#but there's so little info that explains shit in simple detail like i need a fucking tutor in this shit but i guess i'm the only one

[thingswhatareawesome]

¨

[just-jordie-things]

you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 13k warnings: light swearing.  reader has a cursed technique that has to do with healing but i don’t explain it bc i’m lazy. summary: the path from friends to lovers may take time but it is a simple, true love they share more info: ultimate friends to lovers fic this IS the template a/n: loosely based on this fanart i found on pinterest and also the song always forever by cults bcuz i love that song its so friends to lovers coded ___

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Unlike most cases of friends who harbor crushes for each other but never seemed to figure it out, (y/n) had taken a liking to Yuuta the day they met.  She’d known right away that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet, something adorably mysterious, strangely alluring, and completely thrilling.

Seeing him on campus wasn’t a surprise.  Gojo had told her about his recruitment, and upon giving her further detail she’d lovingly told him it was more of a kidnapping.  He’d laughed.  And since then nothing had really changed.  She continued her studies with Shoko in the infirmary, only occasionally seeing the Six Eyes when he needed a new audience to bother, and in fact, she’d almost forgotten the news of a new student her age.

It’s not like there were many instances where she could be reminded.  She didn’t see the other students at Jujutsu Tech often, since they spent their time training to be sorcerers, while her cursed technique was more equipped for the behind the scenes of jujutsu society.  

So when she feels a heavy presence of cursed energy looming through the front gates, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she’s unusually drawn out of her studies to scan the area for the source of the prickle traveling down her spine.

If she didn’t know better, she might have just assumed it was just Gojo.  But it only takes a split second for her to identify this as someone else entirely.  She’s not sure if her shiver is due to fear or intrigue, but either way she just has to learn more, doesn’t she? 

And so you could imagine her surprise when she finally catches the sight of the sorcerer carrying all of this cursed energy, dragging along the main path on his way to the main building.  She can’t recall his name right away, but she assumes he’s the new kid that Gojo had told her about a week or so prior.

She’s far enough away that she doesn’t get a good look at him, but she can see enough from where she sits amongst the trees.  He’s not at all what she had been expecting.

He didn’t look like the piece of shit egotistical douchebag that she had assumed he’d be when Gojo had told her about him.

And if she couldn’t feel the cursed energy radiating off of him even from this far away, she might’ve thought he was a non-sorcerer altogether.

His shoulders sagged like gravity was heavier on him than most people.  He moved slowly.  His sneakers scraped along the pavement.  His hands were fiddling with each other anxiously, fingers catching and pulling and twisting over and over.

Perhaps she was letting her curiosity make her naive, but any fear she might have felt when he first entered the courtyard dissipated as she tracked his awkward movements towards the school.  Awkward.  It was the perfect way to describe her first impression of him.

He hadn’t seemed to notice her during her assessment of him.  And this was proven when their paths did properly cross.

It had happened late one evening, shortly after Yuuta’s initial admittance to Jujutsu Tech.  It only took one text from Shoko for her to be out of bed, in her uniform, and on her way to the infirmary.  Apparently, Yuuta was also racing around campus, for whatever reason, and that’s how he (almost literally) ran into her.

“Oh!” 

His greeting was just as awkward as her first impression of him.  She can’t help but laugh a little bit.  He’s clearly flustered, his eyes wide and his mouth not making any proper words, and the large knife in his hand looks severely out of place.

But he must see her look straight at it while he’s trying to figure out how to politely ask who the hell she was because he’s never seen her before- because suddenly he remembers how to speak.

“This isn’t mine!” 

He doesn’t mean to shriek, but he feels like he should explain why he’s running around at night with a knife.  It doesn’t dawn on him at all that she’s used to people casually carrying weapons around, and this little knife isn’t even close to being a concern for her.

Nonetheless, she goes along with it.  She should be rushing to the infirmary, but something keeps her put before him.

