starflared-arrow · 2 years ago
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this guy
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adhdduckie · 2 years ago
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jjk headcanons ( as people in a class )
my masterlist here
feat- Yuuji, geto, gojo, megumi, nobara, choso and panda
pt 2 here
Yuuji : I feel like he's the kind of guy to do absolutely nothing in classes, like does the bare minimum studying and somehow end up like getting okay grades but like everyone thinks he cheats or something, but like no he doesn't he just has a little brain somewhere in that head of his. like in all his fight scenes he has a really good fighting tactic and is quite observant but like acts like an idiot. Like that friend everyone has that seems dumb but isn't as dumb as they seem. I think Yuujis handwriting would be like one of two things; like either its handwriting that only people who are able to read it are his friends and the teacher, or like no one can read it and he gets called up to explain what word he wrote. I SWEAR HE HAS ADHD
Gojo:
omg that one guy in everyones class that is so obsessed with himself but if you get pass that they're kind of adequate? like they have friends that actually care about them but like their friends are so done with their bullshit like if gojo says something so narcissistic shoko or someone would like slap the back of their head and apologise for him? Like we know he's pretty, he knows he's pretty, goddamn everyone knows. Grades- so focused on himself he's doing the bare minimum . His handwriting is fucking chicken scratch. Gojo needs help-
Geto
that one guy that seems so friggin sweet and nice but like they've got these fucked up views that you usually don't uncover till much later and then you're just super concerned but you don't know what to say? kind of like the weird kid but like actually crazy views ( ex. "monkeys" i think thats what he called non-shamans) but like a bunch of girls have a crush on him and he actually has friends? Grades- pretty good, i feel like he would study a lot. i feel like his handwriting is like readable but like slanted to the side.
Megumi
undoubtedly that stoic kid but has a bunch of friends who are like crackheads but not actually crackheads. He definitely has the best grades in the class- i believe he has a funny obsession with like specific kinds of washi tape like ones that have little dogs on it, like his notes are so pretty and he writes his a's funny like the way it shows up when its typed (a) like i do this but like i feel like he would too, and he would put lines through his z's. that one kid that's notes are so pretty it's like they spend hours on it but he somehow does it in in class and keeps up with all his notes, like each topic is color coded. his handwriting would be so fricking fancy like you have no idea how he does it but its like so normal to him.
nobara
that one girl, that like has a shopping addiction and will refuse wearing anything that isn't the best of the best cotton or like silk. like she will be constantly complaining about how she doesn't have anything to wear but never wears the same outfit more than once a month like you have no clue how she does it, but if you go over to her house she has a fricking walk in closet and her clothes are colour coded, like she's got one section for black, one for red and so on so forth. Her grades, are like terrible for someone you've like never seen studying but she always says she does for like hours on end. her notes look like someone hung her from the ceiling and forced her to write them, like they're weirdly long and big but like when she writes essays they're quite good. When she does exams and stuff she doesn't do well in the slightest (#relatable), but she's super smart in class.
Choso -
since he's like super old but looks like a mid 20s guy, Imma do him too. That one kid that seems so scary but is like a total cinnamon roll. He's like that one kid that everyone wants to be friends with but for some reason he's really intimidating. Like for example, if you say something he doesn't like, or doesn't agree with, he'll just kind of stare at you and be like ??? wdym you don't like butter on toast??? its the best. I feel like he also has this unadulterated hatred for mayonnaise, he'll specifically ask the lunch lady like "miss, is there any mayonnaise???" i headcanon him as having this really cute love for like shiba inus, like his background on his computer is this really small and adorable dog but like everyone expects him to have a doberman or something. But no!!! SHIBA INUS. I think his handwriting would be so old fashioned like he doesn't write words such as "they've" he'll write something like "they have". Unnecessarily drags out words when he says them but like it's so cute cuz he's adorable. has no idea what goes on in class but actually does really well in his studies. I feel like he'll be that kid with the newest stuff but he has no clue how to use them.
Panda
the fact that no one even finds it strange how theres a panda in their class is concerning but maybe like they think he's a kid who just likes looking like a panda. HE LOVES SAUSAGES. like has like three of them in his school bag like buddy?? um go for it i guess. His grades are literally the worst. He'll be like OMG GUYS I GOT LIKE 32% like bro what?? his highest grade ever would be like 58% no clue how hes gonna get into uni. his handwriting?? Like gojo. Chicken scratch. He loves listening to music in class and doesn't pay much attention but somehow never gets in trouble?
Let me know if u guys want a part two!
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And now, the Norse
Here’s the Captain America one.
Here’s the Seven (HoO) + Nico’s
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@calyxthenerd​, Darling, of course I would. Although I must apologise if they start to look a little similar, I only have around 4-5 handwritings on rotate.
And so, as requested, signatures/handwritng of select characters from Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard.
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Magnus: A lot of left-handed people I know have really neat handwriting, so I gave Magnus pretty neat handwriting. But like all left-handed people, he suffers from ink smudging. Also, his is non-cursive because it’s quite hard to write cursive with your left hand.
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Alex: Alex is fluid, so I just wrote in what I call my personal ‘essay writing’ font. For me, this font is the most fluid and easy to write in, so I gave this one to Alex. The font is influenced by the Palmer Method, a style I only learnt this year.
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Sam: She has what people call neat handwriting. Not quite those studyblr chapter summary kind of handwriting, you know, the ones that look like they’re printed. This one is... scarily similar to my natural handwriting.
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Hearth: This is what I think Hearth’s anglicised handwriting would look like. Edgy and rune-like. I did these guys in a rush so I don’t think they’re edgy enough, but I doubt Hearth writes in English very much.
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Blitzen: I feel like he’d have beautiful handwriting. Dwarves are classy okay! Blitzen’s is like, the less fancy font in comparison to all the other dwarves, but still fucking beautiful in contrast to most people’s chicken scratch.
As said before, always happy to take in requests :)
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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years ago
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Date Night || Joe Mazzello x fem!Reader
summary || the fact that you’re late to work in the morning is not your fault. the fault lies with Joe, the cute guy who works at the coffee shop that’s just a little too far out of your way to be convenient.
rating || explicit (18+ only). do not read if you are under eighteen. the smut is only towards the end - before that, it’s just fluff.
word count || 3.3k.
author’s notes || thank you SO MUCH @queenmylovely​ for your patience. here, finally, a week late, is your stl fic, and i am your secret valentine. sorry i did a bit of a rubbish job at it! thanks again to @dtfrogertaylor​ for creating and hosting the event.
masterlist
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     Yes, you’re going to be late for work again. Yes, you know you should just go to the coffee shop that’s on the way. Or at least you should’ve left earlier if you knew you were going to the coffee shop.
    The coffee shop. The one with the cute boy who works there on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings.
    The cute boy who always makes you late. Well, he doesn’t make you late. But his existence makes you late, because you always go out of your way three times a week to see him, and you somehow always forget that it really is quite considerably out of your way.
    Does that make you sad? Maybe. But there are worse things in life.
    He greets you with a big smile, as he always does. His eyes are dark brown; his hair is reddish. He remembers your coffee order, as he always does, too. And your name.
    His name is Joe. You know that from his nametag. But you don’t know much else about him.
    You stand to the side and watch him work as you wait for your coffee. He has a particular cadence to his voice, a way he nods and shakes his head as he speaks. When he’s standing idle, waiting for customers, he plays with his fingers.
    It’s been six months since the first time you visited this coffee shop one fateful Monday, totally on a whim. The coffee is good – it’s better when Joe makes it, but it’s never bad coffee – so you came back the next week on the Wednesday, and that’s when you saw Joe for the first time.
    To call it ‘love at first sight’ is a bit dramatic. But it wasn’t far off. It took a few weeks to figure out his schedule, but when you did, it became part of your routine.
