funny story, when I wrote this, I hadn’t finished all of the available fence books yet. Therefore, I didn’t know there was a girls team. Heh.
yeah I thought y’all were tryna get some fence boys genderswap yuri which NO HATE ME TOO but I was tired so I wrote this
KEEPING UP WITH THE KATAYAMAS
2150 words
in which Seiji introduces Nick to his little sister Suzume
a song: Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens (ignore the obvious sad air about the song, I just think it’s how Seiji sees Suzume as like a “I should have done better you should be happier” yk idk do you understand)
I didn’t do a cover art for this one I just doodled some Seiji and suzu over the years so here ya go
Ignore the shitty shadows on the bottom left whenever I have characters with divorced/fighting parent I always have to draw them in that one picture of the wolf crying while his parents fight YOU KNOW THE ONE ITS TUMBLR YOU DO I KNOW IT it’s just a thing one must do
Rating: Gen
Relationship: Erica Sinclair & Lucas Sinclair
Notes: Post-Season 4, Erica Sinclair centric
“Erica,” says her mom, says her dad, says Lucas, and Erica doesn’t know how to say that it hasn’t occurred to her for a second to do things any other way.
READ ON AO3 HERE
this is a fill for my stranger things fic bingo square 'erica sinclair' - (if you wanna participate in the bingo, check out my pinned post!!)
“Erica!” says her music teacher and Erica doesn’t know why she sounds so surprised.
It’s not like she said anything that wasn’t true. She never does.
“Erica!” says Auntie Patrice and pulls her back by her collar.
Erica’s always thought that honesty is the good thing, the right thing, the thing other people would appreciate.
“Erica!” says Tanya on the playground.
She’s eleven and then she’s twelve and somewhere along the way it’s all changed. Her name become an exclamation she doesn’t get.
“Erica,” says her mom, says her dad, says Lucas, and Erica doesn’t know how to say that it hasn’t occurred to her for a second to do things any other way.
•
Here’s the thing: she isn’t trying to be rude.
Sure, she doesn’t care super care if she is, but it’s pretty much never her goal. Besides, shouldn’t it all be based on truth? Truth, justice, the American way. Erica can’t be the only one who pays attention to this stuff.
Sometimes it bugs her friends and they fight. They always make up in the end, but the days they don’t talk still suck.
She’s good in school, so her teachers don’t complain too much but when they have the time they tell her to be careful about running her mouth. Those days suck, too.
Her mom tells her, though – at night when she tucks Erica into bed even though she’s getting way too old for that – that she shouldn’t be anyone but who she is. That she shouldn’t let the world make her into someone else. (Erica doesn’t totally get it. How would that even work? There’s nothing in the world that she’d allow to change her, she’s sure. She doesn’t know where she’d begin.)
So, despite the chidings her mother doles out, Erica knows that she wants her daughter to be herself.
It’s a good thing, too, because Erica really likes being Erica.
•
The swelling of Lucas’ face still hasn’t gone down. Mom and dad fret over it, but the whole of Hawkins has been plunged into chaos and it’s easy to say that he and Erica and Max were in an accident when the quake hit. It’s not even that much of a lie.
Erica does most of the deflecting because her brother can’t be trusted these days. Not that she can blame him – although she still tries to give him grief. Can’t give up on everything normal.
But Max looks awful in that hospital bed, still and horrible. She’s meant to be her brother’s girlfriend who’s much too cool for him, on her skateboard, moving and teasing and fitting in at their house where she likes to watch TV. At least she used to before she stopped coming around. (Lucas never talked about that, at least not to her which makes sense. He still got those pathetic mooning eyes when she came up, though, so Erica knows it wasn’t his choice to break up. And he had hope the whole time. She could tell. He still has hope now and there’s something warm about it that Erica doesn’t know how to name.)
Yeah, Erica really hates that hospital room. It smells terrible, looks worse and there’s always some machine beeping in the background.
