#I never posted this here :00 ! I made it last year for… you know

[habken]

how can I be the greatest hero without you ?

fly high king 🙏😔

[foreverdolly]

this is a self pitying post and i’ll probably delete it later- but when i’m sad i tend to write it out. i’ve used this blog like a diary of sorts for the last two and a half years. i’ve developed a relationship with a lot of you on here and i appreciate all the love i’ve received so far on my last post. my friends that i have in real life, no matter how long i’ve known them, don’t know too much about my upbringing or my parents. i hate the idea of trauma dumping- it’s uncomfortable for other people: so don’t read this if you don’t want to. i wouldn’t blame you.

my dad died from cirrhosis due to alcoholism. he died miserable and alone. he had no friends. his family was sick of him. i tried to call him as often as i could but sometimes he could be mean if he was drunk. i knew not to call him after 11:00 in the afternoon because he would start to drink. he lived in his youngest brother’s basement and almost never came upstairs because he was embarrassed. i haven’t seen him in three years because he lives fourteen hours from me, but i tried my hardest to call him every week and keep him involved in my life. he never saw any of my homes, never met any of my friends, and never even saw me drive a car (i’ve been licensed since i was eighteen). i cried to him almost every week, begging him to get sober.

he never recovered from my parent’s divorce, and for that i feel so sorry. he called my mother his soulmate and always spoke in past tense- talking about when me and my brother were little. he would tear up when talking about the first time he ever saw me in the hospital after my mother gave birth, and he was vocal about the fact that i was his favorite. we shared a lot of the the same interests and always had fun when talking.

when my mom made a suicide attempt two years ago he was there for me almost everyday, calling me despite the demons he was battling with himself.

the last time i spoke to him was thursday- a week from the day he died. he told me that he almost called a treatment facility but he got tired and took a nap instead. his doctors appointment was today at one and he was going to ask to be admitted and then go to a rehab facility. i told him i’d send him money while he was in there- he hasn’t been able to hold a job since i was still in high school.

my dad was a chef. a damn good cook- classically trained in french cooking. he had the loudest laugh i’ve ever heard, so much so that it used to make me cry when i was a baby. we used to wear matching costumes and he’d sign me out from school on halloween and call me out the day after. he took me to my first concert, but he couldn’t afford both the gas and the tickets (so i paid for the gas with my pocket change at the age of thirteen). he wore adidas strictly- shell toe was his favorite.

when i was little my dad was on night duty while my mom was away: tucking us in, reading us books. he refused to read to me and walked out the door but not before saying “bed bugs and stuff”. i thought it was so funny. it became our saying. every night we spent with each other we said “bed bugs and stuff”. so that was my last send off to him. i hope he’s finally resting well and isn’t depressed, ashamed or lonely anymore where he is.

he died in his sleep. they found a solo cup filled with vodka next to his bed and i can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was going to get help today. he was yellow due to jaundice. what a cruel world.

[wynsummers]

i've been thinking about the whole "friction in his jeans" thing a lot lately, and while it is certainly one of the more iconic instances of the lyric in the CD booklet being different from the actual song, it is far from the only one. on top of that, there are quite a few lyrics that play with double meanings that only become clear when they're written out.

so, i present a collection of every lyric in the fob CD booklets that differ from the final version, punctuation and double meanings that aren't noticeable unless the song is written out, and any other interesting details i find in the process, or a really long post of me cornplating about fob:

disclaimer that if the difference is small enough/doesn't change the meaning of the line i won't include it because that would take me years (for example, the book says "light that smoke for giving up on me" and patrick says "yeah, one for giving up on me" but literally who cares that changes nothing. everything i include here is relevant, i think)

follow-up disclaimer that there are a bunch of fucking typos in every single one of these books because these boys never proofread anything but unless i think it's significant in some way i probably will skip it

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE:

tell that mick:

"I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle - I confess / now ash yourself out on the insides, when I said I loved you I swear I lied"

grand theft autumn:

"someday i'll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you... but for the meantime i'll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with my clothes on at 4:00 in the afternoon"

saturday:

"pete and i said goodbye to astoria with promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence"

(most of these are just silly but this one fucking hurts)

sending postcards:

"fake it like you matter - cause that's the biggest secret you have to keep"

chicago is so two years ago:

"that means that I believed every single lie you said (and learned from the best)"

"cause every pain of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains i went through to avoid you / and every little pat on the shoulder for attention fails to mention i still hate you" (pain of glass instead of pane of glass - i think this is supposed to be a parallel. that or pete just misspelled pane)

patron saint:

"I'm holding out and I'm holding on to every letter and every grudge"

*flashes forward 20 years to hmlag*

anyway

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE:

our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn't get sued:

"we're good friends only when you're on your knees"

sugar:

the icon, the legend

"don't mind me, i'm watching you two from the closet wishing to be the friction in his jeans" 🎉🏳️‍🌈

dark alley:

"joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of 'just friends'"

"I'm hopelessly hopeful that you're just hopeless enough"

champagne for my real friends, real pain for my shrimp friends:

"you steer away in a rearview mirror, make my head swim"

i slept with someone in fob:

"someone old, no one new / always borrowed, always you"

THIS ONE!! THIS FUCKING ONE [CAR CRASH] [SIRENS]

ahem. anyway

sixteen candles:

"i confess, i'm just messed up / dropping 'i'm sorrys' like you're still around"

XO:

"to hands"

(that's it. no "between legs, and whatever it takes" just hands. just fuckin. to hands)

"to hotel stares/stairs" (wordplay!! to clarify it literally says "stares/stairs" in the book)

"choose awe or sympathy"

also in the last verse it says 'to the "love"' with the quotes which is just kinda funny

INFINITY ON HIGH:

this ain't a scene:

"crashing not like hips or hearts"

i'm like a lawyer:

"i only keep myself this sick in the head cause i know how the words get you (off)"

"collect the bad habits that you couldn't bare to keep" (idk this one might just be a typo)

hum hallelujah:

similarly, this might also be a typo, but "versus" is spelled "verses"

(after) life:

ok. ok. hear me out. this is the cornplatiest i have ever been. but on genius it says "death's in a double bed"

and on the lyric book it says "deaths in a double bed"

that changes everything!!! (not really, i know) it's not death as a concept or figure or whatever it's deaths. as in multiple people dying. aaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaughhhhhhhhhhh

moving on

carpal tunnel:

"we take the sip from life's lush lips"

the line "we might've started singing just a little soon" isn't listed, it's just the goodbye line twice

"but i'm just tired yawns for fawns"

you're crashing:

"the cause, the kid, the charm, and the curse"

ginasfs:

"lips pressed this close to mine"

"but the prince of this failing empire knows" (hhhnnnggggggghhh)

"i've already given up on myself once but the third time is the charm" that's not how numbers work pete <3

"just kind of figured on not figuring myself out"

FOLIE A DEUX:

folie a deux doesn't have a lyric book. just portraits of the boys with empty white pages that have their names written on them. my poor beautiful masterpiece

BELIEVERS NEVER DIE VOL. 1:

fnowae:

not a lyric but for some reason the whole fuckin song is in quotes

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL:

the phoenix:

another punctuation thing but instead of "hope to die" it's "hope-to-dies"

"you're wearing our vintage misery"

alone together:

"my heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in" instead of "broken" (i love double meanings!! i love wordplay!! i love pete wentz!!)

where did the party go:

"i will appear to you if you make yourself shake fast enough"

the mighty fall:

the lyric book straight up doesn't have big sean's part 💔

rat a tat:

at the end there's this "talk less / mean more / let's be electric / like we were before" that i have literally never heard so i'm assuming it's a neat little cut lyric

save rock and roll:

"i will save the songs / the songs we're singing"

AMERICAN BEAUTY / AMERICAN PSYCHO:

irresistible:

"coming in announced" this one. this one's just a typo. come on boys it's been 12 years at this point read the books more than once

"i just dragged my nails on the tile / i just follow your scent" ?? idk

"this will not be a battle"

ab/ap:

for some fucking reason it just says "she's an american beauty" three times at the start of the song 😭

"and as we're drifting off to sleep" isn't in there, it just says "and all those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep"

the kids aren't alright:

indulge me once more, reader. i am cornplating again

instead of "former heroes who quit too late and just wanna fill up their trophy case again" it's "wanted to" do you understand why that makes me insane

also they have it as "will put your curse in reverse" instead of "we" which could be a typo but could also be a neat little change

uma thurman:

"you cut me deep like uma thurman"

jet pack blues:

"i'm the kind that can turn june to september / the last one that you'll ever remember"

"between these two white highway signs"

immortals:

"i try to picture you without me but i can't"

M A N I A:

hold me tight or don't:

the line "i'm pretty sure that this isn't how our story ends" isn't included

wilson:

"i know it's just a number but to me you're the 8th wonder"

sunshine riptide:

they didn't include any of burna boy's lines 😒

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST:

smfs doesn't have any lyric changes that i noticed, just the usual typos.

update: future emma here, upon further contemplation I have decided to add the line "I'd never go, I just want to be invited" since the first verse definitely says "I'll" (thank you sugarweregoinin and foliejpg for inspiring this revelation)

and there we have it! if you're insane patient enough to have made it until the end, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed! if there are any i missed/any in CDs that i don't have please let me know i find these so fascinating (if you couldn't tell). i just love getting glimpses into their writing process and seeing how the songs we know and love evolve before they get to us. i might also do a post about how spotify/genius gets a bunch of their lyrics wrong because it pisses me off but this is all for now, good day/night!

[malice-ov-mercy]

Waking Up in Vegas

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Content Warnings: 18+!, implied sexual encounter, mentions of alcohol and gambling, friends to lovers

A/N: inspiration taken from this post from @madomens

Word Count: 2k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @reader13000 @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @an-insane-day @lyschko666 @calisto-thoughts @agravemisstake @emzandthevoid @shroomfairy24

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Lorna Shore!

Noah Masterlist

“I feel like three years of my life has been wasted. What if I never find the one, Noah?” You pouted, sitting in the edge of the plush hotel room bed.

Noah sat beside you, pulling you close to him and tucking you under his arm. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. It hurt him to see you so heartbroken and not yourself.

The breakup blindsided you both. Your—now ex— partner abruptly ended things a week before your four year anniversary. They offered no explanation and then just disappeared off the face of the earth.

“You haven’t wasted anything, (Y/N).” He hooked his thumb under your chin and turned your head so you were looking at him. “It’s their loss, not yours.”

Water welled in your eyes. Noah frowned. Gently, he cupped your face and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“Hey, no crying. You’re too pretty to be crying over some loser.”

The sound of your small chuckle made his heart flutter. He smiled softly. You offered a weak smile of your own. How your ex so easily bared to drop you baffled him. Clouds surrounded you, but to Noah, you were still the living embodiment of warm sunshine.

“Thank you, boba.”

Noah scrunched his face, making you laugh louder. He always acted like he hated the nickname, but you knew he adored it, simply because it came from you.

He kissed your forehead then stood, holding his hand out for you.

“C’mon. Vegas awaits. We’re gonna make you forget all about the last three years.”

Come 2:00 AM, you and Noah were lost to the chaos of Las Vegas. At this point, you were sure your blood was mostly alcohol. You won big at a few casinos, but ultimately ended your night breaking even. The world spun more than you remembered. Standing up right was hard and walking wasn’t much easier.

Noah stumbled along close behind you, his hand safely on your lower back. You spotted a bench and your feet started screaming at you. You made a beeline for it, leaving Noah behind and to chase after you.

A heavy groan loud enough to wake the dead left your body as you collapsed onto the bench. Sharp stinging pain shot through your feet. Your hotel wasn’t far, but if you walked one more second, you would crumble.

“Oh my god,” you said out of breath. “You may have to carry me back to the hotel, Noah. I can’t walk any further.”

He scoffed and joined you. “If I wasn’t so fucked up, I would. I’d absolutely drop you the second I tried.”

You giggled. “I guess we’re just stuck here then.”

Noah hummed in response. He draped an arm across the back of the bench. You leaned into his side and closed your eyes. The harsh brightness and flashing of signs started to hurt your head. Noah dropped his arm and softly ran his fingers over the white fabric of your suit jacket. His cologne swirled around in your nose.

Briefly, you dozed off in the warming comfort of Noah’s embrace. For as long as you’ve known him, Noah provided a safety you never experienced. He always went out of his way to make you feel cared for and loved. Every special occasion or hard time, he was there. The world truly blessed you with the greatest and best friend anyone could ever ask for.

You opened your eyes, squinting and blinking to readjust to the Vegas cityscape. The hustle and bustle of the night invaded your fuzzy thoughts. A plethora of signs littered the space above sidewalks and building walls. Clubs, bars, sex shops, restaurants, and so much more.

Out of the corner of your eye, a bright pink heart neon sign caught your attention. You squinted at it. Not far from it was a small structure that poorly resembled a chapel. A sinking filling filled your chest. Three years of memories rushed back to the forefront of your brain. Thoughts of what could have been consumed you.

“You okay?” Noah’s gentle voice cut through the heartbreak in your head.

You looked up at him. His brows were furrowed. The obnoxious heart shaped sign reflected in his eyes back at you.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Of course, anything.”

You tore your gaze away, suddenly finding yourself unable to look at him. Your eyes wandered back to the chapel.

“If neither of us are married or in a committed relationship by the time we’re like forty, can we just marry each other?”

Noah shifted and drew your attention. He blinked at you, clear confusion on his face.

“I don’t wanna end up alone, Noah.” Your voice cracked.

“(Y/N)…” Noah cupped your face. “You won’t be alone. You’ve got me. Always.”

You smiled half heartedly. “I appreciate that, but I’m serious.” You placed your hands over his. “Promise me.”

Noah studied you. His hesitation scared you. It was a big request and one you probably should not have made while severely intoxicated, but you definitely wouldn’t have the courage to ask him sober.

“You’re seriously asking me to marry you?” Noah spoke, his tone sounding incredulous.

You nodded.

He mimicked a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

Nausea bubbled in your gut, either from alcohol or anxiety as you waited for an answer.

A few more seconds of awkward silence passed before Noah’s lips curved into a tiny smirk. He chuckled lightly and extended a pinky finger. You hooked yours around his.

“I hope for your sake you’re happily with someone by then. I’d make a terrible husband.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder. “Are you kidding me?! You came with me on an anniversary celebration because my ex dumped me last minute and it was too late to refund. You are absolutely husband material.”

Maybe it was all the colorful lights, but you swore you saw Noah blush. With a nervous cough, he stood up. His eyes really were perfect little boba in the night light.

“We should probably head back to our hotel.” He held out his hand. “It’s so late and I’m exhausted.”

You grabbed his hand and hoisted yourself up. The sudden shift made your head spin. A wave of intense dizziness washed over and you nearly knocked Noah down. He was quick to catch you.

“Can we go to one more place first?”

“(Y/N)…”

“Please, boba?”

With a defeated sigh, Noah interlocked your fingers.

“Fine. But you're paying for the ride back.”

Dragging a reluctant Noah behind you, you start towards the chapel. Curiosity was killing you. You wanted to see what it looked like inside and desperately wanted a picture of the neon sign.

Sun beamed through the floor to ceiling window. It was millions of miles away, but it settled right over your eyes. You grumbled, feeling the throb of a hangover poke at your brain. You reached up to shield your eyes from the sun’s dreaded light, but your hand smacked something warm and soft. It made a displeased noise, then you felt your body being pulled closer.

You realized you were caught in someone’s embrace. Panic prompted your eyes to fly open. Noah’s sleeping face greeted you and you relaxed. It wasn’t entirely unusual to be cuddled together, but you were pressed flush against his bare chest, not an inch of space between your bodies. You could feel the steady, strong rhythm of his heart.

“It’s not polite to stare, (Y/N),” Noah rasped, voice heavy and thick with sleep.

He opened one of his eyes and peeked at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You kind of smack me in the face.” Noah chuckled, pulling you even closer in his embrace.

His chin rested on top of your head. He drew gentle circles on your bare back, the tender caress softly tugging at the lingering sleepiness. You threw one of your legs over his and nuzzled into his chest, sighing contently and enjoying the warmth of his soft skin. The realization you were both naked dawned on you suddenly.

“Noah?”

“Hm?”

“What did we do last night?” You asked.

You pulled away enough to look at him, noticing a small, barely visible mark on his jaw. Noah met your stare. His eyes then went to your neck and chest.

“Well,” he spoke, bringing his left hand to your neck and trailing a finger down to your chest, “judging by the marks and the lack of clothing, I’d say we fucked.”

A blush spread over your face at the bluntness of his words. He hooked his index finger under your chin. Dark, mischievous eyes stared back at you.

Noah ran his thumbs over your bottom lip. “Would you like a refresher?”

Embarrassed and flustered, you tried to wriggle from him. He laughed lightly but didn’t let you stray too far. You furrowed your brows, trying to display fake annoyance. Your expression softened as he intertwined your fingers. Noah gazed lovingly at you. Warmth filled your heart and spread through you. You smiled softly at him. He mirrored the gesture.

Your eyes fell to your hands. There were rings on your fingers that weren’t there last night— Noah’s a simple black band and yours a simple silver band that had started to turn your finger green. You racked your brain trying to remember where you could have possibly gotten jewelry, but drew a blank. Noah followed your gaze, equally perplexed.

Details of the night were hazy and far away. There was lots of drinking, that much you knew. The pounding in your head reminds you of that. You remembered your luck running fry at tables and slot machines. After that, the picture in your head was scrambled and jumbled. Some pieces had pink in them, another had a paper with yours and Noah’s signatures—but your name looked different. Your last name wasn’t there. It was—

“OH MY GOD!”

You sat up and put significant distance between you and Noah, startling him with the sudden shift and volume of your shout. You glanced back at Noah, sheer panic on your face and concerned confusion on his.

“WE GOT FUCKING MARRIED.”

The picture finally came together in your head. The pink of the neon sign, the marriage certificate, Noah convincing you to get cheap rings as “place holders” until he could ”give you a proper ring”, pouncing on each other the moment the hotel room door closed.

Your head spun from the memories.

“Forty came quicker than I expected.” Noah joked.

You gave him an exasperated sigh and cradled your head in your hands. Sheets ruffled behind you and the spot beside you dipped. Noah wrapped an arm around you and nestled you into his side.

“Okay, not the time for jokes. Sorry.” He pecked the top of your head. “If you want, we can look into getting an annulment.”

“If I want?” You looked at Noah. “What about you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t hate the idea of being your husband.”

His statement rendered you speechless. You looked at the ring on your finger. Honestly, there was no reason you could think of that against being married to him. Every future you ever envisioned always featured Noah in some way, either by your side at the altar or across from you.

You looked back at the soft boba eyes watching you. You cupped Noah’s jaw and pulled him into a tender kiss, not caring an ounce about his or your morning breath. Butterflies took flight in your stomach and made a home in your heart. You smiled into the kiss, and so did Noah, followed by sets of giddy giggles.

“I don’t know about you, tea, but I’m starving. How ‘bout some food?”

Noah gazed at you. You looked at him confused.

“‘Tea’?”

“Yeah,” he said matter of factly, like the randomness of the word was obvious. “What’s boba without its tea?”

You outwardly cringed. “You are not calling me ‘tea’.”

“Puddin’?”

“Better.”

“Spouse?

“Perfect.”

[peterman-spideyparker]

You're My Zebra (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) (Horses and Zebras 4/4)

Author’s Note: I've finally come up with an ending for this mini series that I like, so it's time to wrap it up! Really, thank you to everyone who's been interested and invested in this series, I never thought it'd be anything more than just a one-off post. Enjoy! :)

Summary: You didn't sleep a wink after Matt left, and with some time before your shift, you decided to get some answers from him, needing to put the pain of the past behind you.

Warnings: Angst (broken heart, nerves related to canon-typical violence, two stubborn idiots in love who never stopped being in love with one another for seven years), swearing, fluff, happy ending

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page

Word Count: 1,748

Your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s. This is truly just one of the stupidest things—no, it is absolutely the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. With those injuries from last night, the sheer amount of blood you absorbed up with his gauze, he’s probably not even in! Hell, he might not even be alive. He might not have even made it back to his place; with that amount of blood loss, he could easily be dead on some street or rooftop. But he has to be alive, right? He can’t just show up out of the blue after seven years just to die twelve hours later. At least if you go, someone in that office has to tell him you came, right? Just as you’re thinking about doubling back, your hand is already opening the door to Nelson, Murdock, and Page. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” a blonde woman says, looking up from her desk. 

“Is Matt Murdock in?” you ask. 

You notice how her eyes just barely look over to where you assume his office is. “Can I have your—Hey, wait!”

Walking into his office, you see him sitting at his desk, his fingers running over papers as Foggy stands to his left. 

“Get out, Foggy,” you tell him. “I need to talk with Matt.”

Foggy looks between you and Matt skeptically before standing straight as if he’s about to walk out.

“Foggy and I are discussing case strategy right now,” Matt says curtly. “This is confidential. You can’t be here.”

“Then take a break from it, we need to talk.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. We need to wrap this up, and then we have client meetings back to back all day.”

“You seriously expect me to believe that? It’s 10:00 a.m. What about lunch?”

“Lunch meeting.”

“Then we’ll talk after.”

“I’m afraid we’re staying late. And if you’re here right now, it’s my guess you’re working the late shift tonight.”

“Then I’ll make an appointment with you, I don’t care, we need to talk, Matt.”

“I think we both said everything we needed to last night.”

The sentence and the look on his face is like an ice-cold dagger in your heart.

“You’re a real piece of shit,” you breathe, your face scrunching as you hold back your tears. “Go to hell.”

As you start to walk out of the office, you hear Foggy call out: “Karen, stop them!”

The blonde does as he asks, maneuvering in front of you, mirroring every step you take to halt your exit.

“(Y/N),” Foggy breathes as he comes out to meet you, taking Karen’s place. “What’s going on?”

“A mistake,” you sigh. “And now, after seven years, I guess it’s finally over.”

“Matt said something about last night. Did something happen?”

You straighten and adjust your hand on the step of your bag. “He came to me for some help. I gave him a hand, and he left when I wasn’t looking.” You notice the slightest raise in Foggy’s eyebrows, and you can tell he knows exactly what’s going on and just what kind of help Matt came to you for last night.

“Turn around,” he says softly.

“Foggy—,” you begin to protest.

“Nope, for once you’re both gonna listen to me,” he insists with a gentle hand on your back, leading you back to Matt’s office.

“Foggy—,” Matt starts once you both enter his space.

“Nope,” Foggy says, holding up his hand. “You two are going to talk about whatever all this is right now. I can handle the client meeting with Karen.”

“But—.”

“No. All of this has been going on between you two for nearly a decade. You’re my friends, and as much as neither of you want to admit it, you still mean a damn lot to one another.”

Walking out of the office, Foggy closes the door behind him, the loud sound of a door clicking shut cutting through the deafening silence of pure tension as you place your bag on one of the client chairs in front of his desk. 

