Lambo (not really except in a pinch), he needed someone there who was intelligent enough to understand what he needed without needing to implicitly say it, as well as someone loyal enough to do anything he asked.

He’d… he’d missed Gokudera far, far more than he’d expected.

Gokudera was, understandably, hesitant when he took the phone from his lover. “H-heyy, Juudaime,” he said cautiously, and he flinched away when he heard a sharp inhale from the other side of the line.

"Don’t you ever do this shit again, Hayato,” Tsuna growled, his eyes flashing orange as he clenched his phone tight in his hand.

The bomber’s eyes widened as his cheeks flushed in shame. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Good. When I give you a mission with someone, you’d better do it with them. And I don’t care how bad you and Yamamoto fight; if youever think it’s bad enough to leave again, you tell me first. You need space? Fine, but I need to know where that space is. Do you understand me?”

Hayato felt like shit. “Yessir. Of course, Juudaime, I… I didn’t think—”

"No, you didn’t," Tsuna said, his voice suddenly weary and small and scared. "Please… Please don’t ever make me live through that again. I was so afraid, every day, that he was going to find you dead and he… He lost you once already, Gokudera-kun; I don’t think he could do it again. I don’t think I could do it again.”

The Storm’s eyes filled again, spilled over as he leaned against Takeshi, and nodded, whispering, “I… I promise, I’ll… I’m so sorry, l-let me make it up to you—”

The Sky’s voice was soft now, concerned and a little bit happy because no matter how displeased he was that Gokudera had run off, he was coming back now. It was going to be okay. “Make it up to me by coming home. By the time you two get to the airport in Rome, you’ll have a flight booked. Get some rest tonight, both of you. And please, for the love of all things sacred, please make him eat something.”

Gokudera laughed, cut a look to Takeshi (who did look a bit underfed—the clothes that used to fit him so well were a little baggy now, and his eyes looked tired and sad) and nodded. “Of course.” He murmured a soft goodbye, slipped Takeshi’s phone back into his pocket, and then looped an arm around his neck, pulling the brunet down for a slow, sweet kiss.

"You need to eat something. So do I. Come on, I’ll drink too much wine and you can carry me home."

His eyes had slipped shut, not really able to handle watching Hayato cry again. Everything was still too raw, too fresh for him. He could hear Tsuna’s tone, but not the words, and he wondered a bit that he hadn’t received his own scolding… that would probably come from Reborn when they finally got home.

The sudden weight in his pocket startled him, and he blinked, opening his eyes just in time to close them again as he melted into the Storm’s kiss. Gods, he’d missed him so much…

The thought of food still twisted his stomach, but he shrugged… it was just easier to go along with him than to argue. He snagged the almost-burnt out cigarette from Hayato and took a final drag with a soft sigh. “How about we skip the wine and just get something to eat back at the hotel?”

All he really wanted to do was lay down, wrap himself around his lover and not let him go. Possibly for a year or so. Food, Tsuna, the flight home - it could all wait. Making sure Hayato was real, making sure this wasn’t another elaborate nightmare… that’s all that mattered at the moment.

"If you keep taking my cigarettes, stronzo, I’m gonna punch you,” Hayato said fondly, threading his fingers through the bigger man’s and pulling him towards the commercial side of Salerno, where he knew the hotels that actually looked like hotels were, the ones where Takeshi would be staying.

He wasn’t going to lie, though, ordering expensive room service and eating it in the comfort of a bed, wrapped around Takeshi… hell, being in a bed, wrapped around Takeshi (and wow, he meant that in every way) sounded like a solid fucking plan right now.

But like hell he was going to make it seem that easy. “Non sei mai stato veramente ubriaco fino a che non hai ubriaco il vino italiano,” the bomber said sagely, trying to make his words seem deep and wise, hoping his lover hadn’t picked up enough Italian to understand that no, there was nothing deep or wise about that. “You always say I’m more fun when I’m a little drunk.”

"Maa, I’ll just buy you another pack when I get mine." He followed easily, letting the bomber take the lead while he just enjoyed the view. The Italian phrase made him laugh, shaking his head.

"Then I’ve been drunk… everyone in this country is insistent on getting tourists trashed, apparently." He’d heard it so often over the last month, and had to turn down more offers for alcohol-induced bad decisions than he could count. "I just… I don’t want to deal with it tonight, ok?"

He turned them down a different street, heading to a small convenience store he’d found a couple days before on his way to the hit. The cigarettes were cheap and the girl behind the counter was cute and gave him discounts for a smile. It was a good system.

He grabbed two packs of Hayato’s brand and a couple bottles of soda, setting them on the counter and grinning broadly at her. “Ciao, bellissima, come sei stato?”

“Annoiato, amore. E ‘morto oggi. Proprio questo o di…” She winked with bright smile. “posso interessare a qualcosa d’altro?”

"Maa, tesoro, ti ho detto non devo tempo per quella ora. Forse più tardi." He handed her a small pile of cash as she rung him up.

"Everyone in this country is insistent upon getting trashed. Tourists are incidental," Gokudera said, laughing quietly, secretly impressed that his lover had picked up on that. Maybe Takeshi had just been lazy about learning languages? The bomber shrugged—probably not. Italians were fond of getting a little bit drunk—ubriaco was probably one of the first words the locals taught him.

He snorted as he was pulled down an alley, recognizing the part of town as one he’d meant to check out—it was off of Via Roma, so there were less tourists, and there were more actual Italian shops, stores and restaurants and the like run by natives, not by “natives.”

In all honesty, he didn’t even notice the girl behind the counter until Takeshi started flirting—flirting—with her, and what the hell, he’d never even flirted with him!

And she flirted back, asking if posso interessare a qualcosa d’altro—he would shove a stick of dynamite up her twat and take the whole fucking store down with it. He was seething, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his palms, but then Takeshi, fucking Takeshi, teased forse più tardi and oh.

Oh, hell no.

"Ok, whoa, aspetta.” Hayato’s voice was sharp as it cracked through the store, rage making the normally melodic language biting and dangerous. “Chi cazzo pensi che stai parlando, tesoro? Stai cazzo miprendi in giro adesso? Sei fortunato che sto troppo acceso da quel piccolo di visualizzazione per saltare questo contatore e tagliare ti, ma , se tantoun’occhiata al mio ragazzo con qualcosa di meno di disinteresse palese, .Ora, se non ti dispiace, ho intenzione di portarlo di nuovo al nostro albergoe stiamo andando a scopare fino a quando non posso cazzo supportodomani. Arrivaderci, bellissima.”

With a glare that could have, should have been able to set the bitch aflame right then and there, Gokudera grabbed Takeshi’s hand in his and stormed out of the shop, angrily fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one up as he snarled, “Hai appena iniziato a flirtare con tutti da quando sono stato via, o è che cagna speciale?”

Takeshi snagged the cigarettes and drinks off the counter as Hayato dragged him out of the store with an apologetic smile for the enraged, embarrassed young lady behind the register.

It dropped as soon as they got outside, Hayato’s accusation ringing painfully in his ears. “I learned it from you, amore. If you flirt and smile with locals, you get things.” He tossed him the second pack of cigarettes before packing his own, pulling one out and lighting it. It amused him that the Storm hadn’t even questioned it yet…

"That being said, no, actually. I haven’t been flirting with, or seeing anyone since you vanished. I’ve been too busy trying to find you, to apologize to you and bring you home.”

He took a long drag from the smoke, closing his eyes for a second. It wasn’t really that he was angry, but… “Do you really think that lowly of me? Really, Hayato?”

"I don’t flirt with anyone. I glare at them in surly anger until they either kick me out or give me what I want. I’m not a people person, remember?” he snapped, catching the pack and shoving it into his back pocket as he stormed back towards the main road.

Of course he knew he was being unfair, but he didn’t realize it until Takeshi stopped dead, stopped and told him plainly that he hadn’t and the guilt hit Gokudera like a punch to the gut, hard enough to wind him. He turned and looked at his lover, his face completely stricken.

"I… God, no, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that—Christ, Take, I didn’t—” he cut himself off, pulled his cigarette from his mouth and scrubbed his hand over his face, pressing his fingers to his eyes in order to staunch the tears he could feel burning there. He’d already cried enough today, thank-you-very-much.

With his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, Hayato slunk back over to Takeshi, tucked his face into the crook of the swordsman’s shoulder, and looped his arms around him in a loose hold. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against his skin.

He sighed softly, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the top of his head. “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have snapped. Let’s just go to the hotel, ok?” He pulled back a bit, tilting the bomber’s chin up and smiling at him warmly. “I love you. And I’m still guilty as hell that I hurt you.”

He nuzzled his cheek, turning him so they could walk with Takeshi’s arm still around his waist. All he wanted to do was lay down. Screw food, screw sleep, screw Italy and the mafia and everything else… he just wanted to be in a bed, with Hayato in his arms. He knew they were just getting bitchy because they were still emotional and stressed.

He really just wanted to prove to himself that his lover was still alive, still with him.

Hayato nodded, pulling one of his piercings into his mouth and gnawing on it a little as he stared up at his lover, pressed a kiss to his face and pulled away, letting Takeshi lead the way to the hotel. He was abnormally quiet and reserved on the walk, didn’t bother filling the silence like he normally would and instead stroked his thumb over the Rain’s knuckles, smoked his cigarette down to the butt and tossed it away.

"Why did you start smoking?" he asked, watching as Yamamoto smoked his cigarette much more slowly. The bigger man had always been so adamantly against it, pushing for Gokudera to quit, so the fact that he’d picked up the (admittedly) bad habit was… confusing.

A flush started high on his cheeks as the bomber asked the question he’d been kind of dreading. It was embarrassing to admit it, but… He finished his cigarette, tossing the butt away and looking down at him.

"I missed you." It sounded simple, but… "You… it was a smell thing at first. I just… I lit them because you always smell like cigarettes and gunpowder, and… well, it made me feel a little less lonely, ya know?" He looked away, staring up at the cars that traveled next to them. "I started smoking them to see what drew you to them, and… I just haven’t stopped." He swallowed, taking a deep breath and trying to curb the tears threatening.

"Tsuna’ll be disappointed, I’m sure. But he doesn’t know yet… I haven’t seen him since two days after you left."

Oh.

Gokudera froze, his eyes wide as he stared at his lover. He stopped walking, stopped, moving, stopped breathing for a second and then suddenly he was pressing forward, curling his arms around Takeshi’s neck to pull him down into a deep, greedy kiss.

"You have to stop," he said, licking the taste of nicotine out of the bigger man’s mouth, rubbing his thumbs across his cheekbones, under his eyes to catch a few errant tears. "You have to stop because if you need that smell so much, I have to be the one that does that for you. If you start smoking, too, what the hell do you need me for? No way. I’m not gonna let you smoke just to remember when I was gone."

He kissed Takeshi until his lips stung and only then did he pull away, lacing his fingers with the Rain’s as he elbowed him in the side and gave him a grin. “Come on, take me to bed, I haven’t gotten to do that lame couple cuddly shit in a month and a half. And I swear to god, if you tell anyone I actually like cuddling I’ll deny it and burn your baseball uniform.”

He’d been expecting ridicule, or anger, or even guilt. He hadn’t expected Hayato to simply stop moving, or to pull him into an almost dirty kiss in the middle of the main thoroughfare. Not that stopped him from returning the kiss, crushing his lithe lover against his chest and holding him there even as the silveret pulled away and stroked his face.

He’d been expecting to be told to stop. “I will, as long as you promise to never leave me again. Not like that, not because of a fight. I can’t… I don’t want to have to deal with it again.”

He could deal with the fast, sharp, almost desperate kisses… the way Hayato’s new piercings dug into his flesh a bit when the Storm got too carried away, the way he clung to him as if he was just as afraid of Takeshi leaving. And he could definitely deal with that bright, happy grin that Hayato only ever gave to him and Tsuna.

"Maa, Hayato… you don’t threaten a man’s baseball uniform… that’s just dirty pool." He laughed, tugging his hand and quickly leading him back to his hotel.

It wasn’t one of the most prestigious places, but the single bed was made and the room was clean. A small dufflebag was the only sign in the room that Takeshi was staying, though his jacket was tossed on a chair as soon as they got through the door. His shirt followed, revealing how little the normally robust athlete had been eating, how poorly he’d been caring for himself. He flopped onto the bed, holding his arm out for the bomber.