But there’s nowhere else to be. Lucas spends every possible moment in that room. The others come to visit when they can. They can only spare so many party members. Sometimes Max’s mother’s there but more often than not it’s just them, Max and Erica and Lucas.
A sick inverse of Saturday mornings spent on the couch where Lucas pretended not to be interested in her cartoons. Where Max would pretend like she didn’t enjoy her mother’s valiant efforts to feed her. Being a teenager involves a lot of pretending, Erica’s learned. It seems beyond exhausting.
Now it’s them playing checkers over Max’s hospital bed, commentating the whole way, before Lucas gets out Tolkien. They finished up The Talisman two days ago.
Today he hesitates. Doesn’t open his stupid Hobbit book and launches into reading.
There’s a heavy silence and when he speaks his voice is all torn up.
“I didn’t save her.” His fingers scratch at the cover, but his eyes are glued to Max’s still, waxy face. “We promised her we wouldn’t miss our shot but we didn’t—” He makes a choking sound like a sob.
There’s a twist in Erica’s chest, sour or like a burn.
“When she wakes up… I don’t know how she could forgive me.”
It’s the rawest Erica thinks she’s ever seen him. It’s unsettling and makes the biting feeling behind her ribs worse. She doesn’t want this to happen. Lucas is the big brother and big brothers aren’t supposed to fall apart.
They can be poked and prodded and provoked and they’ll yell and take their He-Man dolls back and they’ll lie for their sisters about the stain on the good carpet once threatened.
This isn’t right.
The helplessness in his eyes is contagious. It crawls up her arms, immobilizing her inch by inch. If Lucas doesn’t know what to do in this room, how is she supposed to know what to do in this room?
Her brother is broken in this moment, much like Hawkins. They have the same scars. Like he was torn apart with it.
So, she tells him the only thing she ever tells anyone: the truth.
“Well, that’s stupid.”
His head shoots up. He frowns but he doesn’t say anything. He’s listening to her, Erica realizes, like she has an answer he wants to hear.
Everything gets so weird when the world ends.
“That’s what Max would say, and you know it. Stop being stupid.” She’s standing on the opposite side of the bed from where he’s sitting. They bring their own water bottles because the hospital is overflowing still and can’t spare the glasses. Erica puts her bottle (pink to Lucas’ green, mom bought them together) back into their backpack. “You did everything you could. I don’t know how you guys survived ‘til high school. We all knew the risk. Max was never gonna let other people take the fall. It was a dangerous plan, but who else was gonna do anything?”
It's bitter in the back of her throat. She’d looked at the group of them, in that van, before they got to Creel House, and she’d felt cold inside. Everyone they had, everyone willing to fight, had looked so young. Unqualified. Inexperienced.
Child endangerment, she’d told Dustin and Robin an eternity ago. That’s all this town really is now. The evidence lies with them right here in this room.
There’s still something in her that’s constricted. Those words were all she had. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if Lucas pushes back, if it’s not enough.
Slowly, she tears her eyes away from the lonely backpack by the side of Max’s bed.
It is so difficult to choose one hateful text because all of them give me angst feelings, but I will ask for "fuck your apologies, you can keep them". You know what pairing I want, bean.
prompt: “fuck your apologies, you can keep them.”group: got7genre: heavy angstwarning: lots of swearingpairing: choi youngjae & im jaebum ; 2jae // 2young are brothers!words: 3881
note: i agree, kelly - the angsty ones were just so good that’s why I decided to use that list! ;-; anyhow, I hope you enjoy! i said I was hoping to finish before you were off to sleep tonight, but oops ;;
also, i cross posted this on ao3. here is the link to anyone interested in reading it there instead, maybe! other than that, careful with your heart and enjoy! ;)
still accepting requests!! please check this link for guidelines and the prompt list to choose from!!
It was the biggest mistake of his life.
“Are you coming or what?”
“He’s there.”
“That’s the point of the party, dumbass. We’re celebrating the release of his song.”