“What the hell, Matt?” you hiss, your voice quivering as tears immediately sting at your eyes. 

“(Y/N)—,” he starts, smoothing out his tie against his button down. 

“No!”

“Keep your voice down.”

Your lip quivers as you stand and stare at him. “I cleaned up so much blood last night, you were incredibly injured . . . You could barely move—It hurt you to breathe, and you just left! I-I . . . I was so scared! I was sick to my stomach! I was half-convinced that if I came here today, you wouldn’t be in because you’d be dead on some street all alone!”

“You had a phone call. I wanted to give you your privacy.” How the hell is he keeping his voice so flat? You feel like you could scream, and he sounds like he’s telling you the weather for the day.

“Oh my God, Matt!” you cry, running your fingers through your hair. “That—I—! Cover your ears and wait! You couldn’t ha—!” Your blood runs cold when a thought runs across the forefront of your mind. “Did you leave . . . Because I left that night at Columbia?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Take off your glasses and look at me!” you shout, rage, hurt, and betrayal coursing through your veins. “I am done. Tell me the truth.”

Pausing for a moment, he does as you ask. You don’t know how it’s possible, but he looks even worse than he did last night. 

“If this is some sort of cruel punishment for something I was genuinely mistaken about, you’ve got a sick sense of justice. I thought I was going to die from how worried I was about you, and you—!”

“I couldn’t stomach the thought of listening to you talk to your boyfriend,” he cuts you off. “I heard him call you ‘baby’, and I—.”

“You could hear that from where you were on the sofa?” you clarify, totally confused. 

“Yeah, I could. My hearing is one of the ways I do . . . what brought me to you last night.” He clears his throat. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“Is that the only reason you left?”

He moistens his lips, his eyebrows pulling together as he shakes his head. “You were gonna tell me no. You were gonna say you didn’t want to see me ever again. That was gonna be the nail in my coffin, and it was gonna be the last time I ever saw you. It made sense to leave while you were on the phone to save us both another heartbreak, but then I heard how you were crying after I left. I wanted to turn around and just hold onto you, but, I think that would’ve only made it worse.”

“I wasn’t gonna tell you no, Matt,” you breathe. 

He tilts his face back up, showing you fresh tear marks along his face. “You weren’t?”

“No, Matt. I was going to say I needed some time. Everything we unpacked last night . . . I was a lot. Between what happened in Columbia, you stumbling into my place, what you were doing last night—I needed time to sit with it. And then you left, and I . . .” You swallow hard before you take a few steps toward him. “I felt so ashamed, because everything about our relationship has been my fault. But all I know with every ounce of myself that I want to fix it, and I swear if you ever leave me again, there is no place where you can go where I won’t find you to give you a piece of my mind and a swift smack to your head.”

His eyebrows shoot up like those of a sad puppy as you make your way around the desk. “(Y/N) . . .”

“I mean it,” you tack on. 

“You have a boyfriend.”

“I care about him, yes. But if you’re asking me to compare my affections, who I’ve imagined a future with? That’s you, Matt. You’re my future, and you always have been.”

A tear rolls down his cheek. “I-It won’t be easy.”

“I know.” You slide your hands into his. “Matt, do you remember that night when we were studying for that exam? When I told you that doctors are told to look for horses, not zebras?”

“Mm,” he hums, leaning his forehead against yours. “I remember that night well.”

“You’re my zebra, Matt. I don’t want easy. I want you. The good, the bad, the complicated, all the messy history—everything. I want to be there for you, and I will sit and talk it all through, I will stay up late to be with you when you get back from being out at night. I want to lay it out so we can start over. Start fresh.”

He squeezes your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over the back of your hands. “I’m not gonna go anywhere,” he vows. “I swear.”

“Neither am I,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his.

“Can I kiss you?” It’s not so much a question, but an urgent plea filled with need, as if it isn’t fulfilled here and now, he might wither away. You don’t give him the pleasure of a verbal response before you pull him in for a kiss. His hands hold onto your waist for dear life as you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss is firm and passionate and flooded with too many emotions to properly process. But even in the thick of it, it feels like you’re back in law school the night you got drinks with Matt—light and utterly in love. You’re absolutely breathless when Matt pulls back and the kiss breaks, but he helps steady your racing heart with how he continues to hold onto you. 

“Meet me back here when you get off of work,” he breathes. “We can go back to my place, and I’ll explain everything you want to know. Have a few drinks.”

“Last time we had a few drinks, I ended up in your bed,” you say softly, brushing your nose against his. “And you shouldn’t be mixing the pain killers I gave you with alcohol.”

“Whoops,” he says with a lopsided grin. “Sounds like you’re just the right person to stick around and keep me in line, though.”

You brush your nose against his and smile softly. “Damn right I am. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

Fic Taglist: @linasotaaaaaaaa @scarletsloveletter@maladaptivedaydreamingbum

[tyxoxo]

Feel It - teaser.

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader teaser, find full fic here.

genre: smut, pornstar!jaehyun au, 00’ dream inserts

words: loading…

warnings: pure filth, oral, cum play, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, humiliation, dacryphilia, shibari, unprotected sex

a/n: san francisco armory, das the setting lolol (thanks kink.com ��)

—

“okay, we’ll just have you sign this.” the producer with the name tag K said as he handed you a clipboard with a pen; the two of you sitting across each other in a large auditorium.

you were fidgeting the more you sat there in the middle of the “playroom”, excitement rising with every glance of the various s&m props placed on antique plaques. whether it was the torture rack, assorted floggers, or cattle prods, you couldn’t wait to try it all.

never in your years of living did you expect to be at an armory-turned-BDSM studio, preparing to do your first adult scene. yet here you were, only wearing a pair or your underwear, completely bare everywhere else.

the use of a National Guard armory was oddly fitting for the company—20th century Moorish Revival architecture, albeit refurbished, still gave a sense of “grittiness” and “rustic charm.”

“i know that you already submitted your online waiver but we just like to have an additional one for in-person. physical signatures are always preferred.” K snapped you out of your thoughts for a second, though your mind couldn’t help but drift back into the gutter, thinking yet again to your upcoming scene.

the single sheet of paper reiterated everything you read through just a week prior:

“Mission Statement and Company Values”

typical header to start a waiver…littered with the expectations to provide a “consensual and safe space for all participants.”

your eyes scanned further down, taking a few minutes to read their “Right to Distribute Media:”

“By signing here, you agree to having any and all media in your presence posted to our website Kink.com, with potential distribution to other pornographic partnerships…”

you provided your signature for the two spots provided, officially sealing the deal…

as soon as you handed the clipboard back to K, he spoke into his bluetooth earpiece, presumably notifying the other producers of your newly sealed fate.

“you guys are good to head this way.” he said before placing the clipboard on the floor next to his water bottle.

“in a moment you’ll be able to meet your partner, and go over the do’s and don'ts, that kind of stuff.” he said, followed by a closed-mouth smile.

you smiled back, trying to hide the anxiety creeping under your skin. there was no telling what kind of man would appear through the doors, meters away from where you sat.

you kept your eyes trained on the double-doors, tapping your leg up and down to pass what seemed like hours.

but then again, this was a four story building…maybe it was just taking them a while to get to where you were.

just as you looked down at your twiddling thumbs, the heavy sound of the double-doors echoed throughout the room. the man that appeared was unlike anyone you’ve ever seen.

he was gorgeous…

and he smiled as soon as he laid eyes on you. his dimples being the first feature that caught your attention.

he strutted towards you, confidence exuding with every step. he only sported boxer briefs, definitely nowhere near as self-conscious as you, now that you saw his toned body.

you tried not to make it obvious that you were eyeing his subtle six-pack. but it was hard. his body was perfect; not too overbearing, not too ordinary. still, his biceps and his quads showcased the work he put in to maintain his physique.

the last thing you could observe before he stopped in front of you, was his happy trail, leading all the way to the package he had confined in his briefs. he completely ignored K, standing right in front of his field of view.

your eyes slowly made their way to his face, still smiling so bright, with ivory teeth to match.

“hello, my name is jaehyun. nice to meet you.”

his voice was velvety deep, baritone.

another surprise to you.

jaehyun held out his right hand, but you noted the single platinum band adorned on his left ring finger…to your disappointment. your thoughts were outlandish, there’s no way you’d have a chance with him even if he wasn’t taken.

you returned the handshake, voice visibly shaken as you gave him your name.

“i’ll go ahead and let you guys have the floor. i’ll be back in 10.” K said with a clear of his throat. he then gave up his seat for jaehyun, making his leave towards the double-doors.

jaehyun looked back at the medieval-styled chair before sitting down, chiseled thighs growing in size once he found a comfortable position.

“so tell me a bit about yourself…”

—

//tagging: @pradajaehyun

[squigglypatties]

Lost.

Pairs: Jill Valentine X Fem!Reader

Summary: You lost your phone the same day you broke up with Jill. You found it 8 years later after you saw it on an ebay post.

Characs made up: Bea, Laurel and Naomi

Characs mentioned: Chris and Claire Redfield, Leon Kennedy and Rebecca Chambers

Disclaimer! I do not own any of the characters mentioned below.

Author notes: I found the inspo on tiktok 💀💀 this will probs be short idk. Credits to : @/shualvrbf on tiktok!!!

*Friend's groupchat*

Y/N - "OMG GUYS GUESS WHAT."

Naomi - "WHAT?"

Bea - "what is it?"

Laurel - "What mistake did you do again"

Y/N - "You're so mean Laurel. I didn't do anything."

Laurel - "So what the hell are we supposed to guess?"

Y/N - "Right. So you guys know about the phone I lost like, years ago, right?"

Bea - "Did you find it?"

Y/N - "YESS!!"

Naomi - "How did you even find it? Didn't you lose that phone 8 years ago???"

Laurel - "Maybe she stole it cuz she thought it was her phone. 😂"

Y/N - "I found it on ebay. 🥲"

Bea - "Maybe it was just a lookalike."

Laurel - "lol I agree"

Y/N - "I haven't checked it yet, hold on. 😭"

Laurel - " 'kay whatever."

Naomi - "Didn't you lose that the same day you broke up with.. uhmm"

Bea - "Looks like someone's having deja vu 😂"

Y/N - "It was already 8 years ago 🙄 besides, I already moved on 😝"

Laurel - "Lol, who are you fooling?"

Bea - "Herself!! Obviously 😂"

You got curious as you were checking it out, you tried opening the phone, but it was already dead. Fortunately, you still had your old charger, and it worked!

After you finally opened the phone, you suddenly received alot of notifs coming from a user, "My Valentine ♡"

You remembered that you forgot to explain why you guys had broken up. And for that, you tried backreading through the conversation until it reached her last message to you.

Aug 18 2016, 01:43AM

Y/N - "I'm really sorry Jill, I can't handle this anymore."

Y/N - "You never have time for me anymore, and I'm getting sick of it."

Y/N - "I still love you but I just can't do this anymore!"

Y/N - "Don't bother trying to knock on my door. I already moved into another apartment."

Y/N - "Goodbye, Jill."

Aug 19 2016, 00:46AM

Jill - "Love, I'm so sorry if I replied late."

Jill - "Baby, please. Let's talk this out"

Jill - "M'love please let me explain."

(Missed call from Jill)

(Missed call from Jill)

(Missed call from Jill)

Jill - "Please Y/N.. let's talk.."

Jill - "I won't give up trying to talk to you, Just please Y/N."

Jill - "I can't live without you.."

Dec 19 2016, 10:43AM

Jill - "Hi love, I'm sorry if I couldn't reach out to you these past few months."

Jill - "I've been busy with my work."

Jill - "Y/N please. Come back to me. It's so lonely here without you.."

Jan 01 2017, 01:43AM

Jill - "Hi love! Happiest new year for you and your family."

Jill - "I couldn't really enjoy my new year because you're not here."

Jill - "I miss you so bad. I'm still longing for your presence and attention."

Jill - "Please. Come back to me my love."

And from that day on, Jill would always chat and chat you daily. Talking about her day, what happened at work, what she did during the day and night.

Feb 14 2017, 10:43AM

Jill - "Heyyy. Happy valentines day m'love!"

Jill - "I can still remember how you always teased me on valentine's day because of my last name."

Jill - "I would always laugh at your sill puns and all.."

Jill - "To be honest, I can't enjoy any holidays without you."

Jill - "You've always made me the happiest and I.."

Jill - "I really miss you, Y/N.."

Jill - "Life's so hard without you.."

Sept 16 2017, 14:03AM

Jill - "Hi love! Just wanna talk about my day."

Jill - "Today, I actually enjoyed alot!"

Jill - "Chris and Claire noticed me being gloomy these past few months so they took me out to a funfair!"

Jill - "It was so funny hearing Chris scream so loud 😂"

Jill - "Still, even though they took me out, I couldn't really enjoy it as much because you weren't there.."

Jill - "I miss you so much M'love. I'm still waiting for you."

[Insert birthday], 09:26AM

Jill - "Hi, love. It's your birthday today!"

Jill - "I bought a cake for you lol."

Jill - "I know, it's stupid because you weren't here.."

Jill - "I gave some to Chris, Claire, Leon and Rebecca!"

Jill - "I can't finish that whole cake all by myself"

Jill - "They have a vm for you!!"

[VM : (Chris, Claire, Leon and Rebecca: HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!) Leon: Jill misses you so much by the way. Leon: Ow! What was that for Chris?-] VM ENDED

Jill - "Sorry for that."

Jill - "It's true though.. I still miss you alot.."

Jill - "come back to me.. please..?"

You're almost done after reading all of Jill's messages. You've reached the bottom and as you read her messages, something doesn't seem right..

Aug 19 2022, 04:31AM

Jill - "Hi love! I'm getting ready for a new mission."

Jill - "Honestly, I'm getting kinda nervous about this mission."

Jill - "Claire told me that we we're going on an island called "Alcatraz"

Jill - "I have to go. I love and miss you so much!"

Jill - "If anything ever happens, just know that I loved you, even at my very last breath."

You we're getting nervous as to why that was her last message. You we're curious about what happened so you searched up on google

You found out there was a virus that spread around the island and there we're only 4 survivors.

Chris

Leon

Claire

And Rebecca.

As tears we're dropping off your eyes, you desperately try to find her name. Jill's name. You tried to reread the survivors list names alot of times.

What happened apparently was that, she got caught up in the satchel bag full of explosives that was supposed to kill the monster. She sadly didn't cut the Satchel's holder on time.

[husbandhoshi]

jeonghan + 2am + cute🥰

[2:00]

“i don’t think this is a good idea.”

the night that blankets hwaseong is buttery and lush, moon hanging over the sleeping city like a ripe apple.

"have i ever had good ones?" jeonghan answers plainly, and he waits for your nose to scrunch up in annoyance before he smiles.

it's a habit, much like the way he matches your stride, the way it feels right to walk beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

it reminds you of when you were children, walking with pinkies linked through the wildflowers, except now he's at least two heads taller than you and a lot funnier.

"what if someone sees us together?”

jeonghan chuckles, deep and intimate, and takes his baseball cap off to plop it on top of your head, pushing the brim down to your eyes.

he has a big ass head now too, you think, but you keep that one to yourself.

"better?"

"you know that's not what i mean."

“who would say anything? we know everyone here.”

and that shuts you up because he’s right.

you wore the city like your second skin. borne into you, the laugh of the ahjumma who owned the jjampong place, the glitter of july-ripened strawberries, the titters of old folks feeding the gulls.

you never thought jeonghan would leave all that behind until the tuesday six whole years ago he said was going to seoul to become an idol.

“did you miss me?” he asks.

like crazy. like i’d never missed anything more, you want to say. instead you swallow down the lump of crazy chewed up words and think of something more normal to say.

it’s not like you hadn’t talked since he left.

have you eaten? he would text you. other times, like my last instagram post or you’re a fake fan.

only once: how big is the moon in hwaseong? are you looking at it too?

there was a time you couldn’t imagine hwaseong without your best friend. for a moment, it was like a ghost town, haunted by the boy who picked up bugs on the ground and always let you have the last bungeoppang, even if it was filled with red bean (his favorite).

but it seems he’s outgrown his shadow. he stands tall and expensive, and even the hat on your head seems like it costs more than your car.

and yet, you hear his old man groan claw its way out of his chest, and you feel as though nothing at all has changed.

“ya, are you actually ignoring me? did i fly a thousand something miles out here to get ignored?”

it’s another habit, what jeonghan does next, but you can swear the stars drop out of the sky—he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, made strong and lean by time.

it jerks you into a moment seven summers ago, when you’re you and jeonghan is just the gangly boy next door throwing rocks at your window, and you forget for a moment how woefully plain you feel next to your best friend turned celebrity.

“sorry,” you laugh, gathering your bearings. “of course i missed you. i even got weverse or whatever.”

he rolls his eyes in a way so dramatic, you would almost delete the app off your phone if it wasn’t for that smile, a traitor to the cool front he always has.

“i missed you too.” he says it easily, simply, as if all of this was just foreplay.

“it must be a lot quieter here than in seoul, huh? and the food is—”

“no, i missed you.”

he stops in his tracks, elvish features almost offensively attractive in the fluorescent streetlight, to look at you.

to look at all of you, not just the you who bandaged his knee when he was learning to skateboard for the first time, but the you who answers his anxious late-night calls, the you who greeted him at the airport with that dizzyingly warm smile, the you who stands before him now.

and it’s you who he takes into his arms, hesitantly, then all at once, as if he’s dreamed about this for ages (he has).

he takes off the too big hat, holds the face he knows so well in his hands, and kisses you under the hwaseong moon, finally not so far away.

(“you think the paparazzi got their pictures?” he jokes between kisses, knowing full well your audience consists of a raccoon and maybe the weird guy who owns the liquor store across the street.

“we can give ‘em another one.”

he’s never one to argue with a good idea.)

[wings-of-ink]

First Devlog?

Hello everyone...boy, there are a lot of you already, still trying to digest that...

So, I gather that I should do these logs on occasion. I do not know how often, perhaps just when I have a few things to say. I will try not to ramble too much, but my fingies like to talk.

Anyway, I am working on chapter 3 right now. There’s some fun moments so far in it that I hope you’ll like, and we’ll get to meet Zahn, Duri'naan, and then Rundis. I’m trying not to rush because there are some exciting scenes that I’m eager to get to. I’ve outlined them to tide myself over until I get that far. There’s some quiet moments you’ll get to have as well, and right now I feel like that’s what I’m struggling with. Those areas of my story are like bridges to the next, more exciting, parts and sometimes I feel like they fall a little flat. But, I’m trying to keep in mind this is my first draft. I’ll go through it another time or two to perk things up. Those moments are still important for letting the MC get to know each RO.

My mind has been in a million directions lately too, and I’ve had a lot of ‘duh’ moments. I’ve done so much world building since I started this last year (around August/September I think), that I have pockets of important details that I kinda just forgot! So, I plan to re-read all the notes I’ve made and try to also put them into one place. I have some in my phone, in a notebook, and in no less than three folders on my laptop. It’s a wonder I have survived this many years…

What you can expect for coming updates…

-A couple fixes, of course – thank you to those who found some of those pesky buggy bois for me.

-A nicer front page, instead of being slapped with my ramblings, I’d like to actually have a nice start page. I’ll figure it out eventually, lol.

-I’ll be adding a name bank to the MC’s Nameday scene that will also show you what each name means, so if that is important to you, it’ll save you the internet search. If it tickles your fancy, the name selection will correspond in some way to the marks (names meaning "night" or "storm," etc.) so you can theme your MC a bit.

-Extra coding in case you decide to shorten MC’s given name to just “Ravi.” I did not once consider that anyone would do this, and my first play-tester – my own spouse – did….He told me about it since it made some dialog with Oswin make zero sense, and then I published the story without fixing it because I completely forgot about it.

-Different contrast color for dark mode links. I feel like I have drastically improved this with a new gold color. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t use the gold before. I love it as an accent, I use it all over! The blue never felt 100% right, but my brain shut down after thinking about it too long. Here’s a sample and a (M) Zahn tease:

When can you expect an update?

I’d like to make my next update during the Amare Games Festival, ideally containing both chapters 3 and 4 since they go pretty tightly together. This will also insure that you meet the rest of the posse. It’s a tall order for both chapters to be submitted on time, and I don’t want to rush them either, but I’m going to try really really hard, lol. I will focus first on polishing chapter 3, so that no matter what, I can at least get it out in time.

Here’s a link to the post about it:

And this is the submission time frame: open from March 31st 2024 at 11:00 PM to May 1st 2024 at 12:00 AM

As a side message, should you want to read on…

I also wanted to give you all a big, like really big, heartfelt thank you. I have received so many kind messages and comments that I just can’t believe it. I am so happy (and honestly, genuinely shocked) that you’re enjoying my IF, and I’m motivated to work hard so you also enjoy each new chapter of your journey. There’s so many secrets I want to share with you about the world, and I am struggling to be patient myself, lol.

I am not usually a very open or social person, and I was scared for a long time to share anything I wrote. I reached a point in my personal life in the last few years where I just needed to embrace what I loved to do and share it with a community that shares in that love. I encourage you to do the same whether there is a story in your heart, music on your lips, or a paintbrush in your hands. Life is NOT about your 8-5. We may not be able to survive without it, but whatever moment you can, do what you actually love. Put away the those things that don’t matter, the things that stress you - including people, and make time for who you are.

Thank you all and take care!