    You’re not super proud of it. You tell yourself you’re building up the courage to ask him out on a date. But six months is an awfully long time to build up courage. Now it just feels a bit like stalking.
    You watch as he keeps half an eye on the coffee being made behind him as he serves customers. Then, at some point, he ducks away from the register to take a coffee out of the barista’s hand, so he can bring it over to the counter. You’re standing right by, but he calls your name anyway.
    This is also part of the whole song-and-dance the two of you have: he’s always the one to give you your coffee, even if it’s not him who has made it. He always calls your name, and it makes your heart sing.
    “Thank you, Joe,” you say, taking the coffee from him.
    “You’re most welcome, [Y/N],” he says. He talks fairly quickly, in that unusual cadence, and his eyes are warm. “I hope you have a lovely day.”
    “You too,” you say.
    “Thank you,” he says.
    “You’re most welcome,” you reply.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    “Sure will.”
    “Looking forward to it.”
    “Likewise.”
    “Joe,” says the barista, smacking Joe with her tea towel, and Joe flinches. “Customers.”
    “Right, sorry,” Joe says. He turns back to you. “I’ll see you later.”
    “Yeah,” you say with a smile.
    “Joe.”
    “Sorry, jeez.” Joe shoots you an apologetic smile, and hops back to the register.
    It’s usually how the morning goes. Your boss gives you a talking-to for being late, and you apologise and promise it won’t happen again.
    It will. But it’s worth it.
    And at night, if a certain face pops into your head while you’re having some… personal time, then that’s your business, isn’t it?
-
    You check your phone as you hurry towards the coffee shop. Late again. Later than usual, actually. The neighbour’s dog kept you up all last night with its incessant barking. Why the hell would anyone get a dog if they couldn’t be bothered to train it? Now the dog’s miserable, and the owners would be miserable, and everyone on the block is miserable. Idiots.
    There’s a text from your friend Josie. We still on for brunch tomorrow?
    Uh, yeah, you text back, and almost run into someone passing you. It’s galentine’s day, can’t miss that.
    The coffee shop door opens, and you almost get smacked in the face. You apologise to the person exiting, even though you don’t really have anything to apologise for, and slip into the café.
    The walls are dotted with posters advertising the café’s special Valentine’s Day-themed lattes and snacks. You almost consider getting one – the raspberry white chocolate latte looks pretty good, actually, and maybe you could ask for an extra shot of espresso to wake you up – but then you hear your name.
    Joe’s there at the serving counter, setting down a coffee. He meets your eyes, and grins – your stomach flips – and gestures to your coffee.
    You wander over, confused. “But I…”
    “You were late,” Joe says with a shrug. “Figured you’d need it to go in a hurry.”
    You feel a beaming smile burst onto your face before you can help it, and you gratefully take the coffee, curling your hands around it. “Oh, Joe, that’s so sweet of you,” you say, and Joe’s ears turn red.
    He shrugs again, glancing away, flustered, and you giggle.
    “Let me pay, at least,” you say.
    “No need,” Joe says. “It’s on the house.”
    Your mouth falls open. “No, Joe, I can’t–”
    “Go on, you’re gonna be late,” Joe says, cutting you off. “Just – look at the cup before you throw it out.”
    You frown, and lift the cup to look, but Joe blurts out, “Not now! Later. When you’re done.”
    “Customers, Joe,” the barista says tiredly.
    “Thank you,” you say. “I’ll see you next week.”
    “Yeah,” Joe says, after half a beat too long. “Yeah, see you then. Have a good day.”
    “You too,” you say, and hurry out the door.
    You want to check the cup as soon as you can, but first you have to make sure you won’t get fired.
    You’re lucky your boss likes you so much.
    By the time you get to work and settle in, you’ve almost forgotten what Joe told you, and it’s only when you’ve finished your coffee and are about to throw it out when black handwriting on the cup catches your eye.
    It’s hard to read – it was obviously done in a rush – but it’s a message and a phone number.
    Too chicken to ask you face to face, the message says. Go out w/ me on Valentine’s Day? Joe x
    You let out a tiny squeak of excitement, ignoring the confused looks sent your way.
    You whip out your phone and send the text straight away. It’s [Y/N]. How does dinner sound?
-
    Joe insists on going all old-fashioned, picking you up and bringing you flowers. “I’m trying to woo you,” he says when you protest all the effort as you carry the flowers into the kitchen. “I can’t woo you if you won’t let me.”
    “You don’t need to woo me,” you say with a laugh.
    “I want to,” Joe says.
    You pause, turning back to smile at him, and the smile he gives you in return in excited and eager and just a little bit shy, and you say, “Okay. You can woo me.”
    You find a vase, and set the flowers in your living room.
    “You look beautiful, by the way,” Joe says.
    You look down at your outfit to avoid his gaze. You’re dressed up, sure, but you’re not exactly red carpet ready. “Oh, thanks,” you say with a chuckle. You glance up at him, and blurt out, “You too.”
    Joe beams. “Thank you,” he says. Then he holds out his arm. “Shall we go?”
    You scoff at his gesture, but hook your arm through his, and he leads you out to the car.
    It feels like a breath of fresh air to finally get to know Joe on more than a superficial level. He tells you about his family, his favourite movies and food and drink, where he grew up. He tells you about his friends, and the mischief he got up to when he was growing up.
    He asks about you, too, and you have a feeling he’s been dying to know more about you just as you have with him. He asks so many questions that you almost feel self-conscious about how much you’re talking, but he listens so intently that you can’t help but answer every single question he asks.
    He’s booked you both into a nice restaurant. Italian. Not too fancy, but still a little bit nicer than you’d usually shoot for on a first date. It thrills you to no end.
    “I hope this isn’t too much,” Joe says as he pulls your chair out for you to sit down. “I just…” He scratches behind his ear. “Y’know, I’ve sorta wanted to ask you out for a few months now, and I got really excited when you said yes, so I guess I– I just kinda went for it with the restaurant. I hope it doesn’t…” He chuckles awkwardly. “Hope it doesn’t scare you off or anything.”
    “No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, I…” The fact that you wanted to impress me and that you’ve wanted to ask me out for so long is probably the best thing ever. “I feel very much wooed. And I quite like it, I think.”
    “Oh, good,” Joe says, and the relief is unmistakable.
    First dates are usually awkward, and, as much as you like Joe, you’re still expecting the awkwardness.
    But it never comes. It’s like you’ve known each other for years.
    He’s funny, but you knew that already. You end up accidentally choking on your wine from a joke of his, and he apologises profusely in between his bouts of laughter. You both frantically try to stifle your giggles – and you your extremely unladylike hacking coughs – shrinking down in your seats as you’re given unimpressed looks from other patrons.
    You quickly find out that he’s an avid baseball fan. ‘Avid’ might be too mild a descriptor. His eyes light up when you ask about it, and he launches into a detailed description of his favourite team and his favourite player and his favourite game that he’s ever watched. You watch in awe and delight as he grows more and more animated, gesturing wildly with his hands, and it’s only after he eventually draws to a close that he realises how loud his voice has become.
    He hunkers down in his seat again. “Sorry,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I really like baseball.”
    “Don’t apologise,” you say. “I think it’s great.”
    “I know I can be really loud,” he adds. “My friends give me shit for it all the time. Sorry.”
    “I don’t care,” you say with a shrug. “You said you were Italian, weren’t you?”
    Joe snorts a laugh. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, that also explains the, uh–”
    “The gesturing?” you say, at the same time Joe says, “The hand gestures.”
    “Yeah,” Joe says, and he laughs.
    He looks down at his meal, suddenly quiet, and he twirls some spaghetti around his fork. “Maybe I could take you to a, uh, a game,” he says, glancing up at you. “Some time. If you’d like.”
    You bite on your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
    Joe’s smile, the look in his eyes, sends a bolt of heat all through your body. “Okay,” he says, nodding as well. “Yeah, cool.”