“Oh?” She tries not to laugh as she takes in his heavy wince.  “While I find your courage outstanding, I’m not sure this is the place you want to go stealing people’s knives,” She’s only teasing, but it does nothing to relieve the panic on his face.  “You know, cause people around here don’t need knives to kill you,” 

Yuuta swallows, and (y/n) finally gives him a break and shakes her head as she laughs to herself.

He expresses his anxiousness in small shuffles of his feet, and he tries to laugh along but the sound is strained and nervous.  If she knew him better and understood him, she likes to think she’d tell him to lighten up, but that feels like a bold step, so she tries to ease his anxiety with more subtlety.

“You didn’t spook me with that knife,” She clarifies.  “I’d be more scared of all that cursed energy you’ve got, if anything” 

“O-oh” 

“But I’m not,” She tells him, matter-of-factly.

He gives her a look like he’s not sure if he should believe her.  With the way the other students had reacted when they first met, he’s surprised she doesn’t have him in a chokehold right now.  Instead, she stands before him without a defensive stance, and she gives him a small smile.

“But… what are you doing out this late?” She can’t help but have curiosity about what he was doing there in the first place.  “Aren’t you all going out on an assignment first thing in the morning?”

Normally, she didn’t listen much when Gojo rambled on about his teachings.  However yesterday’s lessons with Shoko had been few and far between, so when her old friend stopped by for entertainment, she boredly listened along while he bragged about taking his class on a group outing.  She supposed that little piece of information became useful for small talk now.

“Yeah, well,” Yuuta sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.  “I was supposed to return this earlier, but I forgot, and now I…” 

His words trail off, along with his eyes as he turns to stare at the floor out of embarrassment.

“I got lost” 

“It’s Maki’s, isn’t it?” She asks knowingly, even though she’s not familiar with this knife.

Yuuta nods.

“I’ll show you the way” She says, gesturing for him to follow her, and walking off before he could really comprehend what she was offering.  His sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor as he rushes after her a few seconds delayed.

He takes a minute or two before he finds the courage to say something.

“Thank you,” He settles, peeking over at her from the corner of his eye.  “I’m Yuuta, by the way” 

She turns to give him a beam as she replies, “I know,”

It has a lump forming in his throat, his chest filling with something warm and akin to bashfulness.  He’d never seen her before, and he was certain he would have remembered if they’d met, especially since she was so pretty, but she appeared to be his age too, and he wondered why she hadn’t been around for any classes, or training sessions.

“I’m (y/n)” She introduces herself after a beat passes.  Yuuta wants to say something more, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

He fidgets with the knife as he follows her through the corridors.  It’s a large building, and the longer they walk, the more he’s grateful he hadn’t gotten more lost than he had.  It takes a few minutes until she finally stops at a door, and slides it open.  Yuuta recognized it as soon as it’s contents were revealed.

Every inch of the walls were filled with weapons.  Racks with blades and staffs of all shapes and sizes, shelves of an assortment of more alternative weapons, he’d been in here when Gojo had given him a speedy tour on his first day.  Although now that he’s not being rushed from room to room, his gaze travels around the small space, taking in every deadly tool here.

“You’ll get used to it” (y/n) speaks, and he’s drawn out of his reverie when she plucks the knife from his hands to put it back in it’s proper place.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any of this” He mumbles back, eyes caught on a rather daunting gun propped up among other things.

Nunchucks and knives were one thing.  He was pretty sure that was an AK-47.  He’d only ever seen those in movies.

(y/n) chuckles softly, amused by how out of place he seemed.  For a guy with more cursed energy than he knew what to do with, she found it interesting how juvenile he came across.

Not that it was a bad thing.  It was sort of… refreshing, if she thought about it.

“You will,” She assured him kindly.  “It’ll feel weird for a while, but, yaknow.  Eventually everyone settles in, right?” 

He tears his eyes away from the machine gun to see that she’s giving him a small smile, and he doesn’t know her very well, or at all, but he can tell that she’s being genuine.