~Lunan

[roobylavender]

this is a general point but one thing i find to be really frustrating from non-talia fans is the automatic condescension and assumption of unintelligence as if talia fans are idiots who believe morrison is the only writer who has ever been racist to her and like we don't dwell on the issues in her writing across history wholesale because we tend to know it like the back of our hand. obv morrison is the most prevalent writer in talia discourse bc their work has been the most damning for her. there's no erasing what they did to her character bc dc will never erase damian's existence nor will they ever be willing to change his origins to account for her original characterization bc he's the more popular character by miles

but that's not to say that these discussions about other racist stereotypes and misogyny attributed to her portrayals from other writers aren't prevalent within talia fan circles. the above post is only one example of the assumptions made about her fans (although it's a common accusation) but i honestly find it quite laughable bc any talia fan who is dedicated to understanding her history and maintaining her character integrity is well aware that dixon's work on her in the 90s and early 00s is nothing short of terrible. it is her most prominent dragon lady portrayal prior to morrison's and you would be hard pressed to find a talia fan who actually enjoys any of those portrayals or believes they did her character any service. the thing op and so many others seem to ignore is that writers from tower of babel and onward more or less forgot about these arcs or talia's part in them bc her impact was so inconsequential. there's not even a hint of the talia who was power hungry to be her father's heir or sexually assaulted by bane in the portrayals written by waid and early 00s superman comics (although you can obv argue about whether ignorance of her trauma from the bane arc was a good thing). so ofc we don't complain about it as much bc it didn't have any long lasting effects on her character (unless you want to count her portrayal in the dark knight rises, but i think even that was egregious enough for the most wormbrained fans to recognize it was a disservice to her)

and i am always incredibly fascinated by the number of people who like to dress up the o'neil era the way op did bc it's an immediate tell for who's actually read her comics and who hasn't. there's certainly things to be said about the al ghuls and the fu manchu stereotypes o'neil and adams drew from to create the daddy-daughter duo, but no one who criticizes their holistic portrayals here ever seems to actually understand the nature of their crimes in this era or that this is perhaps the most tame ra's has ever been before writers in the 80s and 90s took his ecofascism to new heights. the ra's of the 70s is highly suspicious and wealthy and entitled, but most of his crimes are so vague and far flung they can't even be categorized as anything concrete. half the time he's fighting for control over the league more than he is actually making strides in ecofascism, which is what writers like mike w. barr more specifically dedicated themselves to portraying. it's also notable that one of the last stories o'neil wrote for the al ghuls in this era featured ra's and bruce cooperating to save the entire planet from a deadly chemical. ra's was an ecofascist at origins but very few people seem to understand or care that he was built with standards for himself and didn't believe in mass murdering humanity despite all of its crimes against the earth. that's a nuance that writers seem to have lost over the years and obv the every day batman fan isn't going to care about them lol

even beyond the ra's portrayal though it's interesting how talia gets tied so closely into his alleged "crimes" from this era bc unless her father is under threat or imprisoned talia doesn't play much of an active role in his criminal plotting at all. if anything that's a criticism talia fans have of o'neil's work bc while she's portrayed to be incredibly intelligent and possessive of a unique concept of loyalty, her role during this era doesn't really go beyond the bounds of henchwoman or on some occasions bystander. but the highlight of these portrayals is that in the rare moments that she is an active player, it's always to do the right thing and protect an innocent. talia is very staunchly anti murder and only inclined towards the act when people she cares about are threatened (like in her very first portrayal where she shot darrk to protect bruce, and even then, you can tell that murder wasn't her intent, and the man may have survived had he not fallen onto the train tracks; there is also her almost-murder of a man in daughter of the demon when she believes he's killed ra's, but once bruce tells her ra's is actually alive she relents. you can criticize her for that still if you're inclined to but the notable thing about it is that talia is not driven to murder as a prerogative unless extremes present themselves). o'neil explicitly designates her as a pacifist who is only chained to ra's out of a slavish devotion which other writers obv build on in later decades to help her ultimately evolve out of the role. but all too often non-talia fans take the bond girl ambience and surface matter of these stories to designate her as an entitled, heartless war criminal bc that's already the way they have of her from modern work, projected back onto work from the past. there's no room to see the nuances in her writing in earlier comics bc her future has already damned her

this is personally why i think paying attention to writers when building a concept of character history is so impt. swaths of issues get jumbled together to act as one conglomerate on a character but there's a plethora of nuances and shifts in tone and portrayal to notice when the work of different writers is distinguished from each other and analyzed. and that holds esp true for non-white characters whose trajectory can shift so suddenly bc of the biases of a writer

[iamhereinthebg]

thoughts on the new chapter?

*salt about tbhk incoming* :')))

I already announced it on instagram but my interest in tbhk have dropped drastically since some time and I was gonna give the manga the benefit of the doubt because chap 104 was okay Ig?

Chapter 105 just showed everything I have been not liking about the writing in tbhk in one chapter youhou

let's go on the positive first!

I adore class 1-A I would die for them

The pages in black and white were cool, the art is perfect as always. Maybe seeing an Akane and Hanako team up would be fire af but with Teru here I doubt it so this is a tiny hope I will put in hell with everything else for now.

I love you Kou and Mistuba

Yokoo is rocking this outfit too. I like the fact that the clock being destroyed just stops everything and everyone's time (like a certain character but who has a limit *COUGHS* probably for this reason Ig)

them

Idk if I am strong enough to go on a full explanation on why my interest dropped since some chapters, this didn't start on this one, this one was just the last straw. I will just show the most obvious choices that I don't like ( my opinion btw this is just the feeling I have while reading, take this with a BIG grain of salt)

I've been reading tbhk for 4 years and I am tired of waiting for stuff the author litteraly won't do anything about and just stay in their comfort zone

No repercussions on the mcs for some choices they made, no repercussions on wounds/stuff that happened which should have need time to heal for the characters or for them to grow, giving us always the same team up so no room for real character/relationship development beside the obvious (and with how slow Hanako and Nene have been going honestly making the same characters always interact doesn't help at all apparently L O L), BIG difference of pacing for characters growth, making the story take always the same route with the same characters being kidnapped and the same ones doing the savings, putting characters in an arc they have no reason to be part of so just making them stand in the background like a caricature of themselves, making characters 'mysterious' or forgetting their character development just to use them as some sort of deus ex machina, and the worst of all:

Making Nene just a reason for Hanako to react and nothing else. No character development for her, no reason for her to be in some scenes, this is just sad to watch at this point. Aoi had this problem at the beginning of the manga for Akane mostly for comedic reason and they had growth, seeing they are putting Nene in this position after more than 100 chapters and her being the mc is just awful.

I honestly just want more diversity in the choices they are making in their writing, and the last chapter proves me that either it will come in a long time or it never will.

At least the art is pretty, and the worst part is that I KNOW AidaIro knows how use setup, they know how to write really good stuff and good characters, complex stories, and it's GOOD. So seeing this in the recent chapters just makes me even more tired x'))

Once again, my opinion, but the way Nene and Aoi are treated in the manga makes me wanna explode. AidaIro are capable of writing good female characters (thank you Mei and Sumire for being perfect from start to end), Aoi and Nene had wonderful time too, so idk why all of this is happening rn tbh. It's just sad.

Maybe the brainrot will come back, I still love the characters, but I really need to take a break from the fandom anyways (not gonna expand on this but oh boy how annoying a part of the fandom is, a lot of people are the sweetest but a part makes me wanna explode, I've been more than 3 years here and I think that the most I can take at this point)

ANYWAYS :DDD idk what I will do with this account for now ^^ I will probably still rb some stuff or post old tbhk doodles I never finished :00 Idk what I wanna draw now probably ocs stuff so I won't post them here I think ^^ I hope everyone is alright yay

[czenzo]

Missed Call

[ao3] Skullyle Internet Friends Series: [1 – Pretty Boy] [2 – Missed Call]

summary:

[00:13] Missed call from Skull Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning. “Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. “No, nothing like that," she said. "He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.” “And this is bothering you because…?” Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.” One missed call sends Lucy spiralling. She begins to question her feelings towards her strange, snarky online friend.

words: 3,440 rating: T

notes: to all the lovely people in the comments for Pretty Boy who said they’d read more, this is for you!

[00:13] Missed call from Skull

Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning.

“Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. Lucy jumped so intensely she almost pulled a muscle; it was easy to forget how quiet her coworker could be when she wanted to.

“No, nothing like that,” she replied after her heart rate steadied. “He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.”

“And this is bothering you because…?”

Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.”

“Ever? You’ve known each other a while though, right?”

“About half a year.”

“And you talk every day?”

“Near enough.”

Now it was Holly’s turn to frown. “And you’ve… never called? Never heard each other’s voices?”

“No.”

“Not even sent a silly voice note here and there?”

Lucy shrugged. “I’m not a voice note kind of person.”

A long, slow nod was her only response, which was more unnerving than Lucy would’ve liked to admit. “Is it weird? That we only ever text?”

Holly made a vague gesture. “If I were in your shoes, I’d think it a little odd, but—”

“Can I get some service, or is this establishment closed for gossip hour?”

Lucy’s head whipped around to find a customer waiting at the till, red irritation blooming high on his cheeks. She bit back an instinctive snarky response.

Luckily Holly had a knack for dealing with difficult customers, and rushed over to serve him with a beaming smile. “Of course! I can’t apologise enough for being distracted. What can I get for you?”

Lucy decided she was in dire need of a break. She set a timer, threw together a cup of tea and drifted off into the break room, finding comfort in the battered settee with with so many cracks and tears the original leather was barely visible.

She drew her phone out of her apron pocket. The missed call notification still sat there, taunting her for not knowing how to reply. Skull himself hadn’t said anything, either, which was incredibly unusual for him. It was bobbing on three p.m.; normally by now he would have sent at least two obscure memes, three colourful insults, and one post from their shared paranormal forum with added commentary on how stupid OP was. Instead, she hadn’t heard a peep from him.

‘Unusual’ was a massive understatement.

Her teeth worried the skin of her lips. What if something serious had happened, and she was too hung up on a silly missed call to check up on him? What if she’d done something to severely piss him off, and the missed call was his last attempt to hash it out?

Or—the most likely scenario—what if he clicked the call button without realising, and she was making a huge deal over something hilariously insignificant?

She took a swig of her scalding tea, let her head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a long, excruciating moment of contemplation, then eventually opened their chat.

The cursor blinked. Lucy steeled her nerves and reminded herself that she was being a complete tit.

[Joan] did you mean to call me?

There! Message sent; she was officially no longer a cowardly over-thinker. She relaxed and sunk further into the chair, but stiffened as soon as she saw that Skull was typing. Okay, scratch that—she was definitely still a cowardly over-thinker.

[Skull] yea we need 2 talk

Shit.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to type her response.

[Joan] shit, is everything alright? [Skull] no its p serious [Skull] thought it wldv been easier 2 talk abt it over the phone [Skull] but ur probs at work rn so ill just text it [Skull] hold on

Lucy straightened and waited with bated breath, tea all but forgotten about. In the time Skull took to type, Lucy involuntarily went through all of her worst-case scenarios one more time, and suddenly felt the need for a drink much stronger than tea. Christ—why was this bothering her so much?

[Skull] ive been diagnosed with [Skull] huge dick syndrome [Skull] its fatal. im so sorry

Lucy slowly placed her phone on the settee, counteracting the urge to lob it directly at the nearest wall. She gave herself a moment to breathe—in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Holly taught her to do when a customer really got on her nerves—before cautiously picking it back up again.

[Joan] you’re a fucking menace [Joan] don’t pull that kind of thing again. [Skull] HAHAHAHAHAHA [Skull] dont lie joanie. i got you GOOD [Joan] I knew you could be a proper knob sometimes but I didn’t think it was this bad [Skull] clearly u gotta get 2 know me better [Skull] in all honesty tho i didnt mean to call u [Skull] the call button is right next 2 the block button [Skull] an idiotic design choice if i ever saw one [Joan] you ought to send the developers a strongly worded email [Skull] who the fuck says ought in a casual conversation [Joan] it’s a perfectly normal thing to say?? [Skull] yea if ur from the middle ages [Joan] ok shut up we’re not changing the topic [Joan] if you didn’t mean to call me, why did you go radio silent? [Joan] surely the normal thing to do would’ve been to say “Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you” [Skull] Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you [Joan] dick [Skull] huge one, yeah [Skull] its a serious condition [Joan] 🖕 [Skull] i didnt even realise id butt dialed you lmao [Skull] fell asleep right after. woke up like 10 mins ago [Skull] im a different creature past midnight [Skull] unaware of and unliable for my actions [Joan] good luck getting that to hold up in court [Skull] id charm my way into acquittal [Skull] all the lady judges would love me [Skull] actually so wld the non lady judges [Skull] im just that irresistible [Joan] more like irritating :/ [Joan] they’d declare you guilty so they never have to see your ugly mug again [Skull] u have no proof i have an ugly mug [Skull] for all u know i cld b on magazine covers [Skull] flexing. smouldering. [Skull] rock hard jawline [Skull] rock hard abs [Skull] rock hard thighs [Joan] I’m stopping that list right there [Skull] buzzkill. [Skull] i bet your manager keeps u in the back so ur face doesnt scare off the poor customers [Joan] I’m practically the face of the company [Joan] everyone loves me [Skull] this is some next level delusion [Skull] does ‘everyone’ include Pretty Boy [Joan] this is some next level obsession [Skull] im not obsessed with him [Skull] im far superior than him anyway [Skull] if he saw me in the street hed drop dead [Skull] out of pure shock [Skull] from seeing my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] STOP [Skull] my sexy voice alone could crush his ego [Joan] I wasn’t aware voice cracks and nervous trembling could do that [Skull] kiss my arse joan [Skull] you have no idea what i sound like [Joan] and same vice versa

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. She had an opening here—should she take it? She took a sip of her tea, now disgustingly lukewarm, and decided to go for it.

[Joan] is it weird, that we talk so regularly but only ever over text? [Skull] cant say its ever crossed my mind [Skull] why wld that b weird [Joan] I don’t know [Joan] it’s just something a coworker mentioned [Skull] so THAT’S why the missed call got under ur skin [Skull] ur so painfully transparent [Joan] no I’m not? [Skull] denial is not a good look on u [Skull] if it bothers u so much we can just call [Skull] like any normal fucking ppl wld do [Joan] I suppose [Skull] its not a big deal [Skull] unless u swoon so hard at my voice u get a concussion or smth [Skull] which is highly likely [Skull] considering ur delicate disposition [Joan] wtf is that supposed to mean [Skull] last time Pretty Boy called u by ur name u almost dropped ur phone in coffee [Joan] in hindsight [Joan] mentioning that to you was a mistake [Skull] it wasnt [Skull] its a great addition to my joan blackmail bank [Joan] har bloody har [Joan] you’re a comedic genius [Skull] oh em gee its so nice 2 see my talent finally b acknowledged

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Her break was up. Startled that the time had flown by so quickly, she checked the clock on the wall, only to find she was indeed due back on the shop floor.

On the bright side, she no longer had to worry about the possibility of Skull being a) dead, or b) eternally pissed off at her. Instead, her mind focused on the very real chance that she’d be talking to him on the phone in the near future.

Lucy was by no means completely inept; she could handle a phone call when it was necessary. However, phoning her old insurance provider to get them to remove her from their annoying mailing list and calling a close (could she consider them close when she knew so little about him?) friend acquaintance for the first time were very, very different things.

A hot burst of air greeted her as she emerged from the back and settled behind the counter. She’d been a barista at this cafe for so long everything was muscle memory. It was a mostly handy skill, until someone once switched the syrups around and she almost handed a hazelnut latte to someone with a severe nut allergy. Besides that, and… her tendency to text on the job… she swore she was a virtue to the company.

“Got a clearer head now?” Holly said over the sound of milk being steamed.

“Yeah. I brought it up, and now we might actually end up calling.”

“Ooh, how exciting!” Holly beamed, then added quietly, “Unless he turns out to be a creep, that is.”

Lucy took moment too long to reply. “I’m sure he isn’t.”

“…Yeah!” Was Holly’s response, full of fake optimism that was far from convincing.

A third voice—one Lucy was becoming more familiar with these days—came from the other side of the counter. “Who might turn out to be a creep?”

Lucy rushed to meet Lockwood at the till. Even on a Saturday, he was still dressed smartly. “Oh, no one. Just— er, a friend of mine.”

“They only ever text! He could be anyone,” Holly stage-whispered to him.

Lucy gently batted her out of the way. “You don’t need to spill my private life to customers, thank you.”

“But he’s our best regular.”

Lockwood beamed. “Glad to hear it.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and tapped the till screen out of standby. “Your usual?”

“No, actually,” he said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself over something so trivial. “I’d like to try that new gingerbread latte, please.”

“A sucker for a Christmas special, are we?”

He shrugged. “Who can’t resist a bit of seasonal marketing? I’ll also have a slice of lemon drizzle too, if you’ll allow it.”

A huff of laughter escaped her. “Wow, you’re really branching out today.”

He gave her another one of his toothy grins. As he paid, he quirked a curious eyebrow. “What’s this about a maybe-creep you only ever text, then?”

“Oh, I can’t believe Holly told you about that.” Actually, she could—over the past month or so, Lockwood’s visits had become less by-the-script, and the two of them had learnt more about him than they ever expected to. Of course, it was a two way street, and as a result Lockwood gained a firm grasp on Lucy’s sarcasm, weakness for confident smiles, and now her friendship with a random guy on the internet.

She’d managed to avoid mentioning Skull to him, up until now. She was surprised the secrecy had lasted this long, though she was unsure why she’d been so keen to keep quiet about him.

“We met online,” she said slowly. Thankfully, putting Lockwood’s order together kept her hands busy and her brain occupied, which meant she had less energy to overthink how she’d explain her situation. “Met through a shared interest. We were— er, well, honestly we argued a lot, at first. I’m not sure how it turned into a friendship, but it did, and now we talk pretty regularly.”

“Every day,” Holly added.

“For…?”

Lucy shrunk in on herself slightly. “…Six months? Ish?”

Lockwood whistled, long and slow. “That’s quite a bit of time.”

“Exactly!”

“Holly, shut up,” Lucy said with very little venom. “We’re going to call. We’re going to talk. It’s not an issue.”

He leaned on the counter, watching her dust ginger onto his drink. “Right now?”

“What? No, not right now. That’d be mad.”

“Could be interesting.”

She slid the drink and plate over to him. “Don’t be nosey.”

“It’s in my nature, Luce.” He winked, taking a sip of his drink. “Gossip at heart.”

Lucy’s stomach did a funny flip. She playfully waved him off under the pretence she was in a rush to serve the next waiting customer, and was harshly reminded she forgot to put her phone on silent when her pocket was met with a barrage of vibrations.

As the atmosphere lulled once all customers had been served and seated, she returned to her chat with Skull. Most of it was pure gibberish, a poor attempt at grabbing her attention again by way of spam.

[Skull] did u fucking die??? [Joan] when will you get it into your thick skull that I have timed breaks [Joan] and once said timed breaks are over [Joan] I go back to work [Skull] yet here u r, still txting on the job [Skull] what a rebel u are, joanie [Skull] its cute u spend ur entire allocated free time talking 2 me [Skull] clearly u have ur priorities straight [Joan] if that were true I’d have blocked you ages ago [Skull] oh no, my ego [Skull] has PB swung round yet today [Joan] he just did [Skull] and? [Skull] come on. give me the details [Skull] don’t deprive me of the gossip [Joan] nothing really happened [Joan] he changed his order up [Joan] asked about you [Skull] he fucking what [Joan] my chatty coworker told him :/ [Joan] and he got curious [Skull] did u tell him abt my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] stfu that wasn’t even funny the first time [Skull] lies + slander [Skull] what did u tell him [Joan] I didn’t expect you to care so much about what he thinks [Skull] i dont. [Skull] im looking for openings to bully him [Joan] I just told him how we ‘met’ [Skull] is that it?? [Skull] thats so fucking boring [Joan] I mean [Joan] we also briefly spoke about the whole Only Texting situation [Skull] christ. what did he say to that [Joan] he thought I was going to call you right there and then [Joan] on the shop floor [Skull] is he stupid [Joan] hypocrite [Skull] my intellect is vast and varied tyvm [Skull] y is everyone obsessed with the calling thing [Skull] whys it such a big deal

Lucy glanced at her phone sidelong as she wiped down the counters. Why was it such a big deal?

She dwelled on it for a moment or two, but was cut short at the sight of the whole screen lighting up with Incoming call: Skull.

At first, she simply stared. Pressing the red decline button would mean everything stayed as it was—no awkward first phone call, no pressure to make their casual, stupid online friendship something more meaningful, no caving to the expectations of the more socially well-adjusted people around her. But pressing the green pick up button would mean… well, it would mean talking to Skull. Like actual friends. What would they even talk about?

Curiosity gnawed away at her.

Lucy pressed the green button.

“You were staring at your phone wondering if you should pick up, weren’t you?”

She wasn’t sure what she expected Skull to sound like, but it wasn’t quite this. He didn’t sound significantly older or younger, though his voice had a slight rasp to it, and she could hear his smile—knowing him, it was more likely to be a smirk—through his words. It was unfamiliar, yet so undeniably Skull that she couldn’t help but smile a bit herself.

“No. I told you, I’m at work. Busy day.”

“Busy enough that you picked up the phone in the middle of your shift?”

She rolled her eyes fondly and signalled to Holly she’d be back in five minutes—emergency, she mouthed, gesturing to the phone at her ear—and Holly gave her a knowing look in return.

London’s wintery chill nipped at her skin as soon as she stepped outside, but the fresh air was nothing short of lovely.

She squinted up at the sky; grey clouds loomed overhead. “Why now? Why not call later?”

“Got sick of you awkwardly bringing it up over text,” he said, then added: “Wanted to see if you’d pick up.”

“Well, here I am. I picked up. Now what?”

A short pause. “You were the one that was so bothered by it all.”

“I wasn’t that bothered.”

“Er, yeah you fucking were. So, my voice: what’s the verdict? Are you swooning?”

She gave a harsh huff of laughter. “You bloody wish.”

“I can hear you moved outside. Needed some fresh air to cool your blush?”

“Shut up? You’re not funny. Besides, my voice is miles better. I bet you almost tripped over your own feet when I first spoke.”

“I’m nothing but elegant and graceful,” he said, playfully indignant, “even when faced with a really annoying, nasally voice.”

“Charming.”

A beat, then: “I didn’t know you were northern.”

A small, ugly snort escaped her as she contemplated this. At the beginning of their acquaintanceship they’d stuck to an unspoken rule of avoiding delving into their personal lives, but as time passed and they became more comfortable with brutally bullying each other under the guise of friendship, details had come out here and there. They were both English. She worked at a cafe. His go-to drink order was an espresso martini (I’d had you down as a guinness kind of guy, Lucy had said, to which he responded thats the worst fucking insult). The drops of info were random and sporadic, and ended up so Lucy knew Skull had a really stupid tattoo on his left arse cheek, but he didn’t know she was northern—and this, in her opinion, was downright hilarious.

“You do now,” she said. “Look, I really can’t talk for long. I already spend way too much of my shift on my phone.”

“This was an emergency,” Skull said dryly, “you had to succumb to social pressures and modern friendship conventions.”

Lucy huffed in disbelief. “Friendship?”

“Slip of the tongue. I meant rivalry.”

“Of course you did. Denial is not a good look— er, sound, on you.”

He scoffed playfully. “Don’t throw my own words back at me. It’s not my fault you’re desperate for my attention and companionship.”

“And it isn’t my fault you’re projecting.”

“Ooh, you’re pushing it,” he said, and Lucy really could hear his smile. “I could just hang up right now and never contact you again.”

She sighed wistfully. “That would truly be the dream.”

“A nightmare for you, more like. You couldn’t survive without m—”

Lucy took great satisfaction in hanging up on him, and waltzed back into the shop with a lazy smile on her face. To her surprise, it wasn’t Holly whose eye she caught first upon her return, but Lockwood’s. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before flashing a grin—it was his split-second of hesitation that made Lucy wonder if he’d been watching her call Skull through the window.

“So,” Holly drawled, leaning in close as Lucy returned behind the counter, “how was the emergency?”

“Awful. Three wounded, one fatality.”

Holly’s teasing smile froze; it was clear she still hadn’t fully accustomed to Lucy’s sense of humour.