    You offer to share a dessert, and Joe happily accepts. It’s some pricey piece of chocolate cake with peanut praline that looks better than it tastes, as most pricey desserts do, but it’s worth it to have Joe’s hand close to yours as you both dig at the slice with your forks.
    The smiles you’re both exchanging now have a certain unmistakable weight to them that makes your stomach bloom with butterflies. You catch Joe’s eyes wandering down your neck a couple of times, although he does his best to hide it.
    You both eat dessert a little more quickly than is warranted.
    Despite Joe’s overwhelming need to woo, you refuse to let him pay for the whole meal. He tries to talk you out of it, saying that it wasn’t fair of you to pay when you didn’t choose the venue, but you’re not having it. You end up splitting it, and Joe mumbles an abashed ‘thank you’.
    You’re both still chatty and excitable on the drive home, but there’s extra jitters in the air. Nothing has been discussed about what comes next, but it’s easy to tell where it’s going to go.
    Joe parks outside your flat. Pulls the handbrake.
    The car falls silent.
    “Thanks for coming out with me,” Joe says, looking to you. His cheeks are flushed from the wine, and you desperately want to kiss him. “I had a really nice time.”
    “I did too,” you say. “Thanks for driving me.”
    “No problem,” Joe says.
    You both look at each other. Waiting.
    You lean in first, capturing his lips in yours. He kisses back without hesitation, cupping your cheek in his palm.
    You’d meant for it to be short and sweet, but now that you’ve started, you’re finding it hard to stop, and Joe seems to feel the same way.
    Eventually, though, you break away, and ask a little shakily, “You wanna come up?”
    “Yeah,” Joe says. You think he was aiming for casual, but it’s far too easy to read the eagerness in his voice.
-
    “God, Joe,” you breathe as Joe presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh.
    He gives you a heated smile. “Good?”
    “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, so good.”
    He crawls up your body again, holding himself up above you, and he kisses you deeply. You coax his mouth open, and you taste traces of yourself on his tongue.
    You roll him over, straddling him, and kiss him again once before reaching over to your bedside table, yanking the drawer open and fumbling for a condom. Joe’s hands slide down your sides, over your ribs, the curve of your waist. You pull out a condom and rip open the packing, and he wordlessly takes it from you and rolls it onto himself.
    You grind against him, hissing at the feeling of him, hot and hard, and he grips your hips, gasping out, “Fuck.”
    You kiss him again, and it’s all tongue and teeth, and then he’s taking his cock and stroking the tip through you a few times. Your hand joins his, and you hold him steady as you sink down onto him slowly, taking him inch by inch.
    Joe moans, deep and rough. “Shit.” He holds your waist in one hand and the bedsheets in the other, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself.
    “You feel so good,” you say, your breathing ragged, and you settle in his lap, giving an experimental wiggle of your hips.
    Joe lets out a laugh, and you smile. “What?”
    “Nothing,” he says. “You just feel… fuckin’ great.”
    You hum. “Thanks,” you say teasingly, and rock forward.
    Joe’s hips buck against yours. “Oh my God, please move,” he says, his voice tight.
    You do, grinding against him, and you brace yourself on his chest as you pick up speed, bouncing his lap, and he lifts his hips to meet yours.
    He hisses out your name, holding tightly onto your hips, and then he surges forward, sitting up and rolling you both over.
    You let out a small yelp of surprise, and he says a quick apology before burying himself in you again, and you yank him down for a kiss as he thrusts in and out of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he takes a moment to adjust to take hold of one of your knees and press it up against your chest, and you whine at the feeling.
    “Joe, fuck, just like that,” you gasp, and he drives into you hard, burying his face in your neck, and you claw at his shoulders.
    “You feel so fucking good,” he says weakly, “oh my God.”
    “You gonna come?” you ask him.
    He makes a sound you guess is meant to be uh-huh, and you wriggle a hand in between the two of you to rub your clit. He mouths at your throat, and lets go of your knee to brace himself on the bed again.
    You can feel yourself rapidly building, and Joe takes a moment to pause and gather himself, adjusting his arms on the bed. You’re both panting and sweaty, and Joe kisses you as he picks up again, just thrusting slowly, watching you carefully, his eyes dark and hot on your face.
    You’re still massaging your clit, still climbing, and you whimper, your back arching.
    “That’s it, touch yourself,” Joe breathes. “Want you to come on my cock.”
    “Shit, Joe,” you say, almost in surprise, and Joe smirks.
    “Well, it’s true,” he says, and you giggle, then gasp when he does a particularly harder thrust.
    He starts speeding up again, hitting you deep, and it feels so good, and you’re getting closer and closer.
    He drops his head to your shoulder again, and he moans, his hips jerking erratically. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”
    You grab at his back with your free hand, squeezing your legs tighter around him, urging him on. “Yes, Joe, come on.”
    You’re on the edge yourself, and your hard is growing tired, but it’s hard to care when you’re so close, you’re so close, and then Joe’s hips snap against you, and he stills as he comes, moaning out your name. His body heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and he pushes himself up and presses his forehead to yours, gripping your hip with one hand as his hips move a few more times, whispering words of encouragement. It’s just enough to push you over the edge, and you let out a broken moan, twitching and shuddering, and he dots kisses all over your cheeks, the corner of your lips, your temple.
    When you’ve come down from your orgasm, he eases himself out of you and flops down on the bed next to you. You both look at each other, and smile widely.
    “Consider me officially wooed,” you say, and Joe laughs breathlessly.
    “Consider me officially wooed,” he says. “Holy shit.” He rolls over and kisses you, and you smile against his lips.
    He breaks away to take off the condom and throw it in the bin in the corner of your room, and then joins you back on the bed.
    “You gonna kick me out?” he asks, dragging you in closer by your waist. It’s half-joking, half-serious, and you smooth your hand over his shoulder, pretending to think about it.
    “Not yet,” you say. “But I am expecting you to make me some very good coffee in the morning.”
    “I’ll let you in on a secret,” Joe says. His thumb circles your hip. “It’s about how good the coffee beans are. I don’t really do anything to make it taste better.”
    “Nonsense,” you say. “You’ve got the magic touch.”
    Joe quirks a brow. “Oh, do I?” he purrs suggestively.
    You laugh. “Oh, I see, it’s like that, is it?”
    Joe steals a few kisses. “You’re just too hard to resist,” he murmurs.
    You hum approvingly. “Well, Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” you say chirpily, and Joe huffs a laugh, then pulls you in impossibly closer, kissing you like it’s his last day on Earth.
    The coffee he makes you the next morning is the best coffee you’ve ever had.
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ballumsecretvalentine · 5 years ago
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Four months, two weeks and five days
Happy Valentines Day @dingletragedy 💖
“Dear Ben,
I hope that you are doing well. Apart from getting up at all hours and going backwards and forth from the kitchen and standing at the firing line, I’m not doing too bad myself. Thank you for sending me letters, they really make these dark days here much brighter and they make me smile. It is funny how I have only had you in my life for a few short months and I already recognise your squiggly handwriting and it makes my heart burst when I receive them.
I really don’t know why you are waiting for me but I’m so happy that you are as ever since Chris, I have never felt this way about a guy before. I really do miss you. You make me so happy and I really cannot wait to see you very soon. I will make a note of the dinner arrangements for when I come back and I will also text you on the day just to make sure we are still good for our date! Maybe the next time that I have to go away, we can invest in Skype because at least I would be able to see that cheeky smile of yours more often despite being on the other side of the world.
Apart from being out on the battlefield, Tom and I have been experimenting with new dishes in the kitchens. We have come up with this amazing chicken pasta recipe…well more like I did! 😊  It goes down a storm in the army! I will have to make it for you when I come back, I’m sure Stuart and Rainie will not mind making themselves scarce for a bit.