"Come to bed, Hayato…"

"We’re in the mafia, Takeshi," Gokudera murmured, nipping at his lover’s lower lip as he pulled away, sucking it between his own and dragging his tongue across it. He let it go as he sank back onto his feet, licking his own lips, making a show of gathering up Takeshi’s taste and grinning as he watched those dark eyes watch his mouth. "Playing dirty is what we do."

The silveret didn’t miss the urgency Takeshi dragged him towards the hotel with, and though he didn’t say a word, he made sure to press himself as close as he possibly could to the brunet, pressing kisses to his neck or his shoulder whenever he could steal a private moment. It wasn’t long before they were climbing the stairs to the Rain’s rented room, shoving open the door and Yamamoto was already stripping, half-naked before the Storm could even glance around.

Takeshi looked… not bad, because it was impossible for the swordsman to look bad, Hayato was convinced, but he looked thin, noticeably thinner than normal, and the bomber scowled as he tugged off his own shirts, dropping them to the floor carelessly and toeing out of his shoes and socks, leaving him in a pair of loose-fitting jeans (that had fit him perfectly well three weeks ago, but that was neither here nor there; Gokudera was far more concerned about his lover’s wellbeing.)

He dropped his beanie on top of the pile and then happily crawled into bed beside Takeshi, tucking himself against the bigger man’s chest, hooking a leg over his hip and his arms around his shoulders. In the brief, comfortable silence, Hayato pressed a careful, loving kiss to the brunet’s throat.

"You haven’t been eating, have you?" he asked simply, pressing his cheek to Takeshi’s chest to hide the worry in his eyes.

Takeshi shrugged, arms around Hayato and holding him close. “Haven’t really been hungry.” His fingers played at the bomber’s ribs, pointing them out. “You can’t even yell at me, love…” The last almost two months had been terrible for both of them, and all the Rain wanted to do was erase it from their memories.

It wasn’t possible, of course… he knew he was going to be haunted by his lover’s ‘death’ and subsequent disappearance for a long time. But they could try, right? At least… well, at least consciously.

"Let’s… can we just maybe let this go? It’s such a fucked up situation, but really… neither of us did anything wrong, exactly. I just… I don’t want to think about it anymore. Not if I have a choice.”

He tilted Hayato’s face up, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you. No matter what else happens, that’s never going to change.”

"It’s different for me. I don’t swing around a weapon the actual size of my body," Gokudera grumbled, smacking his lover’s hands away and wrapping his own around his torso instead, suddenly self-conscious.

"Honestly, the sooner we put this away, the better. This… This hasn’t been a good month," he whispered. The bomber closed his eyes against the gentle kisses, feeling a pang in his heart, a burning that felt like a sweet pain, nothing at all like the agony that had been eating at him for near two months.

He uncurled his arms, pulled his lover down and kissed him, pressing as close as he possibly could and sighing at the simple pleasure of having this again, knowing that Takeshi was here.

A groan slipped from him as the bomber pressed their bodies together again and he kissed him back, parting his lips and rolling them over so his lover was pinned to the bed. He pulled back, smiling down at him before leaning down to kiss his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone. Any bit of skin he could get his lips on, he licked and kissed as if he was reclaiming territory.

"Hayato… my Hayato…" His voice was thick with desire and tears, letting his hands roam along pale flesh as he looked back up at him. He was real, he was there and not one of Takeshi’s almost endless nightmares. A soft sob slipped from him as he surged forward, kissing him almost roughly.

Gokudera swallowed Takeshi’s groan and gave one in return, pushing his tongue into the bigger man’s mouth to greedily taste as much of him as he could. When the Rain pushed him, he went willingly, shifting around until he could spread his legs, letting the brunet fall between them and sighing as he finally got a bit of the relief he didn’t know he needed.

He’d missed the weight of the swordsman on him, he’d missed his warmth and his smell and his taste and he was thankful for Yamamoto’s mouth on his own, because Christ, it was so close to just tumbling out.

Except that then Takeshi’s mouth was slanting off of his jaw, sliding down his neck and making the silveret arch and gasp, leaving his mouth nothing to do but form those damned words.

"T-Takeshi," he gasped, "I… Oh m-my god, mi sei mancato. Mi mancava la tua bocca, cristo, mi mancava il tuo assaggiare, mi mancava il tuo corpo e il tuo sorriso stupido e cazzo mi mancava le tue mani—”

The swordsman’s mouth cut him off as he hiccuped, choked on a sob and wrapped himself bodily around his boyfriend, the need to be near him an actual, physical ache now. He dug his fingers into the hard line of Takeshi’s back and tightened his legs around the man’s thighs, around his hips, crushing their bodies together and reveling in the feeling of being whole again.

Hayato’s scent, his body, his voice surrounded Takeshi, soothed him and helped fill in some of the cracks the time without him had worn into the swordsman. He knew he was crying again, couldn’t be bothered to stop as he rocked his hips down, desperate for all the contact he could get.

He was suddenly, achingly aroused; his pants were far too tight and he needed them off yesterday. He pulled back just a bit, fumbling at the button before finally just ripping it off, kicking his pants away and starting on the Storm’s. Clumsy fingers made better work of his jeans, spurred mostly by the knowledge that Hayato would kill him if he ruined the only pair of pants he had at the hotel.

A soft curse slipped from him as he realized how completely unprepared he was for this… as much as he wanted to be inside his bomber, lube and condoms weren’t high on his packing priority list. He hadn’t even touched himself, far too preoccupied with guilt and the seemingly endless search for his lover to even consider it.

With another muttered expletive, he wrapped long fingers around both of their lengths, stroking gently at first, though it wasn’t long before the combination of carnal want and desperate need had his hand flying over them. He licked into Hayato’s mouth, needing to touch as much of him as possible.

Not dead, not dead, not dead, not dead, not dead

He didn’t intend to make such a nakedly wanton sound when Takeshi rutted down against him, pushed his cock against the hard line of his own and made Hayato realize how hard he was, how hard they both were, and suddenly he needed the Rain inside him. He needed his lover as close as he could possibly get, to be swept away by the swordsman, to be claimed and reminded what he’d left, what he’d foolishly fucked up, what he’d almost lost.

Takeshi sat up and tore off his own pants, and Gokudera tried to find the words to tell him that he still carried a little bubble of lube and a condom in his wallet—old habits died hard, after all, and the Storm had always been the one with the forethought to be prepared for their sometimes-unexpected trysts. His words weren’t working, though, especially not when his lover was shaking, staring down at him with open adoration and want and need that had the smaller man gasping, had him pulling the brunet back against him the moment he’d kicked his own pants away from himself.

He keened as Yamamoto’s hand curled around them, calloused fingers gripping their lengths and stroking and oh… His eyes fluttered shut, his back arched and Gokudera sought Takeshi’s mouth with his own, muffling his sob into their messy, desperate kiss.

Yamamoto was clearly just as wrecked as he was—gone was the gentle patience that normally accompanied sex. He spared no time to try and take the bomber apart with his hands and mouth and voice and cock, not like he normally did, but this was good, this was what he needed, all hot and slick and hungry, half-sobbed whispers of each other’s names under the wet sound of Takeshi’s fist jerking them quickly, and fuck, it was good.

Hayato’s hips jumped in time with the Rain’s fingers, his mouth hanging open in a silent cry as his lover’s tongue violated him, licked into him and left him writhing, left him burning. “T-Take—fuck, fuck—Takeshi, please, o-oh my god—” the Storm gasped, digging his nails into the swordsman’s back as heat pooled in his belly, tightened his muscles and burned under his skin.

Later… later Takeshi would take the time to prepare him, to stretch him open, to taste him and make him sob on just his tongue and fingers. He would take the time to fuck into him, to mark him and reclaim him and let everyone know that Hayato belonged only to him. Later he would take the time to go slow, to make it last, to leave them both breathless and unable to move, passing out from bliss and exhaustion in each other’s arms.

Later, when he could think past the pain, the need, the unrelenting thrum of skin that was too tight and a heart that was too full.

In this moment, he was too far, too fast to make this anything but the desperate, animalistic rut that it was. He needed to feel Hayato cum, he needed his own release, and he needed them now; probably needed them over a month ago. He needed the reminder that they were both alive and safe, that they were together and his lover wasn’t going to be ripped away from him as soon as he woke up.

The Storm’s nails in his back, the steady litany of curses and pleas and the way he stiffened underneath him were quickly overwhelming the Rain, muscles tensing as he tightened his fingers and came across their chests with a loud cry.

Gokudera couldn’t stop the pathetic sounds tumbling from his lips, and honestly, he had given up trying. It seemed like every time he drew breath, he was choking on a moan; every time he pushed one out, it was a long, low whimper, a sharp, choked gasp of Takeshi’s name, a half-formed plea wrapped up in a sob.

And he was sobbing—he was weeping, Takeshi’s name like a prayer on his lips because he was here, he was here and he was the closest thing to a god Hayato had, that he’d ever had and this, now, here, with Takeshi, was the only religion he’d ever need.

Hayato dragged his nails down the Rain’s back and arched sharply, pressing his body up against the bigger man’s as he felt the swordsman shake, felt him come apart and he followed, tumbled down that precipice with him. The silveret came with a hoarse shout, clinging to his lover as he trembled with the force of it, as he wept because this, the touch of his lover and the taste of him, the weight of him and his heat, his voice and his everything was too much and not enough, it was never going to be enough.

"Takeshi," he gasped when he could finally form words again, his voice raw and open in a way it had never been before. "Takeshi, I—god… I love you—I love you, please, please don’t ask me to leave again, I c-can’t—I won’t make it, fuck, don’t make me leave again, please.”

It felt like forever, and not long enough, before Takeshi finally sagged on top of Hayato, heart-breaking sobs ripping through him as he tried to muffle them in the bomber’s neck.

He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t think… all he could do was cry and shake his head. No, no no no, Hayato would never have to leave, would never be allowed to leave; he was considering cuffing the Storm to his side so he never lost him again.

For now, though, all he could do was soak the pillow and his lover’s shoulder with tears, shaking them both with his fear, his pain, and his overwhelming relief. He hadn’t just found his missing boyfriend… it was like Hayato was somehow resurrected, like he’d risen from the grave when Takeshi was sure he’d lost him forever.

He hadn’t realized how messed up he still was over his ‘death’ until just then.

The tears finally slowed to great, hiccuping gasps that he tried to hide with a humorless chuckle. “Hayato can’t leave me again… I wouldn’t survive it. I almost-” He stopped, bit his lip hard and started to pull away. “We… we should get cleaned up.”

Hayato held Takeshi to him as he sobbed, brokenly whispering apologies and consolations as he wept, too, though his sorrow had always been more reserved, more quiet, and he silently pressed his tears to the top of his lover’s head, though there was no way to hide how his body shook with sobs.

Takeshi may not have died, but Hayato had lost him just as truly, had had to live knowing that the one person he’d given everything to, the one person that he would do anything, would give anything for would rather live without him.

The bomber wept like he hadn’t in years, like he hadn’t let himself do in a month and a half, like he hadn’t cried since his mother died, since he left home, since he’d been rejected and refused and turned away from every family he’d known.

His breath was still hitching when his lover calmed down, but he didn’t loosen his grip at all, pressed a smattering of kisses over whatever skin he could reach as he whispered fiercely, “You will have to knock me unconscious and leave me in a ditch in a different fucking country, one whose language I don’t speak, in order to keep me away from you for any longer than necessary.”

The silveret tightened his limbs around the swordsman when he tried to pull away, a sharp whine tumbling from his lips as he pleaded, “Just—just wait. Just wait, please just… Takeshi, just stay here. Please. Just f-for a little while longer.” It was unlike him, he knew it, but he just… he needed this. He needed this, and he wasn’t ready to give it up yet.

He was scared… he’d almost let something slip that he wasn’t ready for his lover to know… maybe ever. But the soft pleas couldn’t be denied and he settled back again, tightening his grip around the smaller frame and sighing shakily against his skin. He finally closed his eyes, breathing in the strange mix of scents that always meant comfort, love, and home to him. They made him dizzy.

"I’m… I’m sorry, love. Please… just…" He couldn’t do this, didn’t want to do this. “It hurts too much. I just… I want to clean up and crawl back into bed, and just not move.” He was so selfish, but… If he laid there without any buffer time, he was going to open his mouth and ruin everything…

He could not deal with it if Hayato was mad at him right now. He just… he already felt fragile enough.

There was something else they were supposed to be doing too, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember what it was. His head lifted and he nuzzled his lover’s cheek with his nose, a very tiny smile on his lips. “Please?”