“It was fine. It’s nice to just have that over and done with. Now I can stop thinking about it.”

“What was he like?”

“Exactly how he is over text— no, wait, his ego was actually more inflated. He’s a bit insufferable.”

“The smile on your face counteracts your words, Luce.” Holly playfully nudged her before diverting her attention to a waiting customer, and together they fell back into their routine. After the line had gone back down, she stole a glance at her phone, and held back a snort at the notifications waiting for her.

[Skull] how DARE you. how fucking dare you [Skull] next time we call I’m getting my revenge

[ltwharfy]

Long Post of Random Thoughts on Finishing "Gravity Falls"

Are you interested in reading a really long post where a middle-aged guy talks about a children’s cartoon that ended seven years ago? If so, you are in luck! I just finished watching “Gravity Falls” y’all! And here are a bunch of totally random thoughts about it:

-“I’ll have you know Duck-tective has a big mystery element! And a lot of humor that goes over kids’ heads!”- it was nice that the kids show that I became obsessed with over the past two months or so acknowledged the reasons adults might get obsessed with it. Also, Duck-tective has to be one of my favorite show-within-a-show premises. I’d definitely check it out!

-While I do love the humor of the show so much, it is really the mystery element- the ongoing story arc- that took me by surprise and eventually led to me bingeing the last eight episodes or so in one day. I just don’t remember animated kids comedies- or really, many kids shows of any type-when I was growing up that had ongoing story arcs like that. Kids shows where the episodes could be watched in any order and everything was always “back to normal” at the beginning of the next episode was the norm.

-I’ve been a fan of Kristen Schaal since she was on The Daily Show and eventually end up watching everything she’s in. So, the main thing I knew about Gravity Falls going into it was “Kristen Schaal does the voice of that girl”. As Louise Belcher is one of my favorite TV characters, I was worried- would I be able to forget about Louise while hearing Mabel? Yes, quite easily. Their personalities are so different! It was basically never an issue. I actually tried to listen for Mabel lines that sounded like Louise might say them and really only ended up with two that stuck out to me (“I high-five hard.” and “I AM THE GOD OF DESTRUCTION!”)

-Oh, but Louise would also want a grappling hook. And, honestly, she’d get as much or more use of it than Mabel did. Like I can think of a few episodes (and the movie…) where it could’ve been helpful. But I digress.

-One final Bob’s Burgers related point, there were a few things in season two that I just couldn’t help but wonder if they were references to Bob’s Burgers. First, the Jersey Shore hometown of Stan and Ford definitely made me think of Seymour’s Bay. And the Pines briefly have a burger phone in “The Stan-Churian Candidate”! On the other hand, both Jersey Shore towns and burger phones are real things that existed well before Bob’s Burgers and not every appearance of them is a reference to it. (But when you’ve also got Kristen Schaal involved…)

-And speaking of cast members who I remembered from other things, both Dipper and Wendy were voiced by actors from short-lived early 00s shows that I loved: Joan of Arcadia’s Jason Ritter and Freaks and Geeks’s Linda Cardellini. The fact that I will associate them with those shows is another indication that I am not in the target demographic of Gravity Falls! But, honestly, if I had known Linda Cardellini was also in this show, I might have checked it out sooner.

-And speaking of Dipper and Wendy, I really loved how they handled Dipper’s crush on her in season two. Their scene together at the end of “Into the Bunker” is so sweet, it just made me feel so much affection for both the characters and the folks who make the show. It would’ve been so easy to never really make any effort to resolve that plotline and instead just always have Dipper pathetically crushing on her for the whole show. Or make it a nerdy boy wish-fulfillment thing and have her actually return his feelings (which just wouldn’t’ve been realistic given their ages). Instead, I feel like they addressed it in a realistic and sensitive way, which was nice.

-Another thing I really appreciated was how they developed some of the supporting characters in season 2, particularly Old Man McGucket and Pacifica Northwest. I enjoyed those characters in season one, but pretty much assumed they would always stay in their stock character roles- crazy old man and mean rich girl, respectively. Instead, McGucket gets what I found to be some of the most moving scenes in the show- when he gets his memories back and when he reunites with Ford.

-And Pacifica! She’s honestly the character I find myself wondering the most about what happens to them after the show. She’s realized her family has been pretty horrible for generations. She stood up to her parents. Her family lost some of their money and had to sell their mansion (her dad pledging allegiance to Bill and investing in weirdness bonds is probably one of my favorite details from the finale). She’s becoming a teenager. And she lives in Gravity Falls full time. I just think her post-series finale life is gonna be pretty fascinating!

-And maybe that life will involve her getting romantically involved with Dipper? Yeah, I started shipping that after “Northwest Mansion Mystery”, and even though the show really didn’t give them any scenes together (which is understandable, there was a lot of other stuff going on) I still like it. I checked to see if there was fic about it on AO3 and immediately got freaked out because there is so dang much of it! Seriously, the number of Dipper/Pacifica fics on there is literally ten times the number of fics for my favorite Bob’s Burgers ship! What am I supposed to do with that?!

-So if the statement, “I’m looking for the ‘Be My Thrill’/’heaven help the fool who falls in love’ of Dipper/Pacifica fics” means something to you, and you have a recommendation, let me know.

-One supporting character I wish had been introduced earlier: Tad Strange, the most normal person in town. The name, the character design, the voice, all just amused me. It would’ve been fun if there was more of him.

-Speaking of supporting character designs that I loved: Toby Determined and his hat, with the press card that says “hat” instead of “press”. That literally always made me smile. I love it so much. It is one of my favorite cartoon character design details ever.

-Possibly the most random of observations: I can now think of four fictional characters named Mabel off the top of my head, but don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with that name in real life.

-I don’t have any kids of my own, but I do have a nephew, and now I am pretty excited about the possibility that I could be a Grunkle a few decades down the road. Hopefully, I’ll have my own Mystery Shack by then.

-Even though I know how the storyline ends now, I feel like this show has a high level of rewatchability for some point in the future. I’m sure there will be tons of details that I didn’t notice the first time around, and there are definitely more layers of it to peel back (I never paid attention to the codes/puzzles in the credits. Although, had I been watching this show when I was 10 I probably would’ve obsessed about them.)

-I can probably think of more things to say about this show and probably will, but this seems like enough for now. Thanks to Alex Hirsch and everyone involved in making the show for creating such wonderfully weird, hilarious, entertaining world! And thanks to you, person who actually read to the end of this post!

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

All right, I did a post yesterday about the Cowgate incident of 2003, which started because I read the disappointing news that the site of the incident will be closed to the public when I'm in Edinburgh this summer, and I literally read it during a brief period of being awake in the middle of a fever dream. And then of course I made a post about it, because if you wake up in the middle of a fever dream, you always have to post about the real-life incident that most resembles the content of an actual fever dream.

This made me realize it's been a little while since I've actually watched that video, I went through a year or so of re-watching it at least once a week (mainly because it became a go-to re-watch when drunk, particularly near the end of the night when I no longer wanted to focus on anything coherent or longer than a few minutes, personally I'd never want to be at a comedy show while drunk but I do see why they'd do this for a drunk crowd, it appeals to that side of the brain), but I hadn't seen it in six months or so. I thought, I've probably been building this up in my head a bit in the six months of not actually watching it. The idea of Cowgate as a weird drunken fever dream (though one enjoyable thing about it is that besides Adam Hills and the entire audience I'm pretty sure the people involved were sober, as that was sort of the Chocolate Milk Gang's thing, getting their name specifically because they were the only people who didn't get drunk at late-night Edinburgh shows, instead they went for milkshakes across the road) had become a running joke in my mind and sometimes my Tumblr references, but at this point it's more of a symbol than anything else. After writing that post that ran with the joke of it being an iconic violent ritual, I thought it would be fun to spend some of my sick day at home re-watching the actual video, expecting to find that it just looks like relatively expected raucous comedy show shenanigans, not quite as mind-breakingly weird as I remember.

...Guys, it's exactly as I remembered. It's so weird. I've made multiple deep dive Cowgate posts before, but not for at least six months (I think the last time I did it one was for the 20th anniversary, August 26 last year, so almost exactly six months, actually), and I think six months should be long enough to make me allowed to repeat myself on the subject. Because there's almost nothing I haven't said before, but watching it again made me want to say it all again. And I do mean almost - I think I did discover one new detail while watching it between fever dreams yesterday. It's pretty good.

Okay, first of all, here's the video in all its glory:

I cannot emphasize enough how much the first time I came across this it was 2 AM and I had no context for understanding where they were or what was going on. Since then, I have figured out: it's a show called Late 'n' Live. It takes place on many nights throughout the Edinburgh Festival, at a venue called the Gilded Balloon. The Gilded Balloon is owned by Karen Koren. It burned down in 2002 and was rebuilt nearby, this video is from 2003, in the rebuilt venue on Teviot Place. The Late 'n' Live event runs from around 11:30 PM to around 3:30 AM and consists of a bunch of comedians who come on, sometimes to do their own sets and sometimes to do shit like this, managed by a compere, and after that they bring out a band and it turns into a dance floor. At this time, it was known for being a bearpit with a drunk and rough crowd that sometimes got violent. For several years in the late '90s and early '00s, it was famous compered by Johnny Vegas. It was then compered, throughout the early- and mid-00s, by Daniel Kitson. I mean I think there was some crossover, obviously they didn't just have one compere for an entire month and people besides those two guys did it too, some people had to get some sleep at some point. Anyway, these are all things that I know as a direct result of the rabbit hole I went down after finding this video and needing to understand what the ever loving fuck was going on in it. I actually know a lot more than that about Late 'n' Live, but there isn't time for it all right now. I've watched a four-part BBC Scotland documentary series about the history of Late 'n' Live. I watched a Tim Minchin documentary mainly because I like Tim Minchin but a little bit because it had a lot of the Gilded Balloon in it and that was relevant to my Late 'n' Live research. I have an entire folder on my hard drive called Late 'n' Live and it has too many files in it.

One of them's a gif of David O'Doherty throwing his entire body with abandon onto different things at Late 'n' Live in different years: onto Jason Byrne in 2003, onto the floor in 2005, and onto Daniel Kitson in 2007. All clips I found in entirely different sources and decided they needed to be together.

Anyway. I'm getting off topic. Already. Cowgate. The point is Cowgate. I named the incident Cowgate because that's the name of the neighbourhood where the original Gilded Balloon was, and, you know, it was a cow. A cow and what looked like it had to be some sort of scandal. I think it's very clever.

So here's the thing. After I first found that video, which seemed like a tiny relic of one of many moments of one of many nights on one of many years that this stuff went on, and I set about obsessively looking things up for weeks to try to figure out what they were doing, in the process I came across a second video that also happened to capture the same moment. Amazing stuff.

The former video was on the Gilded Balloon's YouTube channel, and seemed to have been filmed officially by the venue staff. This latter one was a montage of videos taken throughout the night by an audience member who apparently had whatever people used to film things at gigs in 2003. Wouldn't have been a camera phone back then.

This video shed a bit of light on some of the essential mysteries of Cowgate, but didn't actually answer many, and to be honest it asked more questions than it answered. Obviously, one of the main questions I had about Cowgate was "Where did the cow come from?" I'd wondered whether the Chocolate Milk Gang had somehow procured it, or whether they took something that was already there. Both options would open up a lot more questions, such as where did they get it, and if it wasn't there because they specifically put it there for the purposes of taking it apart, how did they get permission to take it apart?

The longer video suggests that it's the latter. It shows Daniel Kitson earlier in the night, messing around with the cow the way he might if its presence on stage were a surprise to him as well as to the audience.

The other essential question is "Why did they attack it?", and this earlier scene may suggest a possible reason. From the dialogue, it seems that Kitson jumped on top of it because the crowd told him to, and then the crowd keeps shouting other cow-based challenges at him, and he makes fun of them for suggesting challenges that are too easy (jump off it, touch it, etc.). The video then cuts, but it is possible that he challenged the crowd to ask him to do something difficult with it, and they said to tear it apart, and then it escalated. That scene seems to be from the beginning of the night, and we know the actual Cowgate ritual was the last thing that happened in the night, because right after they finish Kitson brings the band out and that occurs after the comedy ends. So it's possible that they could have come up with the challenge at the beginning, spent a few hours sourcing various weapons, and then done this at the end.

That theory of course brings up other questions, like how they decided on the weaponry. And, again, why they were allowed to do that. The answer to that question depends on where the cow came from, which I still don't know. I once spent a week looking up the International Cow Parade because I thought maybe it was part of that, but I don't think so anymore. It has the word Metro on the side of it, and someone in the YouTube comments called it the Metro cow. So it was probably an advertisement, not an art piece. But I wouldn't have thought your allowed to take apart a company's advertising installation. Maybe it was going to be destroyed after the festival anyway? Also, why was there a cow-based Metro advertisement on the floor at a comedy gig anyway?

I'd like to go through the video in further detail, as I've done many times before, but not for six months so I think I'm allowed a new one, and also I've come up with one (1) new fact (theory) so that's worth doing the whole thing again. I've just spent two days sick in bed, please allow me to indulge in this.

- Right at the beginning, the "three chances" thing still confuses me. That line really suggests that this is a challenge, not just a weird stunt, that they are being tested to see if they can do it. Possibly tested by an audience that was told to come up with a more difficult idea for something the comedians could try with a cow.

But what are the paramatres of the challenge? To take the cow apart, sure, but the "three chances" line implies more specific restrictions. Did they try this two other times earlier in the night and weren't able to do it? Perhaps tried it earlier with fewer weapons? Or did "three chances" mean three people are allowed to work on it? Doesn't seem likely, as Kitson jumped in fairly quickly and made it four.

- Adam Hills sounds like he's referencing something with "literally bottle it". I know "bottle it" is a expression that means "fuck it up", but I don't see how that's literal in this case. Was there a bottle involved? What would bottling it mean in this instance? Failing the audience's challenge? I don't even know for sure that it was an audience challenge, that's just a guess based on the beginning. It could be something else entirely.

- The part where John Oliver, Demetri Martin, and David O'Doherty scurry across the stage like squirrels makes me laugh every time. Why are they all bent over? What are they hiding from?

- David O'Doherty appears to be the only person who came out carrying a weapon. In the first shot of the guys attacking the cow, DO'D is hitting it with a hammer that he presumably brought from backstage. The other two are pulling on it with their bare hands. Then, in a detail I find hilarious, Demetri Marin reaches behind him and grabs what appears to be a chisel off the floor. I guess what probably happened is he did bring that with him from backstage, then put it down, and we just see him pick it back up. But the editing makes it look like he's tried pulling the horns, it didn't work, so he turned around and grabbed the nearest tool, like a character in a video game that just finds useful weapons lying around.

- It also makes me laugh that Adam Hills used his rap-based narration to make sexual jokes about the cow, while Kitson puts his hand over his mouth/in the air like a rapper, to show he's totally on board with this gangsta rap thing, but also, they have shit to and it's (presumably) nearly 4 AM, so the actual content of his lyrics is going to be to give useful practical advice on how to get this job done. Because they're not combining the tools, and you really need to use the chisel and hammer together or it'll never work.

I enjoy the way at this point, John Oliver takes just the briefest break from attacking a facsimile cow with his bare hands to look up Kitson, looking quite impressed with his approach to the situation. "Yes, thank you Daniel, finally some helpful ideas instead of just cowfucking jokes, now let's get that chisel over here."

- It can be hard to see in the darkness, but this whole thing is basically a Kitson and Oliver-oriented plan. Kitson shouts at DO'D to "combine the chisel and the hammer". John Oliver then points like he's directing a play, getting DO'D to bring his hammer to the other side.

DO'D does this, but puts the hammer down on the ground over there, instead of combining it with anything. That's when Kitson taps DO'D on the back like a pretend wrestler tagging in, possibly deciding that if he stays on the sidelines rapping all night, they'll never get this done and be allowed to leave. So he pushes DO'D out of the way, and takes his spot next to John Oliver. Then he reaches down and grabs a random chisel off the ground, again like a video game character. Then he reaches over the cow and picks up the hammer that DO'D has discarded (like a video game character), so he is now combining the chisel and the hammer. At the same time, John Oliver has physically taken the first chisel out of Demitri Martin's hand, and starts working on the same end as Kitson. Now they're getting somewhere.

- This is one of those videos that's funny every time if you keep running it back to watch the same eight seconds over but this time focus on a different person. DO'D tries to get in after Kitson straight-up stole his spot, leans in but can't find an opening, gives up and walks all the way around them both to try the other end of the cow because clearly the Kitson and Oliver dream team have this end sewn up.

- Then, there's a curveball: someone with the word CREW on the back of their shirt comes out of absolutely nowhere, and hands John Oliver a lead pipe, like a character fucking Clue(do, depending where you live). Where did this come from? Do most stages have large bits of piping lying around backstage? Was John Oliver supposed to bring it on stage with him but forgot it so they had to run it out to him? Or did those crew people decide that they're not making enough progress, someone had better find a large pipe and bring it on stage and hand it to John Oliver so we can all go home.

I've been writing this post so far while watching the official video - the one off the Gilded Balloon YouTube channel - but I think you get a much better view of this specific part from the way it was captured in the montage by an audience member. It's another part that I find incredibly funny. John Oliver is methodically working away with Demitri Martin's chisel and his own hands. Then someone hands him a large weapon, and he immediately raises it above his head like a sword and starts whacking the thing full tilt. Scares the shit out of Kitson on one side of him and DO'D on the other. They both jump, Demitri Martin just cautiously circles away.

In the words of a John Oliver bit that is long outdated but lives on in our hearts and my DVD collection... whaky stick. Whacky stick!!!

Kitson, after initially jumping, responds by choosing to imitate John's style, and starts raising the hammer over his own head to attack it with full force in the same way. While DO'D literally cowers in the corner:

And Demitri Martin continues to do what he's been doing since John took his tool away, which is to run his hands over the body of a cow like a mechanic sizing up a car. He has contributed almost nothing to this operation. I don't even think Demetri Martin knows how to take cows apart. Too busy turning letters into numbers and stuff.

- After getting over the initial excitement of waving a pipe around wildly, John Oliver employs the more thought-out strategy of using it like a lever, trying to prise it open at the seam. Kitson gets in beside him and starts attacking this same seam, striking the weak spot repeatedly with the hammer. In the background, DO'D and Demetri Martin appear to try jumping on the thing.

This is the strategy they're still employing the moment the cow finally comes apart:

I've observed this from multiple angles, and at first I thought Kitson deserved the most credit for breaking it, but now I think it was mainly John Oliver's work. Definitely a team effort though (or at least a dual effort, not sure how much the other two helped, though to be fair the bigger boys took their tools away). It comes apart at the exact spot where Kitson was hitting it with the hammer, you can see Kitson give it a hard kick, then one more strike, then put his arms up in celebration as this strike breaks it in half. But I'm pretty sure it was John's leverage from behind him that allowed him to split the thing.

- At this point they all contribute to pulling it the rest of the way apart; Kitson and Martin hold the top half while Oliver and DO'D take out the bottom. This is another part I find very funny - the way they're so matter-of-fact about handing it out to the audience. Look at John Oliver and David O'Doherty marching this across the stage like they're workers delivering a coach or something:

- Then the camera shows the cow being crowd surfed. The YouTube comments say: "The Metro cow got smashed in two and crowd surfed over everyone out the back door". In his lyrics, Adam Hills talks about taking it up the Royal Mile. The Royal Mile is the street outside, so all this suggests that they continued to take the cow outside and down the street. Was that part of the challenge? Was the initial plan to take the thing apart and then have it carried through the streets of Edinburgh? How far did this cow go?

- I have so far compared them to video game characters, board game characters, tag-team pretend wrestlers, a mechanic, and delivery workers. But my favourite thing to compare them to is probably at the end, when they celebrate like football players who've just won a big match.

"Great work everyone, good hustle out there, really pulled together as a team. Okay, now hit the showers. I want to see you all dressed and ready for milkshakes in ten minutes flat."

- There is so much going on in this video that I find it easier to not try to focus on it all at once, I have to do one thing and then backtrack. So now that I've gone through the whole video while looking at what the rest of them were doing, I need to backtrack and go over the lyrics to Adam Hills' song.

Question: Did Adam Hills think he was going to have to do this alone, or was he supposed to have Kitson co-MC-ing, but then Kitson jumped in partway through? Because I think the latter may have happened. Kitson was the compere for the whole night, as we see in the montage video.

Adam Hills If you had three chances Would you take them? Or would you quite literally bottle it?

As I said before: don't know what he's talking about there. What got literally bottled? Why three chances?

His palms are sweaty, his hair is sweaty He's ready to shoot spaghetti He's got a cow on stage It's got red horns, it's all the rage

This is veering wildly off topic, but I just want to mention that that Adam Hills got his off the cuff "stage/all the rage" rhyme because he'd heard DO'D use it in a freestyle rap battle with Daniel Kitson, that we know from the montage took place earlier than night (another one of my favourite videos, but we don't have time to go into this one right now):

It's cow tipping, it's not quite shitty Get that cow down in this city Take it up the Royal Mile, attack it with a hammer Kitson's on the stage, he's [?] with a hammer

Again, how far did the cow go? They had clearly planned from the beginning (of this song, at least) to have it out on the Royal Mile. YouTube comments confirm it left the building.

David O'Doherty's going up the ass It's time to fuck this motherfucking class Fuck the udder (x4) Let's get this udder fucking cow out of here

After all the times I've watched this video, this is the first time I've noticed that Adam Hills tried a pun on "mother fucking" there. Glad he's having a good time.

Daniel Kitson Davey, Davey, what you need to do Is combine the chisel and the hammer

Finally, some useful fucking advice.

Adam Hills There's Martin, Demitri Martin The Perrier win has left me smartin'

This was August 26, Hills' song mentions later that it's the last night of Late 'n' Live for that year, so the Perrier Awards had just been given out. In 2003, Demetri Martin won the main award over other nominees: Reginald D. Hunter, Flight of the Conchords, Howard Read and Little Howard, and Adam Hills. Adam Hills, who had also been nominated the previous year, when he lost to Daniel Kitson, and the year before that, when he lost to Garth Marenghi. So he is actually being, as a YouTube comment said, a pretty good sport to jump in and have fun about it. If I were him I'd probably resent losing out an award again and then not even getting to smash shit up.

John Oliver, he's the man If that pipe won't do it, nothing can David O'Doherty, he comes from Ireland, the land of the green Daniel Kitson, he's got a hammer He's also got one motherfucking stammer

I quite enjoy the way no one responds to any of this. Adam Hills starts calling them out by name, including bringing up Kitson's stutter and DO'D nationality and his awards rivalry with Demetri Martin, and none of them even briefly looks at him. They are all very busy and focused on the important task of destroying a cow.

It's time to break this cow down It's time to break this cow down It's not time to chow down It's time to break this cow down

I want this verse embroidered on a throw pillow. Actually, I think I want these entire lyrics printed out and framed on my wall.