I cannot believe and it really does break my heart that we have been apart for over 4 months but you will be worth the wait. I cannot wait to be reunited with you again my love.
I’ll see you very soon.
All my love always,
Callum xxxxxx ”
Four months, two weeks and five days. That’s how long they had been apart.
Ben was thankful that no one had walked into the car lot when he was reading his lover’s letter, it would have destroyed his bad boy reputation. His cheeks were a radiant shade of pink and he was smiling so widely that you could actually see his teeth which rarely happened, unless you walked in when Ben was brushing his teeth or using a toothpick to discreetly pick food out of his teeth.
Callum seemed to have that effect on Ben and Ben did not know how it happened and he had no control whatsoever over it. Callum was only supposed to be one in his long line of one night stands but here he was, four months, two weeks and five days later, and the man who called himself Callum Highway had filled his heart in ways that were indescribable but it was an amazing feeling. A beautiful and exotic feeling and Ben had not felt this way since Paul. To be honest, Ben was starting to sadly wonder that maybe Paul never made him feel this way.  
Ben sighed happily as he put his tartan coat on and hid his letter from Callum safely in the inside pocket. He strolled out of the car lot with a spring in his step and locked the door behind him. As he walked through the Square gardens, he inhaled the smell of a crisp winter’s morning and cold air blew out of his parted lips.
Nothing would destruct this delightful mood that Ben was in as he smiled to himself. People who knew Ben around here would probably have their suspicions that he was up to something.
But he wasn’t.
It had been four months, two weeks and five days.
And today was the day that Ben Mitchell was going to be reunited with Callum Highway.
/*/*/*/*/
Ben sat on a stool at the bar of the Prince Albert. He tilted his head back and shut his eyes as he tipped a shot of the burning liquid down his throat and leaning forward against the bar whilst he scrunched his whole face together in a grimace as the shot sent bright orange flames through his blood stream. Ben had only arrived ten minutes before and he had already downed two shots and drank half of his beer. He had a row with his mother about him staying out late and constantly reminding him about his responsibilities as a father to his little girl, Lexi. After a few retaliations, Ben stormed out of the house and ended up at the gay bar that his mother happened to own.
Ben let out a heavy sigh and planted his face in his hands, letting his hands run down his face as he let out a soft groan.  
“Alright sweetheart, what can I get ya?” He heard the female bartender ask the next customer close by.
“Just a bottle of beer please,” the bloke sounded polite.
When the bartender moved away, Ben sneaked a glance up to find a tall man standing close by to him and was smiling timidly as he looked around awkwardly, tapping his foot anxiously. From a side glance, Ben could already tell that his blue eyes shimmered beautifully under the many colourful disco lights that were flashing in every angle and every direction of the bar and he also had some amazing hair. Brown hair that was slicked to the side and raised a little at the front. You could tell the guy had spent a lot of time and effort to get it perfect and precise. He did not even know the bloke but just from a single look, he could tell that this guy was rather conscientious about his appearance.
“Have I got something on my face?”
Ben jumped slightly as he got pulled away from his thoughts to find the guy looking back at him. His breath hitched at the back of his throat.
“Sorry,” Ben coughed awkwardly as he scratched his chin. “I didn’t realise I was staring, was deep in thought and you just happened to be in my eyeline.”
The guy gave a small smile, “It’s fine, I do that quite a lot.” He continued to look around the room awkwardly.
Ben took a gulp of his beer, “Are you okay? You look a bit lost?”
The guy looked back at Ben. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just not every day that I go to bars or clubs, especially a gay bar, even though I’m gay!” He chuckled nervously.
Ben licked his lips and raised his eyebrow intrigued, as he felt his heart leap. The right answer to his suspicion and he wouldn’t mind bagging him up and taking him home. “Oh yeah?”
The guy nodded, “Yeah.” He coughed slightly. “I’m Callum by the way.”
Ben flashed a smile. He wanted to get acquainted, he was in. Ben held his hand out, “Ben Mitchell.”
Callum shook his hand. His hand was warm and welcoming and just from one firm but gentle grip, they both felt safe.
“There you go darling.”
The bartender put Callum’s beer down on the bar making Ben and Callum claim their allocated hands back.
“Thank you,” Callum gave a small smile as he took a sip of his beer whilst Ben took another sip of his.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” The bartender smiled politely.
Callum stole a glance over at Ben who was looking up at him with the beer bottle still held at his lips. “Did you want a refill?” He asked.
Ben took the bottle away from his mouth and held it up, observing the amount of liquid that remained in the bottle.
“Yeah go on then,” Ben smiled. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll buy as a couple of shots later!”
The bartender smiled at them both before she went to get Ben’s beer. Callum laughed as he took his wallet out of his inside pocket of his navy-blue jacket. Ben stole another look at Callum and smiled mischievously.
“There you go,” the bartender put the beer down in front of Ben and turned back to Callum. “That’ll be £12.17 please.”
Callum took his debit card out of his wallet and scanned the card using contactless. The card reader bleeped as it registered that the drinks had been paid for.  The bartender thanked him with a smile before quickly moving onto the next customer.
“So,” Ben cleared his throat as Callum took a seat on the stall next to Ben and watched as he took a sip of his beer. “I take it you’re not from around these parts if you very rarely go to bars or clubs unless you’re a bit of a hermit?” He teased.
Callum smiled. He had a beautiful smile, Ben registered. “No,” Callum chuckled. “I’ve just come back from the army. I’m in the army for a few weeks, mostly months at a time. I’ve come back to visit my brother, who would rather still spend time with his girlfriend who he sees every day.”
Ben threw his head back and laughed, “Families, eh? Who would have ‘em?”
Callum let out a small sigh, “Yeah. Oh well. It’s nice to be free for a bit.” He shrugged as he took another gulp of his beer.
Ben smiled as he stroked the neck of his beer bottle, “So the army? What’s it like?”
Callum shrugged, “It’s alright. I mainly work in the kitchens, but I do go out on the field quite a bit too. Guess it gives me a purpose in life and when you have time off and  you can properly catch up with friends and family, it makes you appreciate the things you have in life more.”
Ben nodded. “Well, I’ve always wanted to meet a hero.” He added smoothly, smiling cheekily up at Callum.
Callum looked at Ben and rolled his eyes as he laughed humorously. Ben let out a slight chuckle. Once the laughing had died down, they both found themselves looking at each other and their eyes were locked together for longer than what they thought. Callum smiled at Ben and looked down, feeling his cheeks start to flush. Ben smirked as he finished off his first beer. Callum looked back up to find Ben gazing at him, those mischievous dazzling blue eyes sparkling in his orbit. Callum found himself automatically smiling shyly back at Ben, like he was on auto pilot.
Ben had suddenly found that his sour mood had faded very quickly since this mysterious handsome soldier entered his life for the evening.  
*/*/*/*/
“Ben, BEN!”
Ben jumped as he got dragged away from his pondering thoughts as he looked towards Jay who was sitting opposite him with an annoyed look on his face. He was sitting in the café having breakfast with him.
Ben cleared his throat, “Sorry bruv, totally out of it then,” he let out a breath as he picked up a sausage from his plate and bit half of it.
“Yes, I could tell,” Jay rolled his eyes as he went back to reading the paper. “I swear ever since this Callum came on the scene, you’ve switched off. The eyes are there but the ears…” He scoffed.
“I’m sorry,” Ben apologised genuinely. “He’s coming back today and I’m just so nervous. Like what if he’s had second thoughts?” He begins to ramble.
Jay looked up from his newspaper, “I think you’ll be able to convince him to change his mind if that were the case.” He piped up. “And even if he did have second thoughts, he wouldn’t be writing to you every week would he. He must be keen which I can’t see for the life of me why.”
