#also anon you sound like a very mature and responsible adult I feel a little embarrassed you’re following me 😭

[loki-zen]

early marriage anon guy here:

thanks for not publishing the other asks, they got a bit wordy and I don’t want to bring Discourse down upon your house.

to clarify what i was getting at a little bit, I don’t think that it’s a causal thing. I think it’s much more likely that what I’m seeing is a combo of “people who emotionally mature quickly are more likely to be happy & successful adults, and also more likely to form stable relationships at a relatively young age” and “if you’re in your late twenties, everyone you know who’s in a successful LTR got together fairly young, because of how math works”

What I’ll absolutely argue is that getting into an LTR comparatively young doesn’t seem to be incompatible with becoming a happy and successful adult, and I wish we didn’t discourage people from that path in the states. Many young men seem very hung up on the societal expectation to have a womanizer phase, and a lot of them don’t seem to benefit from it too much, even if they pull it off.

overall benefits of sexual revolution that I think were good and important: kids somewhat later in life seems good, even for couples who paired up young, access to birth control helps women not get trapped in bad relationships, as does greater societal acceptance of divorce.

We haven’t done anything real effective to reduce sexual violence, but people seem to take it more seriously. I’m not sure how much it was ignored in the past though, other than marital rape being very much glossed over in the past. idk if that really has to do with the sexual revolution, but seeing it as unacceptable is a good change.

Overall, “barefoot and pregnant at 20” is a bad thing to encourage as a society, I just worry that we’ve shifted to encouraging conditions that lead to a lot of people being “single and childless at 32”, which is also not ideal for people being happy.

I honestly just hadn't gotten around to it! im busy:/

I think the main point I wanted to make in response was basically that while - like everything that gets sufficiently mainstream does - it's obviously been very much captured by the "there should be A Normal and there's something wrong with you if you're not it" crowd, the real point of sexual permissiveness was supposed to be permissiveness, not mandating.

Your female friends shouldn't feel antifeminist for not having a 'hoe phase'; it would be antifeminist of them to shame others for having one, but entirely feminist of them to enjoy settling down early as something that is no doubt safer and more enjoyable to do in a world where it can be a choice - moreover, a world where if it doesn't work out, they can call a divorce lawyer instead of looking up "undetectable poison for husbands" on Ye Olde Lady-Google.

Also, it's important to get your history right so you know what you're comparing shit to.

It used to be expected for a lot of men to have womaniser phases in the past! There's never been any strong expectation that a man be a virgin on his wedding night. Since for the most part Respectable Ladies that wanted to get married couldn't openly have a hoe phase, for men of the middle classes and up this took the form of economic sex tourism; patronising sex workers mostly drawn from lower economic classes. Because of the concentration of this activity into a relatively* small subset of the female population, and the state of protection and medicine available, this practice spread hella venereal disease which men then took back to their eventual wives and then your kid gets born with syphillis. Or you could fuck with women your own class and wind up getting sued because of you do it wrong, you've just scuppered that woman's access to financial stability and social acceptance for the rest of her life. Sounds stressful!

*relatively, meaning that there were far more sex workers than there are today. Stands to reason - compared to today's sex workers, they made bank!

Anyway, long story short this is a classic case of blaming modernity for something that's been around a long time.

What else - you talked about doing work in a relationship as if it was something you could get out of the way if you started early. Sadly that isn't how it works - when people say relationships take work, they mean the whole time.

It being harder to meet people in your thirties - the actual meeting part can be harder, but working out if you're compatible is typically a lot easier. You know a lot more about who you are and what you want than you did when you were barely not a teenager, and so do they!

And of course, people have always been single and childless in their thirties. Which is not that old!

And holy shit, there was a lot of sexual violence in the past. We've certainly reduced that a lot! You hear more about it because, as you say, people take it more seriously. But in a lot of pre-sexual revolution relationships, people, especially women, basically didn't have a choice about getting married and didn't have the right to refuse sex with their spouses. Plus the economic sex tourism was a hotbed of sexual violence.

[alyss-spazz-penedo]

So this is not actually the next part of the unedited v!Wind fic but I got the sweetest anon ask in my inbox and like, suddenly *m o t i v a t i o n,* y’know?

So have this sort-of one-shot, set in some nebulous hypothetical future of that fic. Idr if I’d brought up the possibility of Phantom traveling with the boys before (I really need to find time to reread what I’ve written), but this would be set after they'd been past that point for a while.

Nonny, I hope you enjoy <3 This one’s for you! (And the amazing @w1lmutt, of course.)

TW: cursing, bleeding and self-inflicted harm. Nothing graphic, I promise. (Also, the hero boys being stupid martyrs, but that’s practically par for the course.)

They manage to make it to camp before Phantom explodes.

"What the fuck, old man!" the boy snarls. He grabs Time by the collar and drags the taller man down to his level. Time lets him, which only serves to incite the boy further. "What the hell do you think I am? Some kind of charity case?" He spits.

Time says nothing. He doesn’t even have the decency to wince when Phantom jostles his broken arm.

"Look. At. Me!" the boy demands, punctuating each word with a small, ineffectual shake. "I am more than just another one of your failures! I make my own damn choices! I can deal with their consequences! You are not responsible for me, who the fuck do you think you are?"

Time shakes his head, still too calm to be doing their youngest’s temper any favors. He doesn’t look at Phantom like the boy’s a perfectly capable hero in his own right, and Phantom cannot stand that. "I understand that you-" the man begins.

Phantom decks him.

"That’s enough!" The others step in then, pulling them away from each other. Time, however, won’t stop looking at him like that.

Phantom rips himself away, snarling. He needs to get out of here.

He stalks off before he can do something really rash, like go for his sword.

~o0o~

"You here to lecture me?"

Phantom kicks his feet in the air from the branch he’s perched on, eerily reminiscent of the first time the heroes had met him. His eyes are dark.

"Not gonna lie, I was expecting the captain or the puppy," the boy drawls.

Four sighs. With a quick burst from his Roc’s cape, he climbs his way up to a branch nearby, settling so they’re vaguely facing each other. "You did go too far."

"Fuck off," Phantom growls, jabbing his blade at Four threateningly. “He was asking for it.”

Four eyes the blade, then its wielder. "You shouldn’t point that at someone you don’t intend to use it on. It’s a weapon, not a toy."

"If you think I’m merely playing around, then man have I got unpleasant news for you."

Four sighs. "I know being babied sucks, but watch what lines you cross," he tells the younger boy bluntly.

"Oh, shut up. What would you know?"

"Who do you think got the brunt of the group’s mother-cucco tendencies before you came along?" Four points out, dry. In the ensuing silence, he ticks off, "I'm the shortest of the lot, and sometimes that means they like to pretend I’m not mature enough to handle ‘adult things’," he makes air quotes with his fingers. "Meanwhile Hyrule regularly overextends himself, but he’s got one of the best senses of when to cut and run, so he’s better about tolerating the fretting and gets hurt less frequently than, say, the Champion. And Legend gets out of most of it by being an asshole." A pause. "Though even he has the good manners to thank someone who saved him, however roundabout the Vet might be about it."

The boy looks nearly contemplative, under the stubborn mulishness. Four lets the silence sit for a minute. Then, lightly, he tacks on, “Though if you’re trying to pull a Legend to get out of being fussed over, I should warn you: that ship has long sailed for you.”

Phantom stares at him with that fantastic pissy face he makes sometimes. “Was that a boat joke,” he deadpans. Four grins at him, quick and impish, and the boy rewards him with a groan. "The sailor puns are getting really old."

"You're not the one who gets to decide that," Four giggles. Then, "Feeling better? Ready to face the music?"

"Absolutely not." But the kid climbs out of the tree anyway, no threats or violence necessary. Four will count it as a win.

~o0o~

Back at camp, Phantom marches up to Time. With everyone else not-so-discretely looking on, he makes a show of leaving his sword out of easy reach and points at the ground.

“Sit,” he orders, as though the armored hero were a very large dog.

Time stares down at him. “If you mean to hit me again, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” he says wryly. Phantom scowls.

“Sit, you big lug. I know a spell for that arm of yours, and I’m not doing it with you standing over me. You’re too tall.”

Time lowers himself to the ground obligingly, even as he prods, “A spell, hmm? What exactly does it do?”

Phantom, somewhat alarmingly, snaps his fangs over his fingertips hard enough to draw blood. “It’s not quite a healing spell, but it’ll get rid of that shiner I gave you, and probably patch up your arm too. Gonna use your magic to do it, though.” He lifts bloody fingers to his own face, dabbing marks on his skin with a hesitance that speaks of relying on borrowed memories, before pausing. “Close your eyes, old man. I’m not teaching you this spell, you’re an idiot who’ll misuse it.”

“So pushy today.” Time closes his one eye, reluctant but confident that the others will stop the boy from attacking him if it comes down to it. “I don’t see what the problem is. It sounds useful; it’d be good to take some of the burden of healing off Hyrule.”

“You would think that,” the boy huffs, right before wet fingers brush at his cheek. Time twitches away with a faint grimace.

“Are you bleeding on me now,” he asks, plaintive. Phantom huffs.

“Don’t be a baby; it’ll flake right off. Quit moving.”

The man exhales slowly, obviously uncomfortable. But despite his suspicions and reservations, Time doesn’t move and he doesn’t ask. He merely lets the boy do as likes, lets him keep his secrets. This, Phantom knows, is Time’s own kind of apology.

He’s not above taking advantage of that.

The former villain dots a final smear under the hero’s eye, then immediately presses his wide sleeve over his work, obscuring the design from the curious eyes of their audience.

“I’m starting it now,” he warns.

Time feels a tug on his magic—much smaller than he was expecting. A song on his Ocarina might cost him the same amount. The pain in his eye and then his arm ebbs away, pulled somewhere by the spell, and the dampness on his face ashes off right off, as promised. Time raises a hand to scratch at the lingering itch even as he opens his eyes.

“I still don’t see why-” he begins. Stops.

Phantom turns away swiftly, but the boy is standing too close to hope to hide the bruising on his face. Bruising he did not have before.

Time seizes the boy by the arm before he can flee. He drops that arm just as quickly when Phantom yelps in pain, registering too late that it’s the same arm Time himself had just had broken—had just had healed.

“What have you done,” he hears himself ask, even though he already knows.

Phantom rocks back on his heels, trying for nonchalance and failing badly at it. “This isn’t something I plan to do often,” he huffs, refusing to look Time—or anyone—in the eye. Time clenches his jaw hard enough for his teeth to creak. “You can suffer from your own mistakes. But if you’re gonna take a blow meant for me, again-”

“This isn’t happening again,” Time cuts in, cold down to his bones. He needs to nip this in the bud, right now, or it'll only get worse as their battles grow harsher. “I forbid it.”

Phantom gets a mulish look on his face. Time feels his horror mount as the younger hero growls, “Just try and stop me.”

Time grabs the kid by the shoulder—the uninjured one this time. What does he need to do to make the boy see sense? “Do not use that spell again, Phantom.”

“Let go of me,” Phantom snarls, futilely trying to claw his way out of the older man’s grip. Unfortunately, Time doesn’t think he could make his own fingers loosen if he tried. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. Don't pretend you wouldn't do the exact same thing if literally anyone got so much as a scratch on them."

"That's-" different, he almost says, but he recognizes that it would be exactly the wrong thing to say right now. He deflates ever so slightly, just enough for Phantom to rip himself free and start rubbing at his arm, shaking faintly. A distant part of himself remembers the boy's issues with touch guiltily. "What made you think that was remotely acceptable? Why do you even know a spell like that?" He demands, side-stepping the accusation with what little grace he can scrounge up in his rattled state.

In his own display of blatantly dodging around a topic, Phantom looks away and snaps, "Gee, I wonder why Ganondorf would possibly know a spell that let him pass off wounds to hapless victims. Such a mystery for the ages."

The silence is deafening. Too late, Phantom snaps his mouth shut, realizing he's said too much.

"Are you saying you used a fucking torture spell on yourself-" someone begins.

"Why in the world would you even-?"

"Are you actually out of your mind-!?"

"When I said 'thank him' this is not what I meant-!"

"We're not all this bad, are we? It's just the two of them?" Warriors groans loudly, looking pained. At his words, Twilight whips around just in time to catch sight of the terrifyingly thoughtful look on Wild's face.

"Cub, don't you even think about it-!"

"ENOUGH!"

The bellow comes from, surprisingly, Hyrule. The boy scowls at them all disapprovingly.

"Wild, dinner's burning," he starts, very evenly. The aforementioned hero takes the chance to duck his mentor's fretful clutches, scampering over to the fire.

"Phantom, congratulations, your arm's broken," the wandering hero continues, voice more than dry enough to make up for his homeland's lack of a Gerudo desert. "That means I'll be working on you instead of our leader. Do not-" he interrupts preemptively, jabbing a finger forward and speaking over the boy's attempts to protest. "Just. Don't. We're out of potions, and that means I look over everyone that gets hurt. I'd be looking at that arm if you'd gotten your injury naturally. I'd be looking over Time right now if you'd been a bit less hasty with your ritual. And I think we'd all prefer it if you didn't use that spell again, or teach anyone how to do it."

A glance around the clearing reveals a show of nods, no one disputing Hyrule's words.

Phantom tries to cross his arms before dropping them with a wince. "You can't actually stop me," he sulks at them all. The pout really brings out the bruising on his face.

"It would be hard to, yeah," Sky agrees, soothing. "But it should be fine if there's no need for you to use it, right? Because Time," he shoots a Look at their stoic leader, "isn't going to do something reckless like throw himself in front of a monster with no shield again, right?"

Time grimaces faintly. "I'll try," he promises, which—from the looks on his companions' faces—isn't nearly good enough. But they all recognize that it's entirely honest, and the best they're going to get out of him tonight.

So ends the incident; they let the matter lie there, awkward and ignorable, and move onward with their evening.

OMAKE:

Phantom corners Twilight during his watch shift.

"Tell me you have blackmail on that idiot," he hisses. His request comes out like an order.

There's no need for their youngest to clarify who he means. The rancher pats the kid on the head, just once, like he thinks Phantom's cute but also knows he bites. "I'm not giving you blackmail on Time," he replies cheerfully. The younger hero has far too much influence on the man already. "You'll use it for evil, which I'm afraid goes against my personal code of honor. So sorry."

Phantom narrows his eyes, letting the needling slide entirely. "So you do have dirt on him," he divines.

Twilight rolls his eyes. "Leave him alone, brat. Do we need to have this talk again? Quit tormenting him."

"I'm not. Blackmailing him into self-care will only be good for him, promise."

"You can't honestly think that'll work." A pause. "Or that we haven't tried it already. It doesn't work."

"Bet you I could do it." Phantom's eyes have that disturbingly obsessive gleam in them again. "Bet you I've thought of something you haven't."

"Uh huh. And what would that be."

"All have to do is threaten to snitch on him." The boy's grin widens mischievously. "To you."

"..."

"Come on, think of it," the sailor wheedles. "He hates you fusing over him. It's why you never give me those don't-touch-my-almost-dad talks while he's still in earshot, yeah?"

Twilight's face does a funny little twitch.

"I know it, you know it, and I'd bet good money the others know it too," Phantom presses on. "How much more self-preservation do you think we could squeeze out of him if we pretend that the alternative is me giving you more reasons to shoot him worried looks all day and do that hovering thing you like to do?"

The older hero appears to consider this seriously for a long, long moment. Phantom leans in, eyes wide and imploring.

"...Nope. Still not telling you anything." Twilight tries to keep his face stern, even as a traitorous twitch pulls at the corner of his mouth. "You're not going to trick free blackmail out of me that easily."

The boy deflates. "Screw you," he grumbles. "It would've worked. I know it would've worked."

Twilight ruffles the grumpy kid's hair. "It was a nice try," he offers, and accepts the kick to the knee he gets in return as his due.

(In his bedroll across the clearing, pretending to be asleep, Time feels something tight and anxious in his chest finally begin to relax. He's nearly giddy with the sheer relief of his epiphany.

That's how he'll keep Phantom from pulling stunts this stupid again. Tell Tetra.)

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Random IshiMondo Story Prompt Response

Hi guys!!! So! This!!! Uh… the short of it is that a few months ago, I got an ask about an AU where Taka (who in this AU is the son of a police chief) gets kidnapped by the Crazy Diamonds as a present for Mondo’s 21st birthday. Taka was taken a month before and has been beaten, bound, and starved, and is all around unhappy and in a bad place. He feels that he deserves it. When Mondo is presented with Taka, however, he gets freaked and goes to “interrogate” Taka and they talk, it’s cute, and all ends well.

When I first got the request, I was very uncertain if I could fulfill this request, since I’m not a big fan of torture fics and this was just… it had big torture feels to me. However, I got an idea for it and I posted about it. The person who originally sent me the ask asked to see my idea, and I began writing it out. I thought it would be short, just a quick detail of the idea, but… well. Y’all know me. I don’t know what the word “short” means. So… uh, here’s a 25k word write up of the idea. It’s not quite a fic, since there’s very little actual dialogue in quotes, but it goes entirely through the story, with details and things like that, so… I guess it’s kind of a fic in its own right??? I legit don’t know, ha. I just wrote it and I feel so bad for taking so long without replying to that anon. So, if you’re still here anon, this one’s for you! And if not, then I hope other people like it too. I made a few changes to the initial request that I mention in the story, such as it being Mondo’s 20th birthday, not his 21st, and Taka only being taken for a couple of days, not a month.

Anyway! I hope y’all enjoy! :-D I’m excited to finally post this! It was collecting dust in my notes for AGES before I got around to finishing it. And I like how it turned out! It’s not perfect, but it’s something. And it’s prolly the fluffiest thing I’ve written, which is ironic considering the prompt, ha.

(Also, the anon asked for the fic to not be super mature, so I censored Mondo's curses. I couldn't NOT have Mondo curse, but I could censor them. So that's why it's like that, ha.)