Late 'n' Live, Late 'n' Live, it's the very last night It's time to wrap this show up tight Send it out the front, send it out the... [cow breaks apart] Break the cow, break it in half Lead it out the front to the path

Once again, talk of parading this thing around outside the venue. Where were they taking it?

Karen Koren, she's outside She's got petrol dripping down her eyes There was a fire at the Gilded Balloon The police found no one else was to blame If this season doesn't go well This fucking venue's going up in flames

That, of course, is a reference to the Gilded Balloon's history. It burned down in a fire in December 2002. It's now August 2003, and they're in a new venue that was rebuilt nearby. Karen Koren is the venue's owner. I'm pretty sure Adam Hills is implying that she's going to burn down the new venue if the performers don't do well enough. Actually, he's not implying that, he's outright stating it. What he's implying is that she burned down the first venue, presumably for the insurance money, and she is currently outside ready to burn this one down too, if they perform badly enough to make the insurance money worth more than the shows bring in.

The cow's in half, the cow's in half Let's hear it for the cow in half!

This is like that famous poem that was allegedly written by a child about a tiger breaking out of its cage. Sheer poetry.

Tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning sun goes up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be grey But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

What's interesting about this is that these are the lyrics to Stan, which is a different Eminem song from the one he was (sort of) singing at the beginning, which was lose yourself. This may or may not be related to the fact that Adam Hills is the only person in this performance who was not a member of the Chocolate Milk Gang, which was a group of comedians known for not getting drunk during or after late-night Edinburgh shows.

It may also be related to the fact that this is a clip of the Edinburgh show that Adam Hills had just spent a month performing:

So he had Stan in his head all month anyway, he was on stage and remembered he was supposed to be singing an Eminem song, his brain told him that the Eminem song he sings on stage is Stan. Fair enough.

Though it's worth noting that those aren't the correct lyrics to Stan either. The Eninem song says the clouds come up the window, not the sun. Why would it be all grey and hard to see if the sun came up the window?

Crowd surf the cow, people.

I want all those lyrics printed out in fancy calligraphy font. And ornately framed. And on my wall.

So that's Cowgate, in case anyone wants to know. But this is just stuff I've said before. I said I had a new detail, didn't I? Well here it is:

Who is that man, sat unobtrusively in the background, playing the percussion set? Of course we have no way of knowing, in such low quality video without any clear shots of his face. Or do we? Because here is a screenshot of Flight of the Conchords, sitting on that very cow, earlier in the same night! (We know it was the same night because it was taken from the montage of the whole night, which ended with a second angle on Cowgate.)

Am I wrong? I might be wrong, tell me if you think I'm wrong. But I think that's Jermaine Clement playing percussion back there. Based on the evidence that: He was there that night. He does play the drums. He's a bona fide member of the Chocolate Milk Gang. And he has the same vague outline and shirt colour as the guy in those screenshots. And he was in the background of the Kitson/DO'D battle rap video, playing guitar, so he does sometime play music to accompany other comedians doing weird shit at Late 'n' Live. My new detail is I think Jermaine Clement was on the stage during Cowgate.

It is cool, really. I mean, I'm obviously being vaguely ironic by treating this late-night comedy show stunt as a vitally important mysterious ritual. But I genuinely think that what happened there is fucking cool, if you look at all those people being on one stage doing something so stupid together, and then consider where they all went after that.

And if Jermaine Clement was there, that just adds to it. The variety and international breadth of all the different comedy careers all in one place just as they were on the cusp of taking off. I mean, by plenty of definitions some had taken off already, but they have all taken off significantly more since then. Almost as though on one night in 2003, they all sacrificed a cow to the gods of success and it worked. Of the main five people involved in the sacrifice rituals, there are three Perrier Awards (Kitson, DO'D, Demetri Martin - though to be fair two of those were won before Cowgate happened so I guess we can't attribute it to the sacrifice), an MBE (Hills), and a shitload of Emmys (Oliver). Which I think they should all bring in for the prize task of the Taskmaster episode that I imagine with those five as the contestants (it's okay, I think this is worth setting racial and gender representation on panel shows back by 20 years), the studio task is to take a cow apart, the winner gets all the trophies.

That's a lot of countries. The Australian Adam Hills, the British Daniel Kitson, the American Demetri Martin, the Irish David O'Doherty, the Kiwi Jermaine Clement, and the now-British/American John Oliver. All with wildly different types of careers. All, for different reasons, among my favourite comedians. I have seen or heard all of the official video or audio stand-up releases by all six of those people (and possibly 1 or 2 or several hundred or so unofficial ones as well). And not because of this video or anything, I sought them out because those are among my favourites and then they were all on stage doing this unhinged thing together.

It's the great mystery of my lifetime, I still want to know where the fuck they got that cow. And I'm genuinely annoyed that I won't be able to see the stage where it happened when I go to Edinburgh this year, but it's all right, I'll look at the outside.

If I ever get to meet any of these people, this is the first question I'm asking. No I don't need to know anything else about your career, just please tell me, what the fuck was going on with that fucking cow in 2003?

[petalsofyouth]

koi no yokan / part 1 | ran haitani x reader

tw: set in early 00s-10s, flawed characters, unreliable narrator, mentions of drug use, mentions of assault (nothing graphic) | i literally hate tagging so much because i feel like i missed something; anyways, if you think i really did tell me and i will include it.

wc: 18.516

author's note: i actually didn't want to post 'kny' on here and wanted my tumblr to be strictly for one-shots and drubbles, but now i haven't posted in so long & i desperately want to, so here we go.

~

part 1. 

The new place promised a new life with new memories and new friends and new basically everything. It was too much. It was suffocating to the point where your breathing wouldn’t even out and every next breath seemed not enough. You tried to calm yourself with your favourite cup of coffee and your read half through [page one hundred and thirty five] book. 

You brought a lot of books with you from your home. Them, all along with your other stuff still neatly packed in boxes had a faint smell of flowers. So mawkish it made you nauseous and despite heavy rain outside you wide opened every single window in your apartment. You wondered how you never noticed this (almost, not yet) stench back at home. 

At home everything smelled like this, because your father had a flower shop and your mom loved her enormous garden more than anything else. She spent hours outside. He was at work all day. You and your older sister were at home alone. 

You loved your family even though sometimes you wondered what was lacking. What was it that your heart was longing for. In all your years there you never found an answer to such an obvious question. Now, standing before a window wall, overlooking one of the many side streets of Roppongi in your late grandma’s apartment, you thought how amusing it was that when you escaped your native Obihiro you missed it so dearly. Do psychologists have a name for this feeling? As if knowing a name for something would provide you with shelter.  

A small rather inaudible sigh left your lips. You opened a balcony door smelling wet air. It will rain soon. Hopefully for hours and well into the night. But for now you will drink your homemade iced coffee and read your almost finished book. 

Because you are eighteen and it’s the end of March of 2006 and you will start lawyer school in less than two weeks and everything is so new and bright and sad at the same time. 

Being young is really truly overwhelming.

part 2. 

In the next two months you try to make new friends so you don’t feel that lonely. 

You go out with them a lot. To the cinema, to karaoke, to bowling, to their small apartments and huge mansions. Name it and you’ll be there. Just to feel a bit less lonely. Surrounded by people, with drink in your neatly manicured hands, you are almost a part of that raving crowd. 

Almost. 

It’s never enough and returning back to your own place that finally started indeed looking like your own place in the early morning when sky is pink and cold blue and your legs are so heavy you can barely stand is relieving. To the point you promise yourself it’s your last time going out. You would believe yourself, but then again you said the same thing last week and two weeks before that too. 

When friends don't magically appear after all these months you stop. You start attending all your classes, you read manga and books on your balcony, do homework and extra work to earn more credits. You cook and the smell of homemade food circulates the three storey building. Your neighbors must be mad at you because you usually play chef late at night. They either hate you or love you, you think. No complaints come though so you continue steering pots at three in the night. 

Your mom calls you twice every week. Your dad almost every day. Your sister never. She sends you messages instead. They are stupid and small. 

i am fine  (x_x)                                   (emojis she’s using never correlating with the text) 

it’s empty without you at home  

(/▿＼ ) 

found your stupid manga today & read it & why is this shit so sad. u r so depressing.  

i am fine  

[ ± _ ± ] 

don’t worry i won’t threw it out  

mom’s roses are withering she’s mad  

i am fine 

It’s never anything important so you reply the same nonsense back or sometimes nothing at all. You have a funny feeling you are missing out on something. You don’t catch what it is. 

You'll never do. 

part 3. 

Life in Tokyo is not easy, but it’s not that difficult either. You fall into a perfectly constructed routine quite quick, without any problem . 

You wake up. You make yourself your favourite iced coffee, throwing a little bit too much ice, and with a satisfaction you watch how ice melts, cracking under the warm hug of espresso. You drink your coffee on the balcony and then you go to university where you spend most of your day. 

In the evening you return home. You eat. You read or draw and then you go to bed. 

Somewhere in the middle of all these you find a friend. A true friend. She doesn’t go to parties and prefers to spend her free time in a coffee shop, walking around the park or reading a book. It sounds somewhat boring at first, but she’s a truly good person (and you haven't met a lot of those lately), so you succumb. 

She’s a Tokyo native which is insanely good, because she shows you a part of the city that was hidden from you all this time. Together you go to have the best ramen and yakitori and imagawayaki. You visit art galleries because you both are into the art and you both are lawyers to be, but you’d rather be an artist. You go to libraries and bookshops. You draw in the park together and at your apartment since she lives with parents and it’s more convenient to hang out at your place. 

Your new best friend is the one to warn you about gangs and all the criminal activity that is lurking in Tokyo’s darkest parts. It sounds more like a distant far away world that won’t ever touch you. You don’t feel frightened. After all you left it all at Obihiro with your sister and her stupid ex boyfriend who too was a part of the local gang. 

Didn’t you?

The calm voice of your friend continues naming all the gangs and then she fills you in on what they do and what territories they control and how exactly they do it. It’s crazy to think she knows that much about it. Especially for a future lawyer.  

You tell her just that. 

She smiles and says that her eldest brother is in the gang hence she knows so much. His gang is cool though. They don’t beat women or children. They challenge other gangs and they do try to be fair to everyone and everything. They are good guys. 

The way she talks about them you might think they are Robin hoods of Tokyo. 

You know for a fact it’s (probably, you have your doubts) not true. 

part 4. 

It is early in the morning when you wake up one day in July. It’s scorching hot and gladly you have no school today so you spend half of the morning in bed staring at white ceiling. Thinking about nothing. It’s an easy morning and you appreciate the calm - though very very hot - air that surrounds you. 

Laying around in bed proves nothing. It’s boring and soon your thoughts get too complicated. Too difficult. And if anything you don’t want today to be difficult.

It’s gotta be a nice day.  

That much is decided, when you slowly rise from the bed, fall on it again, lay there for two minutes listening to the clock doing its little, but loud tik-tak-tik-tak dance. Eventually you get up and stretching midway march into the bathroom. 

Bathroom is like a cold oasis in the desert. Your feet touching cool marble tiles, you cross a small room aiming towards a rather spacious but square form bathtub. Why and how your late grandma chose this ridiculous design is now history. You regret you never asked. 

After taking a long bath, you throw a towel around yourself and go to the kitchen. To make yourself a cup of iced coffee, of course. You don’t do breakfasts and now it’s well past the time people eat their gohan, natto and whatever else they have for their first meal of the day. You’ll cook something a little bit later. Or call your friend and go out to that now favourite place to have sushi. 

Summer breeze is gentle on your naked shoulders when you sit down on the balcony. The view is not much. Just another grey living building with luxury cars in the parking lot. Roppongi is surely different from your native Obihiro. Well, it’s even different from Tokyo itself. The contrast is subtle and you can’t tell what it is exactly, but it’s there. Present as ever. 

You love Roppongi.  

The quiet alone time ends suddenly. You hear something tearing and then a caustic smell of vinegar welcomes itself in the air. You groan. Loudly. Trying to guess what it is you stand up from your bamboo chair and look around as if it could reveal the sudden intruder. The unexpected intruder reveals himself. 

“Oi! It’s chips.” The voice comes from your left and you look that way seeing nothing, but a plastic beige partition. You never noticed it being there before. 

“How did…” You start, tilting your head so you could see the owner of the voice - he sounds young and you are quite curious because for all the months you live here you never knew you had someone your age living in your building. To be frank, you only met the old lady upstairs, but that’s because she was your late grandma’s friend and introduced herself first when you just moved in. 

“You make a lot of noise.” He stops, mulling something over and you can almost hear thoughts being born in his head. Instead, he snickers and says nothing. 

The barrier between your balcony’s space and his is nonexistent. The only thing dividing you two is that plastic beige partition which you easily look over from, steadying yourself on steel railings with one hand (the other one is holding the towel wrapped around your body) and furiously peer at your neighbour.  

You totally never saw him before because you have a feeling that you would have noticed and remembered him. He is quite a character.

Blond hair with almost neon blue highlights is what you see first. Then his glasses that cover his peculiar coloured eyes. From the distance you can’t quite tell what colour they are, but it’s not brown, hazel or blue. It’s some other colour or maybe it’s the mix of all of them. They catch your attention the most. Until, your gaze travels south, to his chest full of tattoos. He is not wearing any t-shirt; fair enough it’s too hot and he is home. 

Being too busy observing him you don’t notice him squinting his eyes and giving you almost the same identical look. The difference was though that he has seen you before. A lot of times actually. Now, he was just getting a better look. 

“Salt and vinegar? Really?” 

“Wanna some?” He offers you to which you wrinkle your nose and he snorts at you. 

It’s more of a laugh than anything else so you don’t even register it. You don’t reply and get back to your chair in the safety of your own balcony. The whole situation seems ridiculous but the more you think about it - sitting some metres away from him hearing him eating his chips - the more it feels like it was supposed to be like this. 

It’s your first time feeling something like this. 

It’s deviating. 

part 5. 

After this encounter you see him everywhere. 

On the flight of stairs. At the convenience store next to your house. In the parking lot under your building. You even bump into him on Keyakizaka street and once catch a glimpse of him at Roppongi Station. 

It’s not unusual. You are neighbours. It should feel normal, but it doesn’t. It’s almost like he follows you around prying into your daily life. You know it’s not true because he doesn’t have a reason for it. Well, he doesn’t even know your name. Maybe it’s just fate that wants you two together. 

Most of all, you meet on your joined balcony. He’s quietly eating his salt & vinegar chips while you read or paint. Sometimes he listens to his music. He does it wearing huge white Audio-Technica headphones. He blasts music at full volume and after some time you memorise his playlist. You must admit it. He’s got a nice taste in music. 

You say it to him once and when he replies you can hear an easy smile intertwining with his words. “No shit. I wanna be a DJ. I do have a full DJ setup, it’s just that I rarely use it nowadays.” 

“Why?” 

It’s a simple logical question, but he doesn’t answer right away. Silence settles between you two and soon the only sound you can hear is that old lady on the floor above speaking to her husband. She asks him what he wants for dinner. It somehow reminds you of your home in Obihiro and swarms of cicadas rise in front of your eyes. Their сhirping fills your ears. The sound of home and summer. 

The 2B pencil in your hand moves on its own while you wait for him to say something. It’s only after you sketch your yard full of cicadas on the pavement he finally speaks. 

“Just being busy with work and Ran doesn’t like it when it’s too loud and my music is too loud for him”. 

“Ran?” 

He waits again before responding. This time it’s shorter. You don’t manage to draw anything. “My older brother.” 

“He has a pretty name and I agree with him. Your music's too loud. I can hear it through your headphones all the time.” 

“It suits him. His name.” He ignores you siding with his brother and doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being teased by you. “Mine though doesn’t suit me. Do I look like a Rindou to you?” 

You laugh. He laughs too in a i told you so way. He doesn’t see you drawing gentian and orchid in the left corner of your sketch. 

You also think his name suits him well. 

part 6. 

When Rindou meets you outside he always acknowledges you in one way or another. 

It depends if he is alone or has company. 

If he is alone he’d chat you up, asking you meaningless questions about your day. If he is with someone he’d just nod at you. 

You don’t dwell on the subject. You don’t think he might be embarrassed of knowing you or some stupid shit like this. It doesn’t hurt your pride because you don’t know him that well after all. Besides your occasional balcony conversation you have nothing. You are barely even friends. 

He doesn’t know your name. He never asked. At this point you are almost strangers. 

part 7.

Your life carries on. 

You attend classes, go out with your best friend, read books, draw and chat with Rindou. Over time you two become more accustomed to each other. Conversations turn effortless. Personal information shifts to shared. Neither of you mind it. Oversharing and spilling secrets doesn’t exist in your comfortable bubble in the middle of Roppongi. 

Rindou is cosy. 

No matter how close you two grow to each other, you (not him too, but you don’t know it) tell your friends about your little friendship. A grim feeling of inevitable stops you every time you try to tell your best friend about him, his blue locks and round glasses. If you tell her something bad will happen. What you can’t tell. This ominous prediction follows you around. Never leaving. You keep your mouth shut. If anything, you don’t want to ruin your nook. 

He, on the other hand, doesn’t tell anyone because they won’t understand his desire to feel like a normal person for once in his life. He never mentions to you that he is in a gang. What he is doing with his brother and friends at night. He never shows you just how violent he can get and this side of him is hidden from you. Rindou likes it this way. This way you are friends with him because he likes vinegar & salt chips, wants to be a DJ and goes to gym every once in a while. 

You are not afraid of him and you do not pretend. 

He wants to keep it that way. 

So he, just like you, keeps you away from his world. 

By the end of the summer he learns your name. 

part 8.

Despite all your accidental meetings you’ve never bumped into Rindou when he was with his older brother. Despite that, you feel like you know him already. 

Rindou talks a lot about Ran. As it supposed to be, you assume. 

You don’t talk about your older sister that much though. 

You wonder if Rindou wonders why. 

However it may be, he never asks you about that.  

“Ran is a pain in the ass.” Says Rindou looking at the small screen of his Nokia 6230. He shoves white phone - every piece of technology he owns appears to be white and you want to ask if it is consciously done - in the pocket of his wide black sweatpants. “He is staying out today”. 

The intonation and tone he chooses are suggestive to where his brother might be staying and what he plans on doing. You laugh and don’t press too much. It’s not your business and you are not interested in how Ran spends his leisure time. 

“At least he could’ve told me earlier. Kakucho invited me to go to Atami, but he is already on his way and I don’t wanna go on my own all the way there. It’s what…  like two hours? Three?” 

He says all that in front of the convenience store where you both met some minutes ago. It’s well after six in the afternoon and street lamps are barely emitting any power yet. Soon the streets would be draped in these nostalgic azure lights and the whole Roppongi would come alive while other parts of Tokyo would slowly fall to sleep. 

There are no people outside and no cars pass by you two. Your small nook is silent. Even the ventilators of refrigerators at convenience store stopped producing noise. The next thing you know it’s raining. A little drizzle. You sigh. “Wanna come over? I’ll cook.” 

“Real homemade food?” 

“Yeah. What a stupid question.” 

He smiles a bit, thinking to himself that, well, maybe missing out on hot springs in Atami wouldn’t be so bad. He knows for a fact nor Ran nor Kakucho would eat anything smelling so delicious like your food. For a bunch of delinquents without family a plate of soup made specifically for them is a huge deal. 

Of course, he doesn’t say any of these. He shrugs, his shoulders going up and down, and takes a huge paper bag with groceries out of your arms. 

Together you walk towards your apartment building. 

part 9. 

You didn’t make soup that evening. 

In the role of the guest Rindou took it upon himself to decide what you both should have for dinner. As you guessed before he wasn’t a shy type so feel yourself at home words died on the tip of your tongue the second he took his adidas sneakers off and went ahead of you to the kitchen. Strangely enough he went in the right direction. Maybe the layout of your apartments were the same. You were neighbours after all.  

When you showed up in the kitchen, dressed in your for home shorts and your dad’s old t-shirt, he already stuck up everything you bought earlier in their places and was now patiently waiting for you, playing snake on his phone.

“I think you can make us soba with vegetables. And some chicken too, but I like it without skin”. He said, not raising his head in your direction. He appeared strangely familiar in your kitchen. As if he was there every day. 

You nodded, not sure if he was paying any attention to you at all. “I have chicken breasts. Do you prefer enoki or shiitake?”

“Put both. I like both.” 

Cooking is not a quick business. Rindo grew bored of watching you doing the same thing with different products and took it upon himself to tour your apartment alone. You didn’t mind. You had nothing to hide. Your paintings, mangas and books were all there was. Doubtful it would be of any interest to him you didn’t worry. 

To Rindou it was different. He felt like he was intruding your personal life. Probing himself to become a part of it. If not that accidental meeting and Ran’s spontaneous decision to stay god knows where he wouldn’t be here at all. Looking at your canvases with unfinished paintings woke inside of him a dreadful feeling of unbearable closeness to you. 

In all his life he never befriended anyone. All people came and went out as they pleased. Nobody stayed for long. He didn’t give them a reason either and not a single person asked for it. 

Nobody made an effort to stay.  

Looking at your pencil sketch of the valley full of gentians he already knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if you went away too. 

part 10. 

“I was in a juvie with Ran”. The confession comes out of him suddenly. He looks you in the face trying to decipher your reaction. There’s none that he could pinpoint. “We got out recently.” He adds as an attempt to fill the silence that lingers around the corner. 

You put chopsticks aside and pressing your lips into thin line attempt to guess the motive behind his words. 

Why did he say this now? 

What is the reason? 

Why did he decide to open up now that you having a quiet dinner at your apartment?

You find all the answers in his eyes. They are like amethyst. Blue and pink mixed together in a beautiful peculiar shade that suits Rindou just a little too much. They are intent and pleading. He has decided something for himself while you were busy cooking and what it is he doesn’t let you know yet, but you sure it has something to do with your hasty friendship. 

“Why?” 

“We beat up the leader of the gang and his vice to take over Roppongi. The vice didn’t make it out alive. Ran might have gone overboard a bit.” 

“So it was an accident?” Your words are not of justification, but about stating the truth. 

“Pretty much, but I don’t regret him dying.” He waits a moment and then adds. “If I knew the outcome before I would’ve done the same thing”. 

The silence that settles between you two is heavy, but not uncomfortable. It changes the inevitable course of your relationship and you both let it do it. Whatever said is said. There is no turning back. 

You avert your gaze to the steaming food in front of you and take a deep breath before saying what you want to say. Rindou gets ahead of you interrupting what yet to be said. “Do you think differently of me now that you know it?” 

“No.” Your response is immediate. No delays. No hesitation. “Still the same Rindou as before. Some of us have to do fucked up things to survive.” 

“Did you kill someone?” 

Your laugh fills the room and cracks in his heart that were there because of worry. He is ridiculous, he knows it. 

But it’s easy to be ridiculous with you. 

part 11. 