Yeah, that was what he needed—he needed the swordsman’s strong arms to crush him to his body, let him feel the bumps and ridges of muscle and bone and remind him that he wasn’t alone anymore. Gokudera nosed into Takeshi’s hair and breathed in deep, breathed in and felt his lungs loosen for the first time in weeks, felt his ribs expand and make room for the breath, for his heart, which had decided to put itself back together (slowly) and move back to its spot.

The bomber stubbornly held on until the Rain lifted his head, nuzzled his cheek, and then the silveret cracked open an eye to stare, waiting until his mouth was close enough to kiss before he moved again.

"Alright, fine," the Storm whispered grudgingly, loosening his octopus-hold on the brunet and sitting up as Yamamoto did. He reached a hand up to brush his knuckled across Takeshi’s cheek, sucking one of his piercings into his mouth and gnawing on it as he swiped his thumb over the bigger man’s cheekbone.

"I… I’m sorry for… for leaving," he whispered. It obviously took him a lot to say that—he’d spent the first few weeks here livid, angry that Takeshi had ordered him out, even angrier that he’d just gone, hadn’t stayed and fought for the man he claimed to love so much.

He hated himself for that.

"I’m sorry, Take… I love you."

That soft touch felt amazing… He leaned into the brush on his cheek, smiling at the silveret and leaning forward to kiss him softly. “I’m sorry for making you leave. Please… just understand that I never wanted you to leave… I honestly thought I was seeing things. I love you too. Always. There is nothing you can do that will make me want you to go away.”

"Well, except haunt me when ‘your body’ is found decapitated in a tub…"

He allowed himself a small chuckle, despite how shaky he still was. Maybe one day, this would be a funny story… something they could tell their kids.

His hands slid underneath the bomber’s back and knees, scooping him up and standing. “Shower. By the time we get out, Tsuna will probably have texted our itinerary and we can think about getting some sleep.”

He just prayed he could sleep… Hayato was there, hopefully the nightmares would stay away.

Hayato grimaced, looking away and grumbling, “Okay, listen, I can explain—” only to stop, giving a small (completely manly) squeak as strong arms lifted him from the bed. He scowled and gave his lover a pointed glare despite the pleased flush on his cheeks—okay, so maybe he was a bit weak to the way Takeshi could move him around like a doll.

"I can walk, you know," he mumbled, leaning his cheek against Takeshi’s shoulder despite his protests, one hand moving to rest over the fingers curled around his ribcage. He didn’t let himself show physical affection much, not like this, and for the first time he asked himself why the hell not. This was… this, the simple touch of the Rain’s skin, the comfort he got from leaning against his chest, the warmth that soaked into his soul, this was something he should take advantage of more often.

When his lover started their shower and set him down, the bomber immediately gravitated back to him, leaning his back against the bigger man’s chest and sighing as they stood beneath the spray. He pulled Takeshi’s arms around himself and pressed back, tipping his head up to press a kiss to the underside of the swordsman’s jaw.

“Mi sei mancato. Ogni secondo di ogni giorno, mi sei mancato.”

He didn’t completely understand the new Italian phrase, but he got the jist of it at least. “I’ll always find you, Hayato. I don’t ever want to do this again.” He smiled at the sweet gesture, so unlike his usually shy and brash Storm, tilting his head down to kiss him.

He grabbed the crappy hotel soap and lathered his hands, letting them slide soothingly along the bomber’s frame. Despite the warm water and very pretty picture in front of him, he found himself more exhausted then aroused, finally just tucking his head in the crook of the silveret’s neck and holding him as the water poured over them. It was far too much effort to move, or to think.

It was ridiculous how much he just wanted to be held and petted and told that everything was going to be all right.

Gokudera hummed a quiet agreement and leaned back to accept the bigger man’s kiss, reaching a hand up to cup Yamamoto’s cheek, drawing out the kiss just a little longer, just because he couldn’t really believe it, still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Takeshi was here now.

He sighed as his lover pulled away from him and soaped up his hands, dragged them along his body and even though he should have been turned on, he was more just… he was so relieved, he was so tired, he was drained and it felt like Takeshi’s hands on his body were the only things keeping him attached to the earth. Without his Rain, he was pretty sure he’d just…

Hayato gave another sigh, a deeper one, as Takeshi pushed his face into the crook of his neck and held him close. The silveret placed his hands over the brunet’s and pressed his face to the crown of his head, pressed a kiss to him and turned in his arms, seeming to understand that the swordsman needed this as much as he did, needed to be wrapped in his arms as much as Hayato needed it, too.

"I’m not going anywhere," he whispered against Takeshi’s ear, pulling away just slightly to return the favor, soaping up his hands and dragging them slowly over the bigger man’s body. Once they were both clean, he wrapped his arms tight around the brunet’s waist, leaned his head against his chest and pressed a kiss to his collarbone, giving a long, slow sigh.

"Let’s go to bed. It’s been almost two months since I slept more than two hours at a time."

He nodded, turning the water off and stepping out of the shower. It didn’t take them long to dry off and Takeshi tugged Hayato silently back to the bed. A quick check of his phone said they were leaving at six in the evening the following day, so he tossed it off to the side, ignoring the thud as it hit the floor.

As soon as Hayato had cuddled up into his arms, Takeshi gave a soft, almost pained sigh of relief and closed his eyes. He was asleep only minutes later, the physical and emotional exhaustion catching up to him all at once.

It was almost a full two hours later before the Rain started whimpering. He rolled away from Hayato, thrashing a bit before he sat straight up, eyes wide open but blank as a scream was ripped from his throat. Cold sweat soaked his skin and tears poured down his cheeks. “Hayato!!”

Gokudera was unused to seeing Takeshi so careless with his things, so when the bigger man just tossed his phone, just let it clatter to the floor to pull him into bed, the silveret snorted and fell with him, pressing himself bodily against his lover. He nosed into his neck, rested his lips against the hollow of his throat, and curled his arms tight around the swordsman, feeling the burn of tears at the back of his eyes, the tightness of emotion in his throat.

He’d missed this so much more than he realized.

"I love you," he said, choked it out, clung to Takeshi until he fell into an uneasy sleep. He kept thinking it was a dream, kept dreaming that he woke up without Takeshi there, woke up alone and sobbing into his pillow again, woke up with the sounds of those words, bitter and angry and spiteful and so full of hate ringing in his ears.

It seemed as though a good night’s sleep was going to avoid him tonight, too. With a huff, the bomber pushed himself out of bed, kissed the dip of Takeshi’s shoulder and grabbed his cigarettes, padding out onto the small balcony as he lit one up. He didn’t notice the thrashing, didn’t hear the soft, choked sobs, but he certainly heard when the swordsman sat bolt upright, screamed his name from the throes of his waking nightmare.

Hayato jumped, dropped his cigarette and scurried back into the room, sliding back onto the bed and curling his arms tight around his lover. He stroked his hair, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head, and whispered, “Hey, shh, I’m here, okay? Wake up, Take, I’m here, I swear, baby. Wake up… Please, hey, come on…”

It took him a minute, shaking violently and gasping in breath before he finally, slowly turned his eyes down, stared at the bomber next to him like he’d seen a ghost… or a miracle.

"Hayato… god…" His arms wrapped around the silveret and crushed him against his chest, trying desperately, but unsuccessfully, to curb his tears. He didn’t speak at all for a few minutes, just relearning how to breathe with the bomber in his arms. When the feeling of his heart trying to pound out of his ribs finally lessened, he laid back, pulling Hayato onto his chest and running his hands up and down his lover’s sides.

He needed to remind himself that Hayato was alive, was there and safe.

"When I found out… Tsuna was wrecked, and I guess he wasn’t thinking. Or maybe he trusted me… I don’t know. But. He left. And all I knew was that you were gone and he was gone and I was alone…"

A shudder wracked through him and he closed his eyes. Knowing Hayato would see eventually, he lifted a hand, showing a faint, jagged scar down his forearm. It looked like it had been healed for years, but it definitely wasn’t there before the bomber had left on his mission. “Ryohei showed up… I’ve never seen him so angry. Tsuna… he doesn’t know, or I don’t think he’d have let me leave in the first place, but…

"My nightmares… they’re never about you dying… they’re always about me dying and you still hating me… or me being dead and you finding my body…”

He was so tired, so sick of crying and hurting and feeling the gnawing, empty bitterness building in his chest, but… How could he complain when Takeshi gave a sharp exhale, breathed his name like it was a prayer, and crushed him to his chest like that? How could he complain when he looked at him like he was everything he ever wanted? How could he possibly complain when he had Takeshi back?

He buried his tears in the bigger man’s chest as he held the Rain, soaking up his warmth until the man shifted, pulled away and tugged at Gokudera until his smaller body was splayed over his own. The silveret sighed, shifted so that none of his awkward angles dug into his lover, and rested his head over Yamamoto’s heart. It was stupid, it was cliché and childish, but he needed to hear the strong pulse in his ear.

His lover’s voice startled him. Green eyes glanced up, but Takeshi’s gaze was far away so he let his eyes fall again, his heart clenching at the swordsman’s words, a sick feeling of dread creeping over him. He dragged his gaze to the offered limb and he heard the anger that buzzed in his mind, the anger and the hurt and the outrage that Takeshi would try to… to…

Hayato closed his eyes and ignored the wetness that clumped his lashes, instead reaching out to curl his fingers around the swordsman’s wrist, bringing the bigger man’s arm closer. He pressed a line of kisses down the length of the scar, rested his cheek against it and tried to hide how tears dripped quietly down his cheeks—he couldn’t be angry, not really, not when he’d done the exact same thing.

Well. Not the exact same—Takeshi was brave in a way he could never be, courageous and strong, and though it was sick to think it, Gokudera could admit that it took that kind of strength, that kind of courage to actively try to take one’s life.

Instead, Gokudera had… He’d gotten into fights he knew he’d lose with groups of rival families that he’d seen out and about. He was on their turf and he knew it, but if they’d just kill him… The name of the Vongola was too strong, though, and they’d always left him alive, dragged him through streets and alleys until he was out of their territory, left him there to bleed and drag himself back upright. Or he’d stared at the busy traffic in Roma, in Napoli, in Salerno; he’d stared and he’d stepped out into the street only to have a quick passerby drag him out of the way, a quick driver swerve. Or he’d drank himself into a stupor, drank well past the point he should have, drank and drank and drank and passed out in an alley or alone in his hotel room only to wake in a hospital, or in a strange room, or in his own bed with someone tending to him, helping his body purge itself of poison rather than letting him choke and die on it.

Gokudera understood the helplessness that came with losing his other half.

Takeshi never, ever needed to know that, though, so he just shushed him, pressed another line of kisses down the length of the scar and then shifted to press one to the bigger man’s lips, chaste and sweet and tender. “Remind me to thank Ryohei,” he whispered, “and to punch you. Even when I’m gone, don’t you fucking dare, don’t you dare kill yourself, idiot. If you die, who’s gonna remember that I wasn’t just some asshole with dynamite? And who will look after Tsuna and the family? You have to keep going. You have to live, please, Takeshi, I’m not worth your death. I’m not.”

He took a shaky breath and lifted his hand, resting his palm against his lover’s cheek to steady himself as he pushed up, pressing his mouth more firmly against Yamamoto’s. He didn’t want to relive his nightmares, he didn’t want to think about what dream-Takeshi had said and done, so he drowned his fears and his worries in his lover instead.

It was easier this way.

Takeshi sighed, sobbed almost, against his mouth, pulling him tighter and kissing him back. He was still shaken from his nightmare, and his confession, and the niggling thought in the back of his mind that Hayato might have tried something similar and no one would have been there to stop him.

He quickly decided he didn’t want to know. There were levels of guilt he couldn’t handle.

The cellphone trilled loudly in the gloom of the setting sun, actually making the Rain jump and almost bite Hayato’s lip. He laughed a bit, leaning up to kiss him quickly in apology before rolling him off his chest to go for the phone. “That’ll be Tsuna… again. Maybe he got us an earlier flight.”

Flipping the phone open, he blinked and started laughing harder, tossing the phone gently to the bomber. Only one line had been sent, and it was obviously from their boss.

[From: Tsuna] Eat, idiots.

Shaking his head, he sat up and kissed Hayato’s forehead, padding over to grab his pants. Boxers slid on, cigarettes and lighter were slipped from the pocket and he glanced at the Storm and then towards the balcony; an obvious invitation.