“It’s not his song,” Jaebum sighs as a hand runs down his messy waves of hair. “Hell, he was mostly harmony for the rest of it.”
Jinyoung doesn’t appreciate his best friend’s attitude for a few weeks now. On a different day, he would have been greatly surprised with Jaebum’s reaction towards the man in question’s celebration of being able to collaborate with a few of his favorite artists. They were all part of a tight knit group of friends, so everyone was obviously excited for this opportunity given to Youngjae—Jaebum was not an exception, seeing as he’s the boyfriend.
But Jinyoung had been seeing… differences between his best friend and his own brother’s treatment towards one another. He couldn’t—for the life of him—pin point what it was. All he knows is that it’s not good.
“Let’s not ruin the experience for my brother,” Jinyoung chides instead, tossing Jaebum’s car keys towards him. Landing on his chest, Jaebum grabs it with a reluctant sigh. He feels the tension of meeting Youngjae in a sea of people in his stomach, but the possibility of Jinyoung finding out what he had done to his brother frightened him.
He knew he was an ass for keeping it a secret. But at the same time, confusion strickens his core as to why Youngjae hasn’t revealed his act of betrayal to any of them either.
Maybe he was too focused on the song, too preoccupied with meeting new people, too in love with this new life ahead of him.
Jaebum grits his teeth at his thoughts, but Jinyoung snaps him back to reality.
“The car isn’t going to drive itself, Jaebum-ah,” Jinyoung notes, already making his way out of the bedroom.
Standing up, Jaebum dusts off his jeans and follows suit. He imagines how happy Youngjae is being the center of attention at the party—something he has forgotten to give him the weeks prior to the younger’s work travel to New York, the very reason he got to work on this song in the first place.
They walk to his car, and Jaebum cannot erase the image of Youngjae enjoying the time of his life with Sanjoy, or Elliot what-’s–his–face; he cannot set aside Youngjae’s bright and carefree laughter echoing in the chambers of his mind. Youngjae excited, thrilled, and happy—all the things that made him fall in love with the man, everything given so freely to someone else instead.
He closes the door louder than usual, squirming at his own actions. Jaebum starts up the car as he looks to the passenger seat and wait for Jinyoung to get in. His eyes wander around the area until he finds something pink, lacy, and frilly peeping under the seat.
“Shit,” he mumbles nervously, reaching as fast as he can. Shoving it further down under, Jinyoung finally opens the door as he’s taken aback by the sight of Jaebum’s face dipped under the car seat.
“What are you—”
“Nothing, nothing,” Jaebum pants, retreating to his place before placing both hands on the steering wheel with an iron grip. Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, lowering himself onto the seat as the door closes. Before any of them can comment anything else, Jaebum begins driving.
The dread doesn’t leave his chest, and he uses all the strength in his upper arms and calves to focus on nothing but the road. How dumb can he be to leave that stupid thing lying around his car? For almost three days?
Jinyoung glances at the driver, feelings of suspicion still evident in his eyes. He’d casually chuck his feet under the seat and feel the object having been shoved down there by Jaebum, but he didn’t want to anger him while driving. Jinyoung will have to wait.
He wishes he can turn back time.
Arriving at the venue Youngjae had rented for the party, Jaebum parks at a close enough area and promptly turns the engine off. He releases his seatbelt, yanks the keys out of the ignition and clicks open the car door.
“I have a question,” Jinyoung says out loud—enough for Jaebum to stop midway. The older nods once, signaling for Jinyoung to continue.
The younger hesitates, setting aside the real question in his head and asks something else: “Are you sure the two of you are okay?”
The immense dread only crushes his organs even deeper, and Jaebum physically winces at the pain. He could confess right now, show his remorse and beg for Jinyoung to help him reconcile with Youngjae—but he couldn’t do that to him. He couldn’t ruin this very moment his boyfriend had been dreaming all these months.