In the month to come you learn more about Rindou Haitani. 

He and his brother are in the gang, but they are by themselves. They rule over Roppongi alone and every single person there is theirs. [This is said in a proud voice and when you ask if you are theirs too since you too now live in Roppongi Rindou goes red. It’s cute.] Their parents are not with them. If they are dead or alive, if they were forced to leave them or abandoned them out of their free will, Rindou doesn’t elaborate. The wound might be still too fresh or maybe it would never heal at all. 

After every bit of information he asks you if you are still seeing him the same way. You always say yes. 

You open up to him too. You tell him more about Obihiro. Your parents that are married and that there’s no love in that marriage anymore. That you believe your dad has a mistress and that your mother knows and that this is a reason she is so attached to her garden full of roses. She tends to flowers and loves them in a way she can’t care and love her husband. 

One evening when Rindou stops by your apartment and sits on the bar stool watching you cook chicken katsu you tell him about your sister. How she got involved with a guy who was in a local gang and that your parents blame him for her drug addiction. It’s a touchy subject and he is the first person you ever discussed this with. 

“You don’t think he is to blame?” He asks in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. 

“No. I think my sister knew better than this. She was her own person before she met him and after she met him. You can’t blame somebody for a decision you solely made.” 

Rindou senses your anger. He thinks [knows] you’ve never been in love. 

part 12. 

It’s November when you are introduced to Ran. 

By this time he’s heard about you [and you yourself albeit muffled by thick glass of balcony door] numerous times. The occasion to meet you never presented itself. Even though it would be a lie from his side if he says he wasn’t dying to meet you. His interest was as high as Fugaku. Not because of you as of you, - he didn’t know you and he’s hardly a curious person - but because of his brother’s soft demeanour and lack of usual disdain he presents around other people. Never you. 

It nags Ran more than he would care to admit. 

The absence of interest in him from your part was a bit suspicious. It depended on what Rindou had told you about him so it might be just his brother's fault and not your mere disregardless of Ran. Who in their right mind would purposely ignore him? 

Their cupboard where they store instant noodles are empty and Ran groans when his palm touches the dusty wood surface. He is tired. And sleep deprived. Too many responsibilities weighed  heavy on his shoulders. Last night he returned home around five in the morning and went immediately to bed. His only meal of the day was tuna onigiri he bought at 7/11. It tasted sloppy and rice was not cooked the way he liked it to be cooked. He complained about it all to Rindou who just clattered. To him, onigiri seemed fine. Not the best he had and certainly not worthy to whine about the whole night. 

Ran was just being Ran. Now he was starving. His empty stomach churning. 

“What did you eat today?” He turned around and suspiciously eyed Rindou who was sitting back to him on their newly bought white sofa watching TV. The show running there was unfamiliar to Ran. 

“Rice, two eggs and plum pickles.” 

The last time Ran had plum pickles happened a long time ago he couldn’t even remember when exactly, less alone the taste. His mouth watered all the same. The non-bothered expression [he could sense even while looking at Rindou’s nape] on his brother's face only added to his starving agony. “You went out?” 

“No. Well… technically yes, but not really.” 

Whatever the meaning of Rindou’s answer, Ran doesn’t catch it. He thinks of asking for an explanation, but senses Rin furrowing. Too focused on the jumping screen of the TV. His whole attention focused on a documentary about wildlife of South America. Ran’s mouth sprawls into an oh-i-know-what-you-are-thinking-of-now sly smile when he goes around and catches Rin bite his lower lip. It makes Ran forget about his minor problems. For the next couple of minutes if so. 

Teasing his little brother about his new female friend is more important. And fun. 

“Why are you being so defensive when it comes to our new neighbour?” 

The question is simple, but the devious tone it's being asked suggests it’s more than this. Rin wants to punch his brother, but instead he sighs. He can’t understand why he is being so protective over you too.

“I am not fucking being defensive. It’s your way of asking about her that makes me angry.” 

“My way of asking?” 

“Yes. It’s like you wanna ask me if we fuck or not?” 

“Do you?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Ran. No. She’s just a friend.” Rindou rises from the sofa and storms off to his room. He doesn’t forget to slam the door so Ran understands the level of the anger he feels towards him now. 

He does. 

So, Ran sprawls on the white sofa. Pillows here are so fluffy he might fall asleep for an hour or so. After he wakes up he’ll knock at Rindou’s door and together they will go to the convenience store. Rindou won’t be angry anymore. He’ll whine and complain and maybe won’t speak with Ran for fifteen minutes or so, but eventually he’ll put the whole conversation about you aside. 

After all they are brothers and Rindou can’t stay mad at Ran for long. 

It goes the same for Ran too. 

part 13. 

When Rindou warned you about the dark alleys of Roppongi you should’ve listened to him. 

But as all people, you too, you believe you are invincible. You believe it won’t happen today or with you. Anybody, but you. 

When you go out that night to meet your best friend at Kagurazaka, there’s not a slightest worry in your bones. You chat freely, drink two cocktails on an almost empty stomach - your impromptu dinner with Rindou happened around four and now it was approaching midnight - and politely decline your friend’s invitation to stay over. She doesn’t live nearby, but her house is relatively closer than yours. It doesn’t matter to you. 

You want to go home. 

You catch the last train. It’s empty. The night is clear and beautiful. The glimmering lights of Tokyo are more than mesmerising. They are surreal. Nothing around you suddenly is real. You have an urge to draw the scenery. You dig into your bag, but there’s no pencil there nor there’s a piece of paper. It's almost like a lost chance, but instead of giving up, you memorise the view. How houses look, their lights, neon banners and small nooks. 

High on Tokyo you arrive at Roppongi station. With a picture before your eyes you don’t notice three young men following you home. If you would, you probably would’ve thought better than cutting your way home and instead would've chose the main road. But you don’t and they feel incredibly lucky.

A beautiful girl and a purse with money. 

Firstly, they yank your bag and when you don’t give it up easily they push you hard to the ground. You fall on the wet pavement utterly confused. Sharp pain goes through your ribs. You try to stand up, not hearing their mocking laughs and your keys falling to the ground. 

It should be humiliating, but you don’t feel humiliated at all. Not even when the hands of one of them goes under your dress. It’s cold and wet and your body starts shaking with anger. You are silent when your first crashes onto his face. The stench of blood is suffocating and the skin on your knuckles brakes with a loud thud. 

You doubt they hear it or care about it because one of them slaps you across your face. Your nose bleeds and blood plops down. It brings a salty taste to your mouth. It covers your collarbones and stains your dress. At this moment you know that there’s nothing you can do and that it is better to give up so you run to the convenience store. It’s two blocks away and there’s always a cashier inside. They won't dare to do anything in somebody’s presence won’t they? 

It’s a fact that those who attacked you are cowards. Nobody else, but a coward would attack a girl in a dress returning home. 

part 14. 

Rindou sees you first. 

He is without glasses - forgot them somewhere between arguing with Ran and forgetting to grab keys from their apartment - but he can clearly see the blood on your face and clothes. He drops the iced peach tea bottle and storms off past confused Ran. 

It’s too late for Halloween parties and he knows you well enough to know that this is not some trickery. It’s the real blood coating very real you. He puts his palms on your shoulders, you are stiff underneath him, but you don’t cry and he takes this as a good sign. “What happened?” 

“They…” You stutter, confused expression on your face, you don’t look at him, but between your bodies, at his nike shoes. They are white. As expected. You don’t want to stigmatise them red. “Somebody just attacked me. Three of them.” 

“Who and where?” The voice is unfamiliar. He sounds similar to Rindou’s, but is more high and persuasive. Rindou never speaks like that. It might be somebody else. 

This somebody else lingers behind his brother. His gaze never leaves your face and despite the situation he finds you very beautiful. There’s something about you that knocks him off immediately and when you raise your eyes at him he knows he is doomed. 

Ran being Ran he shows none of it. Neither do you. 

“Down the street to the left then again to the left and then to the right.” You explain, ignoring the intensifying grip of Rindou’s fingers clawing at your shoulder blades. “There were three of them.” 

Ran flashes you a smile. It’s genuine and you are confused at what exactly is here to smile. “Rin take her home. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Do you have it with you?”   

Ran smirks. He follows the directions you gave him and disappears under the blue lights of lamps. 

Not without showing his baton to worried Rindou. He makes a whole show of it, taking the weapon out of his sweats’ pocket and raising it up so it is visible. He doesn’t turn to look at you to see if you are watching him. He knows you both do. 

part 15. 

It’s your first time being inside their apartment, but no matter how much you want to tour it, Rindou shows you into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you pass a small dressing room to get inside wondering why there’s a sink in it, but you don’t get to ask because Rindo tells you to wait a second. 

He brings you a change of fresh clothes. It’s black sweats and a grey oversized t-shirt. You want to ask to whom they belong, but somehow you understand they are Rindou’s. He wouldn’t just pass his brother’s clothes like this. 

Before getting into the bathtub you examine your body. There are bruises on the left side that mark your skin from where your breasts are and all the way down to your leg. It’s almost like Rindou’s tattoo. You smirk and try not to move much, because once you see the damage it starts to hurt as if your brain only detects what can be seen. Fucking fascinating. 

The door to the bathroom is not locked. You remember it when the first drops of hot water fall onto your aching body. You doubt Rindou or his brother would barge in though so you aren’t worried. Methodically, you wash your face, clean your scraped knee and watch blood mixed with water disappear through the drain. Once again everything feels out of place. Your blood, your black painted toenails, scratches and bruises it feels like they aren’t you. Like they aren’t yours. But the hurt reminds you very vividly that this is simply not true. It’s all you. 

What happened today happened to you. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You look around yourself searching for the soap or something else that will scrap this day off you. On the white plastic shelf you notice two soaps, one shower gel and god knows how many hair products. There’s no way to tell what belongs to whom so you take whatever smells better to you. 

Inside your head it’s silent. No replaying of the events. Nothing. It’s not that you do that deliberately. You are not sure you possess that kind of will. It’s extremely hard to choose what you want to think about. Thoughts are not like trains. You don’t get to miss some and then hop on the next, because you like it better. You’ll board every single one and live it thoroughly. 

Want it or not. 

“Did they smack you in the face?” 

It’s the first thing Rindou asks when you emerge from the bathroom. He observes you carefully from the bar stool. Better than anybody else he knows what it’s like to deal with strong emotions and unpleasant situations. He is surprised though when you roll your eyes at him and laugh. Shouldn’t you be crying? Or is it that bad you numbed yourself? The sudden alert in his eyes sells you to him. 

“They did. And they also pushed me to the ground. I have a huge bruise right here.” You show him where, pointing your hand from breasts to your leg. “Nothing to worry about though.” 

He doesn’t understand why you are trying to comfort him when it should be the other way. He sighs. “Get on the sofa I’ll bring you an ice pack and this cream Ran got at the pharmacy the other day. Works like fucking magic. It’ll stop swelling and the colour won’t be so bad.” 

You don’t ask him why they have this cream or so many other medicines. It’s pointless. It's common knowledge to you now what they are doing. You sit on the sofa where earlier today Ran took a short nap before he and Rindou went to the convenience store. Just at the right time to meet you. Coincidence or not you are really grateful you saw them there. You tell it to Rindou. 

He shrugs. A small smile breaks out on his lips and he sits next to you handing you ice wrapped in two towels. “You would’ve come to me anyway. Even if we weren’t there. Right?” 

“Probably yes. I dropped my keys and the trains stopped by now.” You put ice on your face. Gently. It hurts nonetheless. 

“Probably.” He mocks you. And then silence feigns over you as he spreads cream for bruising between his palms. 

It’s an unusual silence full of words and noise. Neither of you disturbs it. Each listening and hearing what they need to. You take this as a chance to observe the living room and small bits of kitchen. It’s behind you so you don’t turn and look at it afraid Rindou might find it noisey. He obviously wouldn’t. 

“Is this your DJ booth?” You ask pointing at a huge table with what looks like a small laptop, DJ’s setups and so many other things you don’t know the proper name of. “I’ve never heard you using it. I bet you can hear it from my apartment”. 

He turns around looking at and you find his gaze amusing. He looks at it like a man in love. Then an annoyed expression where his blonde eyebrows are furrowed and lips shut tight grace his features. “It’s because Ran is not allowing me to bring my friends home. Says we are too loud. He only likes it when Kakucho or Sanzu are here. He is not even letting me bring girls home. Says there are love hotels across Tokyo for a reason.” You laugh and your laugh is contagious because in a couple of minutes Rindou laughs too. It is rare to hear him laugh so wholeheartedly. He is usually most reserved and tries to keep everything to himself. You always wondered if it has to do something with how he was raised and how his older brother affected him? Keeping emotions stocked up inside yourself isn’t a biggie. The problem starts when they are too much and with them you too are getting too much. 

To Rindou a way to loosen up and let go is a fight. You suspect just as much, but he never says it out loud. It’s an awful thing to say, he believes. 

“Do you mind lifting your shirt up a bit? I warmed the cream for you.” 

You do as he asks. 

The situation would’ve been awkward would it be insinuated under different circumstances, but neither of you twists the meaning of what he is doing. He just tends to your wounds. In a very moderate and tame way. This is how you learn that despite his harshness and violent commitments, Rindou is a very kind - soft-hearted for his people even - person. It’s a shame you think of him like this only now when he was being like this all the time. 

When everything is set and done, Rindou brings you a pillow and a patched velvet blanket. The blanket looks out of his style. All bright with knitted flowers it’s like a white spot was placed on Malevich’s “Black Square”. You realise, there are a lot of details and things you don’t know about him. Today’s events, however damaging they are, bring you closer to each other. Another milestone. And you finally met his brother. 

Speaking of whom. 

“Would your brother be okay?” 

Your sudden question takes him by surprise. He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on the stove. He intends to make a green tea for both of you. It will help him calm his nerves down and hopefully ease your headache and stress. The wave of it still hadn’t hit you. It is always the same for most people going through traumatic events. We all postpone the inevitable, bottle up emotions inside us, and on the second day or third week - it doesn't really matter when - do we accept that whatever we went through was real and valid. It happened and we need to live it through one more time before we let it go. 

For some people, like Rindou, it never goes away. It builds him. It becomes one with him. 

He hopes it won't happen to you. 

He hopes you eventually forget all about it. 

“Yeah. He is Ran Haitani.” You are yet to comprehend the meaning of the weight Haitani surname carries around Tokyo. Gangs, criminals, delinquents and their world is still uncrossed territory. Whatever you know you know from Rindou and your best friend. Both don’t say much. “Those who attacked you, did they want something else from you too? Did they try to do anything?” 

Rindou settles a hot water pot and two cups on the table in front of you. Inside the cups there is dried tea. It smells delicious. Calming and reassuring. 

“No. Even if they wanted to, I ran away before they could.” You lie. The print of the hand of the other man on your thigh is one of the few things you could recall. “By the way, these shower gel and shampoo you have, they smell amazing. I’ll buy the same.” 

Squinting his eyes, he leans towards you and putting his hand on your head brings it closer to him so he can smell it. “I swear… Don’t tell Ran about it. He is already more cocky than he should be.” He sits back, relaxing on a plush sofa. “Mine is good too. It’s like a…” 

“Like a mint.” You tease him. 

He scowls. “Drink your tea and try to get some sleep.” 

You bite another smile to yourself and do as he says. 

Before you fall asleep you see those mesmerising lights of Tokyo. 

You remind yourself to draw them. 

part 16. 

You and Rindou fall asleep before Ran comes home. 

It’s almost dawn. The sky is shrugging off the black of the night and dresses in pretty pink, yellow and baby blue. In the city, one needs to go somewhere high to meet the sunrise or sunset. In Tokyo there are numerous locations for city viewing that usually attracts tourists. Because of that Ran hasn’t been to any of them. He thinks, going out for stargazing or to watch sunset or sunrise is stupid, anyway. He prefers to stay in and sleep. 

He doesn’t like to be up all night either, but now, returning home he looks up at the sky and for the first time in his life, he might agree he was wrong. It’s gor-ge-ous. 

The baton in his right hand is stained with blood. At first when he arrived at the alley where you were supposedly assaulted he got disappointed. No one was there. Drops of blood and your keys along with other stuff like lip balm, spiral hair tie and empty wallet with discount cards and coupons proved to him that he has not been mistaken. It was exactly where everything happened. Just no one was there anymore. 

Carefully he picked everything up, checking twice, just so he didn’t miss something. Then, Ran called Sanzu. If you ever need to find someone, Sanzu is your choice. 

He and Sanzu found them in an hour. They begged for forgiveness, but Ran was so tired and Sanzu was already so high. Nothing they could’ve said would be of any help. By the end of it all, they gave all the money they took from you and even more. Ran made sure they apologised enough. Pity, you were too far away to hear.

Now, the solemn apartment greets him with background noise only TV could make and Rindou’s soft snoring. Ran takes his shoes off, neatly puts them in the shoe box, places your bag on top of it and goes straight to the bathroom. It reeks of blood and his shampoo. On the tile floor lays your bloody dress. It’s pretty and stylish. Not too girly in his opinion and he likes it, but thinks you chose just the worst day to wear a beige short dress. 

He lifts your dress and throws it in the basket where they store their dirty clothes. Doing so has a strange feeling to it. It shouldn’t be that natural. He should be weirded out by your presence in his sanctuary where he is at his most vulnerable and he knows you are here because he feels tiny little needles poking at his body. 

Maybe he is just tired. 

Or maybe - and Ran is sure it is the real reason - there was something so gut wrenching sweet about your face covered in blood under the neon sign of a convenience store, it was all he could think of since. 

The immediate attraction he sensed towards you was now giving him hard times. You were Rindou’s friend. No. You were a very good friend of Rindou and while Ran couldn’t know if his brother liked you - like liked liked you - he could clearly tell that he cared about you so much he didn’t want you to meet Ran. 

He fills the bathtub and slides into hot water. His skin is burning but it is a pleasant feeling. From the bathroom he can’t hear if he woken you or Rindou and he hopes he didn’t. He doesn’t have any energy to talk or look presentable or do anything really. What he desires is to fall asleep right here in the bathroom in warm hugs of water. He wishes someone could hug his tired brain the same way. 

On his way to his room he can see the glimpse of you. He stops. It’s funny how you sleep where he slept not so long ago today and just now he was taking a bath where you had been taking it. Too, not so long ago.

He shakes his head.  

Sometimes he thinks about the weirdest shit. 

It’s crazy. 

part 17.  

Rindou wakes up first. He lets you sleep well past afternoon and when you open your eyes and emerge in his room he gives you back your bag and keys to your apartment. 

He says he can’t find your dress anywhere. 

He asks how you feel. 

“I feel like my body was put through a meat grinder.” You shrug. “Other than that it’s fine. I am gonna go home now and prepare something to eat. You and your brother are welcome to crash at my place later.” 

“Ran would appreciate it.” 

You nod at him. With a bag in your hands you go home. 

part 18. 

It’s peculiar how yesterday evening another you was going out of your apartment and now this different version of you crosses threshold again like it’s nothing. You hang your key by the screw near the door, you take your shoes off, sit your bag on the backless stool right by the entrance and go inside. 

You don’t lock your door. You doubt bad luck would strike you twice. And to be honest after what happened you don’t feel afraid at all. [Not that you were before.]

The image of night Tokyo is still in front of your eyes and it jumps in your heart alive demanding to be painted right this second. It’s very difficult to tame your creative urges, but you do your best and go straight to your bathroom. To shower and see how much bruising has progressed. 

In the pale white light, with purple splotches and scratches your body looks different. It’s you and at the same time it’s not. You observe your reflection closely trying not to miss any detail. You want to remember this version of you. Harmed, but not beaten. But all there is is a strong sense of alienation. You lift your right arm up and the person in front of you does the same. You do the same with your left arm, then you stand on your tiptoes and then you jump and then you turn turn turn until your head feels fuzzy and you fall to the ground. 

Afraid, you sneak a glance at the mirror. What would you do if there’s a person in the reflection? The mirror is clean. There is nothing that shouldn’t be there. 

You let out a breath. 

Everything is good. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

part 19. 

The washing machine is half way through its programme when there's a knock at your door. 

“Oi. Why didn’t you lock your door?” It’s Rindou. You can hear him taking his shoes off and making his way to the kitchen. By now he knows your apartment like the back of his hand. “You should be more careful.”

You shake your head, disapproving. “I doubt someone would break into my apartment.” In your hands you form a ball of rice. Large handful. Your already made onigiri lined up on the kitchen table look perfect to Rindou. You however see every bit of essential rice poking out. You sigh and add. “Besides, what would they find here? My canvases? My pastels? My collection of coloured pencils? I don’t even own a TV.” 

“You.” He deadpans, stealing a mouthful of shredded tuna mixed with mayo. “Just lock your door. That’s all. Two fillings? Is this one salmon teriyaki?” The spoon he found in tuna goes all the way to the - indeed - salmon with teriyaki sauce and spring onions. He doesn't bat an eye that he is doing something wrong when he puts the spoon back. Instead he looks around. Almost anxiously. He raises up from the table and goes all the way to the pots sitting on the stove. WIth one swift motion he lifts lids and checks what’s inside. He gasps. “Did you make rice with eggs and spam? It’s Ran’s comfort food. He would eat anything now though. He hasn’t had a proper meal in days.” 

“He doesn’t seem like a person who would skip a meal.” You mumble, contemplating between taking a new spoon or continue using the one Rindou had so nonchalantly put in his mouth, devouring onigiri fillings. 

“I said a proper meal. He was surviving on ready-to-gos.” 

“Still better than salt and vinegar chips, I guess.” You shoot him a teasing smile which he warmly accepts with a mocking scowl. 

You choose not to change the spoon. 

While you continue to prepare dinner Rindou disappears somewhere inside your apartment. Judging by his heavy loud footsteps he is in your bedroom. 

There is only one thing he could do there and it’s checking your sketchbook. Earlier today after the quick shower and getting laundry set up you sat down on your bed wrapped in a large towel that felt like a cloud and drew for an hour. Creativity, that art provided you, eased your mind. Soon enough the ache in your mind and body started to fade. In that urban drawing you were sketching, events of yesterday never happened. There, you were never assaulted. You were still on the train going from Kagurazaka to Roppongi. Thinking about nothing and feeling everything. 

There, you still haven’t met Ran. 

Why you think of him at that moment is confusing. There is no logic behind it. Something somewhere inside of you just brought his being out. Thinking about it, you didn’t even have a chance to properly introduce yourself to each other. You never planned on meeting him so you never thought about how it would go, but still there’s a hint of disappointment that the first time he saw you, you were covered in blood. 

The painting in your lap is unfinished. It’s half way through. Or even less. Urban sketches demand a lot of time because of all the tiny details they consist of. Pursing your lips, you look at the drawing, not sure if you like it or want to rip it apart. Abrupt throw - which is Ran Haitani - halt the whole process to an end. You won’t draw a single line today. That much you understand. 