(Read more added to not completely break your dashboard, ha.)

~~~~~

The fic starts with Mondo’s POV. It’s late afternoon slash early evening the day of his birthday. Mondo is in a bit of a funk, since he is turning 20 (not 21, since in Japan the 21st birthday isn’t really anything special. 20, however, is super important as it is the day they come of age and are allowed to legally drink) and is now legally an adult, and yet he is still leading his gang. Many of the original members have left, including Michi, and many others are getting too old to really stay in a biker gang for too much longer, and he doesn’t quite know where he fits anymore. However, he doesn’t know what else he could do. He’s a biker, so it’s not like he has much of an education or job experience other than being a biker… not to mention that Daiya’s dying wish was for him to keep the gang together and running, and he’s not sure when it’s “okay” for him to stop doing that. It all is eating at him, and he is very anxious over the idea of his future. He’s drinking a bit but isn’t quite drunk. He knows his gang is planning a party for him in an hour, though, which he is looking forward to. His gang is the closest thing to a family he has, so he is glad they care enough about him to want to throw him a party. He also knows that they have a surprise for him, which they said would help cure him of his blues, which of course they’ve noticed since Mondo is the least subtle person outside of Taka.

Eventually Mondo gets a call from his gang to head to their main hideout, so he heads out on his motorcycle, kind of excited to see what they have in store for him.

~

The POV then switches to Taka. Taka is bound, blindfolded (bag over his head), and gagged in a small, cold, smelly room. He is dehydrated and is very hungry and has no idea what time it is. It gets revealed that Taka was jumped two days prior (not a month, since I just… could not do that to Taka, sorry. Also, I’m fairly certain Takaaki would move heaven and earth to find his missing son, so… yeah) and was beaten pretty badly as he was walking home. He has a broken nose, bruised, possibly broken ribs, a black eye, and a small cut along his throat (from when he was kidnapped and he tried to escape, so the gang put a knife under his throat). He also has rope burns on his wrists from where the rope has dug into them. All in all, not fun, but nothing permanent and nothing that won’t heal. He has a small mat to sleep on, which he is thankful for, but he doesn’t know much about what is in his room, since he can’t see it.

Taka had not gotten a good look at his assailants when he was taken, so he has no idea they are The Crazy Diamonds, or even that they are a motorcycle gang (I imagine they’d use a van when kidnapping someone? I don’t know, ha), and he figures it’s probably someone who objects to his grandfather and thinks that he probably deserves what is happening to him. He has hope that he will be let go, but part of him fears that he will not.

Taka’s thoughts get interrupted when some gangsters enter his small room, grabbing him and manhandling him. This is not unusual, since they have been allowing him to use the toilet every so often, so he’s not super confused at first. However, he gets concerned when they don’t take him out of the room and instead start stripping him. Taka gets super freaked out and tries to fight them off, but he’s so weak and beaten down that he barely budges them at all. They laugh at him and tell him that they’re just changing him out of his dirty clothes, since he’s hardly presentable as is. Taka reluctantly stops fighting— partially since he doesn’t like how disgusting he currently is, partially because he realizes how futile it is— and is a bit surprised to find they do exactly as they say. They don’t change his underwear, to his private relief, but they put him into some other outfit that is very different from his usual white suit and tie. It’s a soft t-shirt that dips low on his chest and a pair of tight jeans. It isn’t really comfortable, but it is better than being in his ruined suit, he guesses. The gangsters leave then, laughing and joking about the party, but Taka doesn’t understand what they mean. As Taka is left alone, he is again left to wonder if he’ll be allowed to leave soon. Or ever…

~

The POV switches back to Mondo. He is sitting in his hideout, drinking a beer, smirking as his gang tells stories about Mondo’s greatest achievements. It feels bittersweet to him, though, with the doubts and everything he’s been having. He tries to get into it, but he knows that the gang knows he’s not really feeling it. After a little while, the stories trail off and Mondo’s new second in command (a young upstart OC who Mondo has been personally training, kind of like how Daiya trained him) brings up the surprise they have for Mondo, the gang getting excited about it. Mondo finds his curiosity piqued and tells them to get on with it. Excited, a few gangsters leave to grab their ‘surprise,’ while Mondo stays behind, wondering about it.

~

Taka gets jolted out of a light doze when the door bursts open and the gang members burst in, grabbing him roughly. Taka goes along placidly, thinking they are probably taking him to the bathroom again, or something like that. However, he notices that they are taking him down a different path than they usually do, which makes his fear spike, wondering what they are going to do to him now. His ribs and other injuries are hurting a lot, but he does his best to not make a sound, not wanting to get hurt anymore.

Eventually he is led through a door and is assaulted by noise, loud voices jeering at him and boisterous laughter, which freaks him out even more. He begins to struggle then, unable to help it, but it is useless as the gangsters are so much stronger, especially with how weak Taka currently is. They just laugh at him and keep pulling him along.

Eventually they reach wherever it is they are taking him, as they throw him down onto the ground, his knees hitting the concrete harshly, jarring his ribs enough to make him let out his first noise of pain. It shames him, but he gets distracted when he hears a loud inhale of breath, followed by a loud and brash voice asking, “what the absolute f*ck is this sh*t?!”

This leads to a bit of stammering from the gangsters, one of them explaining that it’s supposed to be a present for him, but the person gets cut off by a dangerous sounding growl. The room goes silent, then, for a few moments. Then the same voice from earlier— the loud and brash one— demands they remove the bag over his head. Taka barely has a moment to comprehend what is going on before he is being assaulted by light, his eyes unable to handle it as he blinks, trying to get used to the abrupt change in light.

Once the spots in his vision clear, he is able to look ahead of him, where he had heard a quick inhale of breath a few moments before. He sees legs, dressed in loose black pants with white loafers on the person’s feet. He lifts his eyes a bit more and can make out a black leather duster with designs on it and a white tank top overtop a highly muscular chest. His eyes linger for a moment, before he looks up the rest of the way, eyes intent as they meet what Taka assumes must be the instigator of his capture, his heart racing with fear. And when his eyes meet wide lavender, the most beautiful color he has ever seen, well…

But such feelings are highly inappropriate and improper, given the circumstances, so he hastily pushes them away. For the most part…

Though he can’t escape the feeling that something about this man is oddly familiar to him...

~

Mondo looks down at the kid before him, his blood frozen and his mind completely blank. He can’t really comprehend what he is seeing. He knows that most members of his gang aren’t that bothered by violence, knows that he himself certainly isn’t, but something about seeing this young boy (whom he assumes can’t be older than 16, he looks so youthful even despite the dark bruises upon his face) so roughed up makes his insides squirm and anger rise within him. He does his best to curb it, though, knowing it would just make his gang doubt his ability to lead them if he gets uppity about things like this, but it’s hard. The boy’s face is so messed up he can’t quite tell who he is, but he has the niggling feeling that he is familiar, though he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Throughout his musing, Mondo has been staring at the boy, absently taking in his busted features. The boy’s eyes, however, hold his attention the most, though he tries to avoid them the best he can, hating how resigned and afraid they look. But he can’t quite help it, and when he looks back at the boy unbidden, he is shocked to see the kid looking directly at him, making him feel very strange inside. They continue to stare at one another for several long moments, until his second in command clears his throat awkwardly, forcing Mondo to look over at him, his anger rising again, though he fights against it. Again.

Mondo demands once more to know the meaning of this, and the second in command (SIC) explains quickly that it was a present, explaining that they had wanted to help Mondo feel ‘like himself again,’ so they had gotten him someone to help him remember what it’s like to be a big, bad, biker gang leader. The SIC pauses for a minute, clearly wanting to drive up the drama, before dramatically revealing that the boy is none other than Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the son of Chief Takaaki Ishimaru, the bothersome chief of police who has been on their tail for months now. The SIC explains hesitantly that Mondo had mentioned a couple weeks prior how he wanted to beat the punk up after seeing a picture of him and his father in the news, explaining that the gang had come up with the plan not long after, wanting to give their leader what he truly wanted.

It’s around then that Mondo realizes why the kid is so familiar looking, dread filling his stomach. He had come across a picture of the boy and his father in the paper a few weeks before, after the police chief had been given an honor or something for his bravery.

His eyes had lingered on the kid, though, tracing over his features in a way he knows means he was feeling interested. Mondo has known he was bi for years at that point, and though he rarely pursues men romantically or sexually, he has done it a couple times and he knows he definitely has interest in both men and women. His gang knows this and is fine with it, but it still sometimes embarrasses him to talk about it, especially when his eye is caught by someone who is decidedly not the type of person that a biker gang leader should ever look twice at, like that kid. So, when his gang had caught him staring at the picture for a bit too long, he had panicked and aggressively said that he was infuriated by the “goody-toe-shoe’s” pretentious look, saying he wanted nothing more than to beat the ever-loving sh*t out of the dude.

He hadn’t thought they’d actually do anything about it, though. He certainly hadn’t thought that they would, you know… kidnapthe dude. Who, he realizes, is actually older than he’d first thought, since he had recalled reading that the was home on break from university, the article saying he was 19. It makes him feel weird inside to think about, knowing that they aren’t that far off in age from one another.

However… however, as he sees the expectant looks on his gang’s faces, all of them expecting him to be happy about what they’ve done, he realizes that he’s kind of trapped. If he rejects their ‘gift’ and yells at them, then they will know he was lying when he said he wanted to beat up the kid. He also realizes that they’ve not really done anything against his rules. Well... kind of. Technically, given his position as son of the police chief, the boy is fair game for them to brutalize. After all, he’s not really an ‘innocent,’ now, is he? Mondo shouldn’t feel any problem about beating the kid, honestly, it’s not like he really knows him. And while he definitely doesn’twant to do that, for reasons he doesn’t understand, he knows that he probably should. The gang expects that he will and if he doesn’t... well.

So... he pushes down the vague nausea rising within him and forces a smirk on his face. He knows he isn’t the best liar, but he knows that the members of his gang aren’t exactly the smartest or most observant dudes, so he figures it’s fine. He then laughs and nods, saying how he recalls that now, thanking his gang for their thoughtfulness. He doesn’t (can’t) look at the kid as he says it, fearing what look he would have on his face.

Then... then Mondo asks if he could have some privacy to “talk with” the kid, smirking the whole while. Despite how he’s still not looking at him, he can see the kid shrink down in fear in the corner of his eye, making the twisting in his gut even worse. But he can’t stop, so he just keeps smirking as the gang cheers, happy that their ‘gift’ was well received.

Mondo has the same gangsters as before grab the boy and drag him to his private quarters at the hideout. They put the bag back on, to prevent him from being able to see their hideout, and while it makes Mondo distinctly uncomfortable— hating how it makes the boy thrash weakly, soft mewls of fear being released from his lips— he says nothing as he trails after them, fighting hard to keep the lazy smirk on his face. It’s hard, but he somehow manages.

As they all reach Mondo’s private quarters, Mondo has a moment to wonder what the f*ck is going to happen next.

~

Taka is terrified. Taka has been scared this entire time, but now the fear has reached its paramount, his heart racing so fast and angry in his chest. Something about the lavender eyed man has made him feel very afraid, especially once he realizes why, exactly, he knows him.

He is Mondo Owada, leader of the biggest biker gang in Japan, and he is definitely a man to be feared. He’s heard everything about him from his father, who has been very annoyed and angry at the biker gang for the vandalism and crime they get up to, and he knows that the man has a fearsome temper and a notorious desire for violence. And now he knows that he had been kidnapped by the gang to be a ‘present’ for their leader, which is a terrifying thought to Taka. He knows all about the kind of things cruel criminals will do to other people, having heard many horrific tales from his father. And while he does his best to not let his fear consume him, it’s hard not to. Especially considering how he is apparently being led to the leader’s private chambers, which he knows never means anything good. Best case, he will just be beaten harshly again. Worst case... well. Taka may be naïve, but even he isn’t thatnaïve. Unfortunately…

Eventually they come to a halt, though, and he hears the sound of a door opening. Taka somehow gets even more afraid, then, and begins thrashing again, more desperate than the last time, finally letting go of his pride enough to beg the gangsters to let him go. He can feel tears falling down his face, knows that his voice is wavering horribly, but he cannot stop it. He wants to go home. He misses his father, and his small room in his father’s run down but nicer than when he’d been a child apartment, and his nice clean suits, and... and all of it. He doesn’t know if he’s even intelligible or not, but he can do nothing to stop the words and the thrashing, even as his arms gets twisted painfully behind him.

Taka only stops when he hears a low growl before him, followed quickly by the feel of something brushing his side. He lets out a yelp of fear, terrified the leader will harm him, but... but the hand on his side doesn’t do anything other than rest there, softer than he expected, almost gentle. He can feel the tension in the hand, though, and something about it makes his heart race. From fear, of course...

The leader begins to talk then, warning him lowly to behave or things would get worse for him, and while it sounds angry and cruel on the surface, Taka... Taka can detect a hint of something else beneath the words. Something... worried. It confuses Taka, especially since he usually doesn’t pick up on things like that, but he decides to accept it at face value, too tried and weak to keep fighting anyway. With a defeated nod, he hunches his shoulders as he gets marched into the room without a word more, hating the snickers he hears sound behind him.

Taka gets thrown to the ground again, then, his knees really starting to hurt from the rough treatment, not to mention how awful his ribs feel. He doesn’t think his ribs are broken, but he can tell that they are at least badly bruised. And he knows worse is yet to come when he hears the leader tell his gang members to leave them alone and not hang around to listen, claiming he wants complete privacy. It makes him shake uncontrollably to hear, a soft keen escaping his lips without his consent. More snickers rise, but then he hears footsteps retreating from him, letting him know that at least there won’t be an audience for what is about to happen to him. He honestly doesn’t know if that is better or not.

The tears fall harder when he hears the door click shut, his body shaking with silent sobs. After a moment of silence, he hears more footsteps, these ones quieter than he would have expected, considering who he knows they belong to. He wants to start begging again, pleading that he just wants to go home, but his throat is so thick that he can’t seem to manage it. All he can do is cringe back to make himself as small as possible and hope to any god who is listening that he somehow makes it out of this somewhat intact. Please...

He flinches when he hears someone kneel down beside him, his breath growing shakier and more ragged, the tears streaming down his face uncomfortably under the bag that is still over his head. There is a beat of silence between them, and then-

“Hey. Uh... know y’ain’t got any reason ta believe me, but, uh... I ain’t gonna hurt ya, okay? Just... sh*t. F*ck... I’m gonna take the bag off yer head now, okay? Don’t f*ckin’ try an’ head butt me or anythin’... sh*t.”

The words are far softer than he had ever expected, causing some dissonance to rise within him as his expectation wars with reality. Part of him wants to believe the man before him, but... well. Taka is no fool.

Before he can try and rationalize anything, he feels the bag get tugged off his head, gentler this time than the last. He can feel his anxiety and fear spike when he feels cool air hit his face, but when he opens his eyes and looks ahead of him at the man before him, he feels his heart freeze when his eyes meet lavender.

He thinks about how they are still so incredibly beautiful, more so now that they are looking at him softly, concern and a simmering anger roiling within them. The anger makes him feel afraid, but part of him thinks that perhaps the anger isn’t directed at him. He knows the thought is foolish, but perhaps...

The man before him starts talking then, making a comment about how messed up his face looks. Taka flushes and looks away, feeling oddly ashamed, but he feels gentle fingers turn his face back, his eyes immediately landing on soft lavender again. He has no idea how to read the eyes before him, he’s never been good at reading other people’s emotions, but he... he doesn’t think it’s bad. Or... he hopes not...

After a beat of time, the man looks away, down towards his body. It makes him feel nervous again, but before it has a chance to turn into fear, the man is talking, saying that he’s going to cut the rope around his wrists, but that Taka has to promise him that he won’t try and fight him if he does. He says that he doesn’t want to hurt him, but that he can’t just let him cause a scene, and if Taka fights, he will be forced to fight back.

After a long moment of internal debate, Taka nods and promises that he won’t, his voice shaking and weak, but loud enough for the man to hear him. The man nods tersely, before reaching for a switch blade from his pocket, which makes Taka panic despite himself, his body automatically cringing away in fear. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just an automatic fight or flight response.

The man shushes him, his hands gentle on him again as he does his best to soothe. He then repeats that he isn’t going to harm him, he promises. He goes on and explains that it’s a man’s promise and that his brother always taught him that promises between men are the most important promises a man can make, and that you can’t ever break something like that. While Taka has no reason to believe the man, he... he is surprised to realize that he does. And so, he nods again, shifting into a seated position, angling his body to allow the man access to his wrists. He mutters an absent apology, to which the man snorts, replying that he gets it, don’t worry about it.

The man cuts the rope carefully, then, Taka super tense the entire time, waiting for the punchline and for the man to abruptly change temperament and start hurting him, laughing at his naivety for believing him. He is expecting this so much that when the man pulls back and puts his knife carefully away into his pocket, studying him closely, Taka doesn’t realize it for a few seconds. And when he does... he can’t help but blink, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips frowning.

Not liking the way that the man is staring at him— uncomfortable more for the gentleness and concern he sees than out of fear— he lifts his arms from behind his back and looks at the red and raw wounds around his wrists, dried blood mingling with fresh blood, making him wince. It hurts quite a lot, but considering how much pain he is in overall, it barely registers, honestly.

His breath leaves him entirely a second later, though, when he feels strong yet still so utterly gentle hands grab his, cradling them oh so tenderly within their warm and tender embrace. It makes his cheeks flush bright red, the sensation making him a little lightheaded and dizzy, even more so when his eyes automatically seek out lavender, shivering when their eyes meet. The man smiles at him, then, a small and crooked thing, but Taka privately believes it may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The thought concerns him, but not enough to make him berate himself. As confused as he feels, he finds he prefers this than being beaten, thanks ever so.

The man begins talking again, then, saying how he sure has been hurt a lot, his voice low and rumbling, full of concern. It makes Taka flush with embarrassment, oddly ashamed at his state, like it was his fault or something. He apologizes softly, unsure what the man expects from him.

The man hums in discontent, though, shaking his head, before explaining that he’s not blaming him, don’t worry. He then goes on to ask if Taka would want him to dress the wounds, saying he has some first aid supplies and things like that. That makes Taka blush again, but he realizes that that might be for the best. He nods his head slowly, still afraid, but growing more used to this as time passes. He’s still waiting for the shoe to drop, for the man to suddenly decide to hurt him, fearing that the biker is just lulling him into a false sense of security before harming him worse than ever before, but... well. Taka has always been a trusting person by nature, so he can’t help his body’s natural inclination to trust the man.

The man leaves then for a little while, though Taka can hear him shuffling around in a small room attached to the one he’s in, which he assumes must be a bathroom. He takes the time to observe his surroundings, realizing that he’s in a fairly nice and spacious bedroom. It has a queen size bed along the back wall near the center, with a couple nightstands on either side. There is a large banner for the Crazy Diamonds that takes up half of the back wall, with other smaller decorations littering the other walls. There is a table and a small TV set, a couch and armchair, things like that. Taka thinks it looks kind of nice, maybe even a little cozy, even with the harsh and cold concrete floor and walls. The lighting is kept low, too, which Taka appreciates as he realizes his head is aching softly, the dehydration and hunger getting to him. Not to mention the blood loss...

He doesn’t get to dwell on this long before the man is back, carrying a large kit of first aid supplies. Taka realizes he must have a look of surprise on his face when the man smirks at him, snickering softly. The man then explains that he’s a biker, of course he has an extensive first aid kit in his room, duh. The words are oddly teasing, which makes Taka blush again, averting his eyes shyly.

He jolts a little when he feels gentle fingers touch him again, but he settles a lot quicker than before, offering the man a shaky smile when he sees the concern in the lavender eyes again. The man clears his throat awkwardly then and says that he’s going to start dressing the wounds, warning Taka that it’s going to hurt. Taka knows this, has dressed enough of his own wounds during his lifetime, and nods his head tightly as he grits his teeth in anticipation.

Despite the sting that comes from the antiseptic that the man uses, Taka doesn’t actually feel the pain all that much as the man gently cleans off his wrists first, not with how gentle the man is going. The man works in silence for a moment, before he begins talking, introducing himself formally at last. While Taka had obviously known his name, he finds himself able to think of the man by his first name for the first time.

Mondo asks for his name, then, even though Taka knows he must know it, considering that his gang had said it earlier. But the conversation helps distract from the stinging of the antiseptic, so he hesitantly replies, saying his name. He then, for reasons he doesn’t know, says that Mondo could call him ‘Taka,’ if he’d like. Taka does not get called that often by people, even if he privately calls himself it, but something about hearing Mondo say the nickname his mother gave him is oddly alluring to him, his stomach clenching with knots as a pleasant heat rises within him.

Despite what people often say about him, Taka knows that he is no fool. And as such, he dimly understands what it is he is currently feeling for the man before him. He does his best to rationalize it away, telling himself that it’s just a reaction to the stressful situation, that he’s just responding to the biker’s apparent kindness after so much cruelty, that it’s nothing more than that. Taka knows that he is gay, has known this for some time, but he knows that what he currently is feeling is not real, that it is manufactured based on the situation. Stockholm Syndrome, he tells himself. Nothing more.

Still, it’s hard to ignore how his stomach churns as Mondo gently tends to his wounds, the biker letting out soft comments here and there, asking him questions every so often when the pain gets really bad. Questions about his life, what he’s studying in uni, what career he wants, if he has a girlfriend... things like that. The personal questions make him blush, and while he knows he probably shouldn’t be telling these things to a biker gang leader, he can’t help how he replies honestly. He’s always been an open person, after all. He says that he’s studying political science, since he wants to become Prime Minister one day. He blushes when he says that he has no girlfriend, blushes harder when he accidentally lets slip that he has no friends in general, either.

That makes Mondo pause, the biker staring at him with wide eyes, asking him why not. The question embarrasses Taka, but he again answers truthfully, stammering about how he’s always been very bad at conversation, that he can’t ever manage to hold one for longer than a few minutes without boring or annoying his conversation partner. He also explains a little about his grandfather, embarrassed yet again.

Mondo doesn’t get mad at him, though, like he fears. He just hums thoughtfully, eyes glazed as he thinks about something, before he blurts out that he thinks Taka is pretty good at conversation, mumbling that he likes talking to him. It makes Taka blush bright red again, but he feels some comfort in the fact that Mondo is blushing just as bright too. Taka stammers out a shaky thanks, the words hanging in the air as they both stare awkwardly at the ground, the dorks unable to handle the Emotion.

After an awkward moment passes, Mondo clears his throat and continues dressing the wounds, having just finished wrapping Taka’s torso with a lot of gauze to help with the bruising. Mondo had mentioned that he didn’t think the ribs were broken, just sprained, but that the gauze should help the bruising feel a little better. With that done, Mondo moves onto Taka’s face, wincing a little as he sees the dark bruising and the broken nose.

Apologizing softly, Mondo asks if he can set his nose so it will heal straight. It’s been a couple days since the injury, so doing so might risk breaking it again, he explains. Taka thinks about that for a second, biting his lip gently, before nodding, not looking forward to the pain but knowing that it will likely be better in the long run. Mondo apologizes again, soft and awkward, before gently grabbing his nose and setting it as quick as he can.

It still hurts quite a lot, and Taka cannot help the whimper of pain he gives, tears rising to his eyes and falling quick, stinging the small cuts all along his cheeks. To his intense surprise, he feels a warm hand cup his cheek, a soothing thumb coming up to gently wipe the tears away. He hears Mondo shush him softly again, muttering quietly that it’s okay. That Taka is okay.

Taka feels his heart beat fast again at the action, his cheeks flushed uncomfortably, but also very pleasantly. He has never felt like this for anyone before, and it concerns him a little. It concerns him more for how little it concerns him, though, to be honest.

Mondo seems to realize what he’s doing then, pulling back abruptly with bright red cheeks and an awkward grimace on his face. He doesn’t storm off, though, and instead goes back to setting his nose, putting a nose splint on it to keep it in place. He apologizes for not having any ice, saying that it’s in the kitchen area but that he can’t head out to grab it just then. He promises that he will soon, though. Taka finds it sweet and smiles shakily at him, thanking him once more. His thanks seems to embarrass Mondo more, and Taka is coming to find that he really adores the shade of pink Mondo’s cheeks turn when he’s embarrassed. But that line of thinking is very dangerous, so he curbs it immediately. Or he tries to...

They continue chatting awkwardly after that, Mondo asking questions and Taka answering. It becomes easier as time goes on, and soon Mondo is chuckling at some of the things Taka says, much to Taka’s professed annoyance. Truthfully, Taka couldn’t care less, since the sound of Mondo’s laughter is very alluring to him. Not that he allows himself to think that, of course.

Before long, all of Taka’s wounds are dressed and cared for, his body bruised and aching, but no longer in intense pain. Mondo helps him get back into the shirt but pauses as he watches him struggle to get back into the jeans (which Mondo had removed with bright red cheeks to get a couple wounds on Taka’s thighs), confused when Taka absently mentions how much he hates jeans and things like that. Mondo asks why he’s wearing them if he hates them, and Taka confusedly explains that Mondo’s gang had dressed him in the outfit earlier, to make him look more presentable. The words seem to anger Mondo, and Taka is shocked to realize that he doesn’t really feel afraid. Not when he recognizes that Mondo isn’t angry at him, per se. That gives him pause, but he pushes it aside again, realizing it’s futile to think about.

Mondo stands up and strides away from him, then, much to Taka’s confusion. Unable to stop himself, he asks where the biker is going, blinking when he sees him stop in front of a dresser. Mondo doesn’t reply as he shifts through it, seeming to be looking for something. The biker lets out a soft noise of triumph after a moment and pulls something out, something Taka cannot see from his distance. As Mondo gets closer, however, he notices that he is holding a pair of old, worn sweatpants, which makes Taka blink.

Mondo explains that they are an old pair from when he’d been younger that he’d never gotten around to tossing even though they no longer fit, handing them to Taka with a soft blush. He explains quickly that he thought they’d be more comfortable than the jeans, and that they should fit him since they’re so old. The explanation oddly makes Taka blush, too, before looking away shyly again even as he takes the sweatpants with another soft thanks.

It’s hard for him to put the pants on with the multitude of injuries he has, so Mondo offers to help, which Taka agrees to with great embarrassment. Now that his wounds are all dressed and the pain has gone down, he is starting to register the feel of Mondo’s hands on his body and it is making him feel some very inappropriate things, he will tell you that! He tries to push it down, but he can’t stop how his body reacts, much to his intense mortification.

Luckily, Mondo doesn’t seem to notice and together they are able to get the pants on. Taka notes that they feel very, very soft, softer than anything he has ever worn before. They are slightly too big and slightly too long on him, but he kind of likes them even more for it.

It’s as he absently petting the soft material that he hears Mondo mutter at him, the words so quiet that it takes Taka a moment to register them. And, when he does, he blushes bright red again, since he realizes that Mondo had said— very awkwardly— that Taka could keep the pants if he wanted after this. Since, you know. It’s not like Mondo can wear them.

Taka tries to stammer out a rejection, saying that he couldn’t possibly accept such a nice gift, to which Mondo gives him a weird look. The look makes Taka anxious that he said something wrong, the feeling growing when Mondo states that it’s not really anything big, they’re just a pair of old sweatpants, it’s really not a big deal?

Taka feels awkward again, but again can’t help how he explains that he’s just never been given a gift before, not from anyone other than his father. It makes his insides squirm when he sees Mondo staring at him with wide eyes, but before it can get too uncomfortable, Mondo looks away, blushing softly again as he says again that it’s really nothing.

Before Taka can begin to compartmentalize the words, Mondo continues, his voice so low and mumbling Taka has to fight to understand him, but Taka... Taka swears he hears Mondo say that he deserves all the gifts in the world, really. Which just... makes everything worse for him, in all honesty.

The awkwardness rises between them, both men blushing brightly and looking anywhere but at the other for several long moments, nearing a full minute. Taka doesn’t like the awkwardness, wants to say something to break it, but he has no idea what, given how bad he always has been at conversing. Not to mention how utterly strange the circumstances are, really...

The silence gets broken finally by the sound of Taka’s stomach growling, to his intense mortification. He is glad that it seems to have broken the tension, at least, as Mondo is looking at him again, wry amusement dancing in his eyes as his lips smirk gently. He teases Taka about his growling stomach, which Taka realizes he doesn’t mind as much as he usually does when he gets taunted by someone. In fact... he almost likes the gentle teasing, finding the soft amusement dancing within Mondo’s eyes to be quite amazing.

Taka accidentally ruins the moment, though, when he absently mentions that it’s been days since he last ate, so he supposes it makes sense that his stomach was growling. He’d meant the words almost like a joke, but it of course fell flat, as Mondo stares at him with wide eyed horror, asking him bluntly what he means.

Nervous (and upset that he ruined the beautiful smile upon Mondo’s lips), Taka stammers about how he has not been given any food and very little water since he was taken a couple nights before, leaving him kind of hungry. He’s actually starving, but he does his best to downplay his plight, not wanting to be too much of a burden.

The reminder of why Taka is there seems to upset Mondo greatly, he notes with dismay, watching as any amusement dies immediately at his words, the simmering anger and upset rising in the lavender eyes as his hands clench into tight fists at his sides. Taka doesn’t feel afraid, though, as he realizes once more that the look isn’t directed at him, but instead... instead is at his gang. Taka almost doesn’t believe this, thinking that he must be deluding himself, but his assumption gets confirmed when he hears Mondo mutter that he’s going to “f*ckin’ kill those godd*mn b*st*rds.”

The words concern Taka greatly, and he is unable to stop himself from chastising Mondo, saying that violence is not ever the answer. Mondo gives him a strange look for that but doesn’t reply back. He just keeps scowling, his eyes averting immediately in what Taka thinks might be shame.

Mondo mutters out yet another apology, then, this one more emotive than the last few. Mondo continues and says that it’s his fault Taka is stuck here, his fault that he was harmed this way. If he had just never said anything about Taka in the first place, then none of this would ever have happened, making him the one to blame for this entire situation. Taka watches, his heart aching softly, as Mondo curls in on himself, looking miserable before him.

Before he can stop himself, he finds himself reaching out, touching Mondo’s shoulder gently, doing his best not to flinch back when Mondo jolts at the touch. He gets tongue tied when Mondo looks up at him with wide, unhappy eyes, but he quickly presses on, realizing then that he doesn’t want Mondo to beat himself up over what had happened. While some part of him is still afraid that this is all some very elaborate hoax to harm him even more in the end, the majority of him is starting to get used to the idea that this might be real. That Mondo might truly mean what he says.

The thought creates some cognitive dissonance inside him, since he has spent years listening to his father rant about biker gangs, the Crazy Diamonds and Mondo in particular, and it’s very strange to think that maybe Mondo isn’t all bad. But he decides to shove the thoughts away for now, knowing it’s unhelpful considering his current situation. Especially since he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he doesn’t like seeing Mondo look so miserable and that he would probably do just about anything to make the look go away...

He then awkwardly, but with as much enthusiasm as he can muster (which isn’t much by his standards but is a heck of a lot by anyone else’s), tells Mondo that he doesn’t blame him for what has happened. Not at all, really. He cannot say that it hasn’t been a very terrifying experience, one that he definitely cannot say he has enjoyed, but he assures Mondo that he doesn’t blame him in any way, shape, or form. It was just a tragic misunderstanding, Taka claims, thinking that he almost believes it himself with how confidently he says it. And when Mondo looks up at him, his eyes wide and searching, he does his best to keep his face as open and honest as possible, which isn’t very hard for him to do, honestly.

After a few moments, Mondo asks absently, dazedly, if he truly means that. In response, Taka nods enthusiastically, doing his best to hide the wince of pain the action causes within him. He then verbalizes his answer, saying that of course he means it, he always means everything he says. He even goes on to say how he is very grateful he has met Mondo, his cheeks blushing with his embarrassment as he praises the biker, saying how kind and caring he has been.

Mondo is also blushing, the soft pink he is coming to adore bright on his cheeks, his eyes soft as silk as they look at him steadily. Taka feels his heart beat fast as he stares at Mondo, part of him wondering what is currently going on. He has never felt this way, ever, and while he knows what it means, logically, he has no idea what it means, personally. Emotionally.

He has no idea what exactly it is he wants from this encounter, knowing that what he is feeling is impossible, especially considering who Mondo currently is and who Taka wishes so desperately to be. And yet, as the moments drag on and their eyes do not part, the charged energy around them growing more and more overbearing as the seconds pass, he starts to wonder if any of that truly matters. Mondo’s past and present, his own present and future. Does any of that truly matter when he feels as strongly as this? Or is this a lie, brought on by desperation and relief at having someone be kind to him after such horrible abuse? Can he trust what he is feeling at all? Does it matter? He doesn’t know, he has never felt more lost. All he knows is that when he’s looking at Mondo, he feels calmer and more in control than he ever has... ever, really. Which is ridiculous considering he has never been less in control in his life, but... but...

Before Taka can come to any form of conclusion, he both hears and feels his stomach rumble, his embarrassment rising as he finally breaks the eye contact, his heart pounding, and his breath shaky with all of the weird thoughts and emotions swirling around him. He hears Mondo stumble to his feet, and while his eyes want so desperately to look, he forces himself not to, keeping his eyes on the concrete floor. He is still sitting on the cold ground, but he finds he doesn’t mind it too much, as it is stabilizing in some ways. He sits in the awkward silence that has arisen for a very charged second, before Mondo breaks it soon after.

Mondo mumbles about how he should probably get Taka something to eat, and also some ice, asking him if he has any allergies or preferences or things like that. Taka shakes his head slowly, answering shakily that he doesn’t, and that he is fine with pretty much anything, thanks. Mondo stares at him for a second, before nodding and moving to head to the door. He pauses before he gets too far, his body swaying as he contemplates something. Before Taka can ask if he is alright, Mondo is turning back and muttering that Taka probably shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, asking haltingly if he’d like help moving to the couch before he leaves. Taka blushes, again, and thinks it likely would be wiser to say no, to not allow Mondo to get so close to him again. Besides, it’s not like the floor is that uncomfortable...

But, despite himself entirely, he finds himself nodding as quickly as he can, shaky smile rising on his lips as he stammers that that he would appreciate that, thanks. It makes his stomach clench to see the soft, decidedly pleased smile that rises on Mondo’s face as the biker nods and heads over to him slowly.

Once he’s standing tall over him, he pauses for a moment, seeming to be collecting himself. Taka appreciates this, as it allows him to also collect his own very scattered thoughts. Before he is able to though, Mondo is bending down slowly and is carefully reaching out for Taka, his voice low and muttering as he asks if it’s okay to touch him. Taka blushes yet again at the words (if he ever stopped blushing, of course) and nods once, quickly, smile brighter on his face as he verbally agrees. Mondo smiles brightly back, cheeks also flushed, as he gently moves forward, his hands reaching out to grab Taka. There’s an awkward moment when Taka wonders what Mondo is planning, but Mondo verbalizes his plan before implementing it, mumbling that he’s going to pick Taka up and carry him to the couch, to prevent any of the injuries from getting jolted too badly. This embarrasses Taka, and he stammers that he is pretty heavy, he’s sure he can walk himself, it’s fine.

This makes Mondo smirk, his eyes dancing with humor as the biker claims that he could lift Taka easily, since he routinely deadlifts 90 kilos (roughly 200 pounds), easy. This gives Taka some very inappropriate thoughts, which he forcefully shakes off as he smiles shakily, nodding his agreement with only mild hesitation. Mondo smiles warmly back, before returning to the task at hand, transcribing what he is doing to prevent Taka from freaking out. Taka appreciates it more than he can say, and as such he doesn’t even tense up at all when he feels warm, strong arms wrap around him and lift him gently bridal style, his body pressing wondrously to a warm and highly muscular chest. Taka has some more ~~inappropriate thoughts~~ that he has to firmly stow away as Mondo begins to walk to the couch, the biker so gentle and careful that he doesn’t feel any hint of pain whatsoever.

Being put down also doesn’t hurt, but he finds himself strangely not wanting the biker to let go of him, his heart racing as he feels oddly at home in Mondo’s arms. He reluctantly does let go, though, but he swears that Mondo, too, is letting his hands linger just a touch longer than they should as they slide out from under his body... but surely, he must be imagining things...

Right?

He doesn’t get any time to try and rationalize anything before Mondo is standing again, body angling to turn away. Before he leaves, though, he hesitates, and then... then he darts his hand out to trail gently across Taka’s forehead, tenderly brushing back the hair that has fallen messily into his eyes. Cheeks permanently stained red, he watches as Mondo stammers out a quick goodbye, promising that he’ll be right back and that no one else will dare enter the room, indicating that he will be safe here. His hand is still lingering along his cheek, though, which makes it very challenging for Taka to think.

But then the hand is gone, and Mondo is hastily exiting the room, gait awkward. Taka finds it strange that such a fearsome biker gang leader would ever act so awkward and fumbling, but he finds it strangely... cute. Which is definitely a word he’d never have thought to apply to a biker, but there they are!

As Taka sits alone by himself in the room, he wonders yet again what will happen next. Where this all will lead. If it will lead anywhere good, or if his trusting nature will be taken advantage of yet again.

He supposes only time will tell...

~

Mondo is freaking out. Like, full on internal panic, worse even than when he first realized he likes dudes as well as chicks. And it’s all that godd*mn kid’s fault.