“It’s just a little misunderstanding,” Jaebum tastes the venom of his lies. “I’m sure he’s forgotten about it now,” he adds, mentally punching himself in the gut for assuming such a selfish thing about his boyfriend to his brother.
While Jinyoung wanted to pry even more, he shared the same sentiments of not wanting this night to be stolen away from Youngjae’s spotlight. He accepts the vague answer for now, and decides to just mention it in passing to his own brother at the party. He might tell him the truth this time.
The party is not very extravagant, just the way Youngjae likes it—a few people from the recording company he is in, some friends from others, and of course the other four people in their group are already mingling about the cozy yet spacious room. Strobe lights dance around the walls and the speakers surrounding the venue blast the very song being celebrated as well.
“Damn, my brother has taste,” Jinyoung ponders to himself, chuckling as he takes in the vibe of the party. Jaebum’s head drops low, already regretting the invitation to come with. Hell, Youngjae didn’t even give him one at all.
“I actually helped him set up the place,” Bambam corrects the older as he approaches, Yugyeom and Jackson towing alongside him. They all hug, with Jaebum the most antsy of them all. He hopes they didn’t notice, as the bass of the music thumps hard beneath their feet.
They all chat mindless topics—but frankly, Jaebum wasn’t as interested. He knew they all saw each other just a few days ago at the usual; he was invited there but he politely declined because he had better—or should he say regretful —things to do that day.
Clenching a fist, he asks to be excused. They all didn’t seem to mind, except for Jinyoung.
“Can I come with? Are you looking for Youngjae?” Jinyoung says.
“No,” the nth lie that has ever came out of his mouth. “Mark—where’s Mark hyung?”
“By the concessions table, I think,” Jackson chimes in, pointing to the direction of a long table covered with different delicacies. Jaebum mutters a thanks, gives Jinyoung a look for approval to leave. Once the younger gives in with a sigh, Jaebum escapes the perimeter of his friends.
He sees a lot of familiar faces, some even greet him passing by. Jaebum has never been a social butterfly, but working in the same field as his boyfriend gave him a lot of connections to the same people—all the more reason to hate himself for what he did, Jaebum thinks as he grimaces.
Their circles are just too connected with one another, one slip up and that whole bond would just crumble to dust.
Jaebum finds Mark, back facing him as the older seems to be enjoying whatever dessert he found on that particular section of the table. Mark turns around, eyes widening at the sight of Jaebum before returning to his usual calm expression.
“Funny seeing you here,” Mark starts, popping the whole cake pop inside his mouth. Jaebum tilts his head slightly, eyes peering over his friend as he treads lightly into the conversation, “What do you mean? If anything, I should be on the VIP list of this party.”
Okay, so much for keeping it casual.
Mark smirks, and it makes Jaebum even more wary of what he actually knows. He offers Jaebum a cake pop but as he refuses, Mark puts another one in.
“Let’s pretend I didn’t hear your arrogance,” he reprimands with a playful tone, “But I’m serious. Youngjae doesn’t want you here, Jaebum-ah.”
“What do you know?” Jaebum asks, straightforward.
“Enough to know how risky it is for you to be here,” Mark answers with a shrug. “He didn’t say anything specific, but he was pretty fucking devastated when he crashed at my place the other day, Jaebum. I don’t know what you two fought over since he literally just got back from New York not even for a week yet, but I haven’t seen Youngjae that wasted off his ass since he couldn’t find the courage to ask you out three years ago.”
The information rendered Jaebum speechless, his voice scratching away at his throat. As much as he wanted to deny any and all assumptions from Mark, he couldn’t—he just couldn’t lie anymore. The more he covers this up, the more his chest is going to explode from the guilt gnawing away at his heavy heart.
“J-Jinyoung forced me to go,” says Jaebum, knowing of nothing else to respond.
“Because Jinyoung doesn’t know what shitty thing it is you did to his precious little brother,” Mark counters, the friendly tone in his voice officially replaced with a cold, harsh one. “We’re all friends, so it’s really hard to be mad at you—I shouldn’t even be meddling in your relationship, but—” Mark stops himself as he crosses his arms and stares at the younger with pointed eyes.