Gokudera had gotten quite comfortable here astride his lover, rocked his hips down to show it, swallowed Takeshi’s sigh and pressed his palms to the bigger man’s face to swallow his sad sigh. He wanted nothing more than to kiss away his sadness, to touch and taste and reassure and remember what it was like to have complete safety, to be completely loved.

Of course, Takeshi’s phone picked that exact moment to ring, and the silveret broke away with a soul-deep groan, pressing his face to his lover’s shoulder and scowling against his skin. He took the phone as it was passed to him, groaning but smiling—leave it to their friend to care for them from half the world away.

With a reluctant sigh, the silveret rolled off of the Rain, flopping onto his back and staring obviously as the swordsman strode across the room, his green eyes burning as he watched the play of muscles under tanned skin. Yamamoto may have been thinner, true, but his body was still quite a sight to behold.

He heaved another sigh and stood, stretching and popping the joints in his back, and then stepped into his own loose jeans, foregoing underwear altogether, instead fishing around for his own pack of cigarettes and joining his lover out on the balcony, scowling again when the brunet beside him lit up.

"You really should quit, you know. Only one of us is allowed to get cancer, asshole."

"Maa, I will." Once they were home, and safe. Until then… he pulled in another lungful of smoke, feeling the trembling fading away. He shifted, moving so he could bracket Hayato against the rail, nuzzling into his neck between drags.

As terrifying as his nightmare had been, waking up to his Storm in his arms calming him had fixed something in him. As the initial mind-numbing fear had faded, he felt lighter and more focused than he had in almost two months. He pressed sweet, gentle kisses to his shoulder, smiling against his skin.

"Mmmm, what does Hayato want to eat?" He didn’t honestly care, but he really wanted to get some food in his lover - he was far too thin and it was about time that Takeshi started taking care of him properly again. "We can go out, or we can scandalize the delivery people by greeting them mostly naked." And he was going to be making at least one trip out, because he needed supplies.

Making a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat, Gokudera leaned back against the rail, resting his elbows on it and tipping his head back to blow his cigarette smoke towards the sky. It was a testament to how lost in thought he was that he didn’t realize how close Takeshi was until his arms were on either side of him, his face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Lazily, the smaller man lifted a hand and pushed it into Yamamoto’s hair, curling his fingers into it and stroking his lover’s scalp. The smile against his skin brought a smile to his own lips, and though he still ached, he didn’t hurt anymore. Takeshi was here, within arms’ reach, and he was still in love with Hayato, just as desperately as the Storm was with him.

"Hayato isn’t very hungry," Gokudera murmured, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and, using a finger to tip Takeshi’s face up to his own, pressed a kiss to his lips, breathing the smoke into the Rain’s mouth as he lapped up his taste. He finally pulled away when his lungs began to burn from something other than the smoke, his pupils blown wide, and he cleared his throat, blushed and looked away, pushed his hand through his own hair before taking the last drag and crushing the butt under his bare heel.

“But, before you get pissy, I’ll eat. Let’s go grab something. It’ll be faster, you know? And I don’t want to have to wait for someone to bring us our shit. I know a place around here; pizza, fast and cheap and authentic, and the family that owns the place loves the shit outta me,” the bomber murmured. He made no move to remove himself from the swordsman, though, and instead curled his arms around the bigger man, pressing his lips to his temple.

Takeshi opened his mouth to argue that Hayato had to eat, that he knew he’d been skipping meals and he wasn’t allowed to anymore… to say anything really. But the finger against his chin startled him into silence, the press of lips against his own made him melt.

It took him a second to register what the silveret was doing and he automatically breathed the smoke in, clutching Hayato to him as his knees went a little weak and his head spun. He couldn’t tell if it was from the sudden inhalation of the smoke or the bomber’s actions, but either way, he wasn’t ready for it to stop.

"Hayato…" That… was definitely a whine. His lover was talking about pizza or something… fast and cheap… another whine slipped from him and he pressed the smaller form against the balcony rail, pressing his hips tight against the Storm’s. "Th-that… wasn’t fair…"

"D-do it again…"

Honestly, Hayato had not expected a reaction that strong. He gasped against Takeshi’s skin as the bigger man crushed their bodies together, squirmed between his legs to push and the bomber arched, giving a soft cry as he lifted a leg, hooked it around Takeshi’s hip and pushed back.

The demand shocked a laugh, breathless and light, out of him, and he fished his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, lit one with shaking fingers and pressed it to his lips, taking the first drag and letting the nicotine calm him a little. The second breath was deeper, burned a bit as he held it, pressed his mouth to Takeshi’s and exhaled as he kissed him.

This one wasn’t shy, it wasn’t hesitant, it wasn’t cautious; this time, when he kissed his lover, it was open-mouthed and filthy, his tongue sweeping between the swordsman’s lips to taste the acrid burn of smoke in his mouth. The burn faded, the smoke dissipated, and Gokudera pulled away to take another drag before diving back in, breathing the vapor into Takeshi’s lungs and chasing it with the taste of his own tongue.

He was almost expecting to be mocked for his desperate demand, so when Hayato wrapped himself around him, and pulled another one out, he whimpered, lifting him up and pressing him against the wall.

It was definitely the kisses that made him dizzy. The Storm’s tongue lapping inside his mouth made his hips rock up, desperate in a way that had nothing to do with loss or death and everything to do with needing to be inside his lover as quickly as possible.

He finally pulled back as the last of the second drag faded, panting harshly and staring up at him with eyes gone almost black with need. “God… fuck, Hayato… I want… I…” At one point, he had been able to speak in full sentences, though at the moment he couldn’t remember where, or how.

He gave up on talking, carrying the Storm back to the bed and laying him down. His hands slid along his bare ribs as he bent over, kissing a line down that slender chest towards his stomach.

This easy strength, the way it was like nothing for Takeshi to lift him, pin him and hold his weight, never failed to make Hayato dizzy with need, to make him writhe and lose his breath, to make him ache.

After nearly two months without a touch of any kind, that strength was enough to make him come undone. He curled his legs around Takeshi’s hips and used his added height to press down on the bigger man, sucking at the swordsman’s tongue lewdly, nipping at his lips, breathing poison between them until it was gone and only the taste of Takeshi remained.

Gokudera was panting by the time they pulled apart, his own green eyes glazed, dark and wild and hungryas he pushed his hips down, rutted against his lover with a breathy, wanton sound. “Yeah… Yeah, please, fuck—” the Storm gasped—his coherence had evaporated with the smoke, left behind nothing but a burn, a need, an ache that needed to be soothed with Takeshi’s body, a hole that needed to be filled with his cock, and he clung to the bigger man as he pushed away from the wall and moved back to the bed.

The silveret sighed as he was set down, spread his legs and pulled Takeshi between them, arched up at the gentle play of fingers on his chest. His fingers closed over the Rain’s, clinging to them as he tipped his head back and gave a low moan, even the brush of lips over his torso—slow and hot and promising—making his cock throb and his hips buck.

"Takeshi…"

His name sounded amazing on the Storm’s lips; a promise, a prayer as Takeshi moved down, nipping and licking and sucking at the flesh of his stomach. He untangled their fingers gently, trailed them down his sides and along his waist band. He undid the button of his jeans, kneeling on the floor and nosing at the silveret’s hard cock through the fabric for a moment.

An impish thought overtook him and he leaned up slightly, grabbing the tiny metal zipper with his teeth and staring with dark eyes up at his lover as he lifted it a bit and drug it down. He couldn’t help the low moan as Hayato’s cock sprung free of its confines. His boxers were already too tight, damp as just the thought of his Storm beneath him made him leak precum.

His hands tugged the loose jeans down as he licked a stripe up the bomber’s length. He opened his mouth, breathing hot air along his head before swallowing him down slowly.

Gokudera’s fingers moved from Takeshi’s to the sheets at the Rain’s gentle urging, tangling into the cotton as warm lips and blunt teeth made their way down his body. It was almost overwhelming, but the silveret couldn’t tear his eyes away, not when the brunet looked like that, so concentrated and playful, hungry and devious. Yamamoto nuzzled against his cock and Hayato arched, lips falling open in a silent cry as his hips twitched, pushed up insistently.

His breath caught audibly as Takeshi caught the tab of his zipper between his teeth and pulled down and he swore hoarsely, reaching down to run his fingers through dark hair, to curl his hand around the back of the Rain’s head. The blush that burned in his cheeks, down his neck and to his chest was hot as his length sprang free of the denim, smacked wetly against his belly and drooled as his lover tugged his pants down.

"T-Take—nnh! Oh… oh my god, Ta-Takeshi!” Gokudera gasped as the Rain dragged his tongue up along the length of him, his eyes slamming shut as he struggled to remember how to breathe, much less form words.

He gave up on words when the brunet wrapped his lips around him and sank down, wrapped him in wet and heat and fuck, it had been so long, it had been too long—Hayato whimpered and bucked up, bit his lip to stifle a cry as he felt the head of his cock bump the back of Takeshi’s throat. This… This was bad. There was no way he could last, not like this, not with his lover so good, so perfect, so hot and slick and tight around him, his tongue against his head and his lips around his length.

Fuck.

To say he’d missed the taste of his lover, the sounds he made and the feel of him shaking beneath him, would be an understatement. He was shaking himself, hands running along the silveret’s thighs as his head bobbed slowly up and down his length.

He could feel his muscles tensing under his fingers, feel the way he was shaking. As much as he wanted to tell him to just let go… he also wanted to enjoy this. He moaned around his shaft, teasing his tongue along the underside.

His own cock throbbed with need and he sighed around the bomber, pulling off teasingly. “Maa… don’t want to end the party so soon…” A hand moved over and tightened around the base of his cock, keeping the silveret from losing control. He trailed his tongue down, sucking his balls into his mouth for a moment before lifting him to lick a strip across his hole. “There’s so much more I want to do to you.”

He just hoped he’d be able to get to it all before he lost his own control.

Even the slow,the painfully slow pace that Takeshi took as he sucked his cock was nearly too much for Gokudera. He didn’t realize how starved for touch of any kind (but especially this kind—he was in his twenties, after all, his body still craved this like air) he’d been until he had Takeshi here, his mouth on his dick and his hands, warm and strong and grounding, on his thighs.

Fuck, he’d missed his Rain.

That moan nearly did him in, the way Takeshi’s tongue flit along the underside of him, along the frenulum and over the head of his cock brought him closer, and he was honestly only one carefully-placed brush of lips away from orgasm when, of course, the bigger man saw fit to pull off of him.

"Fucking—goddamnit, Takeshi, come on,” Hayato tried to growl, he did, but it ended up coming out as a whine, high and breathless, as he tugged at his lover’s hair. Strong fingers closed around the base of his cock and he damn near wailed, jerking his hips up just to find that there was no relief to be had there, either. His cock spasmed in his lover’s grip as that hot tongue slid down, pulled his balls into Yamamoto’s mouth, and he would have come then and there but the fucking grip the Rain had on him prevented it, aborted his release and made him writhe in agonized pleasure on the bed.

By the time he came down off of that, could blink away the colors spotting his vision, he found himself spread, his legs over either one of the swordsman’s shoulders as hot breath washed over his hole.

Green eyes popped wide. Hayato’s fingers scrambled for purchase on anything, ended up twisting into the sheets and tugging as Yamamoto’s tongue slid over him, silk-smooth and slick, and fuck, if that wasn’t enough to get to him the fucking Rain’s filthy promise certainly was.

He tried to think up some witty comeback, some sharp retort, some snarky something but all he could manage was a whimper as he threw his arm over his face, tilting his hips up in a silent offering.

Takeshi had learned a few tricks during the time they’d been together. He knew what would the Storm up, made him splutter and reach for weaponry. He knew what calmed him after a bad day, the little things that would make his eyes drift shut and tug soft, purr-like moans from him.

And he knew the buttons to push to turn his fiery lover into a puddle of lust, loose and wanton with Takeshi’s name on his lips. His tongue slid over his hole once, twice, and a third time before teasing its way inside him, lapping at him and soaking his skin.

He couldn’t bite back the soft moan at how tight and perfect his lover felt even just around his tongue. Slowly, carefully, he pressed his finger in next to his tongue, quirking the tip to run lightly over Hayato’s prostate.

Another finger slid into his wet ass, stretching him out as gently as he could. He ignored the Storm’s little whines and curses; it had been far too long since they’d done anything like this and he refused to hurt him. “Wanna be inside you… dammit…” He actually pouted a little, eyes searching the room as if lube would magically have appeared while he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten again.