If he had felt interested when he first saw the boy’s photo, he is full on infatuated now. He doesn’t even really know why, since Taka (as the boy had earnestly told him he could call him, good god) is definitely not his usual type. Not to mention it’s been less than an hour. But he’s just so... good. Kind. Nice. Things like that. Like... sh*t. Even after being beaten to an inch of his life and starved for almost two days, he still tried to console Mondo for feeling bad about it. Like... what the f*ck?! Who the hell does that?!

He’s also cute as all hell... the blush that seems permanently on his face is slowly driving Mondo insane, he swears to Christ. And his smile... d*mn, it’s so adorable! It should be a crime to be that adorable, Mondo swears.

The worst part of it all is that there is no universe in which Mondo would ever have a chance with the kid. Even discounting the fact that it’s entirely his fault the kid is in this situation, no matter what Taka may say, there’s also the fact that Mondo is literally a criminal. One that the kid’s father has made it his life’s mission to see rot in jail. A worse match could not possibly exist, dear god.

And yet... as he walks silently through his hideout— not quite hiding from his gang, but definitely not wanting to deal with them at the moment— he can’t help the way his heart races at the thought of the boy. Nor can he help how he wishes that- that they could... could...

But it’s stupid. And ridiculous. It would never work. And even if the kid feels anything similar to him at the moment— which is so doubtful, Jesus Christ— it would only be because of sh*t like... Stockholm Syndrome, or whatever it’s called. He’d just be latching onto the first kindness he’s been given after a traumatic event. It’s not real. It... it wouldn’t ever be real.

Mondo could never have something so nice.

Tired of the useless thoughts, Mondo pushes it all aside and enters the kitchen carefully, watchful to see if anyone is inside. When he sees that no one is, he enters easily and heads to the fridge, which is stocked with some party food that was put away after the official party ended earlier. He grabs some small sandwiches and some sushi and rice balls, uncertain what the kid would like. After a couple days without food, Mondo figures he probably should eat light, yeah? There isn’t any soup, but he does make sure to grab some seaweed salad and plain white rice, since that should be light enough if he can’t eat anything heavier. He also grabs some water and some juice, for the dehydration.

Finally, he opens the freezer and grabs a bunch of ice packs, knowing the kid has a ton of places that are injured. It’s too much for him to carry, so he grabs a plastic bag to put it all in, which makes it all easier to handle. As he’s looking in the freezer, he notices some frozen mochi in various flavors, which gives him pause. Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing it, rationalizing it by saying it can be a peace offering, a better apology than the absolute sh*t ones he’s been giving thus far. And if the kid can’t eat it, well, then he can. He f*cking loves mochi of all kinds, alright? Frozen mochi the best, even if it’s not traditional. It’s why the gang got so much of it.

Shaking off the weirdness inside him, he heads back to his room, still looking out for gang members. He almost gets caught once when some newer members pass by the hallway he is in, but luckily, they don’t see him, so he’s able to get back to his room (and Taka) without any incident.

He does pause for an extended moment outside the room, his heart racing strangely in his chest, in a way it never has before. Mondo has had crushes on people before, on both dudes and chicks, but somehow this feels different. Maybe it’s the situation, maybe it’s something else entirely, but something about the kid makes Mondo feel so much inside. He doesn’t think he’s blushed so much around a single person since he was fourteen and his bro caught him jacking off and refused to stop teasing him about it for weeks. But this feels so very different from then, it’s laughable to compare the two.

But he can’t loiter outside his own room forever, so he takes a deep breath and knocks softly, not wanting to startle the kid without warning, before he enters. As he does, he realizes that he hadn’t bothered to tie the kid up before he left, so he has a moment to panic that the kid had escaped while he’d been out. It would honestly be the most logical thing to do, godd*mn. And... and while he can’t deny the rush of absolute disappointmentat the thought, he realizes he wouldn’t be able to blame the kid if he did use the time to make his escape. After all, it’s not like he owes Mondo anything, dear god. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that this makes the most sense and— while it does hurt something deep inside him— he resolves to not let it break him when the door fully opens and he doesn’t see the kid.

He is expecting this so much that once the door is fully open and his eyes carelessly dart across the familiar room, he almost doesn’t register that Taka is still sitting on the couch where he’d left him, still as a statue. He blinks owlishly at the kid as Taka turns to face him, his own eyes wide. Heat flares within him when he sees the startled, almost afraidlook on the youthful face morph quickly into a bright and happy smile, the kid greeting him happily. Like... like they’re old friends or something...

It’s only when the kid tilts his head and gives him a questioning look that he realizes he’s been staring for a little too long. His cheeks bright red (like a f*cking schoolgirl, dear god), he hastily enters the room and places the bag down on the coffee table before the couch. He pauses when he hears the kid absently mutter about how plastic bags are bad for the environment, and how Mondo shouldn’t use them. He can’t stop the incredulous look he gives the boy, but Taka doesn’t seem to even notice it, as focused as he is on the contents of the bag.

That jolts Mondo into action as he begins to remove the various foods from the bag, as well as the ice. He leaves the mochi, though. Just... for now, he tells himself.

He explains to the kid that he wasn’t sure what he would like or what he could handle, so he got a bit of everything, to be safe. Taka doesn’t seem upset as he beams at Mondo, thanking him wholeheartedly, saying that while he doesn’t get it often, he loves sushi and that he can stomach sandwiches, though he prefers traditional Japanese food. Mondo awkwardly mentions that he feels the same, but that his brother used to make them sandwiches when they were little, since he wasn’t very good at cooking much else. That leads to Taka to curiously ask why his brother was the one to feed him, which causes Mondo to freeze up.

Taka doesn’t notice, thankfully, since he’s so focused on grabbing the ice and placing it upon the worst of his bruises, before hungrily grabbing some of the rice balls and eating a few, slowly but clearly hungrily. The enthusiastic noises the kid lets out does not help his nerves at all, but it does help calm down the rising panic. He has never liked explaining his family situation to people, but somehow... somehow, he thinks it won’t be so bad to explain it to Taka.

Haltingly, Mondo explains that his ma and da weren’t exactly the best. That his ma was a horrible, neglectful alcoholic and his da was an abusive a**hole. Daiya— his brother, he explains— had been the one to always make sure that Mondo was kept safe and healthy, protecting him from everything, including his own parents. His da left them when he was five and his ma died when he was ten, but Daiya was always there for him, feeding him and ensuring he was kept alive. He even helped with his schoolwork, allowing Mondo to not fail out before middle school. He can feel Taka staring at him, the boy pausing in his eating to watch him with his wide, bright red eyes.

Mondo can sense the question the kid wants to ask, can tell from the intense way he is staring that he wants to ask about Daiya, about what happened to him. Mondo is anticipating it, even if he dreads it, knowing that lying to this boy is going to be hard, but also knowing he has to do it. No one can know the truth about what happened to Daiya, after all. Absolutely no one...

However... despite the fact he knows the kid is thinking about it, Taka just... moves on. He says he’s sorry such a thing happened, voice soft and sympathetic, and then he... he begins talking about himself. His voice is as halting at Mondo’s had been, the boy clearly unsure if he should be sharing this, but he does it anyway. Talking about how his mother had died of pneumonia when he’d been eight, leaving him alone with his grieving father and the endless debt his grandfather had foisted upon them. How things had gotten very hard for them after they lost one working adult, the debt nearly forcing them to lose their minuscule apartment. His voice is soft as he talks about it, his eyes sad with grief plain within them, but there is strength there, too.

It makes Mondo feel sympathy for the boy, knowing sort of what that is like. He also, for the first time, begins to feel some sympathy for Takaaki, realizing that the harsh and driven police chief had gone through more sh*t than he had expected the overbearing man to have. He doesn’t likethe chief, definitely not, but he realizes he can sympathize with him. Just a little.

But that is very much Not something he wants to feel for the man trying to send him to jail for the rest of his life, truthfully. As such, Mondo decides to steer the conversation away from death and past tragedy then, realizing that it’s making him Feel Things he doesn’t really want to, thanks.

Feeling a touch awkward, Mondo strikes up a conversation about some popular movie that literally everyone in Japan has seen. Or... so he thought. Because, apparently, Taka doesn’t watch movies. Or television. Ever.

This gets Mondo started on a long, impassioned rant, questioning how Taka could be almost an adult but hadn’t ever seen a single Disney movie. Or Ghibli! Mondo himself can’t say he’s a huge movie or TV fan, preferring to ride his hog and be outside, but even he will waste time watching a film or show or something.

It’s after about five minutes that Mondo realizes he’s been ranting nonstop, Taka not saying a word. As soon as he realizes this, he stops talking, his face on fire, feeling like a complete and utter moron. Part of him is afraid to look at Taka, but when he hears the boy let out a sound of disappointment, he can’t help how his eyes dart over, his heart freezing at the interested and invested look he finds there. His heart then begins to race when Taka earnestly asks about the movies Mondo was talking about, apparently wanting to know more. He confesses that the reason he never watched TV or movies was that he had thought that they were a waste of time, but that he’s always privately been curious about such things, wondering what makes them so important to so many people.

At Taka’s insistence, Mondo keeps going, talking about the films that he and Daiya would watch when he’d been young, Taka listening intently and even asking questions here and there. The conversation lasts for a while, and Mondo is shocked to realize that almost half an hour has passed while they had talked, Taka having finished eating and drinking a while before. Mondo had even eaten a little, too, since Taka had confessed that he felt weird being the only one to eat.

It’s then that Mondo has the thought that ‘this feels like a f*cking date,’ though he immediately dismisses said thought, knowing how moronic it is. The feeling still lingers, though, getting worse when he watches Taka throw his head back and laugh at something absent Mondo had muttered in his distraction, Taka so emotive it’s not even funny. It makes Mondo want to do everything he can to hear his laugh again, the desire so strong he doesn’t know how to handle it.

It’s as the conversation is winding to a close that he remembers the mochi, his cheeks flushing as he thinks about the dessert he’d brought, doing everything he can to force down the feeling that this is date because it very much is not, good god. Part of him is worried the mochi would have melted, but the room itself is kept fairly cold and the mochi had been frozen solid almost, so he has hope that it will still be somewhat frozen.

With fumbling words, Mondo mentions the dessert as casually as possible, though he knows he fails miserably. But it doesn’t matter at all, not when he sees Taka’s eyes literally light up, excitement bright within them. The boy explains with so much enthusiasm about how much he used to adore mochi, before his grandfather was kicked out of office, and they fell into debt. He says that he rarely gets the treat anymore, not with how expensive and frivolous it is, but that he has never forgotten how much he adored it once upon a time. He also says that his stomach is feeling better, so he thinks he should be able to eat some, if Mondo doesn’t mind.

Mondo just about self-destructs at the adorableness and mutely holds out the bag, offering Taka the ability to pick out whatever flavor he wants. There are a bunch of different ones, mostly traditional flavors like strawberry, mango, green tea and jasmine, but a couple of them are less common, like dragon fruit and kumquat.

He watches— heart beating fast and off tempo— as Taka deliberates carefully for a full-on minute, eyes darting between the choices like if he chooses wrong, the world will end or something. It’s so cute that it takes him that minute to untie his tongue enough to grunt that Taka can have more than one, so he doesn’t have to worry about choosing wrong or anything. His words make Taka blush again (for the hundredth time, Mondo thinks faintly), the kid stammering out his thanks, saying that Mondo is too kind again. Which is utterly hilarious, especially considering why Taka is even here, but by then, Mondo figures it’s best to just... go along with it, really. If it makes Taka feel better...

Taka quickly makes his choice then, grabbing a green tea mochi ice cream, biting into it soon after, letting out a particularly obscenesound as he very vocally enjoys the treat. Mondo is flushed bright red, and his boxers are significantly tighter than they should be by Taka’s second bite, which is almost just as bad as the first, dear god. By the time Taka finishes the relatively small dessert, Mondo is very flustered and regretting every single life choice he has ever made, truly.

Taka unfortunately notices Mondo’s situation and gets concerned, asking if he is alright. As embarrassed as he is, Mondo can’t help how he yells, not wanting to but being unable to stop it. He immediately berates himself when he sees Taka flinch back, his red eyes wide and terrified, the upset clear within him. That, more than anything, reminds Mondo how futile his ridiculous ‘crush’ is. Taka could never see him in any positive light. He just... can’t.

Softening his voice forcefully, he hesitantly explains about how he always yells when he gets nervous, but that he hadn’t meant to sound angry, he isn’t, he swears. He apologizes too, feeling awful that he’d ruined things with his usual nonsense. But, to his complete shock, Taka gets over his fear quickly and is smiling again before he knows it. It’s less enthusiastic than before, but no less beautiful for it.

Taka then says that he understands and doesn’t fault Mondo for it, saying that it’s okay. A slightly awkward silence rises between them before Mondo manages to break it by awkwardly offering Taka another mochi, which Taka takes happily with another bright smile. Mondo does his best to not let it get to him as badly, and only partially fails.

Taka insists that Mondo eat some of the mochi, too, claiming again that he feels awkward being the only one eating, and soon they both are going through the sweet treats Mondo had packed, the ice cream inside the gummy exterior soft and almost melted, but not quite. It is honestly the perfect texture and Mondo can’t help the soft sound of appreciation he lets out as he eats his dessert. He gets distracted when he hears a strangled noise come from the boy across from him. Concerned, Mondo looks up at Taka, worried that he’d have to somehow give the kid the Heimlich, but all he sees is Taka looking bright red, his eyes wide and his mouth partially open. There’s a glazed quality to his eyes, and it takes a moment to understand why the kid is looking at him like that, before it hits him in a wave of embarrassed pleasure.

The kid had been turned on by the noise he’d made while eating the mochi. Holy sh*t!

Face bright red and stomach in twisted knots, Mondo looks at the ground, breathing deeply to try and stop the heat flooding him. His pants are even tighter now, his junk straining against his boxer shorts, and he has to forcibly think of every unsexy thing he can to force it down. It works, but only barely, since Taka is still staring at him with a sort of hungerhe doubts the kid even realizes. Eventually Taka looks away, face red, as he shakily grabs another mochi to eat. Figuring that moving the f*ck on is the best course of action, Mondo does the same, though he’s careful to keep his noises to himself. For… both of their sakes, really.

Soon all the mochi he packed is gone, Taka looking very satisfied as he smiles gently at Mondo, looking for all the world like they are old friends who are just meeting up again, not a captor and captive. The thought makes Mondo feel so incredibly awful and he knows that it’s time for this whole charade to end. He has dressed Taka’s wounds and has fed him and given him water. There is only one thing left for him to do to try and rectify this whole situation. To make up for the pain and suffering Taka has faced at the hands of him and his gang.

He has to let Taka go free.

The thought is far more painful than he can possibly imagine. The idea of letting Taka go and never seeing him again, never speaking to him again, it’s… it’s awful and it hurts so f*cking badly. He has no clue what is going on between him and the kid, but he finds that he strangely likes it. Their dynamic. Their rapport. And he… he finds he doesn’t want to lose that.

But it’s stupid. So utterly, completely stupid. This isn’t real, he tells himself harshly, the mochi in his gut roiling angrily with his emotions. This isn’t real and Taka isn’t here because he wants to be. He’s here because he has to be. Because his gang forced him to be. If it was up to Taka, he’d never have come to this place at all, would never have willingly spent time with a criminal biker gang leader. This isn’t Taka’s world. He doesn’t belong here. He’s a good kid, the kind with hopes and dreams that Mondo will never have. Yeah, he’s sometimes has the thought of going into carpentry, but it’s not like he could ever f*cking do that sh*t. He’s a biker. A criminal. The only future he has is to spend the rest of his life rotting in jail, honestly. There is no retirement for him. He doesn’t get to retire.

This is his life. Biker gangs and violence and anger. He doesn’t deserve anything else. Not after all he has done. Not after all the people he’s hurt. He doesn’t deserve someone like Taka, who is sunshine and brightness, so g*dd*mn beautiful it hurts his eyes. Someone who is forgiving to an absolute fault, willing to let go of his own anger and fear if it just means helping someone else. Even if that someone else hurt them or is responsible for them being hurt. Taka… Taka is good, so incredibly good, and Mondo… Mondo never will be. Good. Not even a little. Not at all.

And so, his heart aching fiercely, he looks at Taka from the corner of his eyes, not strong enough to face him head on for this conversation. And he… he begins to speak.

Voice halting and way too f*cking weak, Mondo mumbles that it’s probably time to get Taka back to his home. He can see Taka whip his head to face him, eyes wide. Mondo can almost pretend he sees disappointmentand pain in those brilliant scarlet eyes, but he forces himself to ignore it. It’s just a trick of the light. Nothing else.

And yet… he can’t quite ignore the disappointment he hears so plainly in Taka’s voice, the kid dejectedly saying that perhaps that is a good idea. Saying that his father might be wondering where he is by now. From the corner of his eyes, he can still see the reluctance on Taka’s face, and it makes Mondo feel so very, very strange inside. Like his insides are rebelling against him or something. He tries to push it down, standing and making his way over to his dresser to grab his keys, but… but he can’t quite manage it.

When he returns to Taka, he asks softly if the kid thinks he’d be able to handle riding on his hog, or if he should try and grab the van that they use for various events out. He says it will be harder to grab the van unnoticed— since it’s parked in the lot where the rest of the gang stores their rides, while Mondo keeps his baby in a private garage— but that he will do that if it makes Taka feel safer.

Taka is just staring at him with wide eyes, his hands shaking a little, and it concerns Mondo greatly. He’s about to stammer something out, maybe even offering to call Taka a cab, but then… then the kid is nodding slowly, saying that he thinks he’d be able to handle a ride on a motorcycle. Mondo finds the way Taka says ‘motorcycle’ unreasonably adorable and has to squash down his rising emotions to nod slowly in return. But then Taka is continuing, asking anxiously if Mondo has a helmet and safety gear that Taka can borrow, since he knows how unsafe motorcycles are and he wouldn’t want to get hurt in case of a crash.

It makes Mondo snort, a smirk on his face that he hopes disguises the roiling in his gut at such a thought, and mutters how he wouldn’t crash, he’s been doing this since he was practically in diapers, he knows how to ride a hog, sh*t. The look Taka gives him is mildly disapproving as the kid reprimands him, saying that even still, it’s always good to be prepared. Past good experiences don’t preclude a future bad one, Taka explains seriously. It’s so cute that Mondo has to physically hide his face to prevent the kid from seeing the almost smitten look he knows is currently rising on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s so smitten with Taka after such a short amount of time, but dear god, he is.

But he moves on and considers the kid’s request. He furrows his brow as he thinks about it, wondering if they do have any protective gear in the hideout. None of his gang really bothers with that sh*t, but… well. He thinks that maybe… if he looks…

Mondo moves absently over to an old storage box he keeps in the corner of the room, knowing that he used to have an old helmet he used when he first started out, Daiya insisting on it despite Mondo’s displeasure. He thinks he shoved it in the storage box after Daiya- y-you know. He doesn’t know if it’ll fit the kid, but it may. Taka is smaller than him, so maybe the helmet he wore as a kid would fit. If he can f*cking find it, that is…

He can feel Taka’s curious eyes on him as he looks, but he ignores it as he pretty much tears the storage container apart without any care. Finally, as he reaches the bottom, he finds the old thing, letting out a noise of triumph as he holds it up like a prize, grinning back at Taka happily. Taka has a dazed look on his face, but he quickly snaps out of it, looking at the mess Mondo made with disapproval.

To Mondo’s complete and total shock, Taka stands then and heads to the mess, tutting as he claims it’s not a good idea to leave such a mess lying around. Mondo is stunned silent for a second as Taka approaches, but he finds his tongue when he watches the kid kneel down and begin putting Mondo’s things away, a lot more organized and careful than Mondo ever has been.

Confused, Mondo says that it’s fine, that he can just shove the things back into the box later once he gets back, to Taka’s obvious disgust. With an adorably haughty and almost pretentious look on his face, Taka explains that shoving things away in a box is not cleaning, thank you very much. Cleaning is a subtle and soothing task, the kid continues to explain, so ridiculously serious.

Unable to help it, Mondo lets out a huge laugh, so loud and boisterous his stomach aches with it, his heart fluttering awkwardly in his chest. He doesn’t usually laugh this hard, not since Daiya- well. He watches with his churning insides as Taka halts in his organized cleaning, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed again as he looks at him, his mouth opening on a silent gasp. He looks dazed, but not in a bad way, and it’s doing some seriously funny things to his insides, Jesus Christ.

Taka eventually looks away, face now red, and goes back to cleaning. He winced a little, though, reminding Mondo of Taka’s injuries. Feeling guilty but knowing Taka won’t give up, Mondo kneels down beside him and begins to help with the cleaning. He even folds the clothes the way Taka does, though a lot clumsier and less neat. It still makes Taka beam at him, his eyes practically sparkling, so he supposes he’s doing something right.

They finish cleaning after about ten minutes, Taka looking highly satisfied with the newly organized box. He explains to Mondo shyly that he has always found comfort in cleaning, saying that it gave him control as a child that he often didn’t have. Mondo can understand that to some extent since he feels the same way about riding his hog. Mondo accidentally says that aloud, his cheeks flushing again with his unintended confession.

Taka doesn’t judge him, though. He just hums softly, a thoughtful look on his face as he leans back from his kneeling position to sit on his knees. And then… then he’s looking at Mondo curiously, an oddly nervous look on his face. Mondo wonders why he looks nervous, but learns a moment later, his body freezing as he hears Taka ask hesitantly why Mondo chose to join a gang in the first place. Why he decided to go down this path.

The question makes Mondo feel defensive, his anger rising with his discomfort. He’s had people ask him that before, mainly cops when he’d get caught as a kid, and he’s always hated being asked it. It reminds him, though, that Taka is the son of the police chief, and his chest goes cold as he wonders if Taka will be telling his father all about this conversation. He wouldn’t blame him, god he wouldn’t, but it makes him feel cold and aching and f*cking sad, and he doesn’t know how to handle that, he really doesn’t.

Luckily, before he can say anything that he’ll regret, Taka begins talking again, his words fast and frantic, his eyes wide as he takes in Mondo’s mounting anger and upset. Taka explains that he didn’t mean it negatively, but that he was just curious as to what made him choose this lifestyle. He says that his father has always been disparaging of such choices, but that he, himself, has always been curious about it. What makes someone go down such a path. Taka also shyly says that he doesn’t really see how Mondo could be that bad, since he’s been so kind to him since he got here. It makes Mondo feel like utter sh*t.

Looking away from Taka, Mondo considers the question more rationally, his stomach still clenching, but not angrily. While he hates talking about himself in such a way, he again finds that it… it’s not so bad. Not when it’s Taka he’s telling. Plus, he… he’s gotta clear up the clear misconceptions the kid is having about him. Because he is ‘that bad’. He most definitely is.

Faltering again, Mondo explains that Daiya had started the gang up when he’d been about nine and Daiya had been fifteen, as a way to make money and to give them independence. Daiya had been working in a different gang for several years before that, ever since their father left and they were pretty much on their own money wise, but it wasn’t until Daiya started The Crazy Diamonds that Mondo joined, too. He’d always loved riding with his brother on his hog, he explains fondly, but the gang stuff didn’t come until later.

Joining the gang had felt right to him, he continues, voice slower and less confident. He’d always had trouble controlling his anger, so being in a gang helped since he could get his anger out in some way. He admits sheepishly that he knows it’s not the best way he can handle the rage inside him, but that he doesn’t know what else to do. Besides. He’s the leader of his gang now and he can’t stop that. He just… can’t.

Part of him expects Taka to question him about that, but to his relief Taka doesn’t. Instead, Taka just hums softly, nodding with understanding. And then… then he asks softly if Mondo had ever considered leaving the gang. If he ever had any plans that didn’t relate to being a gangster.

Again, Mondo feels himself stiffen up, his discomfort and anger rising. It’s easier to push down this time, though, more so since he can see the earnestness on Taka’s face and he knows the kid doesn’t mean to be accusatory or judging, but that he’s honestly just… curious. Like he truly wants to know. It’s… refreshing, quite honestly.

And so… even though he knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s wrong, he… he confesses that yeah. Yeah, he has. A lot recently, if he’s being fully honest. The honesty makes him squirm, and before he can stop himself, he’s mentioning his absent and stupid as f*ck ideas of becoming a carpenter, of all things. He hurriedly says that he knows he never could, that he barely knows anything about woodworking and that he’d never actually get a job as a carpenter, not with his record. Despite himself, his throat gets thick while saying it and he has to swallow forcefully to try and get the emotion down. He jolts harshly when he feels a tentative hand touch his, his eyes wide as he meets wide red ones.

Quietly, Taka says that he doesn’t think that. That, with hard work and effort, anything is possible. He claims that if Mondo wants to… if he truly wants to become a carpenter and leave his life as a gangster behind… well. Then Taka is positive that he could do it. That Taka believes in him fully. And the strangest thing is… Mondo actually believes that he’s telling the truth.

It’s immediately overwhelming and Mondo has to force down the rush of emotion, breathing deeply to push it all aside. Taka is still looking at him with kindness and it’s too much. Standing abruptly, Mondo grunts that they should get out of there, that they’ve wasted enough time, Taka scrambling to stand soon after. Mondo hands the kid the helmet that started this whole mess and tells him to try it on, which Taka does without a word. The fit is a bit snug, but it should keep Taka safe should anything happen, Mondo thinks.

Taka removes the helmet once he’s done trying it on, his hair sticking straight up adorably once it’s off. It makes Mondo smile, but he quickly looks away before Taka can see. Clearing his throat, he tells Taka to follow close behind him and do as he said, privately hoping that they won’t get caught by anyone, but knowing that the risk is there. It’s been hours since he was left alone with Taka, and he has a feeling his gang is going to be curious about how their ‘meeting’ went. He has no illusions as to what his gang will be assuming they’ve been doing in here so long, though the thought of it disgusts him greatly. Despite all his faults and failings, he is proud to say he would never, ever force himself on someone else. The one time he slept with a woman was consensual, thank you very much, as have been the various other times he’s fooled around with people.

Besides… Taka is such a straight lace looking dude that he doubts he’d ever sleep with someone without knowing them very well first, maybe not even until marriage, even if he clearly feels some measure of attraction towards dudes, and—

Mondo cuts those thoughts off quickly, knowing that it’s useless to dwell on it. Fact is, he’s just a captor to Taka, even if the kid seems to think higher of him than he should. Once he sets Taka free, he probably won’t ever see him again. And that… is that.

Taka agrees to Mondo’s terms, reminding him that they are supposed to be leaving now. With a soft sigh, he gestures for Taka to follow him, heading to the door, reluctance stupidly high within him. It’s as he’s reaching for the door handle that he hears Taka call out to him, his voice confused. When Mondo turns back to face the kid with a raised eyebrow, he sees a confused frown (pout, really, but Mondo doesn’t think about that, not at all) on Taka’s face, which is kind of concerning…

Mondo then freezes when Taka speaks, the kid asking hesitantly if he should have the blindfold put back on if they’re going to be wandering through the hideout. Because, to be perfectly honest… he’d forgotten the kid is the son of the police chief. Again. Despite being reminded of it only a handful of minutes before. Jesus Christ…

However… as he looks at Taka and sees the small frown he’s still wearing, clearly not happy at the idea of wearing the blindfold but willing to do it if Mondo asks, he… he realizes he doesn’t want to force the kid to wear it again. Yeah, it’s stupid. This has been one of his favorite hideouts over the years, the one he’s kept most of his personal items in, and letting an outsider see the interior, let alone the son of a police chief is… reckless. Stupid, honestly.

But as he looks at Taka… painfully honest and open Taka… he thinks that maybe he can trust the kid. And that’s stupid too, since for all he knows maybe Taka is just a ridiculously good actor and has been playing him this entire g*dd*mn time, but… he doesn’t think so. He’s got a pretty good bullsh*t detector and it’s not gone off once around Taka. So maybe… maybe…

And even if Taka does rat them out and tells his father all about their hideout and where it’s located… maybe they’d deserve it. For what they all collectively did to the poor kid… the torture and starvation and terror they put him through… maybe it would only be right.

Regardless of how ridiculous it is, Mondo just shrugs tightly and tells Taka that it’s fine. That it doesn’t matter. He can see shock on the kid’s face, as well as a small measure of pleasure, which he does his hardest to not think on, god. Taka nods hesitantly, the small smile widening as he realizes Mondo is being serious. Since that just about shorts Mondo’s brain out again, he turns back to the door and focuses on finally getting Taka out of this dump.

Silent as mice, Mondo leads Taka through the catacomb of hallways and rooms, footsteps silent as he peeks around corners for signs of his gang before leading them down those paths. It feels hella weird to be sneaking around his own g*dd*mn place, but he doesn’t focus on it. He does notice that the kid is fairly silent too, even his footsteps barely making a sound on the concrete. It’s then that Mondo realizes that Taka isn’t wearing shoes, but by that point it’s not like he can fix that, so he puts it out of his mind and focuses on sneaking again.

Luckily, they manage to make it to Mondo’s private garage without any problems, Mondo letting out a sigh of relief as they enter the relatively large space. The only people allowed in this garage are him and his elite guard, but the guard isn’t allowed to enter without his permission. If someone were to enter now and see them, he’d have grounds to pretty much kick them out of the gang. After all, it’s not like he’s doing anything bad. He’s the g*dd*mn leader, for Christ’s sake. If he wants to take his captive around on his hog after leading them through the hideout without a blindfold, he’s f*cking allowed. It’s just… easier if they didn’t have to deal with all that at the moment, is all.

As he approaches his pride and joy, he sees Taka shuffling awkwardly by the entrance of the garage, fiddling with the helmet he’s still holding. He has a look of discomfort on his face and Mondo finds himself concerned despite himself. Forcing his voice to go as soft as it’s able, he asks the kid if he’s alright. If he needs anything first. Taka looks up at him with wide eyes at that, before shaking his head slowly.

Taka replies haltingly that no, he’s fine, he’s just nervous at the thought of riding on the ‘bike,’ as he calls it. He then mentions that he rarely, if ever, does anything risky, and that riding a ‘bike’ is very risky.

While normally Mondo would be pissed at hearing someone say such a thing about riding a hog, let alone calling his baby a ‘bike’ like a f*cking nerd, he finds Taka’s nerves kind of endearing. Trying to force down his smile, Mondo shrugs and mentions how he gets it, but reiterates that Taka has nothing to worry about. He’s been riding a hog alone since he was ten, after all, long before he had his official license, and he is an expert at driving it. He makes a joke about being the Ultimate at the action, which makes Taka smile faintly.

Taka goes quiet then, clearly thinking things over. After a minute, Taka nods decisively and says that he trusts Mondo, and that he will ride the ‘bike,’ putting the helmet on clumsily. The unexpected trust floors Mondo, and he finds himself unable to make the snarky comment about it being called a ‘hog,’ not a ‘bike,’ like he had planned on.

Instead, he just awkwardly clears his throat and heads for his baby, getting on fluidly. He gestures for Taka to get on too, which he does after a moment’s hesitation. It takes a couple false starts, but soon they both are mounted on the hog, Mondo instructing Taka to hold on as tight as he can, which Taka immediately does without question. Mondo is once again floored by how much trust Taka is putting into him, but he tries not to focus on it, knowing that he needs to focus.

Before leaving, he asks Taka where to drop him off, knowing a location would probably be good. And then, to his absolute shock, Taka tells him his home address. And Mondo knows that the kid understands how stupid this is, since Taka even jokingly says that he knows he probably shouldn’t be telling Mondo his address, but that he knows Mondo won’t do anything with it. His trust is once again overwhelming to Mondo, and he decides then and there to never break it. He may be a monster and a criminal, but somehow, he feels that breaking Taka’s trust would be the absolute worst thing he could ever, ever do.

Pushing down the swell of emotions, he sets off to the address given, warning Taka before he does. The kid still screams, though it is thankfully muffled by the helmet somewhat. But Mondo doesn’t care if his gang realizes what he’s doing now. They’d learn eventually and Mondo will handle it later. Later, when Taka is safely at home and Mondo can convince his gang to never, ever go after the kid again. And maybe… maybe provide a detail for him to ensure his continued safety once he gets home… after all, if he’s so foolish as to actually trust a monster like Mondo despite everything that was done to him, and despite having a police officer as a dad… well. Clearly, this kid needs protecting.

He pushes that all down yet again as he drives on, figuring the drive will take roughly twenty minutes given city traffic. He distantly allows himself to enjoy the feel of Taka’s arms around him, reveling in the sensation, but he doesn’t allow his mind to focus on it too long, for obvious reasons. It’s still nice, though. Very, very nice.

But it’s not meant to last. And before long, they are in front of a worn-down old apartment, one that even Mondo eyes critically. Taka doesn’t seem to notice his disdain and just smiles brightly at Mondo, saying that he is very grateful to him for his assistance, even going so far as to call Mondo a ‘good friend.’ Mondo can only stare with wide eyes at Taka, which clearly makes the kid nervous, as he begins to stammer that he hopes he isn’t overstepping his bounds and that he’s sorry if he had offended. Making it sound like Mondo is the one who should be offended at having Takaas a friend.

Which is… so wrong Mondo doesn’t have enough hours in a day to point it all out, so he just shakes his head quickly and states that he’d be f*cking honored to have Taka as a friend, if the kid wants him. The words make Taka beam, so bright it takes his breath away, his nod frantic once more. He also says he would like that very much, so earnest Mondo wonders if he died and this is some strange version of heaven. But like hell would he ever get into heaven after all the sh*t he’s done, so he curbs that thought. Still… it is very nice…

And still not real. That thought douses Mondo into ice cold reality, knowing that once Taka has some time to think things through and work through the trauma, he’ll want nothing to do with Mondo. Ever. Yes, he may think them friends now, but… it won’t last. Mondo has to remember that. He truly does, or else this is going to hurt so much worse than it already does…

Still. Despite that. Despite what he knows will happen and that he should avoid Taka and all thoughts about him. Despite it all. Mondo… Mondo can’t help but pull out a scrap of paper from his pocket, grabbing a pen he keeps in his side storage of his hog, and writing down his number shakily on the stained and frayed paper. Stomach alive with butterflies, he thrusts the paper towards Taka, muttering that if he ever has need of help, or if he just needs someone to talk to, he can call Mondo. And while Mondo doesn’t say it, he privately knows that he just gave Taka his personal, private number, not the number he uses for ‘business.’ Only the elite guard have his personal number. And now Taka. And now… Taka.

He feels a shot of pain shoot through him when he sees Taka’s reluctant look as he stares at the messy scrawl, thinking he f*cked this up and now Taka is mad, but then… then Taka mutters awkwardly that he doesn’t have a phone, cheeks bright red. At Mondo’s incredulous stare, he hastily explains that while his apartment does have a landline, since his father likes having a backup in case his cellphone breaks, Taka wouldn’t be able to call Mondo using it since his father checks the phone history as a precaution. And he doesn’t have a cell phone since he’s never really needed one, he’s felt. What gets Mondo the most, though, is how regretful Taka sounds while saying it, like he… like he truly is unhappy that he doesn’t have a reliable way of contacting Mondo. And while he makes sure to tell himself that this isn’t real a thousand more times, he truly wishes that it could be. That Taka truly does feel regret at not being able to talk to him again.

Perhaps it’s that that has him say it, perhaps it something else entirely, but he finds himself blurting out that Taka should still keep the number so he could call if there is an emergency, and he desperately needs someone. Mondo promises, solemn and full of grave intensity, that if Taka ever needs him, he will drop everything and be there. No matter what the need is, he stresses, needing Taka to know how serious he is. And… judging by the bright blush and the dazed look that has returned to Taka’s face… Mondo thinks the kid does.

After that, Mondo knows it’s time to go, knowing that hanging around outside the home of the police chief— chatting with the man’s clearly beaten son— is a recipe for disaster. Still, Mondo doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to go back to a world that Taka isn’t a part of. He knows how stupid the thought is, but as he looks into Taka’s bright red, comforting eyes… he knows that if he leaves here, he’ll be leaving behind something truly special. Something he’s been missing for years. Something… something good. Truly and fully good.

But he can’t stay. He doesn’t deserve someone like Taka, and none of this is real, besides. Taka will come out of his shock eventually and realize the error of his ways. And Mondo… Mondo deserves that. He truly, truly does.

And so… despite how much it hurts… despite the fact that he wants so desperately to never leave this perfect and stupidly trusting kid’s side… Mondo forces himself away.

With a tight smile that absolutely does not hide the pain he’s feeling, Mondo absently raises his hand in goodbye and makes his way back to his baby, claiming that he’ll see Taka around sometime, though he absolutely does not believe it. Not unless Taka is there when his father comes to arrest Mondo and his gang, that is. He doesn’t expect Taka to reply anything more than a shaky goodbye in return, maybe sounding a bit regretful like earlier, but nothing special.

That’s why he’s absolutely shocked when he feels a cool hand wrap around his wrist, not tight but firm. Mondo wheels around in shock, eyes wide as he meets Taka’s wide and yet determined ones. He listens with a distracted ear as Taka says that this entire experience has been terrifying and frightening in many, many ways, but that he does not regret meeting Mondo, as meeting him has probably been one of the best experiences of his life. He sounds so earnest and truthful that— for a moment— Mondo almost forgets that it’s not real and almost believes that he could deserve this. And then he… he can only watch, heart pounding out of his chest, when… when Taka leans forward and… a-and…

Kisses his cheek…

Cheeks on fire, Mondo dumbly watches Taka hastily back away, feeling bereft as the kid’s hand leaves his wrist, absolutely dumbfounded and maybe a little turned on. It doesn’t help that Taka’s face is bright red again, and that there’s a small, somewhat pleased looking smile as Taka says lowly that he hopes they will meet again one day, as he would truly hate to never see Mondo again. And Mondo— brain offline and mouth moving without his consent— says that if Taka uses that number, he will.

With that exchange said, Mondo knows it’s time to leave before he spontaneously combusts. He knows that he is well and truly f*cked, so gone for Taka that it’s kind of pathetic, like a grade schooler with his first crush. It should embarrass the hell out of him that he’s acting so foolish for someone he’s known less than half a day.

But as he finally mounts his hog and looks over his shoulder at Taka, seeing the sad smile on his lips and his hand raised in a final goodbye… he realizes it doesn’t. Embarrass him. Like hell would anything have ever worked out between them, their worlds are much too different, but… it was nice, for one evening, to pretend.

He raises his hand in a final farewell, grinning widely at the enchanting kid he had the absolute fortune to meet, and then he’s gone. Driving a bit faster than the speed limit, Mondo peels out of the small parking lot and onto the city streets, heart aching as he leaves the kid behind.

And as he heads back to his hideout, knowing he’ll have to explain to the guys what happened… he has a small hope that he can’t crush, no matter what, that maybe… maybe Taka will call someday. That this— whatever this is— was real. That it wasn’t only him who felt the connection.

It’s ridiculous. And stupid. And absurd.

And yet…

And yet.