“I’m telling you, and it’s for both of your own good—even all of us. As much as you are Youngjae’s boyfriend, what you did to him negates every right you have to be here right now. So you can either wait outside until the party is over and then talk to him or go home and find the time to confront him.”
Mark’s eyes shift to the left as panic fills them in as well. “Y-Youngjae-yah—”
“It’s okay, Mark hyung,” Youngjae says dismissively. Stiffening in his place, Jaebum hitches a breath as he hears that soft and familiar music to his ears. He decides against turning to see him face to face, but he didn’t need to as Youngjae steps right beside him, with his arm excruciatingly close to his.
“He can be here uninvited if he wants to,” Youngjae continues, and Jaebum feels his glare scorching his face. “It seems to be something he is okay with himself, anyway.”
His eye twitches, feeling the burn of that statement. Jaebum closes his eyes, afraid of what he might say or do in front of the two of them. Remembering Mark’s words, he backs away, choosing to ignore the encounter entirely.
“Yeah, go and walk away, hyung. Walk away and pretend we ever meant something,” he hears Youngjae’s striking words reap his back, ripping into his spine and poisoning his veins. Jaebum’s face grows hotter, as he whips around with hands balled into fists and nose steaming with frustration.
“The fuck you on about, Youngjae? Who’s the person stubborn enough not to talk about it and refuse to even understand the other side of the story? You’re the one who’s walking away,” Jaebum seethes, the scratchiness of his voice laced through angry words. Fortunately so, the music blared louder than his anger as Mark and the others were quick to hold him off.
“What’s going on?” Jinyoung demands, coming in between the two lovers. Mark has Jaebum’s arms trapped in his, but the latter swats him away convincing him he wasn’t a hazard to any of them right now.
“Nothing, hyung. Jaebum hyung was just about to leave,” Youngjae announces, eyes blurry with hot tears threatening to spill. Mark shoots Jaebum an expectant look, almost forcing him out the door already. The other three stand still, unaware of the tension brewing between their friends.
“What? Why are you kicking him out? Youngjae-yah, what the hell is happening?” Jinyoung continues, brows scrunched up in worry for his brother. Shaking his head vigorously, Youngjae zips his lips as he grabs Jinyoung by the arm and signals for everyone to follow him somewhere else. Other guests have noticed the encounter, most of them leaning towards Youngjae asking him if he’s alright.
Jaebum is left with Mark, but before Mark can tell him off, the younger has already stormed off without another glance.
Jaebum stays inside his car, punching the curve of his steering wheel repeatedly—careful not to target the center as the horn would probably irritate him even more. He didn’t know what else he could do; he couldn’t just leave right now, that’d be giving into what Youngjae accused him of. At the same time, his shame and guilt are on its way to devouring his sanity, and all he could think of to repair himself is to call Youngjae and ask to talk with him.
The party had been going on for a few hours at most, and Jaebum sees people coming out of the door already. He fell asleep for a while, but the moment his consciousness awakens he immediately grabs for his phone. Jinyoung had left him a few missed calls, but that wasn’t his main concern.
He knows how selfish he is becoming yet again , but if he didn’t plead for Youngjae’s time now, who knows when they can ever return to normal anymore.
Jaebum sends a message first, a simple hey, can we talk when you’re done? as he waits for a reply. Knowing he’s still probably talking to a few people, Jaebum shoots Yugyeom a text asking for help. The younger replies with a i’ll see what i can do and minutes after he concludes sorry, hyung. he really doesn’t want to talk to you right now .
Grunting, Jaebum hits the middle of the wheel as the startling noise rings in his ears. It is enough for him to get out the car, enough for him to take a deep breath from the cramped space he has been in for hours , and it is enough for him to go right back in the place and confront Youngjae without hiding in ignored texts and denied phone calls.