Hayato understood that one of Takeshi’s favorite pastimes was teasing him. They’d been together for years, after all; the man knew all of his buttons for all of his moods, all of his likes and dislikes, every single trick and tease that drove him crazy, and liked to exploit them. Repeatedly.

Today was not a day he wanted those buttons pressed, but he realized quickly that, per usual, the swordsman clearly didn’t give a damn. He whined as the bigger man’s tongue lapped at him, dragging over his entrance until the bomber was squirming, the hand on the back of Takeshi’s head pulling him closer until his tongue finally slid in, pushed at his insides and made the silveret’s eyes roll back in his head.

His mouth parted on a silent cry, one that was voiced when the slick muscle speared deeper into him, slicked him up so that a finger could wriggle in. When the tip dragged over his prostate the silveret had to bite down hard on his lower lip to stifle a whine, his hips jerking upwards against the stronger man’s hold. It got him nowhere, of course—his cock was aching, drooling and throbbing within the tight circle of Yamamoto’s fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it but lay there and press his fist to his mouth, muffle a sob as a second finger slid in, slicked up by his lover’s saliva to stretch and push against too-long-unused muscles.

For a moment, he didn’t comprehend his lover’s words at all, but then the full impact of what Takeshi said hit him, stole his breath, left him a little dizzy and a little desperate. A need burned in him—he needed Takeshi’s dick buried in him. He needed the look on his lover’s face, the look of complete bliss he got when he fucked him. He needed to hear the man come apart above him, inside him. He needed—

Fuck. He needed his wallet.

"In—oh—fuuuck—" the Storm cut himself off to moan shamelessly as two fingers scissored, crooked,dragged over the length of his prostate, and he swore in three different languages as he tried to bring his focus back, remember why it was so important for him to retain coherence right now.

Lube, right.

"M-my wallet—Take, my wallet, th-there’s—fuck, fuck, there’s l-lube and a condom, oh god, please just—fucking—Gesù Cristo, si prega di fottermi.”

Wallet? Wallet. Takeshi leaned up and kissed him quickly, carefully pulling his fingers out before scrambling off the bed and across the room. Pants pants pants, ah HA!

He tugged the lube and condom out, bounding back over with a bright grin and almost black eyes. The wrapper was ripped open and he moaned softly as the condom slid over his overheated skin. As much as he wanted to make this slow, romantic and loving, he didn’t think he had it in him to wait much longer.

The lube was broken open, and he slicked his fingers back up, pressing them into his lover with an urgency he had been trying to hide before. The rest of the lube went over his own cock before he pressed the head against his lover’s ass.

"Hayato… fuck, Hayato… I love you…" He was trembling, but kept himself from just burying his shaft inside the Storm by sheer force of will. It had been too long, he didn’t want to hurt him… He groaned, low and desperate as tight heat wrapped around him, panting into a pale shoulder as he finally, finally felt his hips brush against the silveret’s ass.

"S-so fucking tight… god… Hayato, please… I need…"

Despite the heat and hunger and need burning through him (could desire take a liquid form because Gokudera was sure that was what was running through his veins now, not blood), Hayato snorted as he watched his lover, strong and dangerous man that he was, bound across the room in search of his wallet. It was like their first time all over again, honestly.

The thought brought a fond smile to his face, and when the swordsman returned to him he sat up and cupped the bigger man’s face, pulled him into a kiss that started out sweet, pure and loving, and then devolved into something hot and wet and dirty as the brunet rolled the condom over himself, moaned low and wanton into his mouth.

"Takesh—i,” the bomber gasped, falling back to the bed and arching, pushing his hips up as thick fingers pushed deep inside him, twisted and thrust. His body accepted them greedily, pulled his lover into him and god, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Takeshi was going to tease him again.

Thankfully, the brunet had mercy. He crooked his fingers once, twice, made the bomber swear as stars spotted his vision, and then pulled out once the silveret was slick. Hayato heard the wet sound of the Rain’s fist on his own cock and he whined, tilted his hips up and murmured a low curse when the bigger man covered his body with his own, pressed him down into the bed and pushed his cockhead into him.

Oh.

It stung, it burned in a way that it hadn’t since that first time and somehow that just made him more frenzied—to hell with going slow, to hell with taking their time, Gokudera needed Takeshi in a way he never had before. He needed that affirmation that the brunet was here, that he still loved him that he wasn’t leaving, wasn’t sending him away again.

He curled himself around his lover, pulled him in deep and choked out a cry as Takeshi sank into him to the hilt, one hand flying down to wrap around the base of his cock again—fuck, fuck, it was… it was too much. He was crying again, goddamnit, muffling a whimper against Takeshi’s shoulder as he gasped, “I love you. I love you—fuck, oh my god, I’ve missed… mmn! M-missed this, missed you, fuck, Takeshi,please—”

Takeshi’s arms wrapped themselves around the smaller frame and lifted him, turning so Hayato was straddling his lap and rocking his hips up, burying himself deeper inside his lover.

He needed this, the closeness, feeling the Storm’s hot breaths and wet tears against his skin, holding him tight against his chest and listening to every punched out noise that came from him as the Rain slammed himself into him over and over.

There was no way this was going to last, no way to add finesse or call this anything more than fucking. And he needed it more than air, a fist tight in silver locks as he marked the bomber’s skin with dark bruises and whispered endearments.

"I love you… more than anything…. Hayato, stay… please… stay with me, I missed you so much… don’t leave…"

His cock pulsed and he reached down, gently tugging the Storm’s fingers from his shaft, twining them together. “Let it go, love… cum for me… please…” He finally captured his lips in a deep, desperate kiss, letting his tongue slide along Hayato’s possessively.

There was a strange, dizzying sense of vertigo as Takeshi lifted him, lifted and turned and moved him andChrist, he’d missed this. He’d missed his easy strength, missed the fact that the swordsman used it, regularly, despite how he complained about it, because Takeshi could read him like a fucking book and he knew how much Hayato loved it.

"H-haa! Ah—ah—T-Take… shi!" Gokudera’s cries were ripped from him, forced up and out as the bigger man fucked him, used his ample strength to pull the Storm down and bury himself deep, pressing himself as far into Gokudera as he could. Green eyes widened as an overwhelming sense of full hit him like a fucking train and he dug his nails into Takeshi’s back, sobbing his pleasure and his relief and his need into the Rain’s neck.

The fist in his hair stung but it was good, it was grounding, and the silveret did nothing to hide his voice as his lover pulled his head back, started sucking marks onto him that made him bite off curses and gasp, “F-fu—uck, yes, I—oh god… oh god—”

He was close, he was close, and then Yamamoto reached down, curled their fingers together and pulled his hand away from the base of his cock and the bomber was coming even as Takeshi begged him for it, his voice a ragged shout against his lover’s mouth.

As the bomber tensed up and tightened perfectly around him, Takeshi’s head rolled back, mouth open in an almost silent shout as he came hard enough to white his vision out. He clung to his bomber, holding him tight against him as waves of pleasure rolled over him.

It could have been seconds, or hours, or even days for all he knew, wrapped around and in his lover, surrounded by his scent and his heaving breaths. But finally, his vision cleared, his muscled untensed and he could drop his head to Hayato’s shoulder, panting harshly.

"M-maa… Hayato…" He couldn’t think, still couldn’t form words that strung together properly. He settled for just clinging, reminding his body, and his heart, that the Storm was really there, that all was well, and no, he hadn’t just dreamed one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

"Love you…"

Gokudera whimpered as he was crushed to Takeshi’s chest, trembling against the man that clung to him as he felt the Rain’s cock twitch, throb inside him before he emptied himself. He groaned weakly as he sagged, boneless, against the bigger man, tucking his face into the crook of his neck and sucking in great gulps of air as he struggled to remember how to think.

Fuck.

Hayato was tingling, his fingertips were numb from the strength of his orgasm, and there was a dumb grin on his face that only widened when he heard the Rain murmur his name like he was in awe. The Storm hummed, pressed a smattering of kisses, languid and lazy and slow, against the skin before him, in a line across his shoulder and up along his neck until his cheek was pressed against his lover’s.

His dumb smile widened some more at the man’s confession and he brought his hands up, sliding one into the short hair at the back of Yamamoto’s head and spreading one wide over the strong expanse of his back as he whispered, “I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

He was sure, completely and utterly and unequivocally sure, that he would never get tired of hearing Takeshi say he loved him. His heart still skipped a beat, after all these years; his breath still caught, his cheeks still burned, his chest still felt tight like it was suddenly too small to contain his heart. He’d never told Takeshi this, of course, but…

Well, why the hell not? “Don’t ever stop telling me,” Hayato whispered, tilting his head so he could brush his lips over his Rain’s as he spoke. “Don’t ever stop telling me you love me, Takeshi.”

He smiled softly, returning the soft kiss. “I won’t. Ever… I’ll tell you every day for the rest of our lives.” That sounded so close to the confession he’d been wanting to make for a while, but hadn’t had the courage…

But it was right there, on the tip of his tongue and practically begging to come out. He knew he wanted the bomber to be his forever. It wasn’t a question. He had always been afraid that Hayato’s natural suspicions would make any hintings at ‘forever’ a reason to run.

But he had run… and neither of them had liked the consequences. And Takeshi knew he couldn’t handle it if the Storm actually died and he never took the chance. He opened his mouth to make some sort of explanation, to rationalize what he meant.

"I want the rest of our lives… Hayato, please marry me?"

"Idiot, even you would get tired of that,” Hayato murmured against Takeshi’s mouth, lazily dragging his fingers up along the swordsman’s back and into his hair, down to his cheeks to stroke his thumbs over his cheekbones.

The rest of their lives, though… That… Gokudera held no illusions about what the future held for him. He would die, he knew it, at the hands of one of their rival families. If he were lucky, he would die protecting Takeshi or Tsuna, giving his life for the only people who had truly accepted him as family, who had made his life worth living again.

No… No, if he was lucky, he’d die alone, so that Takeshi would never have to find his broken body.

But that train of thought was too macabre, especially when he had the love of his life, his literal, actual reason for living here, in front of him, around him and against him and inside him and Gokudera leaned forward to kiss him again but his lover’s words made him freeze. All of the air in the room disappeared—or, at least, he forgot how to breathe it—and his eyes widened as he leaned back, pushing himself to arm’s length as he stared the brunet down.

"What?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe what he’d heard. No one, no one was supposed to want him forever. No one. No one ever had, and really, he’d just been waiting, expecting the other shoe to drop. Takeshi was someone who was supposed to have forever with someone else. Hayato never expected to get that.

Except now… now, here was this perfect, stupid man with his perfect, stupid smile and his kind heart and his everything asking for that with Gokudera. Gokudera, who couldn’t have nice things because he broke them, without fail, and how long was it going to be before Yamamoto saw that, saw that he wasn’t worth the effort, the trouble of all of this?

"You… do you… do you mean that? Do you mean it, Takeshi?" His voice was hoarse, hopeful in a way that he should have hated himself for but he couldn’t, because

"I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it, Hayato. I wouldn’t do that to you." He pulled him back in gently, hands running up and down his back. "I should have done it right, gotten a ring, taken you out or something, but… gods, Hayato, the thought of you being gone, being away from me… of me losing you…

"I can’t do that again. I won’t do that again.” He cupped his cheek, dark eyes boring into green, begging him to understand his words. “You’re everything to me. Absolutely everything. And I know our lives are screwed, and we can’t exactly promise to grow old and die in our sleep together. I’m not expecting that.

"I want… I want you. I want you to be mine in every single way possible, for as long as we have together. I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, Hayato. I just… I want to make it official."

He leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “So please… tell me one way or the other, love, because you’re actually breaking my heart here. Will you marry me?”

He knew. In the back of his mind, he knew that Takeshi would only ask if he was completely certain, that he would never give Gokudera the promise of forever just to snatch it away.

It’s this knowledge that made heat burn in his face, tears prick at his eyes all over again, that made his throat tight and impossible to speak through. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t say yes, not yet, not with as full as his heart and his mind are, so he listened instead, pressing his face to the crook of the bigger man’s shoulder as Takeshi promised him everything, called him everything, and the bomber wasn’t worth that, not to someone like this man, who’s remained so good through everything.

He didn’t deserve it, but he wanted it. There was only one person that he would ever give forever to, and it had always been Takeshi.

"I can’t… I—" he started to make excuses, to try to make his lover see what a bad idea this was, but what could he say that Takeshi didn’t already know? The swordsman knew him, inside and out, could read him like a well-loved book, could calm him or excite him or agitate him with a look, could put up with all of his bullshit and still love him at the end of it.