“I guess”

He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I have to get going to a lesson,” She explains, jerking her thumb back towards the door.  “You good to get back to your dorm? I probably wouldn’t get in trouble if I explained I was just helping the new kid” 

Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.

“Yeah, I’m good, I think” He doesn’t sound so sure, but (y/n) assumes the best way for him to learn his way around is to get lost just a little.

“Alright, I’ll see ya around then,” She gives him a wave as she ducks out of the small armory.  “Good luck with your assignment tomorrow!”

Her voice carries as she jogs through the corridors to quickly get to where Shoko was waiting, leaving Yuuta to linger, a bit dumbfounded and bewildered by the whole interaction.

He supposed he’d gotten her name, but he still had no clue who she was.  He’d have to make a better effort to reach out next time their paths crossed.  She was the first person here to give him a semi-warm welcome, after all.

When (y/n) arrived at the infirmary with a brighter-than-usual smile and the remnants of a blush on her cheeks, Shoko eyed her curiously, but didn’t outwardly call her out on the strange demeanor.

[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]

The next time Yuuta does see (y/n), he’s sitting alone at a picnic table in the courtyard with only the company of his lunch bag.  He sees her walking out of the building with a bag on her shoulder.  She’s clearly on a mission, but he finds himself calling out to her and waving his hand anyways.

He assumes she’ll give him a polite nod and keep heading on her way, but she stops in her tracks to turn his way, waving back, before she’s actually walking over to him.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but Yuuta panics a bit.  He had yet to form any solid enough friendships with the other students in his year, hence the lunching alone out here, and he had a worry that soon she would also see him as a loner and an outsider, and she’d avoid him too.

But as she approaches the wooden table, she gives him a smile so friendly he could never believe it was forced.

“Hey,” Even her voice sounds kind.  “You eating alone?” 

“Uh-” Yuuta glances around as if looking for an excuse, but the bento box in front of him and lack of any other person around is evidence enough.  “Yeah” He replies sheepishly.

Here it comes, Yuuta braces himself, the beginning of her thinking he’s a loner.  He shouldn’t have even held onto that scrap of hope when she’d walked this way, but here he was, holding his breath.

“Want company?”

His head turns back to her, assessing if she really meant it, and seeing that small smile still curled on her lips, he gives her a short nod.

“Yeah,” He answers.  “Yeah, that’d be… nice” 

Her small smile turns into a grin as she sits on the bench across from him, setting her bag on the table.

“How are you settling in?” She asks him kindly, and he gives a weak shrug of his shoulders.

“I guess… as well as I can,” He says honestly, and she nods back in understanding.  He pushes past the urge to sit in silence where he knows he can’t say the wrong thing, and continue talking to her.  She’s nice, he tells himself.  She’s nice, and I want to make friends here.  I want to be happy here.  “I think everyone’s a little afraid of me, to be honest,” He admits.  “Or they’re annoyed with how behind all of them that I am” 

“Maki can be a little stand-offish,” (y/n) thinks aloud.  “And Inumaki is hard to get to know at first.  But he’s a really nice guy once you do get to know him.  Just don’t be nervous when he’s silent.  He’s a goofball,” 

Yuuta takes her advice to heart, hoping that she could give him all the keys to friendship he’d been lacking.  He nods earnestly.

“And so is Panda,” She continued.  “But it’s been awhile since there’s been someone new around here.  That doesn’t really happen for us” 

“Really?” He asks, and she nods.

“Yeah.  Most of these people have known each other since they were young.  Or at least are aware of each other’s clan politics” 

“I see” Yuuta mumbles, feeling yet again like an outsider.  (y/n) can tell this information doesn’t sit well with him.

“I think it’s nice,” She says boldly, and truthfully.  He stares at her like she just said something ridiculous.  “When the only people you get to see every day are people you’ve known your whole life, it can be sorta lonely,” She admits with a small chuckle.  “It’ll be nice to get to know someone new,” 

She leans over the table a bit, setting her elbows down so she can rest her head in her hands.