~~~ (time skip!)

More than two months have passed since that day in the gang hideout, and yet Taka has forgotten nothing of the encounter. He hasn’t forgotten the pain or the fear, and his nose only just stopped hurting a few weeks ago, but he… he definitely hasn’t forgotten the rest, either. Meeting Mondo. Talking to him. The weird fluttering in his chest whenever they spoke. The desire he’d felt when Mondo had looked at him. The yearning inside that only grew brighter and brighter as the minutes passed. No… no, he’s not forgotten anything.

Nor does he want to. While he can concede that the kidnapping and the torture were not at all something he enjoyed or would ever want to do again, he can’t deny that he doesn’t regret meeting Mondo. Doesn’t regret their conversations, or the gentleness and trust Mondo showed towards him. He doesn’t regret it one bit.

After Mondo had left him outside his apartment, Taka had stood there in a daze for what felt like hours, his lips tingling with the phantom sensation of rough stubble underneath them, mind racing with thoughts and feelings. He’d been exhausted, since he’d not had a good night’s rest in days, but he’d not been able to force himself from that spot for a very long time.

Eventually he had shaken himself out of it and had climbed the stairs to his and his father’s shared apartment, stopping at the front door abruptly when he realized that he didn’t have his keys anymore. One of his kidnappers had taken it with his clothes earlier that day, so he’d been stuck standing outside his apartment, the night air a bit chilly around him.

His father had eventually arrived home from work, his eyes widening immediately upon seeing Taka’s ragged state. He’d started to ask Taka a million questions about what happened, but Taka had tiredly asked if they could just enter the apartment and he could tell his father later, as he was very tired. His father had stared at him with intense concern for a minute, before hurrying him inside, saying that they would be talking about this once Taka woke. Taka had absently agreed and headed straight for his small bedroom, passing out the second his head hit the pillow, despite all the aches and pains he had been feeling.

Morning was better, thankfully, and he’d stumbled out of bed with a tentative plan of action. His father was still home despite how he usually would have been gone by the time Taka awoke. When he asked, the man said that he called out that day, since he needed to ensure that Taka was okay. It made him feel a swell of affection for his father, but he knew he couldn’t tell the man the truth. While part of him wondered why, since he barely knew the man, he knew he couldn’t betray Mondo. Not after all he’d done for him.

And so, he’d told his father that he’d fallen down some stairs, which had led to his disheveled state. He inferred from the way his father spoke the night before that the man hadn’t noticed his three-day absence, which Taka understood. With his busy work schedule, it wouldn’t have surprised him if his father hadn’t even come home at all during those days, maybe even sleeping in his office at the precinct like he’s done numerous times before. So, all he had to do was come up with an explanation for the injuries and not the missing time.

He could tell that his father didn’t believe him, as the man kept asking more and more questions, but while Taka is usually a horrid liar, he’d been adamant this time. He fell down some stairs, causing him to break his nose and bruise his ribs. It was a plausible story, a simple one, and eventually his father begrudgingly accepted it. He knows his father still didn’t believe him, but Taka can be very stubborn when he wants to be, so he figures his father just accepted it for both of their peace of mind.

He had been very anxious about having to explain to his father how he’d lost not only his clothes and shoes, but his keys, bag, wallet, and all of his other daily possessions, knowing that saying such a thing would only immediately bring the suspicion back, though he knew he’d have to eventually. However, he’d not had to worry about that long, as that problem had been solved the very next day.

Taka had been on his way back from the library— where he had a part time job for the break— wearing an old pair of dress shoes since his boots were MIA, when he’d seen a fairly large package sitting on his welcome mat that was addressed to him. Confused, he’d brought the thing inside and entered his room, where he immediately set about opening the box curiously. He’d never had a package addressed to him before, so it was honestly a little exciting.

And then he’d felt his heart stutter in his chest when he’d seen all of his things neatly placed inside, even his wallet (with more yen inside than he’d left it, he later realized), keys, and clothes. The clothes had even been freshly laundered— the stains and tears mended too— and his boots had been shined. It had overwhelmed him for a minute, tears falling down his cheeks as he touched the things he’d thought were lost forever, the few personal items he had to his name.

It was then that he’d noticed the note tucked in the bottom of the box, almost like whoever placed it there didn’t want it to be found. But it had been, and the words written inside…

‘Thought you’d like your things back. Take care.’

That was it. No signature, nothing. But Taka had immediately recognized the writing as the same as the one on the piece of paper he had stored inside the box that he keeps his most treasured possessions. And he knew exactly who had brought him his belongings back. It had been a bit more overwhelming than he’d care to admit.

With that crisis solved, Taka had focused on getting back into the swing of his everyday life. While his father may not have noticed his absence, his boss and coworkers had, and to his surprise they were all worried about him when they saw his bruises and broken nose.

He’d quickly told them the same thing he told his father, claiming to his boss that he was sorry he’d not called and informed her of his absence, but that he’d been doing his best to heal and hadn’t thought to make the call. The elderly woman had immediately told him it was fine and that he didn’t have to worry about it, even offering to give him the rest of the week off— paid— so he can take care of himself and heal properly. That had also been overwhelming, and he’d had to fight back tears as he explained that he wanted to work, since he hates inactivity. It had taken a little convincing, but she’d agreed to let him work, though she kept a close eye on him for weeks after, still watching even after the worst of his wounds healed.

The days had been hard, though, and the nights even harder. Even after his body stopped aching so badly, he couldn’t help but prod at the pain in his mind. And he doesn’t even mean the pain of having pretty much been tortured and starved for two days. But… the pain of being away from Mondo.

Taka isn’t stupid. Right? Even while it had all been occurring, Taka had wondered if what he was feeling was real. If he actually cared so much about this ragged biker that he’d met under the worst of circumstances mere hours before. It had all seemed so farfetched and fantastical to him that part of him had been waiting the entire time for the other shoe to drop. For Mondo to suddenly yell ‘ha! Gotcha!’ and change on a dime. He doesn’t know why he’d told the biker his home address knowing how stupid it was, but he’d felt so tired and so alone at that moment that he hadn’t even seriously considered the danger involved in telling Mondo his home. Where he and his father— the chief of police— lived.

He’d realized it later, though. The next day, his heart and mind racing with every that had happened. And despite the buoyancy he still felt when he thought of the biker gang leader, he’d also felt trepidation and a hint of fear at the thought of Mondo using the information against him, spending the entire first day panicking silently to himself. And part of the next day.

But then he’d gotten the package. And then a week passed. And then two. And then a month. And then a second month. And at no point at all did Taka face any possible retaliation from Mondo. No hint of gangs loitering around his apartment or harassing his father. Nothing.

Well… not nothing, actually. Because sometimes… sometimes, on odd days, there would be a package left at his front door addressed to him, with no return label. He’d bring the box to his room with a racing heart and open it, finding a random assortment of goods each time. Sometimes they were sweets, like fine chocolate or assorted traditional mochi with sweet and savory fillings. Other times they’d be practical items, such as a fancy notebook or a nice fountain pen. And sometimes… sometimes, there would be DVDs in the box, for movies he’d always heard about but never seen. Receipts would accompany each box, proving the items were paid for Taka assumes, though there would never be a note, no matter how hard Taka looked. And oh, how he looked.

He knows who sends the boxes, though. Of course he does. He’s never had anyone who would send him things, and given that there’s no return address or stamps, he knows the boxes were delivered in person. Plus, they always mysteriously arrived on days he would get home from work before his father, though that’s a little less impressive considering how often such a thing is the case. And finally… the writing on the box is the same as from the note and from the phone number. Which is the most damning evidence, really.

Part of him thinks that he should find it creepy that a criminal biker is sending him gifts, but strangely, he doesn’t. Especially not when he remembers Mondo’s muttered comment after Taka had remarked that he had never been given a gift before. Instead it just makes him feel… warm. And remembered. And appreciated.

It also reminds him of the number Mondo had given him, which he has long since memorized. It makes his heart pound to think of, recalling the moment he’d been given the number with complete clarity. Part of him longs to call just to hear Mondo’s voice and talk to him again, but part of him is afraid to do that. What if… what if Mondo doesn’t want that? Or if he gets annoyed at Taka calling for a non-emergency, even if Mondo had told him he could? Or if it turns out it has all been a big hoax and Mondo doesn’t actually want to be friends with him? While the gifts say otherwise, his lifelong rejection from every possible friend says yes.

So, he hasn’t. Called. Every time he’s headed to the pay phone at the end of the street, intent on calling, he’d get nervous and chicken out. This has happened no less than twenty times, with it once happening twice in one day. Taka wants to call, truly he does! He’s just… scared.

But today. Today, he has decided that no matter what… he will call. Even if Mondo doesn’t pick up, or if he doesn’t respond, or if he rejects him… he has to call today.

It’s his 20th birthday, after all. And while his father had planned on doing something special today, taking Taka out to a restaurant they could only barely afford, the man had unfortunately been called into work for an emergency. Leaving Taka alone in his room, his chest aching fiercely with loneliness. He doesn’t blame his father for leaving, no! But… it hurts sitting in this room alone, thinking so desperately of one person, fearing rejection but thinking that just this once… the potential reward would be worth the risk.

It’s still hard for him to force his legs to move. To stand up, hold his weight, and make the trip to the nearest pay phone. His heart races at just the thought of it, but he knows he’s being ridiculous. He is not a quitter and he’s never run from anything in his life. Yes, perhaps Mondo will reject him, but… he has to at least try.

After about half an hour of useless deliberation, Taka is finally able to force himself to stand and march out of his apartment. His legs are shaking horribly, the shaking getting worse and worse the closer he gets to the pay phone, but he refuses to stop.

Finally, he reaches the pay phone and hesitates only a second before he’s putting his yen in and dialing the number he’s long since memorized. His heart is racing fast as he hears the phone ring, his mind blank. Part of him wishes that Mondo won’t answer, so that he can just leave a message and leave it at that.

But that hope is dashed when he hears someone pick up the phone, and then a familiar voice is sounding, though Taka is far too tense to comprehend the words said to him. It takes him a moment to realize he’s not taken a breath since he arrived at the pay phone and his lungs are screaming at him in protest. He manages to take a huge inhale of breath, though he’s still feeling very nervous and almost afraid. Not of Mondo, no, no. But… of himself. That he’ll ruin this like he’s always ruined everything. That Mondo will realize how uninteresting and worthless he is and won’t want to talk to him. That… that what happened two months ago was just a fluke, that it wasn’t real, and that Mondo wouldn’t want to get that back.

Finally, after another moment passes, he hears the voice call again, worry thick within it. And Taka is finally able to comprehend what the voice is saying.

“Taka…? Is, uh… is that you? Not many people have this number, so, uh… sh*t. Are ya alright, man? D’ya… d’ya need me ta come get ya or somethin’? ‘Cuz I can if ya want… uh… sh*t, is this Taka? Uh… if ya could say somethin’, that would be, ya know… appreciated…”

That jolts Taka out of his daze and he finds himself stammering out a greeting, his cheeks red again. He hears Mondo let out a small laugh, greeting him with so much unbridled affection that it makes Taka’s chest ache. Before he can force the lump in his throat down, Mondo continues, his voice a lot more serious and concerned as he asks him again if he needs help, if he’s hurt, if he needs Mondo to drive out to him. The questions almost overwhelm Taka, making him feel terrible for worrying the biker for something so simple, so stupid. But he can’t just hang up now, not without worrying Mondo more.

And so, voice trembling, he assures Mondo that no, nothing is wrong, he’s okay and doesn’t need assistance. His throat gets thick again before he can explain his actual reason for calling, forcing him to peter out awkwardly, his heart racing painfully in his chest. He then hears Mondo speak again, his voice soft and soothing as he reassures Taka that it’s okay, he doesn’t have to be nervous, it’s all fine, and Taka can tell him why he called if he wants, but if his reason is that he just wanted to talk, that’s fine too. That almost makes Taka more nervous, but he swallows it down and pushes forward.

Voice still trembling, Taka explains haltingly that it’s his 20th birthday and he has found himself unfortunately alone. His father is working, and he never has had any friends, and he was wondering if Mondo wanted to… to hang out. Or something. Taka gets nervous around then and begins babbling that Mondo doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, that he’s okay being alone, he’s been alone most his life so it’s fine. He would hate to impose upon Mondo and if he’s busy he understands completely and he isn’t entirely sure why he called, he hates being a bother, he’s sorry, he-

Mondo cuts him off around then, his voice soft with something almost fond deep in the tone, mixed with something that sounds sad. Mondo says that he’d be honored to spend Taka’s birthday with him, since Taka had helped make his birthday one of the best he’s ever had, and he could only hope to return the favor. The honest words make Taka’s face flush even hotter, his breath shaky and his heart clenched.

Taka shakily agrees and makes plans for Mondo to meet him outside his apartment, since his father isn’t there anyway. Mondo promises that he’ll be there in twenty before hanging up with a warm ‘see ya soon, Taka.’

Taka walks back to his apartment in a daze, and once he gets there, he takes a heavy seat on the front stoop, wringing his hands anxiously. He’s incidentally dressed in the same outfit he’d worn the day he’d been kidnapped, his usual white suit and red tie that he always wears when at university and his internship and doesn’t bother to change out of during break. This suit has numerous stitches in it, and it doesn’t look very professional anymore, but he can’t help but like it regardless. He hadn’t consciously put it on this morning, but… well.

It feels like both a second and a millennium have passed when he hears the unfamiliar roar of a motorcycle pull up before him. His head whips up instantly, heart racing, a gasp escaping his lips when he sees a now familiar person straddling the powerful vehicle.

Scrambling up and over to the bike (he knows Mondo doesn’t like him calling it that, but he dislikes calling it a ‘hog,’ so they’ll just have to agree to disagree), he tries to think of what to say, what to do, but finds himself coming up blank.

Luckily, Mondo breaks the silence by clearing his throat and awkwardly asking what Taka wants to do. Unluckily, Taka has no idea whatsoever. He hadn’t really expected Mondo to actually show up, to be honest, so he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here. He feels very awkward and regretful as he tells Mondo this, and then he apologizes softly for wasting the biker’s time, sure that Mondo will be mad at him for making him come all this way for nothing.

However… to his absolute shock, Mondo doesn’t get upset. Or even slightly unhappy. Instead, all he does is hum, tilt his head, and ask Taka if he likes going to the park. When Taka stammers that yes, he loves the park, Mondo grins and tilts his head towards his bike, clearly indicating that Taka should get on. Which he then verbalizes, telling Taka that he knows the perfect place for them to go.

Taka is only a little reluctant, not wanting to ride without a helmet (while he’d surprisingly enjoyed the last ride with Mondo, he would never have wanted to do it sans helmet), but to his surprise yet again, Mondo unclips something from his bike and hands it to Taka. It takes him a second to realize it’s a helmet. But he can tell immediately that it’s not the same helmet as the last time. This one is bright red, for one thing, and looks to be a bit bigger. When Taka looks at Mondo in question, the biker sheepishly mentions that he’d gotten Taka a new helmet on the offside chance they ever met up again, this one being a size bigger, which Mondo guessed would fit better.

The idea that Mondo cared enough to get him his own helmet, just for his own comfort flusters Taka greatly, and he feels the stirring in his heart he’d first felt two months ago and hasn’t stopped since. He’s never felt so much for another person before and it’s making him feel very flushed. Especially when he catches sight of the gentle smile Mondo has on his lips, his eyes like liquid silver as he looks at him. It… it’s very nice, though…

After a moment of stunned silence, Taka shakily puts the helmet on, noticing immediately that it fits much, much better. He then carefully gets on the bike behind Mondo, the process a lot easier now that he knows sort of what he’s doing. And now that his ribs aren’t aching fiercely, of course.

Once he’s mounted, Mondo waits a moment while Taka gets comfortable, before telling Taka he’s going to move, Taka nodding his consent. He still feels a bit terrified when the bike begins moving, but at least this time he doesn’t scream like a child. He just holds tight to Mondo, moving his body with the biker’s, both enjoying the ride and also kind of hating it. It does wonders to help calm his nerves about inviting Mondo over to ‘hang out’, though.

They arrive at Mondo’s mystery location about half an hour later, Taka looking eagerly at the decent sized park he’s never been to before. As Mondo parks, Taka looks at the green fields and the groups of families and friends that walk around, enjoying the last day before the school semester starts up again. Taka has never really celebrated his birthday, considering his father’s busy schedule and his perpetual lack of friends. Not to mention how it always occurs the day before the first day of the fall quarter, leaving it a bit forgettable. But as he stands here with Mondo, looking at the busy park before him… for the first time, he almost feels happy it’s his birthday. If only because it gives him the excuse to enjoy Mondo’s highly pleasing company again.

Mondo gently touches Taka’s hand to draw him back to reality, which Taka does with a smile. Mondo begins to chat about random things as they start to move through the park, like he had the previous time, and the conversation feels as easy to Taka now as it did back then, putting him immediately at ease. During the drive, the anxiety and fear Taka had been feeling had waned, and now all he can feel is happiness and brightness, excitement filling him at whatever it is Mondo has planned for them.

They meander through the park for a bit, and at one point Mondo mentions that Daiya used to take him here when he was little, the pair playing and rough housing whilst on the fields. They even brought their late dog— Chuck, an incredibly smart Maltese that Mondo is still adorably fond of, Taka learns— here all the time for his walks.

After a while their wandering takes them past an ice cream stand and Mondo asks Taka if he’d like one. Taka declines with a stammer, insisting that he couldn’t possibly impose on Mondo like that, though he greatly appreciates the offer.

Mondo, though, just snorts and deadpans that it’s really not an issue to buy a ‘f*ckin’ ice cream.’ Taka wrinkles his nose at the vulgarity, but after a bit of back and forth, Mondo finally pointing out it’s literally his birthday, Taka finally concedes and asks for a vanilla ice cream, since it’s his favorite flavor. Something about that makes Mondo laugh, and Taka is afraid at first that he’s laugh at him, a measure of hurt rising within him at the thought. But then he sees the softness in Mondo’s eyes when he looks at him, the gentle tilt to his lips, and Taka realizes that no. Mondo isn’t making fun of him. He just… finds it funny, he supposes.

They reach the front of the line before Mondo can say anything, and Taka just listens as the biker orders himself a chocolate soft serve ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, and a cherry on top, before he orders Taka the exact same but in vanilla. Seeing Taka’s displeased pout at the biker ordering more than a simple ice cream for him, Mondo smirks and gently nudges Taka’s shoulder with his, saying that Taka should learn to take it easy sometime. Live a little. Enjoy the small things.

“Like vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, and a cherry on top?” Taka questions skeptically.

Mondo smiles, bright and happy and clear, taking Taka’s breath away.

“Hell yeah man! Exactly like vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, an’ a f*ckin’ cherry on the g*dd*mn top. Now enjoy yer g*dd*mn ice cream, ya g*dd*mn nerd.”

The vender gives them their respective ice creams before Taka can reply back with a witty rejoinder. Though perhaps that’s for the better, because Taka’s brain is currently offline as butterflies erupt in his stomach. During their last encounter, Taka hadn’t been able to escape the nagging thought that— despite the unfortunate circumstances they’d found themselves meeting under— parts of it had felt almost like… well… a date. And it had been ridiculous at the time, they’d barely known one another, and they did have the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their meeting. But still… he’d not been able to push it away no matter how hard he tried.

But now? Right now, holding onto a quickly melting ice cream as Mondo begins talking about his childhood with his brother, detailing how much they always enjoyed getting ice cream and wandering about on a hot summer day like this one? The feeling of this feels like a dateincreases by a tenfold and Taka is left reeling on how to continue on without making a complete fool of himself.

Because… well. He can’t lie to himself. He likes Mondo. A lot. It’s not quite infatuation and definitely not love, but it… it’s the start of something. Something he thinks could be very nice if they let it.

However, he tells himself forcefully, he doesn’t even know if Mondo is into guys that way. And even if he is, there is no guarantee he’d be into Taka specifically. Taka isn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with, he knows. He’s very opinionated and likes things to go his way exactly. And while he’s been trying to not do it with Mondo, he knows that once he gets started, he can talk for hours nonstop about certain topics that interest him, like politics or ethics or morality. And he’s been told so many times that it’s annoying and aggravating, so he just… he knows he’s not an easy person to get close to. Even if the thought hurts. And oh… does it hurt…

During Taka’s distraction, the pair had still been walking, and it isn’t until they arrive that Taka realizes Mondo had had a destination in mind. But as they reach the mid-sized pond that is bracketed by trees with a bridge that goes over it, with koi fish in the water and ducks floating leisurely atop it, Taka is forced to stop his restless worries and focus solely on the beauty before him.

After a minute of awed staring, Taka hears Mondo chuckle warmly, before a warm hand brushes the back of the hand not holding the small amount of ice cream that he still had left. Taka turns to face Mondo then and sees a warm and tender look on the biker’s face, making him look much younger than he usually does. It makes Taka’s heart squeeze to see, the baffling affection nearly overwhelming him. He can only hope his face isn’t completely betraying him, but knowing his luck…

Either way, Mondo doesn’t mention it and instead just places his hand on Taka’s mid-back to direct him towards an empty bench before the pond so they can watch the koi and ducks swim together for a bit. Taka ignores the racing of his heart and smiles shakily as he follows Mondo, his back tingling not unpleasantly.

They sit beside one another on the relatively small bench, so close they’re almost touching, but not quite. It drives Taka up the wall, his skin prickling with goose flesh and shivers each time either of them moves. It’s quiet between them, Mondo happily finishing his ice cream cone as he watches the ducks swim lazily by, and Taka has to admit that it’s nice. Very nice. Nicer than anything else has ever been in his life, save for every limited interaction he’s had with the biker.

It feels too good to be true, honestly. All of it. That someone like Mondo would willingly want to spend time with someone like him. Even discounting his unfortunate habit of being overly blunt and borderline rude at times, he is probably the textbook definition of a ‘goody two-shoes,’ while Mondo is the textbook definition of a ‘bad boy.’ Not that he thinks Mondo is bad! Not at all! Just… his demeanor and profession. The two don’t really seem to have much in common. Even their special interests are divergent, though Taka finds himself strangely captivated by how enthusiastic Mondo is about all of the things he enjoys. But just… why, he has to wonder? Why did he give him his number back then, and why… why did he show up to meet him today? Just… why?

Unable to hold the question in any longer, Taka blurts it out, no decorum at all, and he feels his cheeks flood with his mortification at his lack of social grace. However, Mondo still doesn’t seem to mind. He just hums thoughtfully, clearly mulling it over seriously. That’s another thing Taka really likes about Mondo, he thinks pensively to himself. The biker always seems to take the things Taka says seriously, not dismissing them out of hand as something irrelevant, like so many other people do. It feels… nice. Like he’s actually being seen and heard for once. It’s strange but… but nice.

But then Mondo is talking, his voice musing and contemplative. And Taka… he isn’t really sure what to make of it.

“Huh. Why did I show up? I mean… I dunno, man. Ya called. An’ I said I’d come if ya called, didn’t I? An’ ‘sides. Yer, uh… sh*t, I dunno. Nice ta talk ta or somethin’ like that. Let me f*ckin’ ramble ‘bout random *ss bullsh*t, not seemin’ ta mind. An’…” Mondo pauses here, seeming to collect his thoughts. After a few moments, he continues. “I dunno. You, uh… ya were the first person ta really say ya believed I could actu’ly be a f*ckin’ carpenter… ya know? Never got ‘round ta tellin’ Dai ‘bout that ‘fore he, uh… y-ya know. An’ like hell could I tell that sh*t ta the gang. They’d think I’d gotten weak or somethin’. In fact, think yer the first person I ever told I even was interested in woodwork ta begin with. So… sh*t. I really don’t know, man. Just… s’easy ta talk ta ya, I guess. Kinda f*cked up when ya think ‘bout it, considerin’ how we met an’ all, so I try not ta. Think ‘bout it. An’… an’ if ya like talkin’ ta me, too, then… heh. I dunno. Works out. I guess. ‘Less ya don’t like talkin’ ta me… uh… in which case I can always stop… heh…”

The mumbled words make Taka’s chest ache even more then, and tears start to fill his eyes despite himself. This worries Mondo a lot and the biker immediately starts back tracking and trying to rectify things. Taka cuts him off before he can get too impassioned, though, and explains that he’s not crying because he’d upset, but that he’s just a little overwhelmed. Because… because he likes talking to Mondo, too. And he’s just not used to people actually enjoying his company.

That seems to upset Mondo, as the biker is now frowning at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of an emotion Taka can’t begin to explain. And then Mondo says that it’s their loss, as he finds talking to Taka to be quite enjoyable, and his company is more than appreciated too. It overwhelms Taka again and this time a couple tears slip out, to his intense mortification. Thankfully Mondo doesn’t mention it. He just smiles at him gently before looking away over the pond, the silence between them strangely not awkward or tense, but instead soothing and peaceful. Tranquil. It’s honestly so, so nice…

Minutes pass in their silent reveries, their ice creams long finished but still remaining in place.