“Just because you’ve only managed to properly pull two women in your lifetime,” Ben retorted. “Both of them in which I slept with as well,” he pointed out smugly which made Jay’s eyes roll.
Ben finished his coffee with a big loud slurp much to the irritation of Jay before putting his mug down, “Anyway I better get off, those motors won’t sell themselves.”  
“Alright mate, will I get to see ya before the big date?” Jay asked.
“Well it depends whether you decide to take a break from the dead and grace me with your presence,” Ben quipped as he held his hand out to Jay and slapped his hand into his.
Jay rolled his eyes smiling, “Well if I don’t see ya, hope it goes alright and I’ll tell your mum not to wait up.” He smirked.
Ben chuckled and walked out of the café, waving Kathy goodbye on the way out.  
*/*/*/*/
“To my darling hero Callum,
I hope that you are well and I hope that you are keeping safe as I am dying to see those beautiful blue eyes of yours and your smile that just lights up a room. I cannot wait to see you. I am counting down the days until I get to see you again. It’s been too long since I last saw you, just over four months ago to be exact.
I cannot wait to see you so we can distract each other from our sleuthing by whispering sweet nothings in your ear and spending countless hours in bed with you. You could probably do with all the rest you can get but I’ll warn you, it’s going to be very doubtful as I want to get as much of you I can get before you leave me again. I’m sorry if I sound selfish. I’ve only known you for a short amount of time, but it feels like I’ve known you for longer. For the first time ever, I believe that it really was fate that brought us together. I miss you so much, babe.
I also look forward to seeing you playing wifey and cook this chicken pasta that you’re raving about for me. I hope you like burgers as that’s what my brother’s restaurant mainly serves and he keeps putting the restaurant up for nominations and cannot see why other restaurants are ahead of his??  If you don’t like burgers, I think I know something else that you could devour on instead 😉 Plus I would also like to show you off as you already mean so much to me. I was also thinking of maybe introducing you to Lexi if it’s okay with Lola and also if you want to? But I will have to make her try to understand that you will have to keep going away. I’m sure she will understand if I tell her you’re some superhero who fights off the bad men!
Anyway, I’ll let you go now. We will have a lot of catching up to do when you get back.
Forever counting down the days my handsome soldier.
All my love,
Ben xxxxxxxxxxxxx
If he smiled any wider, he swore his face would split in two. Callum Highway looked up from the letter and his eyes searched his surroundings as he sat in the back of a black cab as it started to drive through Albert Square.
He was getting closer to his love. The extraordinary man who has only been in his life for a few short months but already means the world to him and plays a big part in his life. Since Chris, Callum thought he would never get this chance again, the chance to find love and be the happiest he has ever been, but he did and in the least unexpected ways possible. Callum very rarely stepped foot in a bar let alone had a drink in one but on the one occasion that he did to get away from his brother Stuart and his girlfriend Rainie, he managed to find love himself and it was the best feeling in the world.
Ben was different compared to Chris. Ben was cheeky, flirty, gorgeous and was so soft, even though he acted like the hard man at times to most people but he was one of the lucky ones who saw the soft side, who got to see his heart and who Ben purely was. Callum did not think Ben would ever be his type but he was and he is and could not be happier that their paths entwined. Ben made Callum feel all warm and fuzzy inside and most of all, Ben understood Callum, he could see right through him and the amazing thing is was that Callum could see right through Ben as well.
“Coker and Mitchells?” The taxi driver called out for clarification.
“Yes,” Callum responded as they drove past the small market area. “Just here, thanks.” He said as they pulled up outside the funeral parlour. Callum looked up and smiled. He was at his destination and within a few hours, Ben could be there with him, in each other’s orbits.
After four months, two weeks and five days.
“That’ll be £35 please mate,” said the taxi driver.
Callum got out his wallet and paid the taxi driver before shuffling out the back of the black cab with his massive rucksack following behind him. Callum stepped out of the black cab dressed in his army uniform from head to toe with his rucksack hauled on his back. He turned his head to find the usual combustion of the market and people going about their day to day lives. These days, Callum wished that in a way he could have this life, but he kept pondering whether this life was for him or whether he was born to be out on the battlefield.
Callum sighed as he stepped up onto the pavement and pressed the buzzer to the flat.
“Hello?” A cockney voice echoed through the outside intercom.
“Stu, it’s me,” Callum responded in a chirpy tone.
“Bruv!” Stuart exclaimed excitedly. “I’ll buzz you up.”
With that, there was a loud buzz and the front door opened. Callum entered the flat and went up the stairs but was not expecting to be pounced on by his heavy (and much bigger than him) brother Stuart as soon as he stepped foot into the flat. Stuart enveloped Callum in a tight hug.
“It’s so good to see you,” Stuart murmured into Callum’s shoulder.
“It’s good to see you too,” Callum smiled, patting Stuart on the back. They pulled away from their embrace and walked further into the flat.
“Would you like a drink?” Stuart offered as he made his way into the small kitchen area.
“I could murder a cup of tea,” Callum sighed dreamily as he dropped his rucksack down on the sofa.
“Coming right up!”
Rainie suddenly came out of the master bedroom.
“Ah, I thought I heard your voice!” Rainie squealed excitedly, as she rushed over to Callum and pulled him into a tight embrace. When she pulled away, she ran her hands down his arms. Callum was like a little brother to her even if the feeling might not be mutual. “How was the journey?”
“Not too bad,” Callum responded. “Just a bit tired.”
“Well you might want to get some kip before your big date tonight,” Rainie suggested with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Want to save your energy. You had a delivery come through, not from Ann Summers is it?” Rainie prodded teasingly, winking melodramatically.
“Rainie!” Stuart exclaimed as he got three mugs out of the cupboard.
Callum felt his cheeks turn slightly hot and laughed awkwardly, “No, I got a new shirt for tonight. Want to try and make the effort.”
Rainie smiled and folded her arms across her chest, “I saw lover boy in the café this morning.”
“Did you?” Callum said a little too enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up.
“Yes with Jay, looked completely not with it, must have been thinking of you,” Rainie commented playfully which made Callum chuckle embarrassingly.
Stuart rolled his eyes as he turned and waited for the kettle to boil.
“I better text him in a minute, let him know I’m back,” Callum says as he went to grab his rucksack from the sofa. “I’m going to go and get changed and I’ll come back out for a catch up in a bit.” He hauled the heavy rucksack on his back.
“Alright bruv,” Stuart acknowledged. “Your package is just on the side there.” He pointed to the kitchen counter.
“Thanks,” Callum smiled briefly and grabbed the parcel before retiring for a short while into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him.
He put the rucksack down on the bed and ripped open the parcel to reveal a plain navy shirt. He removed the clear foil from the shirt as he walked over to the landscape mirror on the wall and held the shirt up against him. He flashed a wide smile at his reflection.
After days of waiting for this day to finally happen, it was finally here.
*/*/*/*/
They ended up on the top terrace of the Prince Albert leaning against the balcony drinking beer as they laughed freely and happily. They ended up talking for hours and learnt a fair bit about each other through the course of evening. They learnt about each other’s lives and their families. They were both astonished when they realised that they had both lost someone they loved.
“I wonder if our past significant others planned this y’know,” Ben suggested, teasingly. “Paul could be a bit of wind up merchant at times.”  He chuckled slightly, scratching the stubble on the side of his face as he reminisced about his past love.
“Yeah so could Chris,” Callum smiled, mesmerizingly. He looked up the stars that were twinkling and shimmering their light down towards them and a soft and gentle expression formed on Callum’s face.
“I forgot to ask,” Ben cleared his throat, scratching the stubble on the side of his face. “Since you know my last name, what’s yours? You know so I can add you on Facebook.” He winked.
Callum laughed softly, it was a beautiful sound, followed by his wide cheesy smile that Ben had very quickly grown to love. “It’s Highway.”