Hayato sniffled and sat up to rub at his face, leaning into the gentle kiss before looking down at the Rain’s chest as he murmured, “Yeah, I… I want forever, with you. It’s only ever been you, Takeshi—you’re… fuck, just, yes. Yes, I’ll m-marry you.”

“Ti amo, Hayato. Sei il mio tutto." It had taken him longer to learn that phrase than any other; he had practiced for hours to make sure his normal Japanese accent was gone. His face buried in the bomber’s shoulder, hiding the tears in his eyes as he clung to him. He had absolutely everything he wanted in his arms, after almost giving up hope that he could have it at all.

His body shook, more than a little overwhelmed by the thoughts racing through his head and the emotions that made his chest far too tight. He didn’t realize that he was out and out crying, didn’t realize that he was probably leaving bruises where his fingers pressed into Hayato’s skin as he tried to get himself under control.

He shouldn’t be allowed to have this… he’d been so sure he’d fucked everything up beyond repair and now his deepest-kept fantasy was coming true and he just… he couldn’t handle it. It was too much.

"T-Takeshi—" Gokudera’s voice was shocked, wrecked, as he listened to his lover speak to him, speak his mother tongue perfectly, speak words that he ached to hear. “Takeshi… Sei più ditutto per me, Takeshi. Sei la mia… la mia vita, sei la mia ragione di vita.Siete tutti ho bisogno, sei tutto quello che voglio. Voglio… voglio sempre con voi così tanto. Più di ogni altra cosa."

He held his Rain, his lover, his fiance close as Takeshi cried into his shoulder, hid his own tears in the bigger man’s hair and pressed kisses to his temples, to his forehead and into the short, dark strands. He cried because he’d been so lonely for what felt like forever, because he realized, now, that Takeshi was the only person who could fill that void, because he wanted to, he was willing to.

Hayato cried because he didn’t know how else to express the joy that threatened to choke him.

"I love you," he whispered brokenly, kissing down the bridge of Takeshi’s nose until his lips clumsily found his lover’s, caught him in a kiss that was in no way graceful, but made up for it in earnest sincerity. "I love you. I love you, Takeshi.”

He kissed him back, laughing softly and pressing their foreheads together. “I love you too… I love you so much.” He stroked his back, trying to catch his breath. “You’re so amazing… I can’t wait to get home now, so we can start making plans.” His lips moved down to Hayato’s neck, fully intent on tormenting his fiance again.

The cellphone going off loudly from the floor made him pause. That wasn’t a text tone. It was definitely Tsuna’s ringtone.

"Ugh, ignore it…" He started kissing him again as the phone went silent, but groaned when it went off again. And again. "Fuck…"

He carefully laid him back on the bed, snatching the phone up with a grumpy, “What?”

Tsuna’s voice easily filtered through the phone. “Hi to you too. You haven’t gone for food yet, have you?”

[jchnnybender]

promma mia | the cut section

Everything had been planned down to the last detail. And although he had initially been terribly skeptic about going to prom to begin with, Allison had been the one to talk him into it. They’d been sharing an illicit cigarette behind the gym while cutting class when Allison brought up the subject:

“Andrew asked me about prom yesterday.” She said, ever so casually, causing John to start coughing mid-puff on the cigarette she provided (although she, much like John, told Andrew she would kick the habit).

Once John managed to regulate his breathing, he asked: “Well, don’t just throw that out there and leave it alone – what’d you say?”

Allison took the cigarette back, idly rolling it between her forefinger and thumb, not meeting John’s eyes and not speaking for a long moment before saying: “I said yes.”

“You fucking sellout.” John fumed, shaking his head. “We promised we wouldn’t let these uptown kids change us.”

At this juncture, Allison looked up at him, her dark eyes flashing as she sneered, “Yeah, well, I don’t live with my girlfriend in her gilded cage, now, do I?”

“Fuck you. You don’t know my life.” John spat before he could think twice about it.

“And you’re a fucking liar. I know everything about you, stupid. I’ve known you since we were five. Don’t mistake me here. I’m glad you had an opportunity to get out of a shitty situation and you took it. But, really, you’re the sellout here. Especially if you’re gonna get pissy at me for breaking a stupid deal we made years ago.”

“Oh, like freshman year was so long ago. Have the pills deep fried your brain, Allie?”

“Go fuck yourself, John Bender.”

“You first, you fucking Judas.”

Things went more like this until Allison finally broke the tense silence. “Claire is hoping you’ll ask her, you know.” John scoffed around the cigarette, rolling his eyes. “Come on, man,” Allison said, her tone almost unnaturally soft. “It’s the least you could do for her. She fucking took you into her home and let your stupid ass move in. She helped you get your grades up. She’s done so much for you these past seven months. She loves you – which is totally dumb because you’re actually the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, she could do better than me.” John admitted, scuffing the toe of his boot against the remnants of March snow that had turned to gravel-filled slush. “I dunno. I’ll think about it... Okay?” He looked over at his childhood friend, who was giving him a rare, small smile.

Brian had helped him create a budget – the first one he’d ever had in his life – to save up for this prom business. Before this, John’s only knowledge about prom was that girls got stupid excited about promposals and would gossip about where to buy dresses and what was in style at any possible location in school starting around January. He knew because by the time he had the conversation with Allison, there had been multiple times where his locker neighbor and her little sophomore friends would block his locker to gossip about getting an upperclassman to ask them. Usually, he’d scare them into dispersal with a well-timed glare. But Brian’s budget had him working more than usual to save up. He talked his boss at the garage into letting him work longer on the weekends and more during the school week – just for now, he’d promised.

He knew Claire was at least a little bit miffed that he had told her that he was not into going to prom. But he also knew that she knew better than to drag him to things he didn’t wanna go to. She had seen that firsthand when they’d gone to her cousin’s engagement party and John had gotten so bored that he’d almost inadvertently set the curtains of the venue aflame. He’d had to do a lot of apologizing for that little stunt. But he was certain that she didn’t want something similar happening to the historic Drake hotel – that year’s locale for the prom.

He had, however, let himself be brought along to her appointments at a variety of upscale boutiques and department stores – even a David’s Bridal, where John broke into hives whence surrounded by all the wedding dresses and accoutrements – where she modeled dresses for him. He was given some power of veto, but the choice was ultimately hers. And besides, John enjoyed sneaking into the dressing room to fool around just a little too much. He bought himself a ticket the same day she bought hers, offering to at least buy her ticket for her, which she seemed pleased about. He then handed over his ticket to Brian for safekeeping.

It was with Brian and Andrew that he’d even gone suit shopping for the first time in his life. The last time John knew he was ever in a suit was for his father’s wedding to his stepmother, he was eight and the shirt’s collar made his neck itch until his father slapped the back of his hands to make him stop. The back of his hands were still red in the photo from the day mounted on the mantle above the fireplace. But Brian and Andrew made the day a little fun, with Andrew borrowing his dad’s prized Cadillac for the drive into Chicago and Brian bringing a silver flask – that he proudly stated had belonged to his grandfather – filled with scotch from his mother’s liquor cabinet. John was proud of the nerd’s small act of rebellion and promised to buy them all the finest Cuban cigars for post-prom. They’d had a cool time, goofing off and horsing around in the shops, while still giving each other good feedback on different looks. John had chosen what was cheap but still looked nice – the classic black suit with a soft tie that matched the color of Claire’s dress.

From there, it moved into the next step of the plan: Execution. He’d gone ahead and bought Claire a corsage and himself a matching boutonniere, with the help of prom-literate Andrew. He had the corsage delivered while he was working and without a note the morning of prom, all too amused by her reaction – which was to send him a photo, with the accompanying text: You didn’t have to. – Oh, but he did have to. He came home in time to see her off, giving her a kiss and a playful tap of her perfect ass, telling her to have fun with her friends. He knew she and her friends (and their dates) were going to dinner – he had already called ahead and pre-ordered dessert for her – so he had time to get ready before Brian, Andrew, and Allison were due to meet him in front of the hotel. He’d showered, shaved and made sure everything was ready. He had already rented a room at the hotel (thanks to an immaculate fake ID and a credit card he barely ever used) and gone there at check-in time to collect room keys and drop off some things. He’d packed a bag for Claire, too, with some pajamas and comfortable clothes for the morning after.

[sweetflorist]

Blue Zircon: Ace Attorney

Characters: Blue Zircon, Blue Pearl, Blue Diamond, etc

Rating: T

Summary: Blue Zircon has had a tumultuous career history so far, chock full of murderers and private investigations, but nothing so far has compared to this. Blue Diamond herself has requested her presence, and there’s no way Blue Zircon will refuse.

Basically, a rewriting and lengthening of the Trial, as if it were an Ace Attorney game.

Notes: The Trial begins next chapter. I plan to flesh out the chapter some. More focus on Eyeball’s testimony.

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

(Last chapter)////(Next chapter)

Chapter 5: Pre-Investigation, Part-END

The Court Coordinator's Office was an oval room, with a low ceiling, almost like a cavern. Rows and rows of powder blue benches lined all walls but the back wall, auditorium style. A glass protector closed off the inner workings of the Office from the waiting room. Six secretaries' desks sat just behind the glass. The Ambers filed away request forms, checked over IDs, and occasionally called out a Zircon's name, a call for them to fetch their requested files.

No stations but one were open, so Zircon approached that one. The Amber behind the glass hunched her shoulders over a form, tracing the letters with her finger. Every so often, she would write comments or corrections on the hologram with her finger, in red. The Amber glanced up. "Speak," she said, not ceasing her ministrations.

"Of course," said Blue Zircon, only a little miffed. "I am here to pick up detailed case files of a case."

"Fill out this form," said the Amber, still multitasking. She slammed her fist down upon the table. A large amber spot appeared. Amber banged her fist down three times, then slapped her palm down once. The glass wall before Zircon whirred, and Zircon placed one of her holograms against it, downloading the file. Zircon sat down on one of the seats, and began to file the form.

Zircon had filed many such forms before, and completed the form within a minute. She turned it in. The Amber glanced at it, then stopped. Zircon huffed to herself. Apparently the Amber had noticed the case Blue Zircon had requested.

The Amber's head rose to be level with Zircon's. To do this, the Amber had to step onto her stool. Zircon sighed internally. She would not be getting her files quickly. Anytime an Amber did not send the files back immediately, either the form had an error, a problem existed with the form, or the Amber did not believe that the filer had clearance to check out those files. From experience, Zircon mused that the Amber would run a check on her, trying to confirm Zircon could check out those files.

Before Zircon could speak, the Amber shoved the files down the chute, and faced her again. "You'll have your files in six hours."

Zircon scowled. "Doubting my credentials, I see?"

Wrinkles appeared around the Amber's eyes and mouth. "Yep. I don't think such an important case could be given to a Zircon…like you."

Zircon's nostrils flared, but she did not take the bait. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another Amber's station free up. Zircon dashed over, before the station could close. The Amber started, "Yah!"

"Can you take me to your supervisor?" she hurriedly spoke. Zircon would not waste any time waiting for her to be cleared if she could help it. Across the room, the Amber she had been dealing with yelled something about clearances. The Amber before her did not pay any attention to the other Amber, and slammed down her palm, summoning the amber circle. The Amber slapped her palm down once. The circle turned a brilliant golden, and the Amber looked back at Zircon. "Okay. My supervisor will see you now."

Zircon's efforts were a complete disaster. The Supervisor Amber was the worst kind of Gem, she growled to herself as she stalked down the hallways, eventually returning to her office. Zircon wasted no time in spreading out whatever files she had and reading over them.

If Zircon had felt horrible before this, that was nothing compared to now. The more she read, the more Zircon believed this was a suicidal case to give any Zircon. From the files, the case seemed to be very simple. If Zircon had to wrap up her case in a nice package, pretty bow and all, she'd say: "Rose Quartz shattered Pink Diamond, and there were many witnesses."

Zircon flung her hologram back onto her desk, and sunk her teeth into her thumb. She would have to discredit all those witnesses; the prosecution would not be satisfied with one or two, but would likely parade every single witness through the trial, grinding Zircon and her client into guilty dust.