Finally, after what Taka estimates is about five minutes pass, he hears Mondo talk again. And this time, his voice is very soft. Softer than before, even. So soft it takes Taka a second to decipher the fact that Mondo had just mentioned quietly that he’s been thinking more and more about quitting the gang recently. About retiring and moving on with his life. He isn’t entirely sure what he’ll do next, as he knows he doesn’t have the skills needed to go directly into carpentry— even if he didn’t have a criminal record— and all of his contacts and connections are related to the gang in some way or another. For over a decade, all he’s known has been his gang. What is he without it, Mondo wonders aloud, his tone wistful and a little scared.

It makes Taka feel deeply for Mondo, and while he’s never been the best at comfort, he knows roughly the mechanics of it. And he knows he wants to try. So, despite his misgivings as to his comfort abilities, he hesitantly rests a hand on Mondo’s shoulder and states that if Mondo really wants to do something new with his life and is willing to put in the effort, then Taka knows he will be able to do it. And… Taka hesitates here for a second, before plowing on and saying that if Mondo needs help, that Taka will be more than willing to provide assistance. While Taka doesn’t really know much about carpentry either, he knows that his father has a lot of connections thanks to being the police chief, and that he may be able to help Mondo find cheap courses that teach woodworking and carpentry, if Mondo would like.

Mondo stares at Taka for several seconds in stunned silence, before muttering that he doesn’t have to do that, that Mondo doesn’t want to inconvenience Taka more than he has. Taka just smiles in response, shaking his head firmly. Then he says that he likes helping people, and that if he could help Mondo out in any way, then he would be honored.

Taka then pauses again, before blushing brightly. He visibly debates what he wants to say, but ultimately decides on saying it. Hesitantly and very awkwardly, Taka then offers to allow Mondo to stay with him in his apartment he rents using his scholarship and internship money near his university, about an hour away from their hometown, if he needs a place to stay that isn’t with his gang. He hastily says that it’s only a one bedroom, but that the couch is a pullout, and that Taka wouldn’t mind if he wanted to stay. While he tries to disguise it, Taka can’t quite force down the hope and eagerness of his offer. He doesn’t even know why he is so keen on the idea, he barely knows Mondo besides, but… something about it seems right to Taka. Plus… he does always love to help people…

At first, Taka is sure that Mondo will reject him out of hand. He can see the hesitation on Mondo’s face, so clear that even Taka has no problem recognizing it. But before Taka has a chance to take back the offer and stammer out something to make things less awkward, he hears Mondo softly ask if Taka truly means that, saying that he barely knows Mondo and what little he does know can’t be good.

Taka rejects that idea, though, shaking his head firmly again. He ignores all his uncertainties for the moment and says that the things he has heard about Mondo don’t matter, as hearsay is very rarely accurate. After all, there are many people who claim that Taka is a fraud and a sham, that his efforts in morality and ethics are lies, when Taka knows for certain they are not. And besides. While they’ve only known one another for two partial days, Taka likes to think himself a good judge of character. And he… he thinks Mondo is a good person who deserves to have a second chance. A fresh start if you will. A way to get away from his old life if he so chooses.

Taka then says that it doesn’t have to be a permanent solution, that Mondo can stay with him temporarily until he finds something better. And that the offer is always there if Mondo wants it.

Mondo seems a bit overwhelmed at the kind offer, as he spends a full minute staring out at the pond, hands twitching slightly at his sides. Taka jumps a little when he feels Mondo grab his hand, but he doesn’t pull away. He just turns to face Mondo with wide eyes, and watches in stunned silence as Mondo leans closer and closer slowly. His eyes seem to be telling Taka something, but Taka has no idea what, as frozen as his brain feels. He still doesn’t pull back, though, as a strange sort of anticipation rises within him. And then… then…

Mondo stops about a millimeter from his face, eyes bright and captivating. Taka has one second to realize what is about to happen when… when…

Mondo kisses him.

It’s sweet. And gentle. And is barely a kiss at all, just a brush of lips, but it’s far more than Taka has ever had, and he’s fairly certain he’s forgotten how to breathe, honestly.

After a moment, Mondo pulls back, Taka’s eyes opening back up (he doesn’t recall closing them, but clearly, he must have, he thinks in a daze) and seeing the hesitant look on Mondo’s face.

“That change yer mind?” Mondo asks him breathily, his words shaking and weak. And Taka… his brain is still very sluggish, but he knows what his answer will be.

“No, Mondo… n-not at all…”

Mondo begins to smile brightly then. It starts off small before consuming his entire face, his eyes shining with it. It makes Taka feel bolder than he ever has before, and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s leaning forward and pressing a soft— if a bit clumsy— kiss to Mondo’s lips in return. Pulling back a hair, Taka shyly confesses that he’s been dreaming about doing that for a while now. Just as shy, Mondo laughs and confesses that he has, too.

But then Mondo is sighing, pulling away from Taka completely and looking back out over the pond, a pensive look on his face. The expression makes Taka nervous, but he says nothing as he also looks out over the pond, fidgeting with his hands.

After a while, Mondo starts to talk again, his voice soft and shaky as he claims this whole situation is ‘kinda f*cked, ain’t it?’ They met while Taka was kidnapped all because of Mondo and his lifestyle. How on earth could they ever have anything more than that, after how they first met? Is such a thing even possible?

Taka contemplates the question, biting his lip anxiously. After a few moments of thought, Taka hesitantly replies that he doesn’t think the way they met should matter. No, he can’t say it was a particularly good time for him, but he knows himself well enough. If what he was feeling was just manufactured due to that situation, he doesn’t think it would feel so real. But honestly, he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe this is all manufactured emotion due to a bad situation. But… wouldn’t it be worth it to at least try? To see if something could work out between them?

Mondo contemplates that for a while, the pair staring out at the pond in shared silence. Taka is nervous about Mondo’s reply, he has no idea what any of this even means, but he… he’s willing to find out. If Mondo wants to as well… he’s more than willing to find out.

Finally, long minutes later, Mondo speaks. He gives one firm nod of his head and claims that, you know what? Why not. Why not try. It will take him a little while to get all of his affairs in order, but that if Taka wants to try and is willing to help… then why not? Mondo doesn’t have any active warrants out for his arrest, and he’s been training his new second in command for a couple years now, and he thinks the kid is ready to take over fully. He… he could get out, Mondo says softly, his expression a bit lost, but also a bit excited. Taka hesitantly grabs his hand, and Mondo twines their fingers together, smiling at him hopefully.

Taka doesn’t know where this all is going to lead. If there will be a happy ending for the two of them or not. He doesn’t know if they will work out, or if their emotions are false after all. He has no clue whatsoever what is going to happen next.

What he does know, though, he thinks as he looks at Mondo— who is smiling softly back at him, his lavender eyes liquid soft, his expression so tender it makes him ache… what he does know is that he is more than willing to try. To try this thing out. To help Mondo get away from his past and help him move towards the future. There are no guarantees in life, and their situation is a very unique and shaky one. But… but god, is he willing to try.

And at the end of the day…

He supposes that’s all that matters.