“If that’s not too forward” She says with a bashful smile.

Yuuta blinks once, twice, before shaking his head with certainty.

“It’s not” He says, fast.

“Good,” (y/n’s) beam brightens.  “Want to have lunch with me again tomorrow?” 

He nods again, his nerves starting to melt away, letting him smile back at her.

“Will you be in class tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.  Maybe now he’ll finally have someone he can sit with, even if he’s still too shy to strike up a conversation, at least he won’t feel so alone all the time.

“Oh,” (y/n’s) lips quickly fall to a frown.  “I’m actually not one of Gojo’s students,” She tells him, and it makes her sad to see him deflate so fast.  “I’m training in the infirmary, with Shoko.  Have you met her?” 

Yuuta shakes his head.

“I don’t think so” 

“Well I’ll introduce you sometime,” She tells him.  “But I don’t have a decent enough cursed technique to be a sorcerer, so I’m studying under her in order to go more into the… background things” She explains.

“I see,” Yuuta tries not to let his disappointment show, so as not to make her feel bad.  He focuses instead on getting to know her better.  “So you’re working in, like, the medical field then?”

(y/n) nods her head from side to side.

“Something like that,” She chuckles.  “It’s mostly watching Shoko use her technique to heal injuries after rougher assignments.  I don’t get to use mine too much, but I’m starting to learn how to heal myself, so that’s a start, I suppose” 

“That’s cool!” 

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.

“You can heal yourself?”

“I mean, I healed a papercut once” She laughs bashfully.  In comparison to Shoko’s reverse cursed technique, doing a shoddy job at patching up a small slice on her finger seemed like a joke.  But Yuuta grins like he’s never heard anything more interesting.

“You’re lucky,” He tells her, and she raises a brow at him, wondering if this was all some elaborate prank where he’d wind up laughing in her face at how weak she was compared to everyone else, compared to him.  “That’s a really useful ability.  That’s not background at all.  It’s helpful” 

As she processes the kind words, (y/n) wonders if this is why she’d felt drawn to him when they met a few nights ago.  Underneath the shy exterior Yuuta displayed was nothing but kindness, and warmth.  She could feel it in her cheeks, and in her chest.  Her heart even stuttered a little.

“I mean, I barely have a handle on it,” She admits.  “I don’t think I’ve been all that helpful to anyone” 

“But you’re learning, right?” Yuuta shrugs a shoulder in understanding.  “I guess that’s sorta how I feel, too,” He realized, dropping his gaze to his forgotten lunch as he thought about it.  “I just want to be…”

He trails off, but (y/n) waits with eager anticipation for him to continue his thought.

“Useful”

His voice is quiet, and his expression is unsure as he looks back up at her.  Suddenly feeling like that was far too pathetic of a thing to say to someone that he’d like to become friends with.  But before he can backtrack and supply a better word, like strong or courageous, she’s grinning.

Her face nearly splits in two as her beam stretches from ear to ear, all teeth and twinkling eyes to match.  A small laugh escapes her before she starts to nod passionately.

“That’s exactly how it feels,” She agrees, filling him with relief so strong it’s visible in the way his shoulders relax.  (y/n) notices, but doesn’t say anything.  Something warm and fuzzy nestles in her chest, and she has a good feeling about this new friendship blossoming.

Truth was, (y/n) got along fine with the other students here, but they’d only cross paths on occasion and she couldn’t say that she was necessarily close to any of them, simply on good terms enough to catch up in brief passing with one another.  The disconnect between her studies and the rest of the sorcerers-in-training around here was a trench of a gap, and if she was honest with herself, it could prove to be a little lonely.

Shoko was a great teacher, she was kind and involved, but she was still a teacher.  Gojo was… about the same, with just a bit more peskiness to him when it came to involving himself.  But it was all in good nature, he knew that she was a bit isolated here.