Now, sitting on your bed, gazing at your sketchbook, Rindou for whatever reason it may be recognizes not the Tokyo or its lights or its small alleys, but his older brother. Yes, it’s buildings. Yes, it’s street lamps. Yes, it’s hundreds of windows and lanterns of the small alley where in the morning merchants will sell fresh fish, vegetables and street-food. And yet, all he sees is Ran. It’s so evident it knocks him off. He almost has trouble breathing and he so wants to ask you if you did it deliberately. Knowing what you are doing and still doing it on purpose. 

He is afraid you might find it stupid because it’s a landscape. And more than anything Rindou doesn’t like to put himself in a situation where someone would think he is stupid. He hates the feeling. 

Silently, he closes your sketchbook and places it on your nightstand where he notices a manga. It’s the second volume of “Kagen no Tsuki” by Ai Yazawa. He grabs it and brings it with him to the kitchen where he sits across from you. You are still making onigiri. 

“Don’t read it. It’s a really sad story. I cried for days. And every time I reread it, I still cry like the first time.” You warned him noticing the manga in his hands. “I am almost done. Will your brother come soon or do you wanna go fetch him? The food will go cold.” 

The reminder of Ran coming from your mouth unsettles him. There is no reason for him to feel this way, but he still does. He clenches the book so much his knuckles go white. If you notice you don’t say anything. “Why do you keep reading it time after time if it’s sad and makes you cry?” 

“I guess I love sad stories.” You say simply, licking your lips after. You finish the last onigiri, put it on the plate and rise from the chair. Your body aches, but you stretch anyway. “And it’s Ai Yazawa, Rindou. You can’t help, but return to her stories.”  All of a sudden, a thought that you would never find him stupid, flashes through his mind and eventually he relaxes. 

The book slips from his grip. 

part 20. 

Ran is wearing a dark grey loose knitted sweater - it has the same colour as pavement outside your building - and a pair of baggy black sweats. His hair is tied into two neatly done braids. If you thought Rindou has long hair it’s just because you haven’t seen his brother’s yet. Yellow tails of his braids reach just below his thorax. 

They are probably hella long undone. 

Ran looks cosy and sleepy. His downturned eyes scan the room almost curiously, but there’s no lively emotions just yet. Until he stumbles at you and Rindou. The corner of his lips tug upward. Just a bit. Then his lips form a shape of “o” as he sees Rindou helping you set the table. Something he hasn’t seen in… forever? Domesticity was a foreign concept to them both. 

“The door was unlocked.” He says, leaning on the countertop with his elbow. 

Ran looks as if he hasn’t spent a single thought on his looks and came right away as he was. Rolled out of bed and emerged in your apartment. This however couldn’t be true. You’ve seen the enormous variety of shampoo, gel showers and other cosmetic necessities [totally unnecessary for Rindou though] in their bathroom. 

Hearing about the door you shoot Rindou a smug glance which immediately sparked an interest in Ran. He has never been with you two together and now seeing you interact so smoothly, in a familiar way, naturally created a lot of assumptions. Were you and Rindou that close? 

Despite yesterday's question he could now admit that there was not an ounce of romance between you and his younger brother. Ran almost felt sorry for asking. 

“I didn’t lock it because I am here and Ran was coming too.” The tone of his voice is flat like he is explaining the most obvious thing in the world to a two year old. You raise your eyebrows at him and grin, handing Rindou a disk with different kobachis on top of it. It has pickles, onions, and sauces. 

“First of all, he could perfectly open it even with it being locked. Secondly, do you always cook so much or is it just because we are here?” 

He wants to say something else, but Rindou is quick to interrupt him. “Nah. She’s always like this. She just likes cooking.” You nod at this because it’s true. You do like cooking. Very much. “She also likes drawing. And reading. And flowers.” 

These all are true too and you are amazed that Rindou is quick to tell all of your interests. It’s either you are blant or he is very observant and caring. 

Unlike his younger brother, Ran doesn’t wander off around your apartment. He stays at your side at all times quietly observing you. The truth is in the small details and that’s why he doesn’t take his eyes off you, noticing every single little one. Those that stood out and those that were well hidden. His act is impulsive and he is not very well aware of it. Rindou is and he thinks that this is why he wanted to keep you off his world.  To Rindou it’s like his brother is tainting you. 

At the table they sit across from you. By this time it’s mostly you and Ran speaking. He properly introduces himself and you do the same. Even if there’s no need for you too because Ran is not hiding that he heard about you before. Still it’s a polite thing to do. So you tell him your name, your age and that you came from Obihiro to Tokyo to study law. He jokes that he is good at breaking the law and you both laugh while Rindou rolls his eyes. 

“Did you paint it?” Ran asks, showing the picture behind you. It’s an oil painting of Kyoto Temple. There is a lot of green from the trees in front, but even with that the painting looks solemn. Grey stormy skies and dark facade of the temple carry something ominous in it. 

“No. My late grandma painted it. I don’t use oil paints. I actually never got to work with them so I don’t know how to control them. I am more into dry materials. And I’ve never been to Kyoto.” 

“Like pencils?” Ran is on his second portion of rice with spam. It’s delicious and though he is not a big on eating like Rindou, he can’t stop himself. Everything you cooked melts on his tongue. “I wanna see your drawings.” 

“Yeah. Like pencils, pastels, charcoal. Something like that.” 

“Since when do you know anything about art?” Asks Rindou. He puts his chopsticks aside and steals onigiri. You assume he took the tuna one, but you can’t be sure because when you were arranging them, Rindou volunteered to help, then mixed up the plates and put everything together. A total mess. 

Ran shakes his head as if he is laughing. No sound comes out of his mouth though. He turns to his brother, eyeing him. “I don’t know anything. But! I like fashion and contrary to you Rin I have this natural feeling for…” He stops talking and carefully chooses his next words. “For beautiful things.” 

Rindou groans in frustration and covers his face with his hands. Ran laughs. For real this time. His laugh is elegant and light. You can’t decide if it suits him or not. Ran is like a closed book. You can’t read him and you have no idea what is going on inside of his brain. He doesn’t seem like a dangerous person to you and despite knowing that in fact he is pretty much dangerous you have this feeling - call it a premonition - that he won’t ever hurt you. Nonetheless his closeness bothers you. Not to the extent of keeping you on your toes, of course. But still, it’s not the most pleasant thing. 

While they bicker you slip out of the table and go to your bedroom. There you grab your recent sketchbook and some older ones. You also bring out the last canvas you’ve done. On it is a half-way finished forest with a shrine. The only coloured part of this drawing is a forest. Everything else is still a sketch. You think you might return to it today. If you aren’t that tired, that’s all. 

In the living room Ran polishes off what seems to be another portion of fried rice and spam. Rindou didn’t lie when he said his brother was hungry. They both raise their eyes at you when you enter the room. Munching on the food, Ran is quick to stand up and offer you some help. This is a mere polite gesture from him. Few sketchbooks and a canvas aren’t that heavy. You and him both know that. 

And so does Rindou. 

He also knows his brother well enough to understand that this action was spontaneous. Something Ran wasn’t really expecting of himself either. 

It’s already past ten when Ran finishes looking through your works. He doesn’t compliment them or actually say anything at all. His long fingers skip page after page going through months worth of drawings. When something catches his attention he rests his sleepy eyes on it and studies it for some minutes. Besides furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip, Ran's face remains impassive. Once again you can’t even imagine what goes on inside of him. 

Does he like your art or not? Anxiety crawls inside of you. 

“When I am rich enough, like a multimillionaire kinda rich, I’ll buy every single one of your art.” Ran says it without raising his eyes at you so he doesn’t catch how you nervously swallow, your throat doing a bulb motion, fingers locked. Instantly after his word the tension evaporates from your body. Why were you so jittery? Opinions of other people rarely touch you in an important way. Let alone about your art. “What is this drawing about?” 

Between his thumb and an index finger is your latest sketch. The one you started today. You tilt your head so you can see it better. As if trying to see it through his eyes. [You obviously fail at it.] You take a deep breath before explanation pours from your lips - or your heart. Rindou next to Ran stiffens. He is too interested in this particular sketch. For a different reason than Ran. “When I was returning home yesterday I took the train and I saw this view outside. The train was going slow so I could take a mental picture and I just liked it, I guess. You know, all those lights and side streets, stars. Looked quite memorable.” 

He hums presumably agreeing and positions the sketchbook with the drawing on the table, leaning it against your glass full of grape soda. Then, Ran puts his elbows on his knees and props his chin on his intertwined fingers; they look like a bridge. He observes the drawing delicately before he sighs and turns his head to you. “It reminds me of something, but I can’t tell what it is. Can I have it?” 

It’s out of character for him to ask permission when the whole evening he was doing what he wanted and giving dismissive orders. 

“It’s not done yet, but when I finish I’ll give it to you.” 

“Wait a damn second. Why did you never offer me some of your drawings? I want the one with cats.” Rindou is quick to reach out for the old sketchbook of yours. He gives the impression to have memorised their insides by heart as almost immediately he finds what he was looking for. It’s an A4 vertically turned sketch of various cats in the grass. He angles it and pokes at it. “This one.” 

“I never offered because you didn’t ask.” You laugh. “You can have it, Rindou. Do you want me to give you a frame for it? I think I have one just in the right size.” 

The rest of the evening goes steady and slowly. You cut out the ‘cats sketch’ out of the sketchbook and frame it; indeed you have a frame that fits like a glove. Or does the sketch fit the frame? You have no clue. It doesn’t really matter when for the first time you feel so calm and at peace. 

None of you mention yesterday’s event. 

None of the boys eye your peeking through your spaghetti strap tank top bruise. Neither of them addresses your slightly discoloured face and an evident rip of the skin under your nose. 

They go home at two in the morning. 

You give them remaining onigiri for breakfast. 

part 21. 

You sit on your sofa, legs prompt under you, pencil in hands when you hear the doorbell ring. It’s dark outside, even though it’s barely five in the evening. Winter is almost here. And day by day it gets colder and colder.

Apparently, the chill air eats the daylight away. The allegory appears funny to you. 

Today you missed the classes and declined the invitation of your best friend to go on a double date with her brother to Hamarikyu Gardens. You said you might have caught a cold yesterday on your way home. You haven’t told her about the assault and you don’t think you will. 

Nothing really bad happened and she would worry in vain. Right or wrong, it is what you believe in the moment. So you keep your mouth sealed tight. 

The bell rings the second time. Impatiently. You sense that if you won’t open the door immediately the person on the other side of it would break in regardless. Groaning, you stand up from the sofa and pad to the entrance. Pencil and sketchbook forgotten on the floor. 

It’s Ran. When you open the door without asking who it is on the other side you see him, wearing a light coat over a green sweater and black jeans. His outfit looks expensive and well composed. In his hands he holds two paper bags. Those are from the nearest supermarket. He grins when he sees you. 

“Do you know how to cook tonkatsu?” 

“Did you buy eggs?” 

“Yes. Pork, eggs, flour, cabbage, some sauces…” He lowers his eyes down and peeks inside the bags. “Oh! Sangaria Hajikete for you. Mushrooms too. Green onion. I think I forgot noodles.” 

“I have noodles and rice at home. Come on in.” 

He grins again when you invite him inside your apartment and you can’t help it, but smile back. He hangs his coat near your jacket, takes off his sneakers and follows you to the kitchen where he places bags on the countertop. You help him take out groceries noticing midway how relaxed he is. The confidence might run in Haitani’s genes because Rindou is exactly the same.

As if reading your mind - you can’t be sure he doesn’t possess such power - he informs you on Rindou’s whereabouts. “Rin is with Kaku at the gym. You know those guys that would rather live at the gym than at their house? Those are them.” 

“Rindou told me he likes exercising. I mean at least it’s healthy, right?” You take the meat out of the container and rinse it in the sink. From the corner of your eyes you see Ran reaching out for the plate where you could put the meat later. Somehow it didn’t cross your mind. “Thank you. And what do you like to do in your free time?” 

“Sleeping. Napping. Shopping.” He helps you lay the meat by bringing the plate closer to you. “And barging into apartments and making girls cook for me.” 

“Funny.” You do actually find it funny. Not as a poor joke itself, but rather as a lame excuse for flirting. If he even considers it flirting. “Okay, now while I'm doing the meat would you take over chopping vegetables? It's not hard at all.”

“Do I look like a person who can’t cut vegetables?” 

He raises his eyebrows at you and for the first time you notice their colour. Blonde. You almost ask him about why he decided to dye his hair half-half, but hold yourself back. Even if he welcomed himself into your house, even if he is acting as if you know each other for a long time and even if he is Rindou’s brother, you can’t just ask him whatever you want. 

Ran, of course, thinks otherwise.  

He thinks the silence you keep is because of his eye colour. 

“They are amethyst like. Rindou’s are more on the lavender side.” 

“What? 

“Why were you staring at me?” 

“Your eyebrows are blonde. I was thinking you would look good with blonde hair.” 

His eyes go wide and then he grins for the third time this day around you. Ran shakes his head in amusement and fishes out of the drawer long silver knife. He checks it with his finger to see if it’s sharp enough. He takes his time to choose the right knife. One might think he has an opinion on them. You give him the cutting board. He probably knew where they were stored too. You are not worried about it. He might have memorised everything from yesterday. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever go fully blonde again.” He confesses after some time. You turn to him waiting for what he has to say. Ran’s full focus is on cutting green onions - you must admit he does it easily, every chop is neat and of the same size - when he resumes. “When I killed that guy my hair was blonde and long. They shaved everything off at juvy. I hated it. Gladly my hair grows out fast.” 

There’s almost nothing to say without probing further on this unsettling topic. Rindou told you about it just once and then you’ve never returned to it. There was no need and it was evident that Rindou didn’t like to talk about it. Nor did he particularly speak a lot about their days at juvy. Everything was brief. But one thing you remember clearly. Rindou said they killed them when Ran said that he did it. 

Despite your attempt to remain neutral you frown. 

“Rindou told you we did it together, didn’t he? He always presents it like we did it together, but in fact it was me. I knocked out the captain with one blow and then I killed the vice. You couldn’t recognize his face. It was Rin who told me to stop. All he did was just hold him down and maybe dislocate one or two joints. Rin is hella strong.” 

“Yeah he likes to prove it all the time. Opening all jars, bottles. You know.”

In fact, Rindou is a caring person and he does all of this not to validate himself, but to help. Nonetheless, the warmth spreads in his chest everytime you tease him that he likes to appear strong. 

But today it’s not about Rindou. It’s about Ran and so he asks the obvious. “Aren’t you scared of me?” 

“No. Why would I?” You bring out three small bowls and fill them with flour, eggs and breadcrumbs. Thoughtful Ran brought them made so you didn’t need to crumb the bread. “And my point still stands. I think you’d look good with blonde hair.” 

She’s unbelievable, he thinks, and the feeling he had the night before only intensifies. This small premonition of love haunts him, but try all he wants, he can’t shake it off. It’s already made a nest inside of him. Like a little lost bird who neglects his lame excuse of a heart.  

“I have old pictures. I’ll show them to you.” 

“Sounds good. Now grate the cabbage. I’ll deal with the meat.” 

He only hums in response. 

In thirty minutes everything is ready. Ran is more helpful in the kitchen than Rindou, who leaves you alone and spreads on the couch going through your manga or book, is. It might be because Ran is older and he needed to take care of his younger brother all this time. It’s unknown since when they started to live on their own and where their parents are and if they had them in their lives at all. Rindou had never breached the topic so naturally you thought that he avoided it. Those memories got to be the most painful ones. 

You set the table alone. It’s a monotonous task. Bring the cutlery, plates, place all the food and glasses. Nothing too difficult. It bores you a bit. From the living room you can hear Ran speaking on the phone with Rindou. He told you he’d give him a call to tell him everything is ready. His voice is muffled and you have no desire to eavesdrop on them. Privacy is privacy even inside your apartment. 

The steam coming off tonkatsu makes it appear all the more delicious. You contemplate stealing a piece to try if it’s as tasty as it looks, but assume it will ruin the whole composition of nicely laid out meat you spent a good ten minutes arranging. Shredded cabbage seems fresh and savoury too. You wonder if you are just too hungry or it’s been ages since you’ve had tonkatsu and that’s why it looks so delicious.

You are glad Ran stopped by. 

“You know how I wanna name this sketch?” He stands at the entrance of the kitchen - a place where the living room and small dinery are connected; a safe-zone - holding the sketchbook you left on the floor when he rang the doorbell. “Koi no yokan.” 

“A premonition of love?” 

All of a sudden it seems fitting. The best name anyone could think of. Honest and raw. Just like your sketch. Just like you. Just like Ran. In front of each other without embellishments. 

“Yeah.” He nods, coming closer with a sketchbook still in his hands. His eyes widened in surprise as if he wasn’t preparing dinner with you. “It smells too good. Let’s eat. Rin said he will be late. They just started on the second set of whatever the name of that machine was.” 

At the dinner table you sit in front of each other and just like yesterday Ran devours everything he lays his eyes upon. You both chat freely and effortlessly. It’s you who does most of the speaking and he who asks all the questions. Ran learns a lot about you. He discovers he loves it even.  

At last, he asks. “Do you wanna know what happened to those guys?” 

“No, but thank you. You didn’t need to do that, but yet you still did.” 

“Sanzu was with me.” 

“Who?” 

“Nevermind. Maybe I’ll introduce you one day. Do you like burgers? We could make some tomorrow. What time will you be at home?” 

“I am not planning to go anywhere. So anytime. And yes I love burgers.” 

He winks at you. “Noted. I’ll bring everything you don’t need to buy anything.” 

Smile graces your face and you take a sip of grape soda he bought just for you. 

It tastes more delicious than ever. You can’t help, but wonder why. 

part 22. 

Of course, the very next day Ran is at your door again. As promised.

He carries grocery bags and behind his rather broad shoulders, you can see Rindou’s blond hair pulled up in a messy bun peeking at you. Ran grins, pushing forward as he welcomes himself in your apartment. Rindou rolls his eyes, fascinated at both - how cosy and comfortable Ran is with you just after your second meeting and how cosy and comfortable you are with him. 

But then, there’s nothing too unanticipated. Ran’s charisma and charms are well-known all over Tokyo. He is very handsome too which only ever worked in his favour. And, more importantly in Rindou’s opinion, Ran’s is not gloomy. If anything, his usual expression is a beautiful mixture of melancholy and sadness that seems to make every girl fawn over Ran. 

Not that Rindou ever had any problems with girls. He is Haitani after all. They will always remain popular. 

What you don’t know and haven't seen yet is that Ran is an absolutely vicious person. He can be cruel without limits. A lot of times, in fights, it’s Rindou who stops him. He believes - and rightfully so - he is the only one who can. Once raged and challenged Ran doesn’t know the limits. 

Not that Rindou is any better. 

They just maintain control over each other like brothers should. 

After burgers, comes mentaiko pasta and after it ramen and then gyoza - which Ran surprisingly can seal very well and Rindou once again for the thousand-ish times in his life feels lesser than his almighty older brother is - then some other western dish and then it’s just an insanely delicious food carousel neither of you can remember. 

Once Ran brought some old photographs he had. Looking at them Rindou had a vague disorienting ache that transmitted that he was looking at strangers. There were their old friends. Them before juvie. Other people and the same places in Roppongi that now were again theirs. All his life everything Rindou was dreaming was to be like Ran and then own Roppongi, a place they called home. But as Ran passes pictures to you, explaining what is forever imprinted on them and who all those people are [some of them are dead despite being so young; and now they’ll forever remain so] Rindou feels sudden abruption of everything he holds dear to him.  

Was it all really worth it? Does he like what he does? Aren’t all his goals and envisions for the future of those small bulky boy in the picture, but not him as of now? Would he always follow Ran? 

Yes. Yes. No. Yes.  

He chants as a mantra.

One day, late at night, after another delicious dinner at your place, Rindou is sprawling on the sofa when Ran wrapped in a towel shows up from the bathroom. They look at each other and the excruciating thoughts going on inside Rindou’s head are so evident they appear to Ran like neon signs. Bleeding. Ran loves his little brother so he asks first knowing that Rindou would never dare to approach the topic first. At least not today. “What?” 

“What do you mean what?” Fends off Rindou sitting up. His glasses slide down over his nose to his lips and Ran bites down a laugh. 

His little brother. His own flesh and blood. “I know what you want to ask so ask away and stop tormenting yourself.” 

“What is the point of me voicing it if you know what I wanna ask anyway?”

Ran sighs and sits opposite of him, spreading his arms on the sofa’s back and crossing his legs. He rests his head on one of his arms, tilting it at an awkward angle that just looking at him makes you feel uncomfortable. “Because I want to hear it from you.” 

“Can you promise me not to do anything with her?” 

Who is her goes without saying. It’s you. 

Before answering Ran shrugs, licking his insanely perfect white teeth and tilting his head backwards, he closes his eyes, sighing. “Why?” 

“Because we don’t have a lot of trust-worthy nice people around us, Ran. I don’t want to end up choosing between you and her, because the choice is fucking obvious. Let’s keep it friendly coded.” Rindou sounds desperate. His words are crude and raw and honest. He calls out to his brother, already knowing, that whatever plea he invokes it’s lost in the vast void of Ran’s feelings. Rindou is confused, but he wouldn't be who he is today, if not for his ability to stand his ground. So he takes a deep breath and continues. “Listen, Ran, do you think it’s safe to date? Like we are not what we were before when it was just fucking around and punching randoms outside. Tenjuku is serious. Izana is fucking serious. Shion is a mad fucking dog and Kanji is crazy. Sanzu is only behaving when he sniffs a line. Out of them only Kaku and Koko are the only…” 

“Rin.” Ran raises a hand to stop his brother. He sits straight and for a very long time looks at Rindou without saying anything. He searches for the right words and then his mind is going blank because all he knows is that there’s something rotten inside of you. And Ran wants to carve it out. He saw it the first time you two met face to face the night you were assaulted. From that day all he wants is to tug at your insides, clean what hides behind your ribs, reach your soul and make it his. Make you pure and perfect again. He has no idea how to communicate all of this to Rindou so he says the most blatant shit neither of them believes, but they both eat it up anyway. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything. And most definitely I wasn’t planning on dating her or anybody else.” 

“Good.” Rindou purses his lips and his face loses all its colour. His tan is not helping him a bit. “Thank you.” 

They sit not moving or speaking for a little bit, settling in a comfortable usual silence. Ran looks at the table in front of him and Rindou stares at the huge floor to ceiling window. He can’t see shit from his place. Just a bit of neon lights and the building across. Better than nothing. Those simple things keep his mind occupied until he hears Ran standing up. He turns his head in his direction and catches a towel slipping down Ran’s hips. Rindou screams. 

“Why. Is. This. Shit. Always happening to you? Are you doing it on purpose?”

“Why are you always reacting like you’ve never seen it? We go to sento every other week.” 

“Doesn’t mean I wanna see your dick! It was a fucking jumpscare!” 