Just as he is near the front door, Jinyoung exits out and sees him. His eyes form into slits as his figure walks straight into Jaebum’s path, arms grabbing hold of his shoulders just to push him with much force to send him stumbling away.
“You fucking bastard,” Jinyoung shouts, not letting Jaebum go out of his sight. The older keeps his hand guarding his chest, careful not to make Jinyoung any madder than he already appears to be.
“Jinyoung, please—I know, I’m sorry—let me talk to him, please I’m—” Jaebum swerves just before Jinyoung lands a punch to his chest, and Jaebum sees Youngjae rushing out of the door, calling out to his brother.
“You don’t get to talk to him, you fucking asshole. You don’t even get to see him,” says Jinyoung, tone flaming in rage. Youngjae runs to his side, hugging his brother’s chest as he pleads him to stop. Jinyoung’s eyes soften to Youngjae’s whimpers, but he shakes his head as he tries to squeeze out of his grasp.
“He doesn’t deserve you, Youngjae. I can’t believe how much I trusted him to take care of you,” Jinyoung spats, looking Jaebum directly in the eyes.
“Jinyoung, I didn’t—please just fucking listen to me, I swear I’m sorry,” Jaebum chokes out, his tone wavering and his body wanting to disintegrate every second he sees Youngjae’s tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Youngjae. I was an asshole, I was weak, I was devastated you were gone, I was—”
“For two damn weeks, hyung! I was only gone for fourteen days and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!” Youngjae snaps, dragging Jinyoung away with him. “I wouldn’t have known if Mark didn’t message me saying there’s an unfamiliar car parked at your place one night. I wouldn’t have known if I didn’t call your phone early in the morning, hoping to hear just your voice but ended up talking to a girl.”
Jaebum takes a step forward, eager to explain his weakness to Youngjae—to do anything anything to turn it all around.
“Don’t even try, hyung,” Youngjae insists harshly, red brimmed eyes constantly wetting his cheeks.
Jaebum feels a shot to his chest as he breaks down with his own salty tears and moves faster to catch up to the love of his life. Jinyoung notices him advancing, so he quickly helps Youngjae get farther away and into another car.
Mark suddenly comes into the scene as he opens up his car and lets the two of them in. Jaebum is forced to stop, and watch the wheels scrape against the pavement as it takes Youngjae away from him.
He blames himself for the mess he made.
The night progresses, and so does Jaebum’s desperation. All of his clothes messily scattered on his bedroom floor, pillows and sheets buried underneath them. He didn’t want to drink nor result to any violence, so all he could do once he got home was take control of the things Youngjae’s presence heavily lingered on: his clothes.
Some of his sweaters were missing, and Jaebum vaguely remembers Youngjae borrowing them to bring with him on his trip to New York—one of which the younger already harbored months before even buying the ticket. Jaebum sits on the edge of his bed, fingers raking down hard across his scalp as his nails dig deep. He remembers Youngjae overly complimenting that black oversized sweater, and one day he just didn’t find it in his closet anymore. When Jaebum had picked Youngjae up from his apartment thirty minutes too early, he catches the younger red handed with his sweater dressing his boyfriend’s body.
Jaebum doesn’t notice the piece of fabric he is holding onto, and as his eyes scan the material, memories of Youngjae flash through his head once again. He holds it onto his lap, the vibrant red color straining his eyes but regardless, he reminisces the time Youngjae video called him at work. Jaebum was on his lunch break, and Youngjae had time to go shopping. The younger showed him a piece of track suit in blue, and Jaebum immediately blushed at the matching aesthetic Youngjae was hinting at. His boyfriend only grinned adorably—the way he always did whenever Jaebum strips himself vulnerable towards him.
He finally sets aside the article of clothing, wipes away the sweat on his forehead and exits out his room. He brings a lighter with him as he goes outside, the freezing air hitting his face with a blast. Jaebum continues to his car, opening the passenger door and grabs something he now finds indespicable underneath.