Ben smirked, “Well maybe I fancy taking the Highway tonight.” He quipped, flirtatiously.
Callum tutted and rolled his eyes with a smirk, feeling himself blushing slightly. Ben chuckled and watched Callum for a moment as he was looked up at the beautiful night sky with Callum. Ben did not realise until now how amazing the dark sky could be with all it’s twinkling stars and all the continents out there. The universe really could be an incredible thing.
Callum licked his lips as he continued looking up the sky with a tilt of his head. “Do you believe in fate?”
Ben burst out laughing, “Not necessarily, no.”  
Callum ended up laughing with him. Once the laughing had died down, Callum looked over at Ben to find him gazing up at him, his eyes burning into him. Callum gulped.
“What?” Callum chuckled nervously.
That’s when it clicked. The sudden need for Callum emerged from Ben as he felt the fire roaring from the pit of his stomach. The unexpected urge to be close to Callum. However, it wasn’t as unexpected as he thought as his feelings were brewing since the moment Callum walked into the bar and suddenly, he craved for Callum’s touch, for Callum’s lips against his. Ben looked at Callum with want and burning passion. Callum’s awaiting gaze was burning into him like he was imprinting himself into his heart and soul.
It was now or never.
Ben leaned forward and pressed his lips against Callum’s for a single full on kiss before quickly pulling away. Ben waited for a reaction.  Callum’s eyes turned dark and lustful as he stared back at Ben and before Ben knew it, his lips were being pounded by Callum’s as they came crashing down and it felt like the thrill of fireworks when they explode in the night sky. Callum clasped Ben’s lips in a passionate kiss which Ben eagerly responded to as he tugged at the lapels on Callum’s thin navy bomber jacket whilst Callum cradled the back of Ben’s head, running his fingers through his hair. Ben moaned softly into Callum’s mouth which allowed Callum to press his tongue into Ben’s mouth. Ben collided his tongue with Callum’s. Both were moaning into each other’s mouths as Callum got pressed gently into the balcony, his back against it.
This was not really in Callum’s element but being out here with Ben in public, it felt so right and so comfortable that he was not worried about there being an audience or gawping eyes in their direction.
Ben pulled away, panting for breath, “You know what you just said about fate?” Ben said cheekily, “I think this is it.”
Callum smirked, “Do you want to go somewhere else?” He asked, grinding up against Ben.
“Woah,” Ben halted. “Easy tiger!” He added playfully making Callum chuckle and kiss him again.
“Where do you want to go?” Ben asked, “I’m already in mother’s bad books, I’m sure she would love for you to join us at the breakfast table in the morning.”
Callum laughed, slightly tipsy from the thrill and intoxication, “Well let’s go back to my brother’s flat?” He suggested.
Ben arched his eyebrow, “You sure? When he said you can stay for a few weeks, did that include bringing a guy you met at a bar back home?” He asked playfully.
Callum shrugged casually, “He’d want me to enjoy myself. Unless you don’t want to?” He challenged with a raise of his eyebrow.
“Oh believe me, I want to,” Ben said huskily, pulling Callum towards him by the lapels and kissing him again.
When they pulled away, Callum grabbed Ben by the hand and led him out of the bar. Their laughs and smooches of kisses echoing through the night sky.
*/*/*/*/
Callum left the guest bedroom and carefully shut the door behind him to find Stuart and Rainie sitting on the sofa nursing a cup of tea and smiling in Callum’s direction.
“You alright?” Stuart asked. “Tea’s on the side there.”
“Yeah I’m fine,” Callum smiled widely as he grabbed his cup of tea. “Thanks.”
Callum picked up his cup of tea and went to sit in the chair.
“So you all excited for your date later?” Rainie asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah I am,” Callum smiled shyly. “I’m just a bit nervous as I haven’t seen him in over four months. I know we have been writing back and forth but it’s not really the same. I’m looking forward to seeing him.” He said honestly.
“Well, Rainie and I are going out for the evening, using my bonus to take my lady to London for the evening so if you want to bring Ben back to the flat later on then you are more than welcome to,” Stuart offered.
Callum felt his cheeks flush as he looked down shyly and running his fingers through his hair. This was really happening and who knows where they will end up.
*/*/*/*/
Ben tapped his foot anxiously and was biting his nails nervously as he sat in Beale’s restaurant. It was nearly 7pm and he was due to meet Callum soon.
After four months, two weeks and five days, he was almost going to be reunited with him. He felt the butterflies churning in his stomach. He checked his phone to notice that he still had another 5 minutes until they were due to meet.
He couldn’t wait to see Callum. He had wondered what he would look like now, whether there would be any difference. Would he be slightly bigger or even skinnier than he was before? Would he have grown a beard? It didn’t matter to Ben as to him, Callum would be perfect. To Ben, he would still be the crystal blue eyed angel with the most angelic smile that lights up a room.
*/*/*/*/
The yellow light of the early morning sunshine blinded through the small gap between the curtains and illuminated the room with a soft glow. Ben stirred and wriggled slightly as he turned over in the bed and laid on his side and stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed. When all he grabbed was warm screwed up sheets, Ben’s eyes fluttered open and he frowned slightly. He hastily sat up in the bed and absorbed his surrounding with a grin on his face as he started to remember the night before where he copped off with the mysterious tall handsome soldier that he met at the Albert and at the end of the night, had brought Ben back to his brother’s flat.
Ben touched the side of his neck and ran his hand across it with a satisfied smile, having flashbacks of how Callum was sucking and nibbling on his neck between the sheets. Ben started to think of the Kings of Leon song ‘Sex is on Fire’ and he always use to think “How could sex feel like that?”. Then, in came Callum Highway who walked into the Albert looking sexy as hell and lifted him off his feet, literally. And what went on between those sheets was indescribable. It was exotic, it was very intimate, hot and playful and Ben had never felt any pleasure like it. Ben felt great. This sex really was on fire. It was a burning passion that Ben did not realise he had been craving for so badly and now that he had a taste of it, he wanted more.
Ben suddenly got a whiff of bacon floating under the bedroom door and heard the soft sound of the morning radio. Ben turned his head towards the bedroom door. Ben smiled as he scrambled out of the bed and managed to find, amongst the scattered clothes on the floor that were thrown across the room the night before, his boxers and jeans along with his t-shirt that he wore under his shirt. He quickly fumbled about putting them on, leaving his feet bare and his toes curling into the carpet as he opened the bedroom door.
He found Callum whistling merrily to himself in tune to the radio wearing a navy t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms. Ben had to smile as he leaned against the door frame due to that Kings of Leon song conveniently playing on the radio in the background.
“Ohhhh, ohhh, your sex is on fire!” Callum sang happily as he tossed the bacon in the pan.
“Ah thanks babe,” Ben piped up, jokingly.
Callum jumped and spun round on the spot, spatula in hand. “You’re awake,” he smiled happily.
Ben smiled genuinely as he strolled over to Callum and peered at what Callum was cooking. “I didn’t know you did a bed and breakfast service,” he commented playfully.
“Yeah well I thought you would have a bit of an appetite,” Callum said, as he swallowed and felt his cheeks flush, feeling confident to flirt with Ben back a bit but wasn’t confident enough for his response.
Ben smirked sexily and kissed Callum on the cheek, “Oh definitely. I should come here more often.”
“Would you?” Callum said a bit too enthusiastically, mentally kicking himself afterwards for being a bit too forward. Callum cleared his throat, “How do you like your eggs?” He asks, changing the subject.
Ben looked at Callum with a soft expression, “I would like to see you again,” he admitted sheepishly. “If you want to.”
“Really?” Callum said flabbergasted but couldn’t stop smiling.
Ben smiled back as he stroked down Callum’s arm, “Yeah I would. You may be going back to the army, but I feel like we’ve got something and I would like to see where this goes. I wouldn’t mind a bit more of your company before you have to go back as well.” Ben licked his lips.