THE END.

~~~

(Okay, so I'd been working on a kind of epilogue for this, but I never got around to finishing it before things got really busy for me. But I want this out in the world, so... here you all go! A mini epilogue.)

Mondo’s POV:

It’s several years later and it is made clear that Mondo and Taka have been together for a while. Taka is hurrying around their room trying to get dressed in a fancy suit and tie, frazzled over something, while Mondo watches on fondly. After a minute of this, Mondo saunters over to Taka and wraps his arms around him tightly, muttering that it’s okay. They have over an hour until the party. It’s okay.

Taka sighs heavily, tension still within him, but fading as he holds Mondo in return, resting his head on Mondo’s broad chest. The pair stay like that for several minutes, just existing together.

Mondo muses about their relationship, about how it has progressed over the years. How it wasn’t easy at first and how living together made their tentative relationship a lot more complicated. But eventually they made it work. Taka was able to find Mondo some relatively inexpensive carpentry classes, and Mondo found he truly adored the art. He’d always figured he would, as he secretly loved watching those house building shows on TV, but he hadn’t realized just how much he would love working with wood. He was also good at it, to his extreme shock, and within a year he’d been able to find work at a small carpentry shop not too far from where Taka was staying.

Taka was always very supportive of his dream and spent many nights listening patiently as Mondo would ramble on and on about the things that he learned that day, or the things he made. The apartment they shared (Mondo insisting he pay for half after he stayed there for free for a month) was soon full of Mondo’s projects, Taka so proud of Mondo and all he achieved. Mondo is even currently building them a house to live in together, the pair having bought the land earlier that year.

Mondo was supportive with Taka, too, always willing to listen when Taka would express frustration at his internship with the local city council. Taka was often unhappy with how slow the system worked, wishing he could do more to help people and that he didn’t have to worry about bureaucracy all the time. Mondo would mostly listen and hum in commiseration whenever Taka would get on one of his rants, but a couple times he’d distract Taka from his troubles by kissing him sweetly, something he learned early on was a very effective distraction. As the years passed, Taka moved up in the city government and now has a fairly high position where he can do a lot more good for the general populace, though it was still very taxing on Taka. And as such, Mondo’s means of distraction got a lot less chaste, he thinks with a smirk.

Their relationship, Mondo contemplates, has always been a strange one, honestly. Especially at first. They never really spoke about it or their growing feelings those first several months. They just… kept going and learned as they went. There had been some bumps and hiccups here and there, some fights that seemed inevitable at the time but that probably could have been prevented in retrospect, but for the most part… they just worked. It would often baffle Mondo, the idea that they could work so seamlessly despite being so different on the surface, but he never really questioned it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth, right? As the years passed, they grew closer and closer, and at one point they started calling one another ‘kareshi,’ never really talking about it but knowing that it felt right. They moved into a bigger apartment together, began making financial and life decisions together, and throughout it all, they remained happy together.

All in all, things aren’t perfect for them. They have their problems like any couple does. For one, Taka’s father is still not exactly pleased at their relationship, but he’d given up trying to break them up years ago, to both Taka and Mondo’s relief. For another, their personalities are honestly very similar despite the differences on the surface, and that sometimes leads to some epic bumping of heads. But that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, does it? Not when— more often than not— they are very, very happy together. Happier than either of them ever expected they’d be. Mondo has even been contemplating buying Taka a ring, though it still is not legal for two men to marry in Japan. Just… as a promise. To show Taka he wants that. That even though their relationship progressed unconventionally… he still wants it.

Mondo pulls back from his embrace with Taka, smiling when Taka lets out a soft whine of displeasure. To placate him, Mondo kisses Taka gently, even though they need to get going soon.

[randomfandomimagine]

Adopting Kids With Zack Would Include

Requested by anon

Zack would make such an amazing father

But there’s just one little thing...

Honestly? He’s like one of the kids

He’s still very much a child at heart

And sometimes he’s too soft to be the adult

If they want a little whim, he’ll join them to let them have it

“Y/N, the kids want to go get ice cream! Let’s go get it!”

“Zack, they haven’t even had lunch yet” 

“Pretty please? Ice cream sounds awesome right now!”

And he’ll give you the dreaded puppy eyes

Other than that, Zack is an amazing dad

He loves them so very much, adopted or not

He’s supportive, mature, wise and can get on their level

Zack loves playtime because he just has as much fun as them

You can’t count how many times he’s fallen asleep snuggled with them

And you have to put a blanket over them so they don’t get cold

He would have been reading them a bedtime story or something

And as you tuck them in you feel lucky to have such a wonderful family

He’s so affectionate and dedicated, wanting them to feel loved

While also keeping their innocence and protecting them from the world

But at the same time educating them on certain things

It’s a very delicate balance, but you and Zack do really well

Zack also gives them great advice all the time

Helps them feel confident and stand up for themselves

But also reminds them to be kind and selfless

Going on many family trips together

The water park, the beach, the zoo, a theme park...

Sometimes it is a bit tiring and you have to go on little dates with Zack

Just to forget about that responsability for a bit and relax

Be romantic with Zack and have a nice dinner alone

But you both love your children so much, and they you

The kids trust you and know they can count on you

And they are affectionate and playful and adorable

Despite it all, sometimes he worries about being a good dad

“Y/N, am I too soft? Am I teaching them the right things?”

“You are the best father they could hope for” You comfort him

You would all be such a loving, adorable and wholesome family!

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @anxiouslyreckless​ / @xionroxas​ / @dancewaterdance02​ / @little-faerie-artist​ / @x-joie-x​ / @honeybunhanbin​ / @legallyblindgamer727​ / @trunks-kiwi​ / @ron-sparky-speirs / @imaginealllthefandoms​ / @lotsoffandomstoimagine // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[adorablele]

what would your moots be like if they were an aesthetic?

ANON I FINALLY DID IT. yes, I sat on this ask for a million years because I didn’t know any aesthetics and I still don’t know many aesthetics but I managed to get help (this is all thanks to leyna who gave me a whole bunch). so when I originally did this, I had a scenario in mind because I wanted to do it like how those people on uquiz do (like choose an aesthetic and it’s a scenario filled with imagery) but I don’t think the scenario captured the aesthetic well so feel free to skip over it an just go to my bulleted explanation lol. however, I’d like to mention that the explanation may not be the best as to why I gave that moot that aesthetic. ANYWAYS I DID IT AND NOW I HAVE THREE OTHER ASKS ABOUT MY MOOTS THAT I WILL SIT ON FOR LIKE TWO MORE MONTHS.

this was very long and has details no one asked for. and I didn’t proofread this so if there are spelling errors or just errors in general, sorry.

@nzeeten allie - minimalist 

A sneeze echoed against the walls of your attic. You brushed away the dust on the box, smiling faintly at the little scribbles on top of the lid. Opening it caused memories to roll down your cheek. A lump lodged its way in your throat and you couldn’t help the melancholy swell in your heart. Your phone rang. There were unfinished papers littered on your desk. Your laptop screen started to fade to sleep, work not saved. It didn’t matter to you. You didn’t pay attention to the weight of adult responsibilities, not when your younger self smiled at you.

ngl allie gives me these really mature vibes, and who knows, maybe it stems from the fact that she wants a be a ‘kickas*’ lawyer. the overall mood of this scenario is nostalgia but in no way shape or form do I feel nostalgic when I’m with allie. she’s very fun and chill and amazing and outstanding and i love her- anyways, somehow the nostalgic vibe fit with minimalistic aesthetic? like I pictured an apartment with very simplistic features but you can tell what that person cares about through the pictures or the items that they keep. hmm I’d see some polaroids in her moodboard if she had one; maybe a single rose (in the middle) surrounded by different thorns that have little memories in each one? 

@sleepingrenjun cherry - baddie (new moot that I hope she considers me a moot too dkslaf)

Even after everything, you still went back to business. There wasn’t a care in the world as you glanced back down at your screen, files scattered on your desk and fingers tapping away at the keyboard. There wasn’t a care in the world as a pack of cigarettes were thrown back onto your desk and loud slam of the door. There wasn’t a care in the world when you returned to an empty bed, one meal, and one toothbrush. You sat out on your balcony and stared at the unlit cigarette in your hand. You felt no urge breathe in its toxic fumes, a voice in the back of your head scolding you for even touching the death stick. Tears streamed down your face and you raised one brow, smiling slightly. ‘what a shame,’ you whispered, looking up at the stars. maybe there was a little care in the world. 

so maybe this is based off of my most recent tag. it popped into my mind when I thought of cherry. this most likely stemmed from breathe me and idk if it quite fits with the baddie aesthetic...anywayssss I was aiming for a heartbreaker vibe! because cherry breaking hearts out here with her fics 🤧 kind of a lonely lifestyle of a very successful business person who doesn’t care about anything but their business (they actually do care a lot which [spoiler alert] is why mc doesn’t smoke in the end). heartbreaker gave me a baddie aesthetic. 

@passionfruithyuck clarie- soft grunge, dark academia

No one visited the library. You didn’t understand why. This age old building was still in pristine condition, exuding out elegance like no other. The tables were lonely and the chairs were cold. The bowl full of mints never lessened, the counter always empty. Time was all but a concept once you invested yourself in the shelves that were still polished with youth. Each book had its own personality, each page filled with questions, answers, secrets. No one ever visited the library, and you didn’t understand why. 

uhm yeah so a pristine hidden gem of a library came to mind. this, I think, stemmed from the fact that she know12s multiple languages (so a lot of knowledge) and it’s an honor that she’s my moot (a hidden gem). clarie, to me, is lowkey bada** which is why she’s soft grunge. if she had a moodbard, I think there would be some pastel and books (maybe some idaf pictures).

@renjunwrites denise - cottagecore 

You always passed by the quaint little flower shop whenever you were on your way home from work. Every now and then you would see someone exit, but most of the time it stayed empty. In need of a bouquet, you visited the store. Vases full of flowers furnished the tables, some unmatched as they littered the counter. The petals looked delicate, so delicate you were afraid that your breath would shatter them. Each step you took padded softly against the walls, no sound other than you, no one other than you. Simply you and the flowers.

that blurb is 🤮 I’m sorry I’m bad at explaining things omg. I honestly pictured an empty, neat but messy, flowershop when I thought of denise. she has this delicateness (missing renjunlite, can’t lie) to her like flower petals. I also get a vibe that she’s an organized mess, hence the mismatched flowers (because it’s a beautiful mess). 

@jisvngy dahler - plant mom aesthetic

It was another day at school. Another day filled with ‘the bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do’. Another day filled with the scratching of pencils and shuffling of paper. Another day filled with slumped backs, bored eyes, and the slow ticking clock. It was also another day for secret notes, hidden jokes, loud lunches and knowing looks with your friends. Your friends. They broke your day dreaming, made you laugh, copied your answers, stole your pencils, distracted you during presentations, all mundane things. Mundane things that you would never forget.

ngl I feel like I would become friends with dahler through school and she would honestly be one of the reasons why I look forward to school. you may be wondering how this associates to plant mom but okay hear me out. this scenario is kind of like everyday life, you know? like small things. plants are in our everyday life, whether or not we grow or acknowledge them. uhm yeah so connect those two and yay an aesthetic for dahler! would picture some succulents in her moodboard.

@jeonginks eiko - e-girl, fantasy academia

you were always told to never take things from the forest. you were never told why, so you thought there was no harm to taking a rock because, well, it was only a rock. it was a pretty little rock lying near the clear stream of water that glimmered under the rays of the sun. the green leaves above swayed gently with the wind; it was peaceful here, you thought to yourself as you slowly started to walk back home, the rock heavy in your hand. with each step, the trees seemed taller, the sun seemed dimmer and the river sounded quite loud despite you being miles away from it. suddenly, you couldn’t move, grounded by the roots on the ground. the rock started to burn in your hand, so you threw down, only for the searing to continue. you screamed as marks were carved into the palm of your hand. from behind you, a voice laughed, ‘weren’t you told not to take things that aren’t yours.’

is fantasy academia a thing? if not then just fantasy. e-girl goes with her fashion sense (if I’m assuming correctly cause your boots) but uhm fantasy because of her writing. go on her page and you’ll see so many people call her writing magical. so with that in mind, this scenario popped up. now she could be the rock, or she could be the river, or perhaps the trees, or quite possibly, the voice,, who knows, I don’t know, that’s for sure. her moodboard would be filled with nature.

@haechaaaaaaanssi janna - mermaid/fantasy, medieval 

The fire crackled, ashes gracefully flying out from the orange hue and up into the darkness of the sky. Your marshmallow sat on the paper plate, your stick abandoned next to it. You weren’t around the bonfire, no, you were along the shoreline. The chatter of your friends was distant, much quieter than the sea. It was calling you. The waves beckoned you in, pulling you farther and farther away from shore. The sand wasn’t grainy anymore, it was softer, mushier. The full moon shone above you, a spotlight you didn’t ask for. You kept walking, entranced by the sound. What was that sound? Goosebumps rose to your arm, the water swishing at your waist. What was that sound? It was like the tick of a clock, the whoosh of the waves, the whisper of the wind, but that’s not what you were looking for. What was that sound? You were neck deep until you remembered, you didn’t know how to swim, but it’s okay. You found the answer to your question. 

okay i’m not saying that janna is a siren (who knows maybe she is)! this isn’t what i’m trying to say lmao. it’s just the fact that her work is so angsty and immediately popped into my mind when I thought of an aesthetic for her; somehow it led to fantasy/mermaid? like the ocean is mellow, beautiful and elegant but sometimes can be very powerful, loud and boisterous. in other words, janna can be exquisite and sometimes a mess. would see (obviously) the ocean in her moodboard, maybe a campfire or the night sky. 

@jensungf leyna - art mom/vintage

You struggled to yawn with a toothbrush slumped between your lips, arms up and above your head as the muscles tensed and the bones cracked. Your face was dazed with drowsiness and you languidly continued with your morning routine. But there was always something that made your mornings brighter. That something was the bakery down the street. Each time you stepped through the door, your nose was flooded with the sweet aroma of pastries. The taste of the treats were sweeter, always balancing out the bitterness of coffee on your tongue. You always stared at the crumbs of comfort on your plate, fascinated how it hugged you better than anyone you’ve met.

okay so maybe I should’ve put bakery as her aesthetic? but idk if that’s an aesthetic sooo,, but I can see her as an art mom aesthetic mixed with a little vintage. if she had a moodboard, possibly some fairy lights or some pictures of a really chill looking bakery, can’t not include sweet treats either.

@glossyjaems louna - skater, neon

Laughter filled the air, cracks of the bendable glowsticks echoing in the night. You twirled the one on your wrist, the green liquid neon against your skin. Mischief sighed with each step your friends took as they neared the metal fence. Your heart was pounding, hands clampy and eyes wavering at the faded red sign. It glared at you, ‘keep out’ it warned. That didn’t stop your friends, ‘and it shouldn’t stop you,’ they told you. The what ifs swirled on your tongue and rolled the eyes of your friends. ‘It’s going to be fine’ they reassured, and they offered you a hand. ‘Let’s live in the moment, yeah?’

ultimately really fun vibes. I pictured the recklessness of youth and dream’s go era when I thought of louna. would see like spray painting or maybe neon lights or glowsticks in her moodboard. 

@the32ndbeat // @juyeonzz qiu - vintage, dark academia 

You watched as people skied down the slope. Your hands wrapped around the warm mug of hot chocolate, the little pillows of marshmallows replicating the hills of snow outside. It wasn’t long until you heard the loud clamors of your friends as they made their way towards you. A smile found its way onto your lips as they bickered over whose snowman was the best. ‘Guys,’ you announced, causing everyone to quiet down, ‘clearly, it’s mine.’ back were the overlapping voices. You leaned back in your chair, eyes glossing over each of their faces. How funny that the impromptu road trip took you here. 

originally I was thinking summer vibes and the beach, but I already used the beach so why not the mountains? where there’s snow! cuz sledding and building snowmen with your friends is very fun. I know that this doesn’t really have anything to do with qiu’s aesthetic but when I thought of vintage, I got a lot of free-spirited, really chill vibes that I associated with road trips and friends. a lodge in the mountains and hot chocolate reminded me of dark academia somehow? yeah I don’t know how my brain works either. but anyways, I see books and hot chocolate in her moodboard if she were to have one.

@neocitybynight sunny - glam

Life was busy in hollywood. The snap of the director, the brushes of makeup artists, the tears of actors, the flashing of cameras, the questions of reporters, the tailors of dresses. At the end of the day, you always returned to your apartment on the highest floor. Barefaced, you change into an old oversized t-shirt, soft music floating to your ears as you think about your schedule tomorrow. The kettle starts to whistle, the boiling liquid warming the tea bag in your cup. The sun had retired, reminding everyone that the real stars weren’t on TV but in the sky. Though, cars still drifted the streets, lights still remained on, people were still awake. You opened up your book, a sigh falling between your lips as the drink soothes your throat. You glance once more out the window at the bustling city before falling into the world of your book. Life was busy in hollywood. 

yeah so this was what I imagined, I don’t know if that’s an aesthetic but I associated it with glam. like I also imagine those 90′s heartthrob edits if you were to make a moodboard for her. you could also fit in dark academia.

[faustonastring]

your take is bad. saying “i’m not saying you can’t feel x way about x thing” and then tagging multi-paragraph rants with insulting language in the LI hashtags is... telling people how to feel. if that isn’t your goal then why is it tagged? people are allowed to be upset, even if they used in-game currency. sorry, but the coins have monetary value whether you like it or not. people are pissed. the devs are not immune to criticism and neither are you

First I would just like to say this : I have a hard time articulating my thoughts into writing or words, so I can understand why you took it that way, but that’s not my intention. That doesn’t excuse what I said sure, but that’s not what I meant.

I didn’t mean to tell anyone how to feel, and I totally get why it came off that way, it’s hard for me to express what I’m thinking so this is gonna sound weird and all over the place so bare with me (not excusing what I said, simply explaining)

What I meant when I said that is: it’s simply just a game, and it’s not worth hurting people over no matter the circumstances. It’s one thing to criticize and it’s another thing to bash people because of simple change. My wording for that was not right, and I’m taking full responsibility for that, and I totally understand why you would be upset. I didn’t mean to tell any one how to feel, and I’m sorry if it came off that way that wasn’t my intention, and I hate to hide behind the excuse “I don’t know how to articulate myself” but I don’t, and I know it’s a shitty excuse, and I’m not trying to excuse my self, I’m trying to explain why it came off that way, I want to make that very clear.

When I said “It’s okay to be super pissed if you spent money on something and it’s now gone, but if you just used in-game currency, and not any of your real money, you can still be a little pissed, sure, but it’s not as big of a deal as actually spending your real hard earned cash on something.“ I didn’t mean you can’t be upset, I was giving my opinion on the matter and how I saw it, (which I shouldn’t have done looking back at it) not every one is going to agree with me. I do admit I worded that wrong, and I should of took more time to word that better, but that doesn’t change how I think. I then go on to explain throwing a fit about something so simple as a prologue change is childish, which it is. I wasn’t directing that at the person who sent in the og anon ask, I was directing it at people who bully and harass the devs for stupid shit.

The devs and I aren’t immune to criticism yes you’re right, but harassing and throwing a tantrum is not criticism. There is a difference.

“Criticism: the analysis and judgment of the merits and faults of a literary or artistic work.”

“Harassment: aggressive pressure or intimidation.”

It’s one thing to analyze the arcana and write about some things you didn’t like about a scene in a chapter that didn’t sit right with you, but it’s another thing to pressure the devs into changing the prologue back, or send them hurtful messages. They’re real people too.

And before you message me or send me another ask, I understand why you might try to say my response was “harassment” because it has an angry undertone to it, but I promise that’s not what I was trying to do, I was pissed. I do understand why it might come off that way, but i was just going on a angry rant, and if you want to talk about it, then pls message me.

And if something I wrote hurt you, please message me, so we can talk this over like mature adults. I’m not going to be mad, or expose you, or even dox you, (I wouldn’t want that to happen to me so why would I do it to you, ya’ know) and I quite frankly prefer if you did, so I can better explain my self, and we can try to find a common ground.

I do admit it was immature for me to say those things, and I should of thought it through more, and I’m sorry if I hurt or offended you, that was never my intention. I put some of my bad energy into that angry rant which I shouldn’t have done, and I truly am sorry. From now on I’m going to try my best to only write response to things like that when I’m in a good head space so I don’t hurt any more people. I know this doesn’t make up for any of the harm I might of caused you, but hopefully it precedes any future mishaps (and if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you please send me a message, I would love to make it up to you/help In what ever way I can)

And you’re right, the devs aren’t immune to criticism, but again there is a difference from criticism (which I rarely see) and harassment and people trying to rewrite their story and characters which I see far to often. And you’re right I’m also not immune to criticism. But that’s not going to stop me from voicing my opinion, and speaking up on some of the toxic traits of this fandom so people don’t have what could be their ‘safe space’ taken away from them. People aren’t going to agree with me, I understand. And people aren’t going to always agree with you either. This might be one of those things we don’t see eye to eye on and that’s okay. Like I said before, it’s okay to get mad but it’s another thing to blow things out of proportion, especially over a game. And maybe were just missing each other and if you want to respectfully talk this out I’m more than happy too, (it will probably help us better understand where we’re coming from)

And one last time, I never meant to say “ you can’t get mad over this thing >:(“ that was never my intent, but I sure as hell see how/why you think that. You have every right to be upset, you have every right to not like the devs. But don’t harass the devs because they changed something. It’s immature. The same type of immaturity I exhibited when I generalized and told people how to feel.

I hope this better explains everything, and again I’m sorry.i hate it when people tell me how to feel and I feel so god awful thinking I accidentally did one of my biggest pet peeves, even when I tried to avoid it. I really am sorry. If you want to talk to me about it, feel free to message me, or if you don’t feel comfortable doing that (I swear I’m not some big scary person) you can send in another ask, (its just a little harder to answer correctly because I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling, if that makes sense.)

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

who's your favourite 19 days character and why?

Hello, dear anon!

“who's your favourite 19 days character and why?”

At the moment, it’s a tie between MGS and SL which might sound confusing. And admittedly it is kind of difficult to explain. You might think that if I loved MGS the most, I wouldn’t have the same amount of love for someone who’s looking to actively hurt and manipulate him and overall make his life more difficult. But they’re on separate “most favorite character” lists in my head if that makes sense. I guess you could say I love and feel passionate about them for different reasons, and it’s impossible for me to say which “love” and “passion” is more or less to me. MGS appeals to me for certain reasons, but SL has become someone that is on a completely different list in my head and he’s the only character on that list. This is a fairly recent discovery I’ve made about myself, and MGS was my only #1 for a long time prior to this.

As to why I like them the most, here are some previous asks and posts about why I feel so strongly about them:

My favorite 19 Days character

Why do I relate to SL’s character? (aka why I don’t ship him with MGS)

Why do I think so many people love MGS?

My most favorite 19 Days chapters (the chapter with SL’s backstory as #1)

Extra:

My thoughts on SL’s sexuality

My thoughts on SL’s bracelet

My thoughts on MGS’s sexuality

I’m happy for MGS having such a great family

“Why do you keep asking”

I recommend checking out the first ones because I’ve pretty much answered the “why?” part in those. For this ask, I’m going to do little bullet lists to summarize what I have said earlier.

Why is MGS my favorite?

His tsundere nature. I love how he’s angry and scary on the outside but actually a surprisingly caring person on the inside. My heart will never not go soft and fuzzy when he’s low key showing concern for others while frowning and pretending not to care. He takes care of people by covering the basics: a hot, homecooked meal and a bed to sleep in. He might not agree to those things easily or without complaints but convincing him is surprisingly easy. Tsunderes are also a great source for comedy, and MGS’s character is no exception.

His backstory. MGS’s backstory is probably my personal favorite out of all the characters in 19 Days. His past makes my heart ache like no other. He was unfairly judged by others - kids and adults alike - and villainization at such a young age affected how he grew up and how he views himself. He’s a good, responsible kid at heart but so many people couldn’t see past their own prejudice when it came to him. As a teacher, I tend to feel strongly about these kinds of things. No kid should ever feel like they’re “bad”, especially for such reasons as family background. MGS’s character is someone I feel protective of in that kind of personal sense.

He’s a good boy. I’ve said in one of my earlier posts that the thing I probably love the most about MGS is his relationship with his mother. I don’t know if it’s still what I love the most about him, but it’s certainly close. Being a delinquent is what MGS shows on his surface, but how much he loves his mother (and family in general) tells a lot about who he is on the inside. He’s close with his mother, and she’s one of the few people who know what a good boy he really is. He works hard, is responsible and mature, and he’s had to give up on a lot of things because of their situation. For someone his age, MGS is handling a lot and his goals and priorities in life are different from those of his peers. And again, this invites protective feels because you want him to be able to be a kid, too. You want him to be more selfish and not worry about the things adults should be worrying about.

Toughness. It’s not good to always try and carry everything by yourself, but MGS insisting on not owning anyone or wanting anyone controlling him has been an important life lesson for him. Recently, he’s learned to trust and rely on others more but overall, the core toughness will most probably always stay with him. He wants to make it on his own and be independent. This kid has such willpower, and he will always put up a fight.

Why is SL also my favorite?

Manipulative. In my opinion, SL is the most intriguing character in 19 Days. He’s good at manipulating people and gaining a mental hold on them. He knows what makes people tick and how to take advantage of that. On the other hand, it’s difficult to tell what he really thinks and what makes him tick, what motivates him and why. We know relatively little about him, but he’s also hiding a lot of himself.

Complex. Another thing that makes SL so intriguing in my eyes is his complexity. As I said, we don’t know much about him, but the glimpse we got of his backstory (ch. 294) suggested how complex his relationship with MGS could potentially be. As a child, did he feel both envy and fascination towards MGS? How did those feelings mix in his head? He also seems to be obsessed about controlling and owning people and doesn’t want to let anyone escape his reign despite how many followers he already has. Is this a way for him to feel powerful or do these people fill some other needs as well?

Unpredictable and creepy. I love how you can never really tell for sure what SL’s going to do next. You always need to be on guard with him. His presence automatically raises tension. All the warning you might get before he pulls a knife on you is a side glace or a tilt of his head. Although, being this unpredictable makes me wonder does he always think things through properly? Is he incapable of controlling his impulses? That could be a bad mix with the hierarchy of the underworld and being able to follow orders. But I’m fascinated by how SL sometimes seems to follow his raw, blind impulses as if to see what will happen. Also, call me a weirdo or whatever, but I’m not turned off by his creepiness at all. I actually find it exciting because his creepiness is also difficult to predict.

Personally relating to him. I feel like I have to make it clear that no, I don’t have the need to own and manipulate people and I don’t wield pocket knives. But I do relate to the “misery loves company” vibe I get from SL and his relationship with MGS. I see many of my own shortcomings in him: jealousy, envy, and not wanting others to leave the same bad place I can’t get out of myself.

Character design. Yes, I have no problem admitting that SL’s character design is one of the reasons why I like him. I love the color combination of his grey hair and yellowish eyes and dark eyelashes. His character design was probably what originally made me like him so much. However, I may have come for the abs but I most definitely stayed for the crazy.

As you perhaps noticed, the things I’m attracted to in each character and feel passionate about are very different in nature. But both “categories” are pretty much equally strong in my heart. It might be difficult to understand how I can love both the abused and the abuser at the same time, but...I don’t know. Whenever I’m watching SL from MGS’s point of view, I feel like I manage to view him objectively. As in, I don’t think I’m trying to excuse his behavior or downplay it. I realize he’s hurting and manipulating a character I love and feel quite protective of but none of that has ever made me hate SL. Not even a little.

Thank you for your question, dear anon!

[tossertozier]

you mentioned possibly doing a ben or mike writing guide.. would you.. be willing to post a mike one. i'm plotting a fic and im struggling to get my mans down?? also i think abt ur fics weekly bare minimum.

hi there!!! i did my best. i tried to not sound preachy or like a know it all bc y’all know i can barely write. i hope this is helpful in some way!! disclaimer of of course this is all just my opinion & there’s no wrong way to write, you’re the only person who can tell your story!!

[[MORE]]

i think the first really important decision you have to make as Person Writing Mike is his

family & background

-are both of his parents alive?

-if yes, what’s their relationship like?

-if no, who’s his primary caretaker? what’s their relationship like?

-if no, when did they die? did he cope well with it? what’s his relationship with their memory like?

these are really really where you gotta start to write mike imo. or any character! i think one thing stephen king is to be admired for is he doesn’t neglect the parent-child relationship as so many people who write youth do. your parents are the most important people in your life for a long time. i don’t think there’s a wrong or ooc way to answer the above questions tbh. canon has really left a wide open field for you to run amuck in.

(example: i’ve mentioned in the past that my & tfat mike being a small adult is no mistake and intentional. it’s a bit of a throwaway scene, but i mention in on pointe that mike’s parents are coming. it’s intentionally done there too. mike is goofier, more outgoing, more immature in general in that fic in the small bits he’s in & that’s all a response to his familial life. )

culture + friendships

after you answer those questions, important follow up questions are:

-are the losers his first set of friends?

-how much social exposure has he had?

-has he dated? who is he attracted to?

-who influences him? (celebrities, family, culturally)

-what are his cultural interests? what does he do in his free time? how would that impact how he interacts with the rest of the world?

again, no wrong way to answer these. i’ve seen a super broad spectrum of indirect answers to these questions. even thinking about where he might pick up patterns of speech can make him feel much more like a realized character. i’ve noticed some people dip fully into aave to an extent that doesn’t even seem logical in their character’s current situation & it can really seem like a caricature, but i think to write mike without any sense of aave at all is a little ?? too. just be cognizant of it is my only real advice here. it doesn’t so much matter as long as you don’t forget who mike is which next point

humor & personality

-what do you think he would find (shows, comedians, youtube videos) really funny?

-does he have something he quotes often? something he started saying ironically but never stopped?

man i know i’m all there’s no wrong way to write mike !! in this post but i will say real quick that i think mike is funny and i don’t really respect depictions of him where he’s not. i think this is where the movies really just fucked up. book mike drops some of the funniest lines of the book. and honest to god tip is to write out a scene as you feel the urge too, look away for five minutes, look back and give half of richie’s lines away. (or... dialogue.) this sounds like a joke but it was what i did when i first started writing & tfat

i’d always be like “n the funny part goes... to richie.” and thats a fandom inclination too. nooooo. avoid this trap. it doesn’t even make sense. have u ever been in a friend group where only one person... makes jokes? that’d be genuinely so weird. especially bc if you give the joke away to someone else, you can also build on it. amazing things start happening when u start thinking of the characters in flexible patterns. like for example, i almost always give absurdist humor to stan now. wholesome to ben.

mike’s humor is largely situational to me. solid comedic timing & he’s an observant person. sometimes i read back my own writing & have to change the pov bc richies making jokes about things he would never ever notice to make fun of. mike would. mike genuinely sees all. i think he’s just got one of the most analytical brain of the losers. & i think intelligence is subjective and people are smart in different ways but i think it’s foolish to write him as anything other than incredibly intelligent both academically and emotionally. he’s just a natural observer and pattern notice-er. which brings me to my next mike thing:

love & selflessness

i think the biggest part of mike being harder to flesh into a fully realized person is the fandom tendency to make him kind and nothing else. here’s mike. he’s nice. next. bc the book kind of points out his selflessness in his decisions and it makes itself one of his strongest character traits.

especially bc nice seems to trump him having any other emotions. ...no?

i believe in general, but ESPECIALLY in the case of mike, that kindness is a choice. it’s one i genuinely believe he’d make, over & over again. but a choice he makes. he gets annoyed with his friends being annoying like anyone else would. he gets hurt when he feels left out. he feels tired & anxious & hungry and all those other human things. sometimes he might not let it show outwardly, but there’s a difference between that and not giving him feelings at all.

people are selfish. it’s a defense mechanism. it’s to protect us. it’s not a bad thing. we think of how the world impacts ourselves first. we don’t always act upon those thoughts or voice them, but don’t forget to let mike have them. he doesn’t need to be happy for his friends all the time, or rooting for them or supportive. he should have his own things going on.

also. mike’s not a doormat. yes, he stays in derry. but those were life-death consequences for generations of children. it’s really not comparable to almost any decision mike would make in a pennywise free universe. yes, he made a sacrifice in the book but i don’t think he’d just lay himself down in any given universe to whatever fate wants to hand him. but this is where i end this topic bc i’m actually only barely beginning to get to this topic in my own fic!

it’s hard writing the losers young sometimes bc i do feel relationships are naturally a little unbalanced based on basic maturity levels as young people. sometimes friendships just are unbalanced bc of who people are at that time. everyone involved can still be good people in these relationships. it’s about growing together and learning how to be good friends to each other.

for example, in &tfat: certain losers are always checking in with others. others are really wrapped up in their own shit and don’t really notice what bothers the others. it would probably take a chart the size of a textbook to explain how i think this dynamic wholly pans out in full. and yeah, i think it grates on mike a little bit that he is always the checker and never the checkee.

but even when mike snaps, even when he gets upset, i always write it coming out of him with a lot of love. i genuinely think mike, regardless of experience in that fic, has the deepest understanding of love as its own concept and an understand of how exactly it rules his life and and his relationships. mike knows to feel strongly about something he has to care about it. there are lots of things he just doesn’t care about. in the book it’s stated he’s difficult to connect with as an adult. he’s distant. he’s focused on what he wants to focus on. i think mike is actually the most interesting when he becomes a little bit of a disaster man with very little time for what doesn’t interest him.

which last thing, dislikes & disinterests

-what annoys him?

-what makes him genuinely angry?

-what bores him to tears?

i always make jokes that i bring up the nastier parts of the losers bc i love nasty boys but thinking of things people don’t like is as much a part of them as the things they do.

for example, in &tfat, i write richie as making fun of “nerdy” things like anything you could find at comic con. i write bev as not giving a fuck about sports. bill doesn’t care about richie’s music tastes. eddie hates getting condescended to.

bc of the ... kind thing, mike’s one of the harder losers to do this with. i genuinely think mike would listen to any of his friends tell him about anything. & he knows, in return, they can’t say shit when he wants to ramble about history. but dislikes can also be super situational.

again, for example in & tfat: mike doesn’t like when his friends talk about college right now. no one is really being sensitive to him at all. he hates getting blamed for stuff that isn’t his fault, mostly bc it keeps happening.

anyway. i based a lot of my mike (mostly sense of humor and personality) off of a mix of real life friends of mine. it’s a luxury. i know. i’ve been blessed to have friends from literally all walks of life & for me borrowing little habits & quirks & sayings & jokes to slip into my fics and characters is my way of writing one massive love letter to those ive known. i hope i’ve helped you in some way anon. n if not.... don’t be sad i’m hardly one to take writing advice from anyway jandjxjx

overall, as i used to do often, i’d genuinely stop myself and say: is this a person, or a convenience for the plot? and if it was the latter, sigh, and get my backspace key ready.

[wellknownwolf]

I want to move into a new phase in my relationship with fandom, as I mature with new experiences. I'm not sure what exactly that looks like though. What is your take on the parasocial affection inherent in an RPF like Rhett & Link? Or even the deep attachments that can form with fictional characters? Or a desire to emulate fantasy worlds? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable with all this, it's just that it's been a long time coming, and once I got started I couldn't stop. - Natasha (5)

First, let me post the full question, since it came in 5 parts:

Hey, it's me again. Your 'mystery inquirer', as you so adorably dubbed me. You're right, I had forgotten I'd sent in that ask. Just now, I couldn't help but think about a scene from Life After, as I am wont to on a frightfully regular basis, which is what got me back here. When you said you pondered over my seemingly simple, banal question for a good while, and wrote out a beautifully thoughtful answer like you always do, it made me happy.

Your narrative voice is similar to my own, and it made my chest ache in a certain way to have gotten such a response to what felt like a random shout out into the abyss (though it obviously wasn't, I sent it directly to you, I guess it's more what it felt like taking a chance on a conversation with a random stranger online). And now I'm cringing a bit at how melodramatic all sounds. But I'm committing to it, anyway. That's the beauty of anon, eh?