But then Yuuta came along.  And even just this short interaction had her glowing with excitement at finally forming a connection with someone.  He probably thought she was just being pleasant since he was the new kid and he’d been eating lunch alone, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.  She had a genuine interest in him that had started innocently enough, but she had a feeling it would only blossom into something more.

“I think that we’re going to be-” 

She’s about to voice this thought, about to tell him that she knows in her heart that they’ll make excellent friends, but her timing was just a tad too slow, and she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

With the intention of silencing it and ignoring the call for now, she gives him an apologetic look before pulling it out of her pocket, only to huff when she realizes it’s not a call she can just silence.

“Sorry,” She frowns.  “It’s Shoko, I should take this, she’s probably got something for me back at the lab” 

“It’s alright,” Yuuta smiles as he shakes his head in understanding.  “I get it” 

“Thanks,” (y/n) grabs her bag as she jumps up from the table, disappointed to cut their time short, but excited to see what Shoko would have in store for her today.  Before she can race off, she pauses, one hand gripping the strap of her bag and the other occupied with the phone that’s still ringing.  “Lunch tomorrow though, right?” She double checks.

The pink that dusts Yuuta’s cheeks is undeniable, and it makes a smile bloom on her face, too.

“Right” He says with a shy nod while he rubs his clammy hands over his knees.

“Alright,” (y/n) nods back, and she’d like to think she’s smooth, but she’s blushing just the same.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Okkotsu” 

She takes off before she can see his face turn from pink to red, his enthusiasm for having plans with a friend- a cute friend- shining in the heat of his cheeks.  

He spends the rest of his lunch period trying to think of things to talk to her about tomorrow, questions to ask, stories to share.  He racked his brain for fifteen minutes before going to class, where he then gets a little lost in space as he wonders about it some more.

[ you know you got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around ]

When (y/n) feels that lingering fuzziness in her chest turn into something more, it was shortly after she’d spent the better half of an hour telling Shoko that her friendship with Okkotsu Yuuta was just that.  Friendship.

“If you say so,” The woman shrugged a shoulder as she pulled the gloves off of her hands, getting ready to wrap up the day.  “Just sayin’.  You talk about him a lot” 

(y/n) gave her a look, blindly tossing her own latex gloves into the trash.

“He’s my friend, I like talking about him,” She explains with nonchalance, even though her heart stuttered in her chest a little bit, as it did every time she mentioned him.  “And I’m also a boring person.  There’s not much to talk about”

“That’s not true, but whatever” Shoko brushes off the lame excuse, and (y/n) rejoices inwardly that the topic can be dropped before Yuuta actually shows up in a few minutes.  

Like most days, they had plans to meet up for lunch, except today they’ll be spending it with the rest of the first years.  After a couple of months, Yuuta finally felt like he belonged here, and had made decent friendships with his peers.  This morning he had texted her to ask if it was alright if they joined them.

[yuuta] : panda offered us seats at the lunch table with inumaki and maki too. do you want to have lunch with them? 

[yuuta] : ok if not!! just wanted to extend the invitation !!

It had made (y/n) smile when that second text popped up so quickly on her phone after she’d opened the first right away.  She could practically see him back pedaling just in case she wasn’t comfortable with a larger group for lunch.  Of course she was, she’d typed back an agreement with a little smiley face within a few seconds of reading the texts, but it was sweet that he’d stick to their usual plan of just the two of them.

Don’t get her wrong, (y/n) had grown to really cherish the time the two of them spent together.  She got to know Yuuta very well during their lunch breaks, and during a few hangouts after lessons and training, too.  She was happy to see how much he opened up once you got to know him, and she loved learning more about him every day.  He was kind, and funny in that nervous sort of way, and he picked up on things quickly.  

The couple of times (y/n) had spent her breaks from the infirmary on the bleachers to watch him train with the other first years, she’d seen a drastic change in his abilities with each session.  It wasn’t often that she was able to slip away long enough to get all the way to the bleachers, watch for a bit while having a snack or catching up on some reading, and then get back to the infirmary before Shoko called her out on trying to ditch her lessons.  Still, she was always impressed with how fast of a learner Yuuta was.  Whether it was with cursed energy or with a bamboo staff to practice wielding a proper katana, he seemed to be comfortable with learning how to fight.