“Yeah, me too,” Callum responded with a soft voice. “I’d like to see you again.”
Ben and Callum found themselves gazing into each other’s blue pools, it felt like time was slowing down around them and it was just them, in that moment, together. They both blinked and within that millisecond, time seemed to go back to normal.
“So how do you like your eggs?” Callum queried as he leaned back on the worktop next to the stove. He had a slight pout on his lips and his eyebrow slightly arched in question. “Fried or scrambled?”
“Poached,” Ben teased, putting his hands on Callum’s hips. The two of them chuckled softly and pulled each other in for a passionate kiss.
*/*/*/*/
“Ben.”
Ben looked up to find him standing there. After four months, two weeks and five days, he was finally standing there in front of him, in the flashlight and it felt like in that moment, Ben had his breath taken away.
“Callum,” Ben breathed out, in amazement.
“Wow, Ben Mitchell, speechless?” Callum smiled. “That’s something I thought I would never see.”
Ben smiled back. His eyes felt wet. This was actually happening. He was finding it hard to process that Callum was back with him.
“Come here,” Ben croaked out as he immediately stood up, pulling Callum by the lapels and connecting his lips with his in a deep loving kiss.
They only pulled away when they could hear Ian coughing and clearing his throat behind them as a distraction. Ben pulled away and turned around, scowling at Ian’s back. When Ben turned back to Callum, he grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit next to him on his side of the booth. Their entwined hands were in between their bodies, that could not be close enough if they tried, and Ben’s thumb was stroking his hand.
“I missed you so much,” Ben admitted desperately, swallowing a lump in his throat.
“I missed you too,” Callum responded with the same amount of desperation in his voice. He couldn’t resist but kissing Ben again for a single kiss.
“How are you?” Ben asked, his voice sounding concerned.
“Bearing up, just glad to be out for a few weeks,” Callum gave a small smile. “What about you?”
“I’m good,” Ben smiled back. “I’m just so happy to see you.”
“Me too,” Callum smiled just as widely. “Me too.”
“Are you two going to take a look at the menus at all, Ben or are you going to be all lovey dovey all night and scaring my customers away?” Ian interrupted rudely and snidely.
Ben looked around the restaurant, “What customers?” Ben challenged with a smirk. “Apart from us, there’s only two other tables.”
“Just hurry up and order,” Ian snapped hastily before marching off.  Ben put his middle finger up behind Ian’s back, making Callum chuckle.
Ben scoffed before turning back to Callum, “Sorry about my brother. I would love to say that he’s a lovely bloke deep down, but he really is a self-centered pompous twat.”
Callum chuckled, “I don’t mean to make things worse, but are you hungry?”
Ben smirked, “Why aren’t you?”
“I could eat if you’re hungry but I can wait,” Callum said, his eyes suddenly turning dark.
Ben gulped, “Thinking about it, I’ve lost my appetite.” He gazed up at Callum and allowed himself to be absorbed into Callum’s burning eyes.
“Will your brother mind?” Callum asked awkwardly, “We can always come here to eat another time.”
Ben laughed but smiled softly at Callum, his face full of devotion, “You really do worry too much babe.”
Ben stood up, “Ian!” he called out, “Change of plan, we’re going to head off.”
“What?!” Ian came back round from behind the bar outraged. “I could have got another table booked in! You’ve just wasted company’s time.”
Ben rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet, pulling out a tenner. “Look, here’s a tenner,” he slammed it down on the table. “I deeply apologise for the inconvenience that this has caused.”  He added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Ben took hold of Callum’s hand and led him out of the restaurant, Ian’s rants soon turning into silent echoes.
The cool air of the night caught Ben and Callum as they shivered slightly and breathed in the heavens of an already perfect evening. Their hands were clasped and swinging together and as they walked through the Square.
“So what did you have in mind?” Ben wondered. “We could always have a drink in the Albert?” He gestured with his head towards the Albert that was standing in all its bright colours and flashing lights, in all its glory. “Where it all began,” he added teasingly.
Callum smiled, “I was actually thinking of heading back to the flat. Stuart and Rainie are out for the evening so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
Ben turned to Callum and raised his eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” He smirked, playfully. “Fancy having me all to yourself, do ya?” He flirted.
“Yeah, I was thinking that maybe we can do what you mentioned in your letters,” Callum says suggestively, gulping afterwards.
“Callum Highway!” Ben gasped, mock offended. “What do you take me for? A gigolo?!”
“No, not at all,” Callum said reassuringly. He used his other hand to stroke down Ben’s arm. “I just want you all to myself.”
“Hmm,” Ben looked at Callum suspiciously before his face softened. “I just want you all to myself too. Plus that navy shirt would look soo much better on the floor anyways.”
Callum snorted and rolled his eyes with a soft smile. This was the Ben he fell in love with and one of the many attributes that he loved. “And maybe if we do work up an appetite, we can always order a Chinese later on?”
Ben snapped his head round to look at Callum, pausing them both still in the street as he kissed him full on the lips, “Look at you, you already know me so well.”
Ben and Callum smiled brightly at each other as they continued the very short walk back to the funeral parlour, nothing but smiles, laughter and kisses along the way.
The four months, two weeks and five days was totally worth it.
34 notes · View notes
the-redamancist · 7 years ago
Text
enemies to lovers!kim yongguk
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genre: fluff
word count: 1.6k
as an avid animal lover, kim yongguk’s biggest dream had always been to have a pet he could call his own
so ever since he was presented with a tiny kitten two christmases earlier by his parents, he had been the happiest man
it went without saying that lucy soon became the centre of yongguk’s world, and he has never been ashamed to admit that his cat stood proudly at the top of the kim family hierarchy
as one that loved spoiling his pet, he would frequent the local mart, buying a few packets of the most expensive snacks offered every week
yongguk’s friends are constantly flabbergasted at the sheer amount of money that he spends on his cat alone, but hey, if it meant that lucy can bask in luxury, then his coffees can wait
you enter the picture a few weeks before christmas in the form of a homeless cat shelter worker, desperate to find a home for the remaining 24 cats under your care
however, as christmas neared, the number of furred friends in the shelter seemed to not decrease by one bit, and you spent your days sitting in the play area surrounded by them, worrying about their not-so-bright futures
you would very willingly adopt all of them into your own home, but since you already spent minimal time in your apartment, you knew that it was impossible for you to be a good companion for the cats
which is why you decided on a whim, that if you couldn’t give them a home for christmas, you’ll present (haha get it bc christmas presents) them with the next best thing: buy them as many snacks that you could afford for the last two weeks of december
a messily scribbled plan later showed that it would be impossible to bulk order from suppliers, since they would all be on christmas break by then 
which is why on the 15th of december, you walked out of the local mart carrying an entire box of cat treats at 6 o’clock sharp, your wallet sadly deflated in your back pocket
to say that yongguk was shocked to find the entire shelf of expensive cat treats empty later that morning is an understatement
to his knowledge, the snacks that he buys for lucy are always in stock, since most customers prefer cheaper alternatives
slightly thrown off, he could do nothing but return home emptyhanded, feeling guiltier towards his cat than he should’ve been
needless to say, lucy was not pleased at the piece of spam offered her in consolation at the lack of gourmet organic chicken bites, and didn’t bat an eye at yongguk for the rest of the day
walking into the mart the next morning, yongguk was determined to get his cat her chicken bites, but yet again, found the entire shelf devoid of anything
he tried his best to ignore the bitter glare lucy sent him as soon as she spotted his empty hands, mentally promising her that tomorrow, he was going to get her the damn bites if it meant sacrificing his life
empty
empty
empty
lucy has been denied her treats for five days straight, and yongguk has been denied affection from his cat for five days straight
he was growing insistently restless, tired of facing rejection as lucy stalked away from his open arms again and again
a quick ask around the mart told him that every morning, a woman comes in at the crack of dawn to purchase nothing but a huge pile of cat treats, and that was when yongguk decided that enough was enough
waking up at the earliest time he has ever woken up the next day, yongguk speed walks to the mart, only to find you already at the cat treat shelf, piling the last packets of lucy’s chicken bites into your basket
walking up to you, he takes a deep breath before asking you quietly if you could spare him a packet for his cat to eat before she eats him, thinking that you would most likely be kind enough to offer him at least one bag
which explains the blatant surprise on his face when you apologised, breathing out a ‘i need all of this today’ before briskly walking off towards the cashier, hoping to get to your cats as soon as possible
leaving yongguk frozen for a few minutes in the middle of the cat food aisle, mind blank at the blunt nature of your words
that night, he stares a disinterested lucy in the face, eyes set in determination as he promises that she’s going to get her treats tomorrow, no matter what
you walk into the mart the next morning, mentally prepared to spend another couple dozen dollars on cat food
however, nothing would’ve prepared you for the emptiness that was the cat treat shelf, the colourful packets replaced with nothing but what appeared to be a small piece of paper
picking it up, your eyes immediately narrowed at the familiar message scrawled onto the page in lazy handwriting
‘sorry. i need all of this today.’