Ran grins. “Big and scary?” 

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Go put some clothes on.” 

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly everything is back to normal. 

They both love each other very much. 

part 23. 

The desire not to let his world incorporate you fails. The fall is sudden, not expected at all and Rindou thinks it was him who jinxed you all, because once you get obsessed with something - in both ways, negative and positive - it will for sure crawl its way into your life. 

That’s why when Ran points at your back asking Rindou if his eyes are not lying to him and it’s really you, he is not surprised. Perhaps he was even expecting something like this to happen. Just not so soon. 

It’s the middle of December. The weather is so cold and windy you feel it in your bones. At least it’s not snowing and roads are walkable. Not that Rindou or Ran walked. They both arrived in Ran’s new Honda NSX-R he bought second-hand not long ago. Though he never cared for cars, his white slick Honda became his obsession. He doted on it more than he ever had on any other thing. Besides Rindo, that’s it. 

The small, but still spacious club in Roppongi is full with people. Loud music hits every wall and then gets back to the middle of the dance floor, shaking everything that gets in the way. The floor is constantly vibrating and the smell of alcohol is so sharp it intoxicates even those who aren’t drinking, boosting the wild environment. People dance and drink, most of them being underaged, but because they are part of one or the other gang, they are in. 

You are not the one to complain though. You got in only because of your best friend’s brother. 

From where they stand - a VIP zone - Rindou can’t really see if it’s you, but his gut feeling tells him yes. He knows for a fact that you were supposed to go out today and now he regrets he didn’t ask for details. Maybe somehow he would've talked you out of it or not show up himself. Half of the Tenjiku are here and what is the worst of all S-62 generation too. Except for Izana, but he was never big on clubs or parties. 

Would it be too impolite to not greet you? Would you even notice that? Have you noticed them at all?  Neither of them can say. Communicating only with their eyes, Ran urges his brother to follow him. He is both intrigued at what are you doing at famously delinquents only club - not that ordinary normal people are never here - and why are you doing chatting up Toman members. So he pushes forward to you through the crowd. Rindou is closely behind him. 

When they approached your group, the smile from everybody’s faces vanished. Haitani brothers are never good news. It seems everybody knows that, but you, because you grin and a bit tipsy you give your hand out to Ran. He laughs, his laugh is velvety as usual, and shakes your hand for longer than needed.  Now everyone's eyes are on you. 

“I didn’t know you would be here!” You say surprised, clearly happy to see him. Much to his delight and your friends' confusion. “Is Rindou here too?” 

“Yeah, of course he is. I saw you from there.” Ran slightly turns his body and shows you where he and Rindou have been up most of the night. You listen to him attentively, focusing really hard on what he says and lean a bit closer when you can’t hear him. “... decided to say hi. For how long are you gonna stay here?” 

The answer is lost on your tongue because Rindou, clearly pissed, shows up right in front of you. His cheeks are slightly pink. It might be from alcohol or from the heat of enclosed space with so many people in it. That you too can feel. 

Rindou waves at you and glares at Ran. You laugh at their interaction. You’ve never been out with them both before rather than at your convenience store near the house and seeing them behave exactly like you are used to when they are at your place or you are at theirs is pretty relaxing. 

“Those are my friends. My best friend is here and this is her brother.” You introduce your company having no idea that they already know each other. “And this is Ran and Rindou. We are neighbours and really good friends.” 

Neither of them shake hands or smile at each other. The tension that fills the air is tangible. It’s slicky and warm. You want it gone. Puzzled you look from Ran to your best friend’s brother and then to your best friend who shrugs her shoulders. Lastly you look at Rindou whose eyes are not angry anymore, but sorrowful. You frown and step closer to him, wanting to ask what’s going on, but Ran speaks first. 

“It was nice to meet you. You all have fun.” 

With that he waves at you and disappears into the crowd. Rindou, not saying a word, goes after him, throwing a haste look at you. 

He thinks what just happened was fucking embarassing. 

part 24. 

This club is a neutral territory - it’s in Roppongi so informally it’s controlled by the Haitani brothers - but misunderstandings still happen. 

Neither of your friends said much to you after Rindou and Ran left. Two questions asked were how did you know them and if you were close. That’s all. The party continued and the gloomy face your best friend’s brother wore for a short time dissolved under the influence of alcohol. 

You tried to search for either of the brothers scanning with your eyes the dance floor, the bar and the DJ booth. Nothing. The VIP zone was closed off and no matter at what angle you looked you couldn’t see past its dark curtains. 

Sudden encounter left you with a bitter taste. You felt like you did something wrong. Said something that you weren’t supposed to say or acted in an unexpected way that everybody hated. The cruel flavour of iron is strong in your throat. Distress doesn’t depart from you the whole evening. 

The fight that happens that night inside of the club is almost fatal. You didn’t see much of it starting, but music comes to a halt and then lights are on and it’s blinding and the shouts and sound of skin being ripped and crushing bones are speaking for themselves. Some people rush out of the doors which causes a massive panic. Somebody is calling the police and then when this fact is made public the panic intensifies. 

You freeze clutching your best friend’s hand. She hurriedly speaks to her brother, nodding her head when he responds. There’re  shouts from everywhere and people are rushing by you to the exit. Everything and everyone falls to silence when a guy jumps off the stairs to where the fight is happening - in the middle of the dance floor. He is around the same height as Ran and might be the same age or close. What catches your eyes is his tattoo. It goes all the way from his temple to his neck. The V-neck sweater he wears is perhaps on purpose so everyone can see it. Just as the shaved left side of his head. 

“It’s Shion Madarame, one of the Heavenly Kings.” Now that it’s so silent you can hear your best friend’s brother whispering it. “We need to get out. It’s gonna get really violent.” 

That is when you notice that the entrance is blocked. Nobody’s moving or speaking or perhaps even breathing. Everyone’s attention is on Shion. 

“Whatcha you guys think you were fucking doing?” He spits at the floor before pulling out metal brass knuckles. He puts it on his right hand almost teasingly. So lazily, his every move seems to be captured in slow motion. He laughs when he raises his head and sees pure animalistic fear spreading on the faces before him. Adrenaline is kicking high. 

Those two guys that started the fight are no longer opponents. They might even forget what they were fighting about. 

When Shion without any warning lands a fist to the first guy's chest, the poor creature flies to the wall behind him hitting people standing there. This guy is taller and more muscular than Shion, but still he doesn’t fight back even when Shion straddles him and punches his face. Nobody really does anything. They all watch and watch and watch. Violent smell of blood evaporates every other.

Somebody cries. 

The fight - which in all honesty is not a fight at all, but a massacre since no one stops it or intervenes and neither of the boys show any resistance - turns into killing. From where you stand you can’t see the details and now you wonder what those two unlucky boys looked like. You can’t tell and probably none will in two months or so; the damage Shion has done to their face is beyond recognition. 

You spot Rindou sitting on the stairs. Ran stands next to him twirling the baton in his hands. He is talking to some guy you see for the first time. They all are unbothered by what’s going on beneath them. Rindou is the only one who intently observes every move of Shion. But it doesn’t seem like he is regretful or anything like that. He scrutinises every move with a purpose of remembering it so he can use it against someone else later. That much is evident. 

The guy next to Ran has a buzz cut and huge peculiar scar that you think he might have earned in some fight. Receiving it for sure hurt like hell. It doesn’t make him appear ugly though. This guy looks almost gentle. Especially when he smiles at something Ran said. You wonder what in this situation might seem funny to them, but then you have no clue what they are talking about. 

Soon, another guy with long white hair shows up on the stairs. He wears a mask and you can’t see his face, but he seems young. Younger than you. He too is obviously in a gang. Masked as he is, he shoves himself in between Ran and the guy with a scar and says something. Rindou hears it as he turns his head into their direction. 

“Shion! That’s enough. Let them be.” Ran gets down the stairs and stands behind Shion’s back who continues punching the guys as if he is not hearing Ran. Probably he is not. The excitement in his body is too much; it clouds every other feeling. “Shion! Stop! Police are on their way. Come on. It’s enough.” 

Still, nobody moves. Nobody tries to escape. The next thing you know is Ran raising his baton and the sharp sound of air sliced in two fills the club. He strikes a couple of times. That much you counted, but it got to be more, because blinded with rage Shion throws himself at Ran. 

Rindou is quick to assist his brother as well as the guy with the scar. The only one who remains on the stairs is the guy with the mask. You hear the baton working again and then Shion is screaming. Ran laughs. 

“Come to your fucking sences, Madarame.” Spits the guy with the scar and then he turns to the crowd. “What are you all still doing there? Get those two to the ER and… Shit!” 

His last words are lost in the noise of the police siren and people shouting. Whatever that paralysis was, it's now gone. Everyone is pushing and kicking again. You hold your friend’s hand for dear life. It’s easy to lose each other. 

Somebody’s hand is on your shoulder when you are halfway to the exit. You think that someone mistook you or was just grabbing you to remain on their feet. However the person tugs you at them and annoyed you look back to see who it is.

It’s Ran.

He says something and you shake your head indicating that you can’t hear him. Not with what’s going on around you. It’s a mess. He visibly sighs, his chest going up and down. He then steps forward and says something to your best friend’s brother. They exchange some words quickly and then you all are led back from where you came by Ran. 

Hand in hand he takes you through the personnel area to the emergency exit. 

Outside it’s colder now than when you came. You shiver and he looks at you. His eyes inspect every bit of you as if he wants to make sure you are okay. You are. He seems satisfied by it. 

“We all should be going. How did you come here?” He again speaks to the brother of your best friend. 

“By car.” 

“Good. Get your girl and friends and get going.” Ran turns to the left where his own car is parked in the distance. Your hand still lays in his. Without second thought you go after him. 

No one thinks of correcting him that the girl is his sister not his girlfriend. No one cares.

Police sirens are getting closer when your best friend speaks up. “Isn't she coming with us?”

Ran stops, confused, he looks at you and then at your friends as if he doesn’t understand why she is even asking that. “No. We are neighbours. I’ll take her home.” 

“Did you even ask her?” It’s your friend’s brother. There’s irritation in his voice. You’ve never heard him speak like that to anyone. 

“Are you trying to pull this Toman noble cavalry shit on me now?” You see the baton for the second time today. It has red stains on it. He stretches his hand with it pointing at your friends. “Cause I am really tired and not in the mood to…” 

“It’s okay.” You intervene by putting a hand on Ran’s wrist. “It’s okay. I don’t mind going with Ran. I trust him. You have nothing to worry about.” 

There’s another smug expression of satisfaction on Ran’s face. His body relaxes and he drops your hand. Without saying anything he lazily goes to his car, unlocking the door for you first. You get inside.   

As you pass by your friends you give them a wave and they nod at you. 

Everything seems to be okay.

part 25.

After fifteen minutes in Ran’s car you notice that he isn’t in fact taking you home. 

You were busy looking at his car, its leather interior, the busy lights of Tokyo and Ran himself. 

“I am taking us to my favourite ramen place. It’s a bit too far, but they serve the best shoyu ramen and are open 24/7. Me and Rin are regulars there.” It’s Ran who breaks the silence first. His voice is soft and he is back to being Ran you are used to hanging out with. Confident and firm, and almost a little bit gentle. 

“How is Rindou going to get home?” You ask what worries you the most. “Will he be safe?” 

“Totally. He’ll stay with Kaku. You probably saw him today. The guy with a scar?” 

“Oh. Yes.” 

“He got it in an accident when he was a kid. Kakucho is the coolest. He might seem scary, but he is very loyal and even kind.” You stop at the red light and Ran looks over at you, you who is staring at him. “Were you afraid today?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“Were you afraid when you met those bastards in the alley?” 

“Not really.” 

“Not really?” 

“Yes.” He is clearly waiting for more explanation, because it’s not normal to not being afraid. Everyone would be afraid. You both understand as much. You sigh, crossing your hands around your chest and straighten up in the seat. You look at the road ahead when you start to explain. “My sister’s boyfriend is in the gang. They aren’t just simple motorbike gangs that are fooling around, throwing punches and you know the rest. They are full on criminals. He got my sister on drugs. She overdosed five times. He got her pregnant too. She aborted the kid. And I’ve seen him and his people doing worse than Shion did to those guys today. These all are not new for me. I’ve seen it before.” 

Ran hums. His long fingers caressing the leather of the wheel. He accelerates, rushing forward before traffic lights change. A few cars that are on the streets at this hour irritatedly honk after you. Inside the car the outside world gives the impression of decorations. Nothing seems real. You get this feeling for the second time. 

Once on the train and now again. With Ran in his car. 

“How’d you know Shion’s name?” Ran asks, his attention again on you. Whatever he was thinking shoved aside.  

“Everybody was whispering his name when he jumped on the dance floor. Are you in the same gang?” 

“You can say so.” 

“And the guy with the mask too?” 

“His name is Sanzu and yes he is in Tenjiku too.” 

“He seemed young.”  “He is sixteen. Two years younger than you and Rin so don’t brag.” 

You scoff and Ran smiles. Then he gets serious. You sense it with every pore of your body. His car is a sport type - or so you think - and there isn’t much space. It’s comfortable though. You aren’t feeling confined or trapped. But that must be just Ran. His mood is transmitted well enough. That too, however, must be just Ran.

“I might come off as a hypocrite, but they are toxic to each other. I don’t know how it’s in Obihiro, but here in Tokyo every other guy in a gang I know, treats his woman well if they have one. Those who aren't, they don’t have a girl. Shion for once. He fucks around, but nothing serious. Girls who are with him know they aren’t forever. Are they still together? Your sis and that guy. What position does he hold in the gang?” 

“They are or at least they were when I left. She doesn’t speak about him much, because I hate him and throw my hands at him every time he is in my way.” You stop, suddenly remembering how once you slapped him in the face in front of everyone in your school. He didn’t lay a hand on you, said some stupid shit about how fierce you are, hopped you sister on his Kawasaki and left. You were small and that’s why you believe he didn’t hit you. You weren’t sure he wouldn’t now, but maybe you just never knew him at all. You roll your head on the headrest and look at Ran. “He is some kind of executive or so I heard. I have zero clue about hierarchy and how it goes in the gangs. What position do you and Rindou hold?” 

“I am one of the four Heavenly Kings and Rin is my second-in-command. Kakucho and Shion are the other two and then we have Mochizuku, but you haven’t seen him yet.”  

Yet. 

Ran parks the car outside of the small shop. You have no idea where you both are. You’ve never been to this part of Tokyo. It’s very peaceful here. There are no people outside and the buildings around show no sign of their inhabitants being awake at this late hour. In front of the shop, just a couple of metres away you spot a middle aged man with bright red tenugui tied around his head. The man is smoking sitting on his hunches. When he sees Ran’s car he smiles wide and stands up, waving his cigarette at him. 

The conversation is lost and you are somewhat happy about it. Discussing Tenjiku with Ran, you crossed the line Rindou so carefully built and guarded. It almost feels like a betrayal of some sort. You still were much closer to Rindou than to Ran. Wouldn’t it be more right to discuss all these with him and not Ran? 

Whatever is right or wrong doesn’t matter anymore. You all don’t belong in the world where it does. 

Inside the ramen shop it’s warm and the smell of broth fills your nose helping you realise how hungry you really are. What alcohol you had at the club is out of your system, but the after starvation it always brings is here. You wonder how amazingly our bodies work and how it can sober up and get rid of any influence when a dangerous situation is inflicted upon it. Amusing. 

The man happily chats with Ran and you follow them both to the distant booth in the back of the room. It’s closed off and has a curtain for privacy. Another VIP zone. 

“You sit here. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

With that you are left alone. Not for long. After a couple of minutes Ran returns with a menu, a bottle of sparkling water and a grape soda. He puts soda and a menu with a pencil in front of you and sits on the red and brown leather couch opposite you. The menu is one of those where you need to check what and how you want your food to be done. You take a pencil in your hand and read, your eyes following different variations of ramen they have here. 

“Order tonkotsu ramen. You’ll like it.” Recommends Ran. He opens the bottle of water and takes a very long sip. “Even the water here is god-like.” 

“Isn’t it Suntory?” 

“It is, but it’s more delicious here. Wait until you try their ramen and you'll understand what I am saying.” 

Naturally, when ramen arrives and you make a first sip of the broth, Ran is looking at you expectantly. You try noodles, pork belly, onions and enoki mushrooms - you put those additionally because when you came upon them in the menu you suddenly realised you were craving them - on its own. And then you try everything together. The taste is rich. It is delicious. 

You look at Ran and nod your head, smiling. 

“Told you. The best ramen in Tokyo. It’s sad they do not make Mont Blanc here. The Mont Blanc I like is in another part of Tokyo.” He pouts. 

“We can try to make it at home if you want.” 

“Really? You can make Mont Blanc at home?” 

“Ran, you can make anything at home. Like literally anything.” 

He grins at you thinking he might marry you right here on the spot. 

He doesn’t say it out loud. Instead he closes the curtain and indulges in his shoyu ramen. And your company. 

part 26. 

On the 24th of December you leave for Obihiro. Your parents are excited you are coming and for once they seem like a proper family when you call them beforehand to inform what time you’ll arrive home.

Rindou is the one to take you to the bus station.  “You shouldn’t have made all this food for us.” He tells you when you sit on the bench near your bus. Your small luggage at your feet. “And you went out and made this insane dessert for Ran. He is totally not worth it.” 

You laugh, but your laugh is sad. You don’t wanna leave. “I made twelve of those. Each day I’ll be missing. And I made all this food so it won’t smell like salt and vinegar chips on our balcony. You gotta eat normally, Rindou. And I also left gifts for you two.” 

His eyes widen. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “You are way too kind to us. Do you know when was the last time someone gifted us something? Never. You shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s in the small bag. I wrote your names on top of it. Shoot me a message if you like it.” 

The lady on the speaker announces boarding for your bus. You stand up, take your small bag and together with Rindou you stand near the door not ready to say goodbye just yet. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and whatever he wants to say stays imprisoned inside of him. [Forever].   You hug him and he hugs you back. 

Without saying another word to each other you get inside the bus. 

He doesn’t leave until your bus is out of sight. 

part 27. 

You celebrate New Year with your parents and your sister in the warm family house in Obihiro. You all exchange gifts, watch fireworks and take a lot of pictures. Your absences united your family the way your presence never could. 

After the dinner, you and your sister go to visit the shrine as you do every year when your phone beeps. 

It’s a message from Ran. 

my favourite place to eat mont blanc is now your place. can't wait for it to be open again. 

haha. i’d say you are cute if i didn’t know you. 

i think i am pretty much cute and handsome

btw i like the drawing you did of me 

rin is so jealous 

tell him he should take me out somewhere and if the atmosphere is right i’ll draw him too

can i message you later? me and my sister are visiting the shrine

i won’t tell him that

ofc. be safe. happy new year. 

happy new year ran 

Rindou calls you later. He says you shouldn’t listen to Ran and he liked his sweater all right. He says he bought you something too, but no matter how much you begged him to say what it is he wouldn’t tell you. You promise to message him the time you arrive so he’ll pick you up and then he hangs up. 

You miss them too. 

[Ran messages you exactly fifteen minutes after Rindou’s call. You are still at the shrine and your sister isn’t happy you are on you phone again, but you still reply to him. Every time he messages you do.] 

[epersonae]

The cooking project - Crêpes

If yesterday's post was probably one of my most-made recipe cards, this might be my most-made recipe in my binder, which is sort of a Binder of Theseus. My sister made me a binder full of typed-out recipes as a gift when I was a sophomore in college, and I still have the section separators, which were collages of images cut from magazines, and I have some (most? all?) of those typed recipes, though the binder itself has been replaced. And of course I've added many more recipes, printed from the internet or sent to me by email or clipped from magazines. (I had a subscription to Sunset for a while in the late 00s!)

This recipe, though, was copied from a webpage into probably a Word document and then printed out, and dates from March 15 2003. The URL in the image no longer works, but the contents can be found in the Wayback Machine (ctrl+f, "crepes"). It was posted as part of the author's "French Week" as sort of an oblique protest of the impending Iraq War. In any case, I have been making it since then.

Because this can be found in the Wayback Machine, and because the instructions are hilariously long, I am not going to retype the whole thing here.

My only personal notations are combining "whole wheat flour" and "white flour" into a single line (I've literally never made these as savory crepes in 20 years), and a note that 1 egg approximately equals 3 crepes.

Making the batter

One of the things I love about this recipe is that it scales really well: one egg to 1/4 cup flour. The sugar ratio is weird and I usually have to do a rough approximation, because 1/4 cup sugar is 4 tablespoons, but also it's a very forgiving recipe that way.

I have learned over the years to beat the eggs first and THEN add the flour/sugar/salt, much less lumps that way. (ironically, 20 years and I just noticed he never says when to add the salt, altho clearly it's with the flour)

I have literally no idea how much milk I use. I mix in a bit at a time until it looks like the right texture/color. It's all vibes, baby.

I don't think I've ever let it sit two whole hours but it definitely does change texture a bit, for the better, if left to sit at least a half an hour. (I have also never drunk a glass of red wine while waiting for the batter.)

Below is: just after mixing in the flour/sugar/salt, then after some milk, all the milk, and after sitting for idk half an hour? 45 minutes?

Jam! Eating while making!

As I said, I've literally never made them savory, altho the last time I had them with a little bit of local whipped goat cheese and strawberry jam, and that was FUCKING TIGHT.

My usual is to take out whatever jams I have (today: strawberry and raspberry freezer jam that I made in 2020 and 2021 respectively, quince jam that a friend made, and marmalade) and just alternate flavors as I make them. I usually end up eating some while I'm making them. (As the guy says, bachelor mode™️.)

Two eggs' worth did in fact make about six crepes, I think, which is kind of a lot for dessert but I guess I had dessert for dinner, it's fine.

(Oh, and I think I've tried flipping them without a spatula exactly once, I am just not that bold.)

In any case, this continues to be one of my favorite recipes of all time, I will make it for anyone at any time for any reason. (The longest stretch I ever went without making it was after Ryn died, and I finally had eggs and milk and enough energy...and found BUGS IN MY FLOUR and about lost my damn mind. But I have made them a couple of times since then.)

Fanfiction bonus content!

So if you are reading my fic for the benefit of all the broken hearts, and you have already read chapter 16, then you know why I posted this today. If you are reading it and have not yet read the new chapter, consider this a teaser.

If you are not reading it: for the benefit of all the broken hearts is a fix-it fic for Water Flowing Underground, a very strange beautiful fic that blurs the line between Actor AU and RPF, that plays with questions of identity and choice and intention and also what we are even doing with fanfiction. My fic picks up from the end of that fic, from the point of view of a character who is dismissed by the narrative of the original, and who finds a way out of the wreckage. (it's the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever written, and yes, I think that includes the Bigfoot fic, and also I think my best writing ever. Certainly the most work I've ever put into any writing in any medium.)

And also there are crepes.