Wolfie (is it presumptuous to call you that? Please do forgive me the liberty I'm taking), I must admit. I'm quite envious of this community you have with @missingparentheses, @lunar-winterlude, and other wonderful people. Since childhood, I've been head over heels in love with fandom. Not a specific fandom, I've been a traveller through dozens, but fandom in general. I've read probably thousands of fanfics, spent countless hours daydreaming about beloved characters and their stories.

To the point where, in my most recent and worst depressive episode, it may have been for the worse, if I'm honest. Escapism and yearning to the point of impairment, engendering a sense of constant bereavement. But it's taught me so much about life and its wonders, I can't write it off as just some damaging habit. It's such an integral part of who I am, a deeply curious soul (shout out to my Enneagram Type 5-ers out there!). But I don't anyone to share it with, and it can get quite lonely.

I want to move into a new phase in my relationship with fandom, as I mature with new experiences. I'm not sure what exactly that looks like though. What is your take on the parasocial affection inherent in an RPF like Rhett & Link? Or even the deep attachments that can form with fictional characters? Or a desire to emulate fantasy worlds? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable with all this, it's just that it's been a long time coming, and once I got started I couldn't stop. - Natasha

.....................................................................

Thank you for giving me so much to respond to, Natasha.  Thank you for continuing to reach out.   I accidentally wrote something like a paper in response to your thoughtful question.  I even conducted a little research and cited a source.  ENGLISH TEACHER, ACTIVATE!

Also, for what it’s worth, I feel at times that I communicate exclusively through shouts into the abyss, so it’s a language with which I am at home.  In fact, it is this very technique, this experiment with intense vulnerability at the hands of a virtual stranger, that earned me one of my absolutely most-treasured friends: @missingparentheses.  I have poured out a great deal of my own melodrama to her, and she has received it and reciprocated it in a way that, three years later, continues to teach me how to be a better friend.  In short, I’m a firm believer in diving straight in when it comes to new friends.  Cringe not; I’m on board.

So let’s dive.

R&L is really only the second “fandom” with which I’ve been involved.  Third, if we count my preteen obsession with ‘N Sync (and considering how much wall space I dedicated to their posters and self-printed photos, we probably should).  My point is, while I don’t have much experience with the community facet of fandom, I do relate to your feeling of near-obsession.  Or clear obsession.  

I know the feeling of escapism you’re describing, and I know the yearning and melancholy that can come on our worst days, where we feel like “real life” will never measure up to the color and brilliance of the worlds we spend so much time considering. These worlds, these characters and their relationships, their challenges, victories, and defeats all seem so purposeful: they’re the plot points we use to craft the stories in our heads (regardless of whether we’re writers at all).  It can be much harder to view ourselves as protagonists worth analyzing, viewing and reviewing through new lenses, perhaps because we’re warned against navel-gazing, perhaps because our self-perception just won’t allow for it.  Maybe a little of both.

But yes!  It teaches us!  We DO learn about life, other people, love, risk, all kinds of things through what we consume in these fandoms, so I would never classify it as a “bad” thing.  We hone our imaginations and learn to pay attention to our own emotions as we recognize feelings from our favorite shows, games, books, and characters arising in ourselves.  

I used to be a little afraid of the fact that I was always telling myself stories, internally imagining myself as someone else, a player in the worlds I often loved more than my own.  I suspected that someday, somehow, I would be caught playing pretend all the time in my own little ways.  I was a bright and ambitious young woman, so why would I give so much of my mental energy to such frivolous pursuits?

In my first semester of graduate school, though, I learned from a Lit. Theory professor who intimidated the hell out of me that we all do this.  We’re all telling ourselves stories all the time, some of which are true and close to objective reality, some of which are more subjective to whatever fantastical (or fandom) material we last consumed.  I’ve whispered my own dialogue in the shower, but so have you whispered yours in your head (if not also out loud in your shower!).  And through this act, however it is performed, I have made those worlds part of my own.  So have you.  In this way, they are real, and I no longer feel fearful of being “found out.”  

When we have those moments of doubt, though, when we wonder whether we’re going too far, it probably stems, at least partially, from the “us v. them” divide between fandom and mainstream society.  We love our little worlds, but we also feel that twinge of anxiety that we might be bordering on obsession, that our guilty pleasure might be discovered and we will be socially punished for it, namely, as Joli Jensen writes in “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization,” because “the fan is characterized as (at least potentially) an obsessed loner, suffering from a disease of isolation, or a frenzied crowd member, suffering from a disease of contagion. In either case, the fan is seen as being irrational, out of control, and prey to a number of external forces” (13). According the consistent covert (and overt, at times) messages of the mainstream, “[f]andom is conceived of as a chronic attempt to compensate for a perceived personal lack of autonomy, absence of community, incomplete identity, lack of power and lack of recognition” (Jensen 17).  Yikes.  That doesn’t feel good to admit about ourselves, does it?  

Luckily, it’s bullshit.

Treating “fans” as others (outsiders, people who can’t form relationships or find fulfillment in the “real world”) “risks denigrating them in ways that are insulting and absurd” (Jensen 25).  Those who take this stance, who see fans as victims of hysteria or desperate loners, do so in order to “develop and defend a self-serving moral landscape.  That terrain cultivates in us a dishonorable moral stance of superiority, because it makes other into examples of extrinsic forces, while implying that we [members solely of the mainstream] somehow remain pure, autonomous, ad unafflicted” (Jensen 25).  In short, that us/them thinking just makes people feel better about themselves by pointing out an easily-identifiable “other.”

 I have also grappled with the concept of parasocial affection, particularly with R&L.  I was well into writing my first Rhink fic when the thought crossed my mind, “Oh my god, what if I actually met these people someday?  How would I look them in the eye?  I’d feel like a crazy person (again)!”  From the safety of the Midwest, I laughed off the thought.  And then a year or so later, they were announcing their first tour. And I was still writing, here and there, still deep in my affection for them, sometimes wrestling with the thought that I’ve devoted so much energy to people who would never know I exist.  

It doesn’t matter that the attachment was in the most obvious, tangible ways only one-sided.  As an adult who is ever-learning how to navigate the worlds of her own creation and the ones over which she has far less control, I view my intense attachment to characters both real and fictional with deep fondness.   And while I may not receive affection or attention directly from the sources (R&L, fictional characters, sports teams, who/whatever we build fandoms around), I am still earning some very real rewards for my involvement: Because of them, I found my way to a participatory culture in which I was supported and encouraged to express my creativity.  This gave me the push and interest that I needed to hone skills that have not only made me a better writer, but also a better teacher and mentor.  With fandom comes the ability to immediately strike up a conversation over shared interests. With fandom comes a sense of belonging in what we have proven is an awfully divisive world.  

Right now, I’m consuming far less fandom-related material than I did a few years ago.  I don’t really watch GMM anymore and I’m on a break from Ear Biscuits (though I still love it), Gotham ended over a year ago and I’m not in the habit of reading fics right now, and I can’t yet play the remade Final Fantasy 7, so that’s out for me, too (though I know I will fall deep into that well once the game is in my hot little hands).  This all happened by itself.  I never consciously moved away from these sources; I just floated on to other interests and other levels of interest, knowing that if and when I wanted to dig back in, I could always come back.  

I used to feel quite sad at the thought of someday “moving on” from these intense interests.  I couldn’t fathom somehow falling out of love with those bands, actors, or video games.  But for me, the transition into wherever I am now has not been painful in the least.  I’m glad I knew the intensity that I did, and I’m happy with the distance I have now. And there’s a good chance I’ll be fanatic about something else someday.  I’m looking forward to it!

 Here are some responses that I couldn’t organically fit into my essay:

Yes, you can call me Wolfie if you’d like.  That name started with @missingparentheses (her second appearance in this answer!), and quickly became a reminder to not take myself too seriously.  

Second, I don’t think I know any other Type 5s!  I’m a type 8. 

Also, here’s my MLA formatted citation for the Jensen source:

Jensen, Joli. “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization.”   The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media, Routledge, 1992, pp. 9-29.

[jonadioweek]

Destiny Bond

Title: Destiny Bond

Prompt: Crossover

Rating: There’s really nothing inherently romantic that happens, so citrus, but T rating because there are references to certain more intense things from the show.

Summary: Dio and Jonathan square off in a Pokémon battle, but some of his underhanded techniques bring up some questions about the death of Danny the Umbreon.

Word count: 3,651

Warnings/Tags: animal/Pokémon death, Pokémon AU, battling, writing practice

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Iiiit’s Speedwagon back here again with another fic for ya! I don’t know if this is what y'all meant by crossovers, but here’s a little Pokémon AU. I actually had a lot of fun writing this, as I attempted to incorporate the battle beats of Jojo into a Pokémon battle. This is less so a romantic story so much as an exploration of what throwing fantastical aspects in earlier on in their narrative would do in their dynamic. It was really fun to explore! I hope everyone enjoys even if it’s not exactly shipping (though there is a few hints at it in there). - Anon Speedwagon

The worst part about living in a big mansion was that when his father coughed, Jonathan could hear the heaving sound bouncing off the walls. The vibrations tore at his heart like a blade, and he had to stead himself, grit his teeth every time George went into a fit. It felt as if his own heart was withering away along with his father’s body. If there was anything he could do to have him well, even sacrificing his own wellbeing, he would.

Jonathan gripped onto the railing, looked at the doorway to George’s keep as the fit petered off into labored breathing, watched as the nurse rolled the medical supplies out on a cart, swaying happily as if nothing was wrong.

“Bliss!”

He kneeled down to her level once she came close enough, giving her a pat on the head. She was such a good Pokémon, dutiful at keeping George healthy as he could be in his time of need. She was intended to be a live-in nurse, designated by doctor’s orders, but she had, admittedly, become very close to Jonathan. She was practically his Pokémon. When his father got better–if he got better, for that matter–Jonathan didn’t know what he would end up doing when they had to part.

“There, there, Blissey. You’re doing great,” he spoke to her in gentle tones. Blissey gave a delighted cry, raised her nubs. Jonathan gave a laugh, but it was stale, hardened by the air of hardship and illness in their home. Blissey had obviously noticed this, offered Jonathan a pat on the shoulder and a soft reiteration of her name. “Blissey… how’s dad doing today?”

Blissey’s usually-cheery expression drooped. She had to look away from Jonathan, peering between the bars of the stair railing as if there were something there that was far more interesting than him. Though, Jonathan knew this was not the case; she did not want to elaborate on just how bad his condition was. Even if not for him becoming familiar with Blissey’s mannerisms, he had a keen sense of what Pokémon were feeling; it had always been something he was good at detecting, ever since young. That was why he had interacted so well with Danny, his beloved Umbreon.

Remembering Danny always brought heartache to Jonathan. Thinking about what had happened that day, the news hitting him intensely, the smell of charred flesh about the incinerator, the feeling of the raindrops at the memorial of the Pokémon… to this day, it felt so gut-wrenching, so intense that Jonathan knew he had to push it out of his mind. He couldn’t mourn Danny and worry about his father at the same time.

It did bring him to wonder though: How had Danny ended up in that incinerator? Sure, he could’ve climbed in on his own accord, though it was unlikely, as Danny was very intelligent. Another thing that bothered Jonathan about it was that even if the Umbreon had ended up staying in the incinerator, why hadn’t he been able to break through it with his moves? Jonathan had trained extensively with Danny in his youth, and Danny did know a fair set of attacks that could have easily gotten him out of that incinerator. It didn’t make sense.

Something was so wrong about the whole thing, and the young him had suspected it at the time, but it had long been neglected as he matured. But the face, the name, the culprit, Jonathan thought he knew, but he could never pin it on him. He had thought on that day, no he had known, even if he couldn’t quite recall it then as he attempted to block out the painful memories, who had killed Danny. And that person had to have been–

“Jojo.”

Jonathan looked up. There was Dio, standing at the top of the stairs, his Haunter looming over his shoulder. It gave a giggle and rested a hand on Dio’s shoulder, glared at Jonathan. As much as Jonathan loved Pokémon, something had always been offputting about that ghost-type to him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. Even Blissey seemed a little wary herself, though she was more of a healer than a fighter, so all she could do was cling to Jonathan’s leg.

“Hello, Dio.”

“How’s dad doing?”

Jonathan swallowed hard at this question. Dio had seemed concerned throughout this whole sickness, though had been infinitely more calm about it than Jonathan had. While wanting to know how your sick relative was doing was usually done out of geniune concern, when Dio asked, it was as if he were… waiting for something, as if the anticipation of George’s death was tittilating in a sense. Jonathan dismissed this though as Dio’s way of coping. Perhaps he himself was reading too deep into it all.

“Not too well. He had another coughing spell just a minute ago. Luckily, Blissey was there. Isn’t that right, Blissey?”

“Bliss, Bliss…”

She cowered under the stare of Dio and his Pokémon companion. Haunter only seemed to be amused by this. Dio seemed unfazed by her reaction. He let out a small noise of something that echoed concern, then stared out the window, watching the falling snow as it drifted down to blanket the ground. He was silent for a long time, so long that Jonathan felt it had been hours.

Eventually though, Dio did pipe up again.

“Jojo, could you do something for me?”

“Of… of course, Dio.”

“Trade with me.”

Jonathan was stunned at this request. He parted his lips as if to speak, and he felt a scolding quivering up in his throat. How could Dio ask to do something so trivial after being told that their father was getting sicker and sicker?

Jonathan paused before anything could come out though. He forced himself to relax. Again, Dio had come from a different place, and perhaps his methods of coping were different. Maybe he wanted to attempt to ignore the problem by filling the spaces with Pokémon? After all, Dio had been an excellent trainer since his days in the slums, shown by the time that he had bested Jonathan in a public battle. Perhaps that was what he felt he was best at, so he was attaching himself to the notion of his prowess to deal with his emotions?

“Uh… sure. What do you want to trade?”

Dio looked to his Haunter, cocked his head in its direction. It gave another laugh, earning another distressed sound from Blissey.

“Y…your Haunter?! But that’s your pride and joy…! You would–?!”

“Don’t worry. It’s a trade-back. I simply need to evolve it is all.”

Of course. Haunter evolved into Gengar through trade. It would make sense why Dio would want to temporarily swap Pokémon. Why had Jonathan even entertained the idea that Dio would ever trade that Pokémon to him permanently? Dio cared about that Haunter more than Jonathan had ever seen him care about anything.

That had been another reason why that theory that Dio had been responsible for Danny’s death didn’t work out in his adult mind. George had told Jonathan that day that Dio hadn’t come home yet, as he was at a Pokémon Center getting his then-Gastly taken care of after a battle challenge that had been issued by a kid from school. George had said Dio had shown the Pokémon to him. It had been in a state of paralysis after the fight, and Dio seemed very concerned.

***

“Welcome back, Armaldo!”

Jonathan chuckled as he gave his fossil Pokémon a pat on the head. It let out a delighted cry, snuggled against him. Who knew that something this old and this scary-looking could be such a sweetheart? Even though it had been gone from Jonathan’s possession for only a moment, both trainer and Pokémon had felt empty without one another.

Dio meanwhile examined the rounded frame of his newly-evolved ghost-type. The Gengar looked back at him, floated upward, flicked its tongue out in a taunting way and gave a shrill laugh. Dio let out a small “hmph” in response to this.

“Jojo, Gengar seems awfully excited about his new form. Why don’t we test it out… in battle?”

Jonathan was surprised at this proposal. Despite Dio’s battling expertise, Jonathan hadn’t been challenged to a battle by him since they had fought that schoolyard scuffle. Not to be boastful, but Jonathan thought to himself that he had gotten better since that fight and that he perhaps had a chance at beating Dio.

“Alright, Dio! You’re on!”

“It’s a one-on-one battle, my Gengar against a Pokémon of your choosing. I’ll be in the backyard; don’t keep me waiting.”

Dio walked away without another word, his Gengar hovering behind him. The purple Pokémon turned around, stuck its tongue out at Jonathan and pulled its eyelid down to create a taunting face, then laughed and headed out the back door with its trainer. Jonathan was undeterred, knowing how mischevious ghost Pokémon could be. He also knew not to let his guard down.

Jonathan looked to Armaldo, who was more bothered by the teasing judging by the way it growled and brandished its claws. He kneeled down to the rock-bug Pokémon’s height, patted its shoulder.

“C'mon Armaldo, we’ll show him.”

“Armaaaaal!”

***

The snow crunched beneath Jonathan’s boots as he headed outside. The sun had nearly set, tinting the sky a purple hue. The faint glow of a lamp guided Jonathan, and it dimly lit up Dio’s frame in the darkness. Gengar he could not see, but Jonathan knew it was lurking somewhere around. Armaldo gave a scoff, its breath showing up as mist in the air.

“Hmph. You took so long that I was beginning to think you decided not to battle.”

Jonathan gave a chuckle, clenching his fist. As Dio came into view, Jonathan could see that an area had been cleared out in the snow for their fight.

“I couldn’t turn down a battle challenge. It’s not in my nature.”

“Too bad you’re fated to lose then.”

Dio stood at the edge of the clearing, and in the darkness, Gengar almost seemed to materialize beside him, red eyes cutting through the night. It was chilling to see, but Jonathan was not frightened of it, Armaldo either. As they stepped into the field, trainer and Pokémon, they were both ready to take on this fight. Pride was at stake. For Dio, the undefeated streak he had, his prowess in battle. For Jonathan, the need to prove that he was a good battler in the face of opponents even like Dio. Winning wasn’t necessary, but the taste of victory would be sweet.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. The only sound was the harsh winter wind and the sound of a tree branch clattering to the snowy floor. Dio’s hair shifted in the wind, the glow of the lamp accenting its golden shine. He looked dangerously handsome.

Then, Dio stamped his foot down, putting himself into a battle position. The first command of the battle was then thrown out.

“Gengar! Disappear into the shadows!”

The faint silhouette of Gengar that Jonathan could make out vanished, and it gave a chuckle that echoed off the trees. Jonathan looked around for it.

“Stay on guard, Armaldo!”

The fossil Pokémon raised its claws in a defense position. Gengar was a fast Pokémon, Jonathan knew, and a very powerful one at that. The strategy was a simple yet effective one: Outspeed the opponent and take it down before it can even land a hit on you. Suitable for Dio. Yet, Gengar had one downfall: It had trouble tanking any attacks. It was indeed a glass cannon. Now it was a matter of actually getting Armaldo to land a move.

“Now, Gengar! Hypnosis!”

Red eyes lit up in the dark. They pulsed with the promise of an attack, though it was a rather slow one. Gengar was a fast Pokémon, so this puzzled Jonathan. Hypnosis? Why did Dio need to put his Pokémon to sleep?

“Armaldo! Interrupt the Hypnosis with an Ancient Power!”

Floating rocks surrounded Armaldo, and it let out a shrill war cry as it tossed the rocks at Gengar. A direct hit, even with Gengar’s speed on its side. The Pokémon fell down to the ground, stunned for a moment. It had stationed itself to commit to Hypnosis, and Jonathan had used this fact to get it.

“Yes!”

The Ancient Power hadn’t been enough to take it out though. Gengar sat up, enraged and embarrassed. Dio watched, a drop of sweat crawling down his temple. Despite this, he remained calm, collected.

“Gengar, calm down. Don’t let it hit you again.”

Gengar shook its head and flew back up into the air. It let out a growl, the air around its mouth seeming to come off like smoke rather than a fine mist. Even though Jonathan now had the upper hand, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. Armaldo wasn’t either, though it did seem satisified to wipe that smug grin off Gengar’s mug.

“Now, Armaldo! Use Knock Off!”

Dio seemed a bit thrown off by this. Armaldo moved quickly, quicker than before, and it jumped, raising a claw to hit Gengar.

“Q-quick! Dodge it!”

Luckily, Gengar was just fast enough to move out of the reach of Armaldo’s appendage, though barely so. It glared down at Armaldo, panting a little. Dio let out a low growl. How was it so fast? How could it nearly land two hits in a row?“

“I bet you’re wondering why Armaldo is so fast. Well, the move I used, Ancient Power, it has a chance to give a boost to all of the user’s stats, and Armaldo was lucky enough to get that.”

Dio took a step back, now understanding what had happened. Armaldo was a lot scarier with the stat boosts, now being able to tank a few hits and do much bigger damage. Jonathan knew this, and that was precisely why he had opted to use Anicent Power to lead. He could see it in Dio’s eyes, even in the blackness of the night, that he was a little nervous, that he recognized his skill.

“Well then, we’ll just have to take care of that speed, shall we? Gengar, Lick!”

Gengar stuck its tongue out, charged at Armaldo. Jonathan wasn’t about to let this happen, knowing full well what came with the move Lick. There was a high chance that Armaldo would get paralyzed, and that would end up putting them at a disadvantage against the hyper-fast Gengar.

“Armaldo, Dig! Quick!”

Armaldo quickly tunneled beneath the ground before the tongue could graze it. Dio let out a grunt of frustration. Jonathan smirked to himself; those long days of training were finally beginning to pay off.

“Oh no you don’t! Gengar! Get higher and use Hypnosis again!”

Gengar obeyed its master’s orders just as Armaldo had burst from the ground. It flew high up, eyes lit up with powerful energy. The pulsing began again, and Jonathan clenched his fist.

“Armaldo! Don’t let it put you to sleep!”

Armaldo moved away from the Gengar’s gaze, but its movements had quickly begun to slow. Jonathan gasped as his Pokémon fell down, back exposed to Gengar, asleep. Dio gave a chuckle, folding his arms. Gengar laughed as well, deeply amused by the landed hit.

“Hmph. That Ancient Power strategy was clever, Jojo, but your Pokémon can’t do anything if it’s asleep.”

“But… but how–?!”

Jonathan gasped when he realized. He looked at Gengar’s position, then down at his sleeping Pokémon. Of course. Hypnosis was a move that came out in waves that spread outward. By Gengar levitating high up, it not only protected itself from physical attacks, but the range of Hypnosis was further and therefore, no matter how far Armaldo could run, it couldn’t escape without leaving the battlefield. Had Jonathan let his guard down?

“That was… clever, Dio…”

“Now, Jojo! This fight is over! Gengar!”

Gengar floated down, feet landing on the ground. It chuckled darkly as its eyes lit up once again, an inky energy flowing from its body and into Armaldo’s.

“Your Armaldo is about to face its worst Nightmare! Now, Gengar!”

Gengar waved its hands, preparing its attack. But when it stuck out its hands to release whatever it had planned, the aura did flow, but it bounced right off of Armaldo.

“Gar…?”

“Now, Armaldo! Knock Off!”

Armaldo bolted straight up, turned around, smacked Gengar with its claw. Lum Berry juice dripped from Armaldo’s chin. Jonathan knew Dio used underhanded tactics in battle, so he had had the foresight to bring a status-healing berry to get them out of a pinch. Gengar let out a pained roar, then fell to the ground. Jonathan waited for it to get back up, but nothing of the sort happened. He looked to Dio, who seemed rather calm despite the turn of events. His Gengar was certainly down for the count though.

“We… won! We won, Armaldo! Great job!” Jonathan exclaimed happily and ran to his Pokémon’s side, giving him a hug. However, Armaldo was quiet, rigid in Jonathan’s hold. “Armaldo…? What’s wrong?! What’s going on?!”

Then, without warning, Armaldo went limp in his arms, threatening to fall down to the ground. It was caught by Jonathan though before it could hit the dead grass. He kneeled to balance the both of them. Upon examining his Pokémon’s face, Jonathan saw the issue.

It was fainted.

“But… why? Gengar didn’t even get a hit on it…!”

The dead grass crackled beneath Dio’s feet as he walked up to the scene of the battle. He picked up Gengar, took out a Revive from a satchel he had on him. He used it on Gengar, and the purple Pokémon’s red eyes fluttered open.

“I knew that Gengar couldn’t take another hit from your Armaldo. Though the trick with the Lum Berry was certainly an unexpected one, I had Gengar prepare beforehand just in case anything happened.”

“Pre…pare?”

“Tsk, tsk. I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet, Jojo. I’m a little disappointed.”

Jonathan’s expression had turned from one of determination to a puzzled anxiety. It was frustrating to know that Dio had a trick up his sleeve like this one, especially after he had won fair and square. Finally, he beat him, and now this? Dio slipped a Revive into the palm of Jonathan’s hand.

“Destiny Bond.”

Jonathan let out a gasp. Everything made sense then. Of course. Dio gave a smug grin, obviously satisfied with his wit.

“I knew Gengar couldn’t win in that state. That was why I had it use Destiny Bond before I started my sleep strategy.”

“That’s why…! A couple seconds before…!”

“Precisely. That dark aura you saw when Gengar first hit the ground was Destiny Bond. I wanted to take precautions before I even thought about beginning my assault on Armaldo. It would wake up eventually anyway, and it just so happened that it did so before Nightmare could get to it.”

“That’s… really smart…”

Dio stood, helped Gengar stand up. He gave it a resolved pat on the head, to which Gengar let out a delighted sound, accompanied by a titter. Jonathan used the Revive on Armaldo, and its eyes opened. It let out a defeated noise.

“It’s alright, Armaldo. You did great. The battle would have been ours if not for Gengar using Destiny Bond at the last second.”

“Indeed. Now, let us call this a tie and head back inside. I’ll say though Jojo, I am rather impressed. You are much better than the last time we fought.”

“Yeah… let’s go.”

Jonathan held out his hand. Dio clasped his own hand against his adoptive brother’s, giving it a solidarity squeeze. Then he turned to head back inside, Gengar following. Jonathan did as well with Armaldo, though paused for a moment before they were about to enter the doors.

Despite the sun having gone all the way down in the course of their battle, Jonathan could make something out in the distance. He had to squint, but he could see the outline of something cubical. His heart sank when he remembered what it was: The furnace. The furnace where Danny had burned to death.

And then, it hit him.

What if… younger Jonathan had been right about his suspicions? Yes, it was true that Dio may have been at the Pokémon Center when Jonathan got the news, but that didn’t completely absolve him from guilt. Jonathan had a theory, and if he remembered this correctly, it could finally explain what had happened to Danny. George had told him that Gastly been paralyzed, badly so…

Jonathan went inside. On the outside, he seemed cool and casual as he passed Dio. But, on the inside, his mind was burning hot with thought, so much so he felt a headache coming on.

“Night, Dio. I’ll see you in the morning. Great battle tonight.”

“Goodnight, Jojo.”

Once he had gotten up the stairs and away from Dio, Jonathan ran quickly into the library. Armaldo followed, confused by its owner’s sudden actions. Jonathan looked through books hastily, examined the spines as quickly as he could. He searched and searched until he finally found it: A book on dark-type Pokémon and their abilities.

He flipped through the pages, eyes skimming and examining the Pokémon that passed by. Then, finally, he stopped on the page when he finally found it. He looked through the information, and–

Tears pooled in Jonathan’s eyes. He dropped the book, clasped a hand over his mouth. His body twitched as he threatened to break out into sobs. If Gastly had incapacitated Danny before with its Lick, which would explain why he couldn’t have escaped from the furnace. But then why would Gastly have been paralyzed?

Jonathan’s beloved partner, his Pokémon… his ability…

“D-Danny…”

Synchronize.

[that-curly-haired-lesbian]

Like many other Gaylors, I'm fascinated with Taymily from a historical perspective. We know so little about it compared to Swiftgron and Kaylor, and wondering about which Fearless and Speak Now songs may be about Emily drives me mad with curiosity! However, I admittedly feel a little unconventional when people talk about Taymily without critically noting some things. First of all, I've heard from some people that Emily had a guy at home while touring with Taylor. (2/3)

I’m all for people exploring their sexuality, and Isupport open relationships as long as they’re honest and healthy, but if Emilyreally did cheat on a partner at home that’s not cool! Secondly, I feel alittle uneasy about Taymily because of the age gap between Taylor and Emily.Taylor was 16/17 when she dated Emily, and Emily was 21. I’m 17 now, and I’dfeel really creeped out if somebody older than 19 tried to start a romanticrelationship with me.

I don’t doubt that Taylor used to be very mature forher age as a teenager, but no matter how intelligent or wise you are as achild, an adult is still in an entirely different ballpark! There’s also thefact that as somebody way more experienced in the music industry, Emily wasprobably way more knowledgeable than Taylor about what a closeted relationshipwould entail. Taking that into account, I can’t help but feel sorry for Taylor.Emily left her when she was barely of legal age!

I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for Taylorwhen Emily decided as a fully-fledged adult that being in a gay relationshipwasn’t in her best interests after all, and that she’d rather have ‘a husbandand kids’. I don’t think Emily is an evil person or anything, but I reallycan’t ignore the power of position she was in this context. Do you get what Imean? (Also please just ignore my divisions now they’re a mess sksksksk I’msorry)

I hope I don’t sound accusatory in these asks, becauseI’m still as fascinated with Taymily as other Gaylors, and I’m not mad or angryat anybody for being interested in them. But I feel like it’s important to notethat Taymily may have been a bit ethically murky at the time, and that therelationship may have not been ideal or healthy. What do you think? I’m sorryfor spamming your inbox, and I hope this doesn’t annoy you ;-; Thanks forhearing me out!

–

Hello dear!

First of all you make a lot of valid points here and don’t sound accusatory at all, I think it’s really important to have conversations like this. Secondly don’t apologize for the divisions and the length, figuring out how much text fits into a tumblr ask is a serious pain and you are not annoying at all, I love getting long asks like this! Lastly, I hope that this ask is the first and not in fact the second one of all that you sent, because if the division on this one is correct I’m afraid I didn’t receive the first one.

Also sorry in advance if my response makes no sense it became somewhat messy at times…

Now for your points:

 Itseems Emily did have a guy back homeat some point, which I’m basing off of this comment by Taylor, astatement that she allegedly dropped when introducing Emily during the rest ofthe shows, causing some Gaylors to assume perhaps Emily broke up with the dudeonce she fell for Taylor and thus didn’t cheat on anyone, at least not for theentire duration of her relationship with Taylor (not that any cheating, nomatter how brief is okay, of course.) Although I can admit that the “whathappens in L.A stays here” is reminiscent of cheating, which noooo Tay!

According to thisarticle though, Emily married a dude she was friends with in high school, perhaps giving the impression to somethat she had been with him the whole time including her time with Tay, but thearticle makes sure to point out that they reconnected after Emily returned home having left her position in Taylor’sband.

Of course the boyfriend mentioned by Taylor inthat clip could have been a different man from the one Emily ended up marrying,but since Taylor dropped the “Emily-has a boyfriend”-part of her introduction Ithink it’s relatively safe to assume Emily was single for the majority of hertime working for Taylor.  OR the more funpossibility is that Taylor herself is the “boyfriend” mentioned in theintroduction and she’s just messing around, implicitly warning people not tohit on her girl :P I guess we will never know for how long (if at all) Emilyhad a boyfriend while being with Taylor, but I hope everyone broke up witheveryone else before entering a different relationship of course, regardless I thinkit’s safe to assume Emily is bisexual and might have been figuring that outduring her time with Taylor. (Not that bisexual people cheat or that figuringout your sexuality makes cheating okay in any way, just wanted to point out thefact that she’s most likely bi)

 Inall honesty the older I get the more uneasy I become with the age gap too, I firstdiscovered Taymily when I myself was 16 and at the time I had several friendsmy age who were all dating people in their early 20’s so I suppose in my socialcircles at that time that age gap didn’t seem too significant. Although Now I’m23, about a year-ish older than Emily was when she first started going out withTay and let me tell you, I would personally feel incredibly uncomfortabledating a 16-17 old at this point in my life and do now consider that age gap verysignificant.

I agree that Taylor has likely always been avery mature and wise-beyond-her-years sort of person, but that still mostdefinitely doesn’t make someone over 18 dating her at 16-17 okay, like you say, it’s anentirely different ballpark.

To be somewhat fair though, I do not thinkEmily was more experienced in the industry than Taylor, actually I think itmight have been the other way around, see Taylor had been writing songs in atleast a semi-professional setting since age 13 or so, Emily just applied to thepoison of fiddle player for The Agency (not yet called that at that time)straight out of college where she to my understanding had been studyingsomething unrelated to music, I don’t think she’d been doing music in such aprofessional sense before joining Team Taylor. 

Iwant to state before I continue that I am not defending Emily the adult’s decision to enter a relationshipwith a minor, but I can imagine thatliving in such close courters and being on the road trying to figure thismusic-industry thing out must lend itself pretty well for unexpected  things to happen between people and I do notthink either of the two planned to fall for each other. Was it inadvisable andunprofessional and like you say a little ethically murky? Most definitely, butit did happen regardless of anyone’s intentions, just as things in life tendto.

 I do feel like had Emily stopped to reflect on the decision she would’ve mostlikely come to the conclusion that a relationship with Taylor wasn’t the bestidea from an image or closeting standpoint, but I do not think either of themwere prepared for the pushback their relationship would receive from managementand I do believe the Emily’s forced dismissal was out of both of their handsand it likely wasn’t Emily’s intention to leave so abruptly.  That being said I do think Taylor held on tohope that they’d be able to be together romantically regardless of the firingand I do think Emily shot her down there. Without a question it would have beenEmily’s responsibility as an adult to look at their relationship more clearlythan Taylor could and I agree with you that choosing not to do so most likelyput Emily in a power position that is indeed hard to ignore!

 Asfor Emily’s comments about leaving Taylor because she “wanted a husband andkids” that does strike me as some powerful internalized homophobia which makesme sad (Em, gay people can have those things too but okayyyyy) And I too oftenthink about how upsetting and borderline traumatic the whole experience ofthe firing, vigorous closeting by management and breakup that followed that must have been for Taylor as a teenager. I do think that’s the reason we gotso many heartbreaking songs (such as All Too Well) where it does appear she’sworking through some serious life-altering trauma related to her love life andalso by extension all of the bearding and closeting that followed all of this.

As mylast point I just want to make absolutely clear that this is all speculation asto what happened between Taylor and Emily and how their relationship playedout, we will never know the facts. Furthermore, we all know that I am Taymily trash and will continue to enjoy this ship to the day I die, but this is a super important conversationto have as we continue to explore Taymily and other of Taylor’s relationshipsin an analytic light!

Thankyou so much for these asks, anon! 😊😊😊

[icyhotexplosionwritings]

Okay, so I actual don’t write angst scenarios (bc I’m a baby and I am way to emotional invested in my own writing orz) and THAT is why this could have been WAY angstier than it is right now and I know out there are literal ANGST MASTERS who probably would have done way better with this request than me, b-but… Even though it is not THAT angsty(some of you guys are probably like, pf, angst? Have you seen angst before, Celine? This is puppies and rainbows compared to some real angst; and I know... I am just rly bad with angst so it is rather... a little drama and then happy end? XD); Though, I was super happy I could write for my owl son Bokuto; I am just bad at refusing a request and I actually quite liked the idea, actually; ugh I hate letting you guys down, sorry anon, but I hope you can still enjoy it a little ;A;

----

No. No please. This couldn’t be happening right now. Looking at the pregnancy test between your fingers you started shaking, trying hard to not start crying. How could this have happened, you were always using a condom, since most of the birth control pills you took affected you negatively.

Reality hit you, it probably broke a few weeks ago, that was the only logical explanation, but this… this was not the right timing. You were only 20 and your boyfriend had a very promising volleyball career he had been working on ever since you knew him.

Right now, you were glad that Bokuto was at a meeting with his team, because you couldn’t help but cry, however you also made a decision, a decision that would be hard, but would save his career, because you didn’t want to be the one ending everything for him.

You knew Bokuto, he would take responsibility, he would be there for you and that is exactly why you wouldn’t tell him, because you wanted him to chase after his dream and not be worried about you and your child.

....

“You’re acting weird, F/N…”, Bokuto’s curious golden eyes were examining you. You jumped a little. “What? No, Kou, you are only imagining things, I guess I am just tired.” You tried your hardest to distract him with something else, talking about how his training was going. It had been two weeks since you found out you were pregnant and slowly you knew it was showing that somebody was growing inside you. You couldn’t run away any longer, today it had to be done. Just hearing how excited your boyfriend was, hooting like a little kid who got a candy he was talking about how he felt spiking the ball, having a professional team behind his back. You only laughed, you liked hearing him this excited and it made everything a little bit easier.

At night, when Koutarou was sleeping soundly beside you, you gave him one last kiss, his cute little snort making your eyes all watery. “I love you, Kou, so much, please forgive me for being selfish.”, whispering you combed through his freshly washed hair, before you carefully removed his arms around you, not waking him up.

You kissed the envelope one last time, a tear dripping down on the paper, before putting it down on the kitchen table so your boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend, could see it when he would wake up in the morning- thank god not even an apocalypse could wake this man. Wiping away your tears, you took your car keys, since you had packed your suitcase yesterday, knowing that today would be the day, and you hid it inside your trunk, only taking the things that were most precious to you and you needed for a new start.

Looking back one last time you rested your hand on your growing belly, softly stroking it, whispering, “I’m sorry you won’t meet your Daddy, but I’ll make sure to tell you about him, I promise little one.” Turning away, you started your car, leaving your current life behind.

…

The next morning, Bokuto was waking up, but you were not in his arms, which was a very rare occasion. No, rather, your bedside was cold as if you hadn’t even been sleeping here tonight and soon, the worry hit him. You had been acting weird the last couple of days, he could see and feel it, so this worried him. Quickly jumping out of bed he rushed through your apartment, opening every door, calling out your name with his typical boisterous voice. “Where are you, F/N?!”, he bit his bottom lip when he entered the kitchen, searching for you, but you were nowhere to be found.

When he saw the envelope he could feel his stomach turning. This was not true, right? This was just a letter, you were probably just shopping, right? He didn’t have to worry, right? He was this close to falling into one of his depressive states, before even reading the letter, so he tried his best to get it together, as he reached for the envelope, opening it and reading what you had left him.

Dear Koutarou!

I know, when you read this you probably know what is going on but are in denial.

I am sorry, I never thought I would one day have to write a letter like this to you. Kou… I am gone. Please don’t look after me, you won’t find me.

It’s childish, right? I couldn’t even be adult enough to talk about it face to face with you, because I knew you would have tried to stop me and me being weak when it comes to you, I probably would have given it. But Koutarou, I had to make this decision.