ten minutes away in yongguk’s apartment, whilst lucy was enjoying an entire package of her beloved chicken bites, her owner was staring at his now-empty wallet in disdain, the only bit of satisfaction stemming from the fact that he had actually beat you to the snacks
ever since that silent declaration of war, both you and yongguk’s mornings have been absolute chaos
you would both rush to wake up in the morning, with you sometimes not even bothering to smooth out your hair before heading out the door, and with yongguk surprising lucy at the speed he’s been moving throughout the house 
it would, on most occasions, result in you arriving at the mart first, and even though yongguk always looks somewhat disgruntled whenever he sees you standing at the cashier before him with a triumphant grin, he’s began to secretly thank you, because his wallet has suffered more in those few bulk purchases than it has in his entire life
however, curiosity eventually started to build up in yongguk’s system, and by the end of another week, he was lowkey dying to find out what you did with all those packets of treats
which led to him trailing after you out the mart after another success on your side, taking care to keep his distance so that you didn’t notice him
as you weaved through the streets, yongguk started to go through the possible scenarios he would face a few minutes later
were you perhaps just an attractive cat lady with 30 cats, and they didn’t eat anything other than treats?
did you plan on reselling the treats at a higher price for profit?
oh, for the love of god, he really hoped that you weren’t one of those people who were obssessed with cat food and treated them like meatballs
however, all of his thoughts were proved wrong when he looked up at the small building you entered, eyes widening at the brightly coloured sign that read ‘the lost cats’ home’ hanging above the doorway
walking up to the entrance, taking in the small setup of your workplace before his eyes landed on your kneeling figure, a bright smile on your face as you opened up packets of the treats to feed the mass of cats that surrounded you, purring appreciatively
and for once in his life, yongguk’s eyes were not settled on the furry creatures, but on your face, softer than usual as you cooed at your small companions 
thinking back, purchasing that amount of cat food everyday must’ve cost you quite a lot, and to think that you were willing to sacrifice so much of your money for something that wasn’t even part of your job,,,
it was,,,,attractive, to say the least
you were selfless, you were undeniably cute, and you loved cats?
what a fucking match
yongguk was only broken out of his reverie when you turned around, eyebrows raised when you spotted the last person you would have expected
‘what are you doing here?’ you asked, standing up to face him, ‘looking to adopt a cat?’
feeling more flustered than he has ever felt in his entire life, yongguk’s gaze fell from your face to the creatures that surrounded your feet, asking to be petted by nudging their heads against your ankles
‘shouldn’t you be on christmas break already?’ he asked back instead, despite somewhat having an idea of what your reason would be
he did not, however, foresee how down you became at his question, squatting down to scratch the head of a particular black cat with striking blue eyes
‘i can’t just leave them there,’ you replied after a sigh, ‘my coworkers are willing to feed them, but i didn’t want them to be left alone for christmas, which is why i’m spending it with them.’
yongguk found the frown on your face a little too hard to look at, seeing as you were willing to basically give your life for the felines
feeling an overwhelming need to somehow make you smile again, his mouth opened on its own accord, and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind
‘i-i’ll adopt one.’ 
and for him, seeing the light return to your eyes at his statement was worth every dollar that he spent later that day on pet registration
walking back home with a cardboard box in his hands, yongguk was still left in some sort of daze, his mind thinking back to the bright smile on your face as you waved him off from the shelter
and now, with a new pet in hand, your number scribbled onto a piece of paper in his back pocket and maybe a date scheduled for next tuesday, yongguk was the happiest man in the world
‘everything would turn out alright, won’t it, tolbi?’
‘,,,meow’
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razieltwelve · 7 years ago
Text
Handwriting
I have always been enamoured with beautiful handwriting. There is something distinctly old-fashioned yet appealing about a handwritten letter, as opposed to something more contemporary, like an email or text message.
I want to believe that the very formation of the letters in each word gives some clue as to the mindset of the writer. Harsh words written in a harsh hand are far more striking than harsh words neatly typed in Courier or Times New Roman. Likewise, a sentimental expression of deepest affection in the inimitable hand of a loved one can linger for far longer in the heart than a similar message delivered in a well-known and utterly standardised font.
Alas, my handwriting is terrible. Yes, that’s right. It’s terrible. I’m not sure whether it is more accurate to describe it as resembling an archaic form of runes or as simple chicken scratch. Either description would be quite apt, much to my dismay. It is not, I assure you, due to laziness. Like many a dutiful primary (elementary) school student, I studiously worked my way through those handwriting books the teachers claimed would endow me with the awesome power of neat handwriting. I got through all of the books, slavishly following each and every instruction, only to emerge with awful handwriting all the same. It is a remarkable testament to my consistency, albeit the wrong kind of consistency.
Apparently, one of my super powers is the ability to complete all of the exercises and not actually get any better. My bad handwriting is therefore impressive in the same way that drug-resistant bacteria is impressive: you can’t help but admire how hard it is to kill, even as you look for a new way to kill it.
As an aside, my handwriting is almost identical to my brother’s. Indeed, if you were to show our handwriting to someone who did not know us well, they could be forgiven for thinking that the same person had written both. In a more exasperating vein, my twin has stellar handwriting that very much puts mine to shame. Perhaps she somehow stole all my handwriting powers in utero.
This is probably why I do not write a lot of things by hand. I can decipher the cryptograms with ease, but many other readers cannot. For example, if I were to write someone a note pledging them my affection, they would probably respond by wondering if I had given them some sort of puzzle to complete, possible a code of some kind written in a heretofore unknown variant of hieroglyphics. It would not, I imagine, make for the most moving love letter.
It is also ironic that my writing has only made my handwriting worse. That is to say, my extensive use of a computer to write my stories, as opposed to handwriting the drafts as some authors prefer to do, has reduced even further the amour of actual handwriting I do. My already less than stellar handwriting now has the added benefit of lack of practice to help it reach its full potential.
Oh well.
Recently, one of the family friends that I am tutoring apologised for his messy handwriting. Had his tutor been someone else, he might have had a point. Instead, I simply smiled and pointed out that the correction’s I’d written on his essay were hardly any neater. Birds of a feather, I suppose.
Nevertheless, I continue to admire people with excellent handwriting. In the same way that man once envied the bird’s ability to fly, so too do I envy their ability to turn handwriting into an art form. However, unlike mankind eventually learning how to fly, I doubt I’ll ever get my handwriting to be anything but serviceable.
If you want to read more about my thoughts on writing, education, and other subjects, you can find those here.
I also write original fiction, which you can find here.
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