…

Zircon buried her face in one hand, covering up her monocle. Her other hand lay limply on her knee. It was possible only one or two witnesses would be called. She would have to wait until the prosecution had to give her their material. Then she could prepare a defense. There's probably no way to get an innocent ruling. Maybe I could avoid execution…life in jail maybe…

Zircon shook her head, and face-desked. She immediately regretted it as pain lanced up her skull, then dulled into a throb. Blue Diamond would not ever accept such a poor job-she had tasked Blue Zircon with the duty of unpeeling the lies to reveal the truth (if, indeed, there was a different truth than the one espoused in the case files).

Zircon took a moment to return from the brink of despair. She flirted with the idea of throwing a fit in the privacy of her flat, to get that satisfaction, but decided against it. Zircon sighed. She certainly had to try her best.

She would first go to the witness barracks. From the witness list, all seemed to be soldiers of some sort, excepting the three courtier Gems. Zircon decided to aim for the soldier Gems. …It was not a nice thing to do, but Zircon had to sink her fangs into a lead. She would have to somehow dupe one of those soldiers into leaking some information. Prosecutor leads, fuzzy memories, whatever. Zircon would take anything at all.

Zircon stretched every joint in her body, sending a warm haze through her body. Renewed, Zircon tapped her monocle, recalling all holograms. She set off running, for the barracks.

It took only a few quips and direct questions with the Barracks Coordinator to find out which witnesses had arrived recently. Apparently, only a Ruby had arrived. A series of Zircons had visited the Ruby, but no Gem had come in the past hour. As the Barracks Coordinator told her so, Zircon tried to relax her face, not to let the worry show. It troubled Zircon-the prosecution's case must be very tight, if they brought only one witness. Zircon thought. The Coordinator led Zircon to the Ruby's quarters. As the door clicked open, Zircon mused, Perhaps the prosecutor is counting on a reaction from the Diamonds-a knee-jerk judgement. Zircon sighed. She hoped the prosecutor assigned was not of the showboat variety-she hated those. Their theatrics never failed to yank her train of thought off its tracks.

Inside the room a Ruby sat on the floor, motionless. When she turned around, the Ruby had a blank expression; her Gem gleamed from the socket of her eye. The Barracks Coordinator introduced the two, then left the room.

Blue Zircon decided to start off easy, to feel this Gem out. Would she be suspicious? Perhaps the happy-go-lucky kind? Looking at the Eyeball Ruby's gem placement, Zircon felt she would indeed be the watchful kind.

The Eyeball Ruby spoke before Blue Zircon did. "Are you here to ask me about that case?"

Quick and to the point. The Prosecutor must have spoken to her before me. Blue Zircon nodded. "Indeed, I am-"

"And I don't suppose you'd know who the deceased is?" asked the Ruby, leaning forward.

Zircon let her face droop, disbelieving. It was impossible that this Ruby did not already know the answer-

"Don't gimme that look! Just answer!" snapped the Ruby.

Zircon's eyelashes fluttered, but she did not drop her expression. "Rose Quartz, of course…"

"EXACTLY!" shouted the Eyeball Ruby, springing to her feet and jabbing a finger at Zircon. Zircon's arm instinctively crossed over her chest as she leaned back, as if to dodge a blow.

"That yellow Zircon who was in here earlier, do you know what she said?" said the Ruby indignantly, drawing closer to Zircon, head tilted slightly to the right, eyes on her face.

"What-"

The Ruby plowed forward. Zircon doubted that the Ruby actually cared about her own responses. Zircon surmised something had happened during her meeting with that Yellow Zircon (by the stars, it had better not be her) to set the Ruby off like this. Zircon decided to let the Ruby talk, and to agree with her. Maybe she'd just up and offer her information.

"-she said that! She really did! About Pink Diamond! These newfangled idiots, they don't know about Pink! Nobody cares anymore." The Eyeball Ruby paced around in a circle, before planting her feet before Zircon. "You did your research. I'll cooperate! Rose Quartz has to pay for what she did!" The Ruby swept her hand across the space in front of her. To Zircon's annoyance, a sharp pain shot through her Gem as the flow of blood picked up in her body.

Zircon squeezed her Gem, readjusting it in her tie to calm herself. The Ruby had just thrown her a foothold, and she would use it. "I-I suppose you were a soldier of Pink Diamond's?"

The Ruby ceased her rant, and stepped up far too close to Zircon. "Yeah. I was. Not for that long. But you know what's important?"

Zircon withdrew a bit, crinkling her forehead in irritation at the closeness. "What's important?"

"I was there when Rose Quartz shattered Pink Diamond." Ruby's aggression dropped from her voice, becoming quieter and more subdued. She sat on the floor, staring at Zircon's feet. "And now, she'll get the justice she deserves."

"What do you mean, you were there?" Zircon had read the files. She knew the Ruby had been there. However, she wanted the Ruby to offer the information-if Zircon asked directly, the Ruby might smell a rat. If she hadn't already, of course.

The Eyeball crosses her arms. "Whaddya think it means? I was there, by the palanquin. Oh, I know. You wanna know exactly where."

"So…on Earth, Pink Diamond was in her palanquin. I was standing right by those spider legs of her palanquin, and we had gone some ways before Rose Quartz appeared, and shattered her!"

Blue Zircon chewed on Ruby's words for a bit. She gave a little start as a large notification of an incoming video call popped up on her monocle. Annoyed, Blue Zircon dismissed the notification.

Before drawing out a much more detailed story to complement the Ruby's account in the case files, she would have to see how clearly Ruby saw the events. "And so, how clearly did you see Rose Quartz? Did you see her Gem?" she asked.

The Ruby frowned a little. "Now what does that mean? I didn't have to see her face to know it was her!"

Zircon withdrew a little, mentally jotting down one line of defense-Ruby had not seen the attacker's Gem. She would have to make doubly sure, but this was a start. Now, she had to soothe the Ruby. "Of course, of course. How far away were you from the site of the shattering?"

"About 100 feet. But that doesn't matter! I saw the curls and the sword! That sword, it hit Pink Diamond right on the Gem! I heard it hit!" protested Ruby, growing agitated.

As Zircon write down Ruby's words busily on a hologram, the Ruby seemed to realize something. She drew a little closer to Zircon, gazing at the hologram. "Who are you, anyway?"

Zircon stopped her writing immediately. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, what are you doing here? Are you defending Rose Quartz?" asked Eyeball.

Zircon mentally groaned. The Ruby had finally caught on. It didn't matter, though. "I am the Defending Zircon for the Royal Court." Another notification appeared. Zircon dismissed it without thinking.

"Defending?" said Ruby. "You're defending that traitor, Rose Quartz?" the Ruby glared at Zircon, eye wide, pupil shrunk to a point.

Zircon could feel the back of her head throbbing, as the events of the day cascaded through her. "I was assigned to this case," she said, irritation prickling up her sleeves.

"Why?" gasped Ruby. "Why…Why would you do that?"

Zircon gritted her teeth. "Didn't you hear me? I said-"

The Ruby imploded, clutching at her Gem. "Pink Diamond may not be around anymore, but that doesn't give you the right to spit all over her memory! What kind of Gem are you? You're a traitor, just like that Rose Quartz!" she bellowed, spit flying from her lips.

"I am not a-" Zircon shrieked in return, before catching herself. She did not trek all the way down here to waste her time in a shouting match with an Eyeball Ruby! She wanted information.

"Ooooh, I see now. You think I'm lying!" said the Ruby in a mocking tone.

Zircon only had the time to wonder if Ruby had been called a liar in the past before the Ruby began shouting at her again.

After a minute of wondering where the Barracks Coordinator went to, Zircon shouted at the Ruby to shut her up. "Be QUIET for a minute, you unpolished idiot!"

The Ruby shut up, but she did not lose a bit of her combativeness.

"I do not think you are a liar, I just want to know…"-here Zircon groaned-"what did you see? It's important! I need to know the entire truth of this incident! How did Rose Quartz know where Pink Diamond was? Were there accomplices?"

Ruby blew air through her nose. "Accomplices? Rose Quartz shattered Pink Diamond! Who cares about accomplices? They're all shattered and gone now!" She continued mockingly, "Why would you care about the truth anyway? You're defending Rose Quartz!"

"Why do you keep getting hung up on that?" exclaimed Zircon, losing control of her temper. "I'm looking for the truth of the incident, you foggy idiot! I HAVE to know!"

Ruby slapped the top of her mouth with her tongue. "Oh yeah? You don't want to know! Noone does! I told that ridiculous Yellow Zircon how Pink was shattered, and she just wanted me to shut up and say whether Rose Quartz did it or not!"

The Ruby took two steps forward, and jabbed a finger at Blue Zircon. "I am telling you, I saw Rose Quartz shatter Pink Diamond."

Zircon couldn't stop herself from arguing, "But you never saw Rose's Gem! What if another Gem shapeshifted themselves into her?"

The Ruby yelled into the air, said: "I'll prove you wrong, you traitor Gem! You don't know a thing about Rose Quartz! You don't know a thing about Pink Diamond! You're just a Gem who was assigned to this, what would you know?"

"I-" Zircon began, but the Ruby continued: "Well, I know. I saw Pink Diamond get shattered. And I'll do like that Zircon said. I'll tell the truth, and you and her will both get SHATTERED!"

The Ruby shoved Zircon out of her room, and slammed the door. It was an easy task; after the first shove, Zircon darted out of the room. Zircon straightened up, and glared at the Ruby beyond the blue tinted door. The Ruby returned her gaze, arms folded, mouth clamped shut. She looked very upset.

Blue Zircon snorted, then half-wandered out of the compound, tired and disappointed. She had lost her temper far too quickly, and as a result, she would not be able to pry any more information from the witness. Checking the time, Zircon decided to annoy the clerks of the Court Coordinator's Office. The files should be almost ready. As she passed the reception desk, she scolded the Barracks Coordinator for conveniently deserting her post when Ruby started shouting.

Blue Zircon rode a Vein Lift to the Court Coordinator's Office. The Veins connected all of the vital areas of the Diamonds' Courts. One could only ride it if given clearance. The Arteries, on the other hand, could be used by any Gem. As a result, the Zircon enjoyed a calm, quiet ride. Zircon disembarked her ride, and entered the terminal.

As Zircon walked down the hallways to the Court Coordinator's Office, she heard a voice yelling. The voice could not be heard clearly, but as time went by, Zircon realized whomever it was shouted her name, and was running right at her. A Midnight Blue Zircon came hurtling down the hall, skidding to a stop right in front of her.

"Where have you been?! The trial begins in 30 minutes!" screamed the Midnight Blue Zircon.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" shouted Blue Zircon.

"I did! I tried to call you, but you wouldn't pick up!" yelled back the Midnight Blue Zircon. With a flash of dismay, Blue Zircon recalled several annoying voice call notifications during her little chat with the Eyeball Ruby. Zircon swallowed down fluid collecting around her mouth, and did not say anything.

The Midnight Blue Zircon seized her hand, and dragged her to the backroom of Court Coordinator's Office. The Backroom was spacious, with the walls covered in tags, each denoting the place of several electronic files. An Amber rocked back and forth of a computer screen, impatiently waiting for several files to finish unencrypting.

When she saw Zircon arrive, dragging relentlessly by Midnight Blue, she seized Zircon's tie and slammed her monocle into the computer screen. "Watch the Gem!" Zircon yelled.

The Amber held Zircon in position, as the screen flashed green. Zircon winced as lines and lines of transcripts, forensic reports, pictures of the crime scene, witness interviews, etc, download themselves into her monocle. The instant the file transfer finished, the Amber shoved Blue Zircon into a very small dumbwaiter-like chute.

"This will take you just outside of Rose's room. Good luck!" gasped the Amber, breathlessly.

"Wait-" Zircon began. The chute shot down, disorienting Zircon to the point of queasiness.

Several minutes after Rose Quartz's arrival, Zircon reached the room where she would be contained. The Room was directly connected to the courtroom where Rose would be tried. Zircon entered the room, not taking a moment to compose herself. Her eyes were glued to her hologram screens. With the Trial looming just in front of her, Zircon felt her anxiety return like a sickening black wave.

She worried aloud, "This is ridiculous! 4,000 years of loyal service to the court, and this is what I get? Oh, I'm the unluckiest Zircon in the galaxy!"

Zircon tore her eyes off her many holograms and swept her gaze around for a large figure with voluminous pink curls. Instead she saw a small thing, colored brown and pink, darting towards her.

Zircon gasped, unprepared. "Wait, are you...Rose Quartz?" She couldn't believe it. Looking closely, Zircon could just see Rose's Gem through the pink shirt she wore. Zircon analyzed Rose's new form disapprovingly. The form was heavily carbon based, with many trace materials.