Taking one last look at the unwanted lingerie tainting his car, his reputation, his relationship , Jaebum spits out the flashbacks from the week before: starting from arguing with Youngjae about one misunderstood flight time which led to them not talking during the whole two-week he was gone which resulted to Jaebum getting himself drunk in a bar he’s never been to, meeting a girl he didn’t even get the name of—and everything became hazy after that.
The bits and pieces that came back to him when he found himself driving back to his apartment with a raging headache were incomprehensible, but as soon as he saw the pink bra left by this unknown girl, things started to make sense—Jaebum wish it didn’t; he begged for his mind to stop piecing things together and making him realize he fell to his weakness, to his loneliness, to his anger.
He lights it on fire as he stands next to the garbage bin. Watching it shrivel up to burnt fabric and yet knowing the consequences it held would stay with him for the long run, Jaebum cries out loud.
He dumps whatever was left, and starts making his way back to his apartment: numb and hollow. He sees a figure walking towards him, and Jaebum had to blink twice to confirm who he was seeing.
“Y-Youngjae,” he breathes out. A box in his hand, and a grimace on his face—Jaebum didn’t want to know what the box contained.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jaebum suggests desperately, holding onto the other end of the box as Youngjae tugs on it tighter. The younger places it just a few inches away from the door, and Jaebum can clearly see his beloved black sweater sitting on top of other things he knows hold memories of them together—memories Youngjae wants to give back.
“It didn’t have to end this way either, hyung,” Youngjae simply states, eyes hooded and avoidant. With shaky, cold hands, Jaebum clings onto his boyfriend’s arm. He whimpers softly, right into Youngjae’s back and the younger attempts prying him off.
“Youngjae, p-please. I’m sorry, please fo-forgive me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you, please—I’ll do anything, I’m sorry please—”
“Hyung, stop embarrassing yourself.”
“I don’t fucking care, Youngjae, please —I’ll do anything for you to forgive me. I was an ass, I didn’t know what I was doing—I was drunk but I caved, I’m sorry—”
“Hyung,” Youngjae deadpans, using everything in his might to push Jaebum off of him. He sees the older’s tired eyes, dry lips, and weakened stance. Jaebum never wanted Youngjae to see him like this , but the chance of the younger leaving him for good made Jaebum lose all sense of individuality.
“Youngjae, I swear to god I’ll do anything, let me—let me prove myself just please,” Jaebum whimpers, hands searching to intertwine with Youngjae’s, just like before. His fingers move around the air, and never find their place of warmth.
“I’m sorry,” he keeps repeating as Youngjae keeps backing away. “Youngjae, I’m sorry, fuck, I’m fucking sorry, please— ”
“Hyung, just go to sleep,” it didn’t sound like Youngjae anymore, but maybe because Jaebum tried blocking out all the noises telling him it’s over, and all he wanted to hear was the opportunity to prove himself worthy to Youngjae again.
“I’m—Youngjae, I’m sorry,” Jaebum croaks out once again, but it takes him a few seconds to realize Youngjae has left him. Out in the cold, with their relationship shoved into a box.
Jaebum kicks it hard, sending its contents scattered around his doorstep—much like the scenery in his room.
He didn’t want to believe he has lost Youngjae; he didn’t want to accept the fact that his ultimate stupidity is the cause of the most important person of his life to disappear.
A buzz interrupts his train of thought, and he chucks his phone out of his pocket and sees the sender, only to grow miserable once more from its message.
YoungjaeFuck your apologies, Jaebum. You can keep them.