In fact the last time she’d watched him, he looked so natural she could have assumed he’d grown up in jujutsu society just like the rest of them.

When he does make an appearance at the infirmary, Shoko notices him outside the door first.  With a smirk, she nods her head to get (y/n’s) attention.

“Your friend is here,” She says with a teasing lilt in her voice, despite her face remaining as stoic as usual.  

(y/n) gives her a look before turning around to see him waiting politely outside.  When their eyes catch, she gives him a smile and waves at him to come in.

“Picking you up for lunch, hm?” Shoko hums.  “What a little gentleman”

(y/n) shoots her another look, this time as if to say be nice when Yuuta walks in.  He’s still wearing his sheath, but the awkward smile and nervous fiddling of his hands makes a sword on his back look out of place.  For some reason, (y/n) has always found his simple juxtapositions adorable.

Despite having met Shoko before, a few times, actually, Yuuta always gets anxious around her.  It was probably her quietly peculiar aura, something (y/n) had grown used to after so much time spent with her, but in comparison to Yuuta’s teacher who’d never learned to revel in peaceful silence, it could be intimidating.

He gave her a small wave and nod in greeting.  Shoko smirked back at him before turning to (y/n).

“You two get back before too long, alright? No funny business” 

Yuuta visibly paled, his mouth opening to make an explanation that wasn’t coming to mind and left him standing there gaping.  (y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, hoisting the strap over her shoulder as she waved Shoko off.

“Bye Shoko” She said with a half-playful glare, before grabbing Yuuta by the sleeve and dragging him right back out the door before he even got the chance to say hello.

It’s not until they’re out in the hall that he finds his voice.

He tugs at his collar to relieve some of the heat from his neck.

“How were lessons today?” He settles for the safe topic of conversation.  Predictably, (y/n) lets out a small laugh.  She always seemed amused when he was uncomfortable.  He had yet to understand why.

“Good,” She’s kind to him today, not teasing him for his flustering.  At least not beyond that little smirk that makes her eyes glint when she looks at him.  “You?”

He nods his head from side to side.

“Maki kicked my ass,” He said sheepishly.  “But I did get a hit today” He said in a quieter voice, but there was still a hint of pride in his voice.  (y/n) beamed at him.  She understood this was a meaningful accomplishment.

“That’s awesome!” She cheered for him.  “You’ll knock her down next time for sure,” 

He thinks she could be messing with him, but when he looks over at her, her beam is nothing but genuine.  He laughs quietly, not as sure as she was, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.

“Just make sure to invite me next time you spar,” (y/n) continues.  “I want to be there for the big day” 

Sometimes, she has a way of speaking that makes Yuuta wonder why she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but him.  She wasn’t exactly a soft person, he supposed it was this line of work they shared, but there was something inherently friendly about her.  He’d noticed it the first time they’d met, of course, and ever since he couldn’t ignore it if he tried.  For whatever reason, she seemed not only to care about him, but she actually believed in him, too.  More and more, Yuuta began to wonder why.

Inumaki, Panda, and Maki are already at a table with their lunches before them when Yuuta and (y/n) arrive.  Panda notices them first, grinning and waving a paw for them to join.

“(y/n)! Long time no see!” His voice holds pure joy upon her arrival, “How’s the infirmary?” 

“Oh, you know,” (y/n) smiles as she shrugs her shoulders.  “Blood.  Bones.  Repeat.  I can’t complain” 

Panda and Toge are sitting on one side of the table, Maki on the other, and (y/n) happily sits beside her.  Yuuta follows shortly.

“Yuuta told me next time, he’s going to knock your ass out,” She says boldly.  Maki raises a brow, her chopsticks stilling over her dish.  “You’ll let me come watch, yeah?” 