I know you probably overthink everything, now. If you did anything wrong, but let me tell you – no. You did nothing wrong, you were always there for me, I had so much fun being with you and I felt loved and I loved you too, Kou, there is no one on this planet I love more than you, please don’t think this was easy for me, but some decisions in life hurt us deeply, this is one of them.

Kou, please don’t think about me too much, concentrate on your career, I want to see you on TV, so don’t ever give up. Be happy again, find someone who can make you truly happy.

In love, F/N

His knees were weak, his legs shaking, gripping the letter tightly some tears made their way down his cheek. “But, F/N… no one can make me happier than you…” and that’s when he broke down on the kitchen floor – sobbing.

Of course Koutarou tried calling you, but you had changed your number and even though you said not to search for you, he tried, he tried to find you, but you were gone, like you said.

….

Months went by and one hot summer afternoon a scream echoed through the hospital room. You had a lovely little baby girl, naming her Natsuki and she had the same sparkling gold eyes as her father, well… to be honest, the only thing she had from you was her cute little nose and the shape of her eyes, everything else was Bokuto – and it hurt. But it also made you happy.

Years went by and you tried dating, but no one ever made you as happy as him, so after four dating fails, you decided to stay single for a while, dedicating all your love to your little Natsuki and whenever her Dad would be seen on TV you made sure to tell her; you wanted her to know and whenever she would ask why Bokuto was not with you two, you just told her, “I’ll tell you when you are older, Natsu, I promise.”

Bokuto himself also tried to go on with his life. Even though it was hard, he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent this, you made your decision to leave him and he had to accept it. At the beginning he felt a lot of hate towards himself and it affected his performance, however he made sure to not let this chance of being on the national team slip, so he got himself together again, thinking “Watch me, F/N!”

…..

It was pure coincidence. His team came back from China and they all finally deserved a holiday after fighting with everything they had, getting them the silver medal. He was alone when he traveled all the way south to Okinawa-Islands. He needed to just do nothing for once, so this was perfect, however he didn’t think this would happen.

It was the third day after his arrival, he was just walking alongside the road, the beautiful ocean sparkling in the background, when he heard something. It was a laughter he hadn’t heard in over 7 years. Wait, this couldn’t be it, right? Ah, but there it was again and this time, there was also your voice, “Natsu! Don’t run, you’ll trip!”

On the other side of the road, there you were, a grocery bag in your hand, the other covering your mouth a little. “F/N.”, it was not really loud, but it was enough for you to halt for a second and look to the other side and there he was. “Kou…”, the bag of groceries fell out of your hand, your eyes wide, he still looked like before, only a little bit more mature. “Mommy, what is it?”, Natsu grabbed your hand, concern in her golden eyes, before she also looked across the road, curious as to what you were looking at, or better who you were looking at…

Natsuki had seen her father multiple times on TV, giving interviews and playing on the court, so when she saw him, it was crystal clear to her, that this right here, this was her father. Her face lit up and even though she was a very well behaved and raised child, right now she just sprinted full force over the road, without thinking or looking. “DADDY!!!”, screaming, she didn’t see or hear the car coming down the road.

Bokuto couldn’t believe it, there was a little girl by your side calling you mother and she looked… so much like him. So, you were pregnant? You had raised a child all on your own these past 7 years. Why? Why didn’t you say anything, he would have taken responsibility. Shocked, he couldn’t move at all when the little girl screamed, her arms wide open, running towards him, when he suddenly heard a car and as he slowly turned his head, it started honking and a terrible squeaking sound was heard from the friction of the stopping wheels on the road, your scream in the distance, “NATSU?!?!”

Thankfully his legs were reacting way faster than his brain was, because if he would have waited any second longer… He started dashing too, grabbing the little girl under her arms and only centimeters away from hitting the side mirror of the car, he wrapped his arms around her, stumbling to the other side of the road, before completely falling down on his knees, kneeling in front of you know.

You were shocked, your knees were weak and you thought your heart was about to stop beating. Tears were trickling down your cheek, you thought that was it. When the car came to a halt, the driver screamed through the open window, before driving off again, but you couldn’t care any less, right here, right now, your daughter was save and the one who saved her was no other than her father himself.

Bokuto was the first to react, he rose from his position, now standing in front of you, Natsuki clawing at him like her life depended on it, she was clearly shocked too and before anyone could have said something Bokuto was raising his arm and only a second later he also pressed you against his chest. “Kou…” You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t hold back and started sobbing, clawing at his shirt, the other hand holding onto your daughter’s hand, gripping it tightly.

Natsuki looked up, tears streaming down her face, before she reached out to touch Koutarou’s cheek, making him jump a little before turning his head to look at her and even though she was crying, she had the most radiant smile on her lips that he had ever seen. “You are finally here, Daddy…”, before breaking down completely, crying and sobbing, she buried her head into his chest.

Bokuto was almost crying himself, all those years, he never knew about his little family, but now that he held you both in his arms, he knew one thing for sure, “Yeah… and I’m never leaving again, little owl!”, because he would never, ever let you go, not after finally having you in his arms again.

[moonraccoon-exe]

please consider,,,since Cor just couldn't give up the sunshine ball he rescued and now gained a tiny child,,Cor is young, he doesn't know shit abt child care but certainly can't leave Prompto alone (he NAMED it. he scolds himself. now he's attached) plus tiny Prom latches onto him like a vice, so he takes giggling baby Prompto with him to the citadel. there are many stares and coos at the smol adorable baby, but Cor's still too intimidating for people to ask or approach To Be Continued

[Gonna add a Read More]

Wow. 

That’s it. I have nothing to add. This...this whole thing, just... hnfdngndg

I thought it’d only be a baby Prom & Noct story, but it grew with them growing in it until marriage itself. Now I feel like poor Cor when he realizes his baby boy has grown. All those years they spent together, how they met so tiny, and now they’re married and I’m-

*sniffles*

Anon, don’t forget to come back to see the notes every now and then, because the notes that it gets, it’s all for you. It’s my post, but the entire post is made by you. It’s your story and it’s your mind and it’s your writing, and honestly even if I wanted, I can’t add anything because the story is complete and wonderful already, there’s not much I can do anymore. It begins, grows and ends where it has to. 

So any notes this gets, they’re all yours, I had nothing to do, and I think that’s awesome

Anon, I loved it. So much hnnfdgndf. Every single one of the entries has something that had me smiling big and sincere, there’s so much fluff and funny things in this whole story, I couldn’t stop smiling. The entire thing is so enjoyable, it’s not one of those “this is good,then a bridge, then this is good” like, for example, I so often do. Yours flows into “allthis is good” way, not dropping too low and not rockting too far up, always in balance and a very enjoyable one.

That’s so good. The story is incredibly sweet and so wonderful, so, so wonderful :’)

If I tried to tell you my favorite bits I’d just repeat like 3/4 of it. Hnfdgnfdg, but goddammit I have to say stuff about my favorite stuff from here.

1. Cor not able to get away of Prom. How can he? The sweet adorable thing, hnfdkgodf, Cor was still young when Prommy was a baby. Imagine how much Baby Prom melted his heart, not only was Cor young and it damn takes something damn big to take the responsibility of a child, but it’s also a rather introvert, kind of cold (in appearance, at least), and absolutely inexpert man.

I imagine Cor must have grown so empathetic and must have felt so bad and didn’t want to leave the poor baby to some adoption center where it wasn’t even 100% sure somebody would adopt him. Young, inexpert Cor thinking the child has suffered enough, he doesn’t need more, and decides to take him in. *starts crying* what a pure heart, ofdjgjf, this young man, he doesn’t mind the responsibility and he’ll do a great job, just so Prommy is happy ;A;

2. Cor attending work with the child, not having a clue about child care, hoping to ask Clarus for help. Young Cor that took Prommy in despite having no clue, but willing to ask for help and to learn. Cor is behaving so maturely, he’s a bit awkward and possibly pretty scared about this, and he doesn’t want to ruin it, so he’lll go ask for help. Cor, the Immortal that can do anything (so the rumors say, even though he knows it’s not true), scared, insecure, and reaching out for help 3

3. Regis carrying with Noctis to “show him his kingdom” meaning to go say hi to everyone and everything. REGIS YOU ADORABLE MAN. He’s carrying Noctis around to say hi to everyone. And everything? Please tell me they’re saying hello to the birds, and the little worms, and the trees and flowers, and the elevators too because Noctis thinks they’re alive ;A;

4. Regis loves kids and beelines towards Cor as soon as he sees Prompto. Beelines. That’s one of the funniest verbs I’ve heard or seen because it’s funny because all I imagine is Regis like “GASP” then heading straight there like it’s a necessity and honestly it is, BABY PROM IS ADORBS. I love the idea of Regis being so fond of kids

5. Regis baby talking in front of all Glaives. If I was a Glaive that would be both awkward and SO CUTE and so good! That my king, the dude I work for and whose magic I’m handling, adores kids and doesn’t fear “looking like an idiot” and just treats the baby so good, it speaks so good and great about him. Only troubles is I’d stop training to just stare and aw because REGIS YOU ADORABLE MAN, baby talking to an adorable tiny Prom, and Prommy’s laughing and staring up at him with these huge blue eyes and Regis is poking his nose and haskdsdjfdsdfspdjfaofjop

6. “Baby Noctis, ever the gentleman, smacks Prompto on the face” sweetest baby to have ever existed. Also this sounds very canon.

7. The fact that Regis loved baby Prom so much he indirectlly commanded Cor to bring the child to the royal daycare so he can be raised with Noctis (and it just so happens that, oh coincidence, near  Regis. I see what you did there, smart, child adoring king)

8. The contrast of happeh baby Prom vs poker face Cor. UHM. YES. YES AND ALL MY YES Everyone wondering just WHY the kid is SO DAMN HAPPY and excited to see everyone and to say hello to everything and why he laughs so much, if he’s being raised by....the Marshal. And it’s not that the Marshal is boring, he’s just, does he ever smile? Does he ever do anything with the face? Has he ever laughed? And those that know him better, they know Cor’s not dead inside, he’s just super introvert. So how is this kid this amazingly eager and hyperactive little ball of laughs if his dad is...well...scared of asking for pizza via phone so he does it through the internet and can’t stand large groups of people and sometimes responds to “You too” whent hey tell him “Happy birthday”?

Omg awkward introvert Cor, I need to do something about that I NEED IT.

9. Noctis actually wakes up early because Prommy’s arrived

10. Regis added AN ENTIRE LIBRARY just for photos of these two adorable babies. HOW MANY PHOTOS HAS HE REQUESTED TO BE TAKEN!?!?!?! Ofgjidofjgosidf, the quantity of ADORABLENESS. That mine of gold and adorable baby photos, I bet they have a photo with a theme for everything. Chocobos, moogles, cactuars, tonberries, behemoths, sonwflakes, flowers, there’s photos for every thematic that can exist, and the damn babies are the protagonists, usuallly in disguise. And not to count all the photos with just casual clothing, and not to count the “formal” ones!!!

11. “the best of friends and the worst of trouble. (Noctis is the instigator, Prompto's there to help)“  did you. did you just write the perfect summary of Promptis

12. Prompto as Noct’s motivation and eventually helping by training with him, too. UMG. EXCUSE ME. HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY HEART LIKE THIS. introvert, insecure Noctis, the poor thing probably did have struggles growing up and training, possibly getting easily discouraged (mostly by himself and his own head). Prommy by his side would have been A BLAST. SO, SO WONDERFUL. Prompto and his attitude of “Let’s keep it positive, but if you want to cry that’s okay too, I’ll cry with you”. I swear to the heavens, it’s one of the best attitudes ever, even more and so useful when dealing with someone like Noctis. 

IT’s such a wonderful treat. This one idea, I treasure it in my head now, because it’s so pretty. Prom helping him to realize he can get better, he can do better, and to not give up. They only see it regarding training, but honestly that can be a metaphor too and I think it’s beautiful that they grow with that dynamic

13. Both boys still napping together, even when growing older. HNFGNDFGNFGDFFJGSDFJD, First thing I thought about  was some of those photosets where first is a puppy in a tiny bed that fits it very big, and second photo is that same dog, an adult, but that grew so attached to the tiny bed that it still uses it even though it doesn’t fit anymore and looks ridiculous but so damn adorable at the same time ;w;

Now I picture baby Prom and baby Noct curled up together, those tiny creatures , and then teenage Noct and Prom in the same poses. Such tiny little babies, having grown so much, yet they’re always their same, deep in the soul and in their essence. Years may go and experiences happen, but they nap together liked they grew used to, net to each other.... this touches fragile threads in my heart, it’s so damn beautiful and cute //3

14. The fact that Cor can be “Immortal”, but he chokes when Prom first tells him about his crush on Noct because omfdgf Cor can infiltrate Niflheim on his own to the very heart of the empire and fight a war on his own, but please, please do something and help him; his baby boy has grown and is in love!

Ohgods no, Cor’s poor heart. All the struggle he went through to raise this boy, their story, all that he did for baby Prom, and always acting like he just “Eh” and always serious and cold and unmovable, suddenly feeling his heart drop because THIS IS HIS BABY BOY. HIS BABY BOY, BUT HE’S NOT A BABY ANYMORE 3 And he’s in love. And ohgdfg Prompto, PROMPTO, Prompto,my baby little boy...when...when did you grow up so much????

MY HEART. ANON THIS TOUCHES DEEP IN MY HEART, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, STOP, THIS WILL GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK BECAUSE IT’S SO DAMN CUTE, AND ALSO TOUCHING AND MOVING, AND ALSO PRETTY AND HELP ME ;_____;

15. It’s a fixed universe in which shit didn’t go down and the journey was just the four boys hanging together to see the world!!! YES. YES. I mean I LOVE the canon story but FIXED UNIVERSE HEALS MY WOUNDS AND EASES THE PAIN AND PROMPTIS ARE IN LOVE AND IS THIS A PRE-HONEYMOON BECAUSE THEY ALREADY KNOW THEY’LL MARRY EVEN THOUGH NONE HAS SAID ANYTHING ABOUT IT BUT IT’S JUST SO CLEAR?

This means Gladio doesn’t get the second and third scar and doesn’t get traumatized, Iggy keeps his sight, Ravus probably has his arm and is happy and was never taken by Niflheim (where did he come from in here? from my heart that loves him and I had to mention him because I desperately need a fixed universe for him), Lunafreya is alive (and is a hardcore Promptis shipper), the Regalia lives, AND SO DO CLARUS AND REGIS and everything is happpy and Prompto and Noctis are in love, and the guys lived as it’s supposed to; free, seeing the world, living experiences.

I need this more than oxygen ;n;

16. Regis cried even though he already knew ;A; Need I say more? This man breaks and heals my heart at the same time, hsngjdfg, how can so much love and sensibility fit in one single human being omfdg Regis I love you ;____;

17. Noctis is secretly paying for nearby chocobo ranches just to make Prom happy and so they can go ride together and have fun together. Need. I. Say. More. Noctis odmfgiofdhgdfg he just wants to make Prom THE HAPPIEST PERSON ON EOS, and if to do that he needs chocobo ranchs nearby HE’S GONNA PAY FOR THEM with the money that he earns from his job as a prince and HE’LL GLADLY WASTE ALL HIS PERSONAL MONEY ON IT YOU BET.

18. Noctis spoils and pampers Prompto, YES but what do you mean “during dating”. IT’S OBVIOUS IT’S ALL THE TIME AND EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEIR DAYS TOGETHER UNTIL THE VERY SAME DAY THAT THEY DIE. HNFDGNFDGNFGF, pampering Prompto is important and necessary and I want him to be happy FOREVER and Noctis will pamper him and you know what, Prompto will pamper Noctis as much, Noctis needs all the pampering too, these boys are wonderfully precious and they love each other so much and they spoil each other ;A;

19. Noct and Prom young, engaged and married. Prince Noctis and his husband prince-by-marriage-but-prince-after-all Prompto, loved by the kingdom.

*STARTS COMBUSTING*

HOW DARE YOU THROW AT ME A PERFECT STORY THAT ENDS IN MARRIAGE, HOW VERY DARE YOU I AM DED, THESE BOYS ARE SO HAPPY

AND THEY’RE MARRIED. AND THIS IS A WONDERFUL STORY AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING.

Of course the kingdom will love Prom! And I’m saying he’s prince by marriage because it’s a fixed universe, and that means Regis is alive and still the king and he’s the happiest father in law that has ever existed. ;w; He adores family dinners with Prom, Noct and Cor. The proud papas and the wedded princes, one precious family. Two separate small families that become a big one. 

And the kingdom exploding in joy when they announce Noctis’ marriage, and Prompto being so nice to everyone. Always, since loooooonger before he even grew his crush on Noct, attending animal shelters and nursing homes and children hospitals, and he continues to do that even after the marriage is announced And everyone is :O “but mister Prompto, you’re going to marry into royalty!” and Prompto just “And? King Regis and prince Noctis do this sort of things too. The queen used to do it as well. Not only does it make no sense that I’d want to stop doing this, it’d also be unfair; my in-law family and my dad do this all the time, why would I want to sit back and do nothing?”

And HONESTLY HE INSPIRES THE PEOPLE. AND HE’S SO JOYFUL AND HAPPY. He’s the happy side of the wedded couple, the prince that makes the people jump in joy,and Noctis is the one that makes them feel safe. Playful and serious, these two complement each other perfectly and OF COURSE THE KINGDOM LOVES THEM

Indeed they’re so perfect that even Niflheim stops any intentions of war because “how can we attack a kingdom with such a cute heir couple omg”. 

Anon, I don’t know how to thank you for this beautiful story. Thank you for the time you took to write it, for how pretty it is, and for choosing me among all blogs to share it with. I feel honored. And so happy. Thank you for sharing such a pretty story with me, thank you. I enjoyed it from head to toe and I think your story is amazing and it made me feel things, and I thinkthat that means you did a wonderful job

Thank you again, and again!!! Such a great story, thank you!!

[mysmesomefluff]

3. “I'm not jealous.“ pls! I love your writing! ♥

A/N: 💕 Thanks anon! :) Hope you like this one~ 

“You’re jealous,” you state in a challenging tone, lips curled up into a smirk as you stare directly at the man next to you whose face is currently flushing a colour nearly as red as his hair.

A scowl forms on his face as he turns away so his back is facing you.

“No, I’m not jealous.”

Liar.

The taunting voice echoes in your head as you suppress a chuckle, your lips barely able to keep a straight line while you continue to burn holes into the back of his head with your piercing stare. You know he can sense you staring; he always just knows. It’s like he has eyes behind him, and you can tell from the stiffening of his back muscles that he’s growing increasingly unnerved beneath your gaze.

“There’s nothing to be jealous over,” he mutters indignantly, shoving his hands into his pockets and angling himself further away from you, as if that will help to hide him from your line of sight. “Don’t be stupid.”

You scoff in response to that, rolling your eyes while you hold the sleeping toddler closer to you. “Oh come on, Saeran. You know Minho was just being… well, Minho. He says this kind of stuff all the time.”

“Wait, what?” He shifts so that he’s facing you again, confusion and disbelief filling his face. “So you’re saying that you’ve promised to marry him before?”

“It was all in good fun,” you point out, cracking a smile at how disoriented he looks now. If Saeran could see his reflection in a mirror now, he would understand why you find this all so amusing. And why he’s clearly jealous and the one who’s being stupid here.

“This kid seems awfully convinced that you’re his wife though.”

“Well,” you shrug. “he did put a ring on my finger way before you did.”

“He what?”

Oh, what you would give to have your camera with you right now. Saeran’s look of utter horror on his face has got to be the most hilarious expression in the world.

“He proposed to me way before you did,” you repeat, laughing when his eyes dart down to the peacefully sleeping angel in your arms. He looks positively murderous, even though it’s clear he’s trying to hide it.

“So much for not being jealous, stupid.”

He glares at you fiercely for the taunt, though the reddening ears of his indicates that you’re not far off at all.

“S-Shut up. This kid didn’t even get you a real ring,” he mutters sourly, grabbing your hand from Minho’s hand and intertwining your fingers with his. His palm is a little sweaty, but you don’t mind it one bit. You squeeze his hand back comfortingly, though you’re not sure why you even have to reassure him of anything at all.

“Saeran, you do realize that the only one I love is you, right? And that you’re the one I chose to marry for real? Not Minho?”

“Of course I do!” he retorts in a raised, embarrassed voice. At least he knows how ridiculous he’s being. Not that you mind all that much. It’s actually very cute.

“But you keep giving him all your attention and it’s just… frustrating. I don’t even get to spend that much time with you anymore.”

You let out a sigh at that. It’s true, Minho has been put in your care for two weeks since his parents are off for a short vacation in Italy. As such, you’ve been busy attending to him, playing with him and going along with his whims and fancies for the most part. Of course, it also meant having much less time alone with Saeran. You though your fiancee would be far more understanding like the mature adult he is, but… apparently, you’ve been put in charge of two kids for two weeks.

“It’s just for two weeks, Saeran,” you reply, rubbing little circles in the back of his hand with your thumb. “Bear with it? Please? I promise I’ll make it up to you after Minho’s parents come back.”

The small pout on his lips that you hadn’t realised was there lets up slightly, though he’s clearly still rather reluctant. It’s not as if he has much of a choice though, so he nods, heaving a sigh as he does so.

Honestly, this man…

Warmth floods your chest and you can’t help the smile that spills onto your lips as you lean in close to press a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. You feel him take in a sharp breath of surprise, and you breathe out a chuckle as you pull back with a smirk, all while he blinks at you with wide eyes.

He doesn’t let this slide though, and before you can make a sound of protest, his hand has somehow slid up to the back of your neck and he pulls you in firmly for a strong, deep kiss. One that he hasn’t gotten the chance to give you in a few days. His kisses are soft, his breath warm on your face, and you adore how your noses nudge against each other’s as your lips melt perfectly against his. A familiar heat pools in your stomach and gushes to your cheeks while your heart increases in pace and your head goes blank, giddy with joy.

You have to admit, you’ve missed this too. It’s just that Minho has kept you so busy that you haven’t dwelled on this as much as Saeran has.

The both of you are interrupted, however, with a sudden smack to Saeran’s cheek. He practically jumps away, startled, while you freeze in place, reeling from the shock.

“No touch noona!” The toddler in your arms roars, glaring at Saeran and shooing at him with his little hands.

He then makes a show of throwing his arms around you and planting a wet kiss to your cheeks.

“MINE!” he all but yells at the redhead.

All you can do is watch as the shock in Saeran’s eyes slowly morphs into burning, fiery embers, and in the next moment you come to your senses, immediately you’re steeling yourself, and preparing to grab the toddler and run away before something tragic happens.

[tigerlover16-uk]

You and all the other people that enjoy anything about dragon ball super disgust me. You fake fans are enabling the ruination of Dragon Ball and you should all hate yourselves for DARING to think that garbage is as good as DBZ. Pathetic shill. You and all the other worthless, spoilt, brain dead scum need to get off the internet and stop worshipping garbage.

(Insert gif of Frieza sipping his wine)

I’ve left this and the other angry ask insulting me for liking Goku sitting around in my ask box for a while now, because I honestly didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with this nonsense at the time you left it here, and after that I just didn’t think an obvious troll was worth giving the time of day. But you know, whatever, I’m up for it right now.

First off, way to be ableist with the brain dead scum comment, that and all the comments about how us fans who like Super should hate ourselves make you sound VERY reasonable and intellectually superior. Bravo, good chap.

Second… explain how I’m a shill who “Worships” Super? True, I’m more positive about it than some people on this site, but that’s because I don’t really care to complain about the flaws in things I enjoy when I could instead be having fun with them. If it’s something I hate, like GT or the DCEU movies before Wonder Woman, then oh boy I’ll be harsh if I have to talk about them, but I do prefer to avoid talking about them lately unless I’m directly asked.

I’m not a person that cares for discourse. The times I do get involved I often end up saying stupid things and don’t handle it well, so I prefer to maintain a “look on the bright side attitude” where I can involving the things I like. And that includes Super. I think there’s honestly more than enough negativity directed at it by the vocal minority of fans who dislike the series already, so I don’t think I need to bother chiming in complaints when there are others who could do that, and I can instead be having fun and gushing about the things it does right (And yes, I believe it does plenty more right than bad).

But that doesn’t mean I think it’s perfect. I’ve been honest about the fact that the show is flawed plenty of times and I’m not afraid to comment on them where I have to. The animation in the second half of the Resurrection F arc was HORRIBLE. Majin Buu, even if I loved the fight with Basil and the fit Buu thing, has been shafted way too many times and it’s getting really annoying. Gohan’s character arc is progressing really well this saga, but it’s been annoyingly stretched out and inconsistent before that. And the ending to the Future Trunks saga, while I don’t find it irredeemably awful like some, was still nonsense.

I acknowledge that the show has flaws. It’s just that for the most part, I actually think the show is really fun to watch and does a lot of good things, and many of it’s issues have been ironed out over time especially with the current saga, and I think it still has a ton of potential going forward. So I just prefer to wait and see what comes next and enjoy myself now.

So I don’t let the flaws ruin Super for me, any more than I let the flaws with Z or the original Dragon Ball take away my love for those shows. Heck, if I did I would have cut my rewatch of og Dragon Ball last year short the minute I got to the horrific homophobia that was General Blue, the misogynistic gay pedophile drawn to look like a Nazi (Still the worst thing the franchise has ever done, by the way).

I think Dragon Ball Super is a good show, that does a lot of good worldbuilding, tells some fun stories, gives some interesting development to several of it’s characters like Krillin and Gohan, is usually very funny, has tons of adorable and touching moments, and while it’s action’s not as good as Z’s, it does have some great memorable fights here and there.

It’s not as good as Z, but I never expected it to be. Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z were a masterpiece, the kind of on the job miracle that only happens once in a lifetime, you can never fully recreate everything that made it so magical. And you don’t need to as long as you make something else that’s enjoyable in it’s own right with the property. I’m just glad I finally get to see more of these wonderful characters and this universe I love so much. And for now I’m pretty satisfied with that.

So no, pal, I’m not an entitled shill. That would require I put the show on a pedestal and declare it God’s gift to Dragon Ball while beating down any criticisms I find with unintelligible whinging. And clearly I don’t. I don’t agree with all the criticisms the show gets, but while I’ve occasionally said something stupid but then immediately apologized (Something I don’t expect from you at this point if you bother to read this anon), I don’t have an issue with people personally not enjoying it. Heck, I’m a guy who thinks Batman is an uninteresting character and the Dark Knight Movies were boring and awful, while liking the Star Wars Prequels more than the original trilogy, which I find just okay. We all have different tastes and opinions, who am I to judge.

You know what would make me a spoilt, entitled scumbag? Telling the people I disagree with that they’re worthless, disgusting fake fans and they should hate themselves for having the AUDACITY to like a fictional show! And trying to chase those people off the internet with petty ramblings in their personal space just so you don’t have to hear opinions you don’t like (Man, I’d hate to see how you react to political debates).

Also, how is Super “Ruining” Dragon Ball? Here’s the thing pal… Dragon Ball had a complete story. The manga is the only definitive canon in this franchise, and it ended two decades ago. The actual, classic story of Dragon Ball is complete, any other works based on it, whether people choose to view them as canon or not, are supplementary at best. It’s not actually possible to truly “Ruin” the franchise.

If anything, Super has helped in keeping the franchise from falling into relative obscurity, considering how in the latter half of the last decade Dragon Ball in general outside of it’s fandom (And in some cases, IN it’s own fandom) had become a bit of a laughing stock among much of the anime fandom and the internet. It’s been down to Kai, the Xenoverse games and other spin offs, the two Toriyama penned movies and yeah, even Super that the franchise has started getting more recognition again and more support. They’ve brought in new fans, and brought back many lapsed and casual fans.

And yes, that’s come with it’s own share of problems, particularly on the fandom side of things. But TFS is FAR more responsible for creating the toxic atmosphere of much of the modern Dragon Ball fandom, the toxic underbelly of which had been growing larger for years before Super debuted, so I don’t think it’s fair to blame Super specifically for the fandoms current state when at worst it’s responsible for bringing back a flood of casuals who absentmindedly buy into fandom stereotypes a little too heavily. The current atmosphere of the fandom would have been largely as bad whatever the quality or kind of new show we got.

So no, I don’t think Super has “Ruined” the franchise any more than GT did years ago. Anyone who wants to argue that Super ruined Dragon Ball for them as a whole is either being melodramatic, taking it too seriously, or maybe even never cared about Dragon Ball beyond being a casual fan in the first place.

I mean, I still love Spider-man even despite the abomination that is One More Day, and I’m still watching Boruto despite hating the majority of Naruto Shippuden with a burning passion. And I didn’t let GT lessen my love for the Dragon Ball franchise in the slightest, if anything it just made me appreciate the stuff I love about it instead a lot more.

If anything is ruining the Dragon Ball franchise for people, it’s jerks like you who feel the need to attack and insult people for liking stuff about it that you don’t. You’re no better than the scummy anons who harass the Gochi fans on here, or the people who constantly lie about, demonize and demean Goku’s character to prop up and shill other characters like Vegeta and Piccolo, when it’s completely unnecessary and stupid to try and undermine other characters to prop up others who are already great on their own.

It’s okay if you don’t like the show. I’m sorry if you feel it’s somehow ruining Dragon ball for YOU specifically, and I encourage you to go back and watch the previous series to remember WHY you like Dragon Ball so much. But buddy… NOTHING gives you the right to act like a ravenous jerka## to the people who DO enjoy it. Screw off with that elitist, childish nonsense and grow the (Bleep) up, child!!

This goes to EVERYONE who’s feeling even the slightest bit resentful to the people who are having fun with Super, or any other base breaking series connected to a franchise a lot of people like (Did I mention I prefer the 3D era Sonic games to the genesis classics? Oh boy, do I not get along with the Sonic fandom). You not liking it doesn’t make you superior to other people, nor does it make you objectively right while everyone else is just a moronic fake fan. to heck with that line of thinking.

I could go on, but it’s late and I’m tired and you’re not worth any more effort than I’ve already spent here, anon. Don’t bother coming back into my inbox with this nonsense unless you want to do the mature, adult thing (Assuming you’re an adult, and not a kid) and apologize. Good night.

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Hi there, I just stumbled upon your blog and I scrolled through it for some time and read a lot of the messages and I've got a few questions because I don't understand. 1. What exactly don't you like about Harry's promo and stuff and how they're showing him off? I just don't understand. I haven't followed his solo promotion that close.. 2. Why are people so angry with Harry & say that he broke up the band? I mean, I know that H proposed the hiatus but why are they so angry with him? And I read a few times that it wasn't okay what he did to the boys and I just don't get it. I genuinely don't understand all of this 3. Why are so many people against Nick?

4. Seems to me that a lot of people also don't like Jeff Azoff? Why is that? I'm also really sorry, I don't want to get on your nerves. I just would like to get an explanation because I haven't been following everything since the hiatus & there's a lot going on .. Thanks for your time to read & maybe answer this. 😊

***

Hiding my response under a cut, cuz I know it’s going to be abominably long, because I’m abominably long winded at the best of times.

Hi Anon! Don’t worry about anything, I’m happy to answer questions and I’m sure other followers in here will be happy to give their side as well since everyone has their own reasons and viewpoints on the subjects that you have brought up.

I will answer best as I can for each one! I just want to start this with the caveat that this is just MY opinion. I do not demand that others agree, and I fully respect that others feel otherwise about Harry, I only ask that they respect that these are my feelings.

1. I’ll start this off with the point that I used to be a big Harry fan. I came into this fandom as a fan of Harry, though I’ve only been a fan for about a year and a half (I came in about two months before the hiatus began, aren’t I so smart) but I was interested in what he would end up doing because I sorta assumed he would be a solo artist at some point and it’s safe to say I was not in the least bit surprised by his solo album coming out (more on this later though). I spent that year while he was recording and what not getting to know more about him, what he said publicly, watching interviews, etc, to try to suss out his public personality. I choose not to delve into the personal, I know he’s a private person and I respect that, but I’m not blind or an idiot, tabloid stories are hard to avoid but what I found with Harry, at least back then when I was watching interviews and older things he did with 1D, was that the person the trash media was trying to sell me didn’t seem to the be the same guy I saw in interviews. He struck me as very genuine, down to earth, kind hearted, intelligent, talented and witty. Not to mention that we shared an interest in classic rock, so I was definitely interested in what he would produce musically as a solo artist.

So you can imagine my shock and surprise when he released that bizarro, cheesy little video/teaser/commercial/whatever the fuck that was. Because my initial, immediate gut reaction was that it screamed arrogance and pretentiousness. It assumed that everyone who saw it would immediately know it was Harry Styles and that it was for a song. Except it didn’t really tell us anything, other than the fact that he can show off his body while wet and stare doe-eyed into a camera while a date scrolls across the bottom with some tinkling piano music in the background. I saw someone describe it as a bad cologne commercial once and frankly, that is the best description. Point is, I was highly unimpressed, it seemed very much at odds with the public personality I knew Harry as and I’m afraid things just continued to go down hill from there in my estimation of him.

Since then, with every interview, every appearance he has done, this arrogant, pretentious, but also rather robotic and lifeless personality has continued to prevail. There have been moments when I’ve seen glimpses of the Harry I used to see publicly, but they are few and far between. What really gets me is that this seems to be an Image that he is trying to sell. This aloof, above it all, sex, drugs and rock and roll star that hearkens back to the 70′s, which frankly is an era best left behind us for a lot of reasons.

So the question remains, is this the real Harry? Or is this a fabrication made purely to sell the image and music? I know that he is fiercely protective of his privacy and therefore his private self and I fully respect that, but if he is the super nice, kind, sweet, gentleman that we often hear he is from people who meet him personally, why not just be himself for the most part? Because that is someone I can get behind, that is someone I can support even if I’m not so into his music. This current image is just so unlikeable, cold, haughty and frankly, a little gross.

Speaking of the music. Despite my altered opinion of Harry, I was still very much interested in hearing his music and chose to keep an open mind and reserve judgement until I heard it. Unfortunately, for me, SOTT was kinda wah-wah. It bored me and I found the lyrics very lacking and not very interesting or deep. I heard ESNY on SNL and didn’t mind it at first but grew bored of it after about 5 listens. I’ve only heard Two Ghosts twice, when he performed them and it too bored me. I will be honest and say that due to my general dislike of those three songs, I haven’t bothered with the rest of the album. I’m a first impressions kind of girl and I gave him three and decided that I was done. I’ve heard enough about some of the lyrics, ones that make me incredibly uncomfortable because of their nature (and before anyone says it, I have ZERO problems with him writing about women or sexuality in his songs, I know he’s an adult and welcome a mature, adult sound from him, but I feel that not only did he cross the line into vulgar with some of his lyrics, he also pissed on the line and set fire to it).

2. Now, I do not have nearly as strong an opinion on this as many others and I believe that’s down to the fact that when I came into this fandom, I already knew the hiatus was coming and fully expected solo work from all of them. It does seem now that Harry might have been a tad disingenuous in his methodology, claiming to need a break but also hitting the ground running with a behind the scenes movie already set up and recording (under the presumption that people would care that bloody much about him recording the album in the first place, which is, once again, kind of on the arrogant side). But because I haven’t been a fan as long, my opinions, knowledge and feelings on the subject are frankly limited, so I will allow others to more concisely and clearly answer this question for you.

3. With Nick, for me it’s a personal feeling, which I know really only has merit for me at the end of the day. But he seems a bit slimy, as though he hooks on to his more famous friends to get more fame for himself. He’s often lacked tact (as someone mentioned, he was glibly chatting away about meeting up with Harry and what they talked about less than a week after Harry lost his step-father) and seems to bring up Harry and his other famous friends more often than he changes his underwear. He’s a name dropper and in my opinion, a user. Again, others can give their reasons for liking or disliking Nick to maybe give you some more concrete evidence than just my gut feelings.

4. Jeff Azoff, oh Jeff Azoff. I’m not a Larrie, and I wasn’t around when there seemed to be a strange consensus in the fandom that the Azoffs would rescue the entire band (from what, I’m not sure), but like Nick, part of my dislike is gut feeling, he seems like a coat-tailer, who is using Harry to build up his own business (which has failed once already, but rescued by daddy before any real embarrassment) and to have the bragging rights of landing a big whale.

Speaking of daddy, here is where I have some more concrete dislike with the Azoffs, namely Irving. The man is known as the Poison Dwarf for a reason to start with. But back in 2010, when all kinds of mergers and buy outs were going on and he suddenly found himself on the board at Ticketmaster, he received a whopping $2 million dollar bonus (plus another million later), his entire full years salary, and other cushy financial benefits while thousands were laid off from their jobs. I’m sorry, but that is shit business practice and as someone who has been laid off multiple times and knows how horrible that can be, the uncertainty and fear of what will happen next in this job market, I was thoroughly incensed to read that.

Jeff did work for Irving during that time at Front Line, though he has since parted ways to go off to start his new business, with only one client.

One client that he seems to cling on to like a turd that won’t let go.

Now I know a lot of people believe they are friends and yadda yadda, but from my perspective, it seems as though this friendship is built entirely on business and in my opinion, I would not be in the least bit surprised if Jeff dropped Harry like a hot potato should he no longer deliver. But again, this is my personal opinion and I will leave it open to others to also add their own reasons and perhaps some more facts than I am able to provide.

Anyway, this is as predicted, very long winded, but I hope I gave you some insight into where my head and opinions are. I know a lot of Harries believe firmly that if I don’t like Harry or his music, I should just bog off and stop paying attention to him. And maybe they are right, however, I work a boring job and frankly I enjoy conversing with people on the subject because as I said to a friend the other day, I invested in Harry. Not just financially, but emotionally, being a fan, with my personal interest and with my support and no one, not even me, likes to feel duped. If it turns out I’m completely wrong about some things, I will fully admit that, but it’s hard to be wrong about how something makes you feel. His promo gives me arrogant, pretentious vibes, that’s my subjective viewpoint. Others may disagree and that is absolutely their right.

Feel free to hang out though, ask questions or tell us what you think!