I had cross country this morning so sorry it’s a bit later in the day I was embarrassing myself for fun (seriously who invented cross country I’m only doing it cuz one of me irls said she’d do MUN with me if I did. Not a fair trade)
alr today:
SAND, SUN, AND SCALES
2934 words
In which the kings row boys go to the beach (plus Jesse)
A song: don’t wait by dashboard confessional (not a summery song but it’s from the album dusk and summer also it gives sunset on a beach to me so I don’t care GO LISTEN TO DASHBOARD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)
I rlly like this one it’s just silly idk have some happy because the next few… I’m sorry
here’s some art I did of the boys’ beach fits IGNORE THAT I FORGOT TO ADD PINAPPLES TO EUGENE’S SHORTS also bobby, Dante, Harvard, and aiden aren’t here cuz I didn’t finish them so you’ll get those later prob after the event is over
also I drew Nichoji what can I say I’m predictable I love my babies
Alr babies enjoy the fun while it lasts cuz tomorrow, woof.
@rake-rattrap get excited tomorrow’s for you!!!
sorry I’m posting so late I had brunch (my aunt forgot I’m lactose intolerant and I’m currently curled on the floor in agony send help or an assassin either one works)
Anyway todays fix is a short one because THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IVE EVER WROTE A COMPLETELY HAIDEN FIC (woooo)
so yeah it’s an aged up au where Aiden comes back as a fencing coach after sally retires
WHAT NOTE?
1165 words
A song: Mine by Taylor Swift
the vibe I was going for was like middle school graphic novel and I DID do an art I just hate it with every fiber of my being. The colors are just ew and I just EUGH. but it looks like a scholastic book fair graphic novel cover so I guess I succeeded.
In which Seiji asks about the bruises all over Nick. And things get bad.
A song: seven by Taylor swift (Unintentionally the same number as the day GO FIGURE)
TW: blood, bruises, hospitals, child abuse, mentions of overdose, homophobia?, seiji’s mom being a dick, nick’s mom’s boyfriend being a dick, and probably more
I did have to post it yesterday for the sake of time please forgive
BUT THIS IS MY FAVORITE OUT OF ALL OF THEM I WORKED SO HARD
anyway
OFF THE STRIP
4077 words
in which the KR boys start a video podcast, and it goes downhill quickly
a song: because I liked a boy by Sabrina carpenter
WARNING:
this started off silly. It’s not silly anymore. Mentions of suicide, doxxing, hate comments, homophobia, para social relationships, guns, and probably more that I’m forgetting, but those are the biggies. Take care of yourself.
okay so I did post this in chapters to make everything feel more sudden so some chapters literally have like 10 words in them but whatever.
okay an art: I didn’t do a cover cuz I didn’t want to lols but I did use a blank YouTube template to draw what their channel might have looked like so…
I think Eugene and Nick really wanted it to be clickbaity as a joke but no one would let them so they settled for making the thumbnail and banner super stereotypical YouTube channel style. I think Aiden names the episodes. You’ll find out abt who edits and films in the actual fic.
oh, @rake-rattrap , this one is for you. I wrote three of my twelve with you in mind and this is #one. Looking back, all of them have Nick suffering in some way, which says a lot abt us, doesn’t it.
Art for my zombie apocalypse au I SWEAR IM WRITING IT I PROMISE I KNOW HOW IT ENDS I WAS JUST BORED AND WANTED TO DRAW BLOODY FENCE BOYS
in this au the apocalypse happened during the school day and none of the schools had enough room to protect all of the students, so some had to run on their own, which ended up being a good thing, because the zombies (called the plague) ended up getting to the bunkers of the schools and killing everyone there, so there were like NO survivors.
survivors (called breathers) split off into gangs by school so Eugene and Nick are from the Rowers and Seiji and Jesse are from the ‘Tons but they got kicked out for reasons
Because jackets kinda became obsolete after the fires made everything a perpetual summer the gangs ripped out the crests and sewed it onto their shirts to identify themselves (most people gave up on individuality and style and stuff)
also in this au Jesse did archery, eugene played baseball, and Seiji and Nick were the only fencers. Nick also did skeet shooting.
the first chapter is on ao3 and I’m almost done with ch2 and there will prob be 5 chapters and I already know there will be NO happy ending bro like :(