"Yeah," said Rose, downhearted.

"…Really?" she couldn't help but say.

"It's a long story," said Rose.

Zircon's eyelids fluttered closed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she burst out, "Then I don't have time for it!" She groaned, digging her fingers into her palms. "We only have this brief moment to prepare your case!"

"Case?" asked Rose.

Zircon scowled at the Gem. Didn't the Crystal Gems have courtrooms wherever they came them? Didn't Pink Diamond provide adequate schooling for her prized Rose Quartz Gems? Or maybe terror had taken the polish off Rose's Gem. Either way, Rose just looked clueless. Zircon turned her attention back to her screens, groaning again. "Who am I kidding? This is pointless! We've all heard the rumors about the demise of Pink Diamond…" she continued her rant, ending with "That ridiculous disguise is only going to make you look more guilty!" She could at least discover why Rose had taken on that carbon form.

Instead, Rose said, "That's fine, because I am!"

Zircon's mind bucked at the words Rose had just said. This was bad. Not only did Rose seem to be guilty, as per the case files, but now she straight up admitted to her guilt. There was no way Blue Zircon could get this case to stretch on long enough for her to turn up a report to Blue Diamond's liking.

She gasped, "Well, don't say that! Especially when you're out there!"

Rose yelled back, "Out where?! What's going to happen?!"

Zircon gave herself only a moment to internally scream, then she almost screamed aloud, "What did you think was going to happen, Rose Quartz?! As soon as that door opens, you're going on trial!"

As if on cue, the doors opened. Zircon swallowed again, wiped the sweat collecting rapidly on her forehead, and entered the courtroom along with Rose Quartz, hoping Rose would not lead them both to their shatterings.

[movietvtechgeeks]

Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/michael-adamthwaite-gets-thoughtful-war-planet-apes-supernatural/

Michael Adamthwaite Gets Thoughtful About ‘War for the Planet of the Apes’ and 'Supernatural'

One of the new films that had a presence at Comic Con was "War for the Planet of the Apes," which opened two weeks ago and had a panel showing off the artistic and visual effects of the film. As a long time fan of the entire "Planet of the Apes" series of films (I even read the book by Pierre Boule and loved it), I was excited about the last in the sequel trilogy. The film focuses on Caesar and the war between his quest for revenge and his innate empathy, as well as on the actual fight between humans and apes. It also introduces the de-evolved young human girl Nova, a familiar name from the original series of films and the first group of sequels. The movie tackles deeper themes than might be expected, which makes it even more intriguing to me. So having an opportunity to chat with Michael Adamthwaite, who played Caesar’s lieutenant, Luca, was a real treat. [caption id="attachment_48557" align="aligncenter" width="450"] 20th Century Fox[/caption] Lynn: I was a huge fan as a kid of the original films and even read the book. Michael: Oh, so you’ve got a lot of the lore down, okay! Lynn: What I remember anyway, which makes this new film exciting to me. One of the things that has really evolved as the films have evolved over a long period of time is the portrayal of the apes. There’s just so much expression and emotion imbued in them now, which is amazing. Michael: Yeah, it is a huge thing to behold. The emotionality, the quality of that emotion comes directly from the performance. We’re just so grateful that we have such artistry and such technical wizardry. I can’t even call it anything other than that, to be able to put all this together to convey the raw natural emotion. And a lot of people have been asking me online hey, are we ever gonna see a cut of the movie where there’s no rendering, and it’s just you guys in suits? Some people have been calling for that, but I’m telling you, they’re going to see the same thing. The emotion comes through directly from Steve and Karin and Terry and myself, and it’s a huge privilege to watch it transform that way. Lynn: That’s so fascinating, and actually I do think that would be cool to see. I have no doubt that you’re right, but the whole process is just fascinating. Michael: Oh it’s next level every day. Lynn: So tell me about how you went about the process of really bringing Luca to life. [caption id="attachment_48558" align="aligncenter" width="696"] 20th Century Fox[/caption] Michael: Well, thankfully I have Terry Notary to rely on, probably the best motion choreographer working today. He’s got everything to be porud of. He’s created a tremendous world with characters that – for me, even in the last several years, working on Warcraft and BSG, creating these characters, they’ve come from a place that Terry just pulls out of the actors. You show up in a state and Terry takes you apart and puts you back together, and before you know it, there’s a beautiful sense of self. And you don’t think about anything, you drop in, and you’re not thinking, you’re present. And that’s the gift that animals have, they’re totally biology, so it’s next level for sure. Lynn: Were you also familiar with Planet of the Apes and had you seen any of the original or sequel films? Michael: I am a huge fan in all of its forms. I’m on the younger end of the spectrum, so some of the older properties haven’t been onscreen for a long time, but I really love the world created by this one question: what would it be like if it was a planet of the apes? That to me, it can beautifully be explored. So yes, I’m a huge fan. I was so excited just to get to audition let alone be considered for the role, let alone find myself playing Luca. So this is all a dream come true. Lynn: I think as a psychologist I’m sort of fascinated too by why we find this both fascinating and terrifying. Michael: So true. Lynn: There’s something in us as humans that always makes us question our place among the rest of the animals, and especially those that share like 99% of our DNA. There’s an ambivalence there that makes this extra interesting and maybe has that core of anxiety there to pull from too. Michael: I think that regardless of what species you are, you can achieve some kind of sentience and knowledge, some awareness outside of your biology, then you’re gonna question how long it’s gonna take for something to try to take you out. That’s nature/nurture, right? Lynn: Yeah. Michael: We survive, no matter the language, parents communicate to their children, we must survive. So yeah, it’s a pretty close to home idea for sure. Lynn: What makes this particular film special and appealing, because it seems to be pretty popular? Is it the fight scenes, the story, the way the apes are portrayed? What’s your take on that? Michael: My take is quite frankly that the power of story trumps any visual because we’ve seen films where the money has been tipped towards one area, like the visuals or the fight scenes or the explosions, and there’s no story! And it doesn’t work. Call them bombs or flops or whatever, but people don’t respond. But if you can take a couple of guys and a wonderful lady and put them in pajamas and get this kind of response, I think people should wake up and stop spending their money foolishly just on effects. We’ve seen so much, we’ve been completely desensitized by all the visual exposure, we don’t care anymore. Where’s my narrative? Who do I root for, who do I love, who do I hate? Give me story and give me performance, don’t just blow stuff up and tell me I’m supposed to give a crap! Lynn: Oh, I couldn’t agree more, it’s all about the story. That makes me want to see this movie like yesterday. There has to be something to anchor your emotions around. Michael: Life is often visual first, and if you can find yourself in an audience full of people and you can connect with what you see onscreen even for a moment, you have transcended, and it has transported you, and that is a gift. That’s what you pay your ticket price for. Otherwise, you feel empty afterwards because there was no connection. So you and me are on the same page. Lynn: Agreed. Do you have any behind the scenes anecdotes? I’ve read some things about the comedic aspects of Steve Zahn’s portrayal of “bad ape.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds interesting… Michael (laughing): I have to say, there were times when Steve just naturally just dropped into his love of play and his love of theater and craft. He really is just someone who almost sometimes forgets where he is for a moment and just has fun, but man oh man, that scene in front of the fireplace, he was Marathon Zahn for sure. I think he got upwards of like 37 takes. Lynn: OMG! Michael: God bless him, he’d be like with legs throbbing, but saying I’m okay I’m okay, just this absolute tour de force of leg strength. He’s a very physical comedian and a talented actor; I love him. Lynn: That’s impressive.  What was your favorite scene to film? Michael: Oh that’s such a hard question to answer! Every scene has such a relevant contribution to the overall arc; it’s hard to pick out one moment. But as a performer I really looked for those times when the frame kinda gets a little blurry, and you sort of forget the world and who you are, what you are, where you are, and you’re just alive in a body in a moment and that moment for me was giving Nova the flower. My wife thankfully was present that day and was able to watch filming, and it was beautiful. At times, I was just a being on a mountain with a girl showing her compassion in what was a really difficult and dangerous and horrific reality. That was pretty big for me as an actor. Lynn: And again, that basic human emotion that comes through, those are the moments we all relate to, that are memorable. Michael: Yeah it definitely was for me. Lynn: Switching gears for a minute, I write a lot about the television show Supernatural, I’ve written five books about the show, so can I ask you a Supernatural question? Michael: Ohhhh you’re a super fan, right on! Lynn: Probably an understatement. Interestingly, you’ve been on the show, and Ty Olsson and Aleks Paunovic have also been on Supernatural and are in this film. Michael: Yeah, we’re fortunate local boys.  We know the rules; if you want to work, get on Supernatural! They are not messing around, and lucky us for having them. Lynn: So you had a scene with Jensen Ackles and with Felicia Day too. And apparently, it became a meme?? Michael: (laughing) It was a wonderful little scene, and of course the rule is there’s no such thing as small characters, only small actors, and this was at the time, it felt like a nice little role, but to see it blow up as a meme and to be part of all this, and asking Jensen Ackles a series of questions was really fun, and Felicia was really great.  I think at one point she was miffed that her video game wasn’t loading on her phone which was really sweet and we all laughed about that. Lynn: (laughing) Michael: She’s a true fan and just an absolute gamer goddess, so it was great to hang out with her, she’s such a huge part of fan culture. We’re just all geeks on the inside trying to have fun. Lynn: Absolutely. Somebody needs to send me that meme! Michael: I think it’s on my twitter, it’s just me and Jensen and Felicia and of course what’s added isn’t dialogue from the show by any means, it’s just this interesting three-way meme by implication. Lynn: I’m so gonna stalk your twitter! And I had no idea you were on another of my favorite shows too, Dirk Gently! Michael: I was very fortunate to be on Season 1 of Dirk Gently, playing a really fun character by the name of Zed, who of course they defended the machine, they sought the kitten, they created havoc, and that was the role. Lynn: I didn’t know who you were then, but that was so awesome! Michael: You have to be invisible for things to work, so I take pride in that. And stepping out with Apes right now, I couldn’t be prouder about that. Lynn: Last question, what was the most challenging part of filming this movie? I can imagine some of it was quite challenging. Michael: Well, of course, I have to acknowledge the logistics of filming and some of the conditions we were in – the snow, the sleet, the rain – all of that was incredibly difficult on the crew and cast. But that wasn’t the hardest part for me. For me it was just letting go and dropping down and doing away with everything that was afraid of things when they happened or commenting on things when they happened or thinking I didn’t want to be vulnerable at this moment, it was really just doing away with myself. Not me as a human but doing away with fear and cautiousness. You have to become an animal, and ape or alligator it doesn’t matter, there are certain behavioral patterns you have to work towards, so you have it give it everything you have.  Finding Luca was a big thing because, in a way, I found myself, and that was the biggest challenge. Lynn: There’s always that need to put your own identity aside to play another character, but is this sort of an extra layer of challenge, putting aside your humanity as well? Michael: Yeah, even devaluing labels and not getting my mind locked in by the titles and names of things and what we call things and how things get fed into a hierarchy, but instead how does this make me feel? Then feel it or trust it or defend it. Regardless of where the emotion goes, it all comes from the same place. There’s this center, your power cell we all operate from, and for me the challenge was doing away with everything that got in the way of that. Lynn: Is a take away message of the film that there are a lot of similarities between the humans and the apes and at the core more is the same than different? Michael: I think it’s a central theme but not the be all end all. The idea that we as conscious creatures, having a higher consciousness in a fictitious world, we definitely blend the line for sure and start to see both the similarities and the differences but really, if it was about any one dynamic, it’s about the self. There’s a very old saying, the lion who conquers a battlefield is not nearly so accomplished as the lion who conquers himself. It’s really about that war within Caesar, that war for humanity and for peace and that sense of mercy. It’s a very complex film; I’m really excited for you to see it. Lynn: Did Andy Serkis do a really kickass job portraying Caesar? Michael: Oh man, kickass is like the greatest understatement ever. If Andy doesn’t get an Oscar, there’s going to be a huge army of pissed off people, me included. At that, we were out of time – our conversation had been so enjoyable I didn’t realize how much time had passed! Lynn: Thank you so much, I can’t wait to see this film! [caption id="attachment_48559" align="aligncenter" width="432"] Kristine Cofsky[/caption] Michael: Thanks so much and hey, look out for the next big thing! Guess what I’m off to see?? If you’ve already seen Battle for the Planet of the Apes, what did you think? And if you haven’t, catch it in theaters now! Oh and somebody please send me that meme!

Movie TV Tech Geeks News