Maki’s eyes shift to Yuuta, a glare behind them that has him straightening in his seat.  Maki smirks at his discomfort, and when she turns back to (y/n), she grins ear to ear.

“I do love an audience,” She agrees, her smirk stretching into a grin at the idea.  She looks back to Yuuta, who’s focused intently on his rice.  “You two have been gettin’ real chummy, huh?”

(y/n) simpered at the comment.  Yuuta tucked his chin against his collar in hopes that they wouldn’t notice the way his face bloomed with heat.

“Tuna, tuna” Inuamki giggles as his elbow bumps into Panda’s arm, and he too begins to chuckle as they watch the pair’s reactions to Maki’s simple observation.

“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-” 

“Yuuta’s a great friend” (y/n) speaks before Yuuta’s stammering can be laughed at any further.

“Must be, to make you finally come hang out with us” Panda says as he tries to quell his amused chuckling.

“Ikura” Toge mutters.

“Yeah,” Panda nods in agreement with the cursed speech user.  “We didn’t think you liked us anymore” 

Yuuta peeks over at (y/n) in his peripheral vision, but she plasters on a smile and shakes her head to disagree.

“Been busy” She says simply.  There is no follow up, no explanation or excuse.  She pops a grape into her mouth and leaves it at that.

Their lunch continues on as expected.  Catching up, teasing, swapping food.  Thirty minutes seem to pass faster than ever.  And despite enjoying himself amongst his friends, Yuuta can’t help but hyperfixate on that small, odd interaction.

It appeared as though (y/n) and the other first years had gotten along just fine.  Even mirroring old friends.  But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off, that things hadn’t always been this way, that there was a rift he hadn’t been present for.  He knows better than to question it straight away, so he matches energy and remains friendly the rest of the break.

But after telling his classmates he’ll meet up with them shortly, he lingers at the table while (y/n) packs up her things.

“That was nice” His voice feels stiff.  He clears his throat.

(y/n) looks up at him as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a soft smile curling on her lips.

“It was” She affirms.

Yuuta shifts his weight from foot to foot as he tries to find the right thing to say next.  (y/n) watches this, and waits, patiently, for him to continue.

“I mean I… I like having lunch just… us,” He says, slowly, afraid of sounding too forward and insinuating something that could be off putting to her.  “But I’m glad you wanted to hang out with…” 

He struggled to find the right thing to say.  (y/n) tilted her head at him curiously, before providing the words for him.

“Your friends?” She suggests with a small smile.

Yuuta blinks, color spreading over his cheeks before his smile mirrors hers, and then he nods.

“Yeah,” He concurred.  

It must have been a rush of courage that compelled him to say what he did next, because as soon as he said it out loud, blood rushed up his neck and into his cheeks.

“You’re a great friend, too, by the way.  I’m glad you were here.  Or, well, are here”

She laughs, not because what he was was funny, but because she was overcome by delight by his words that she simply couldn’t contain it.  Her fingers curl tightly around her bag, her heart flutters with something sickeningly sweet in her chest.

This was that something more.  This wasn’t just silly eagerness towards a new friend.  This much more.  It was heavy.  It filled her heart until it burst and flooded her body with warmth, traveling down her spine in ticklish sparks, and ending in the tips of her fingers and toes.  It almost felt like cursed energy, the way it buzzed through her excitedly, on it’s own accord, but she knew better.

This was infatuation.  She was infatuated with Yuuta.  She had feelings for Yuuta.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Yuuta,” She speaks with every genuine bone in her body, now reinforced with that tingling feeling that has her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “Really glad” She repeats softly.

He should feel embarrassed because he knows he’s blushing and he’s having a hard time holding eye contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all.  Instead he smiles, bright and beautiful.

“I- I have to-” 

“You have class,” (y/n) laughs bashfully, turning away in an attempt to calm her warm cheeks and dopey grin.  “You should go before you’re late- I- I should go before I’m late” She stammers over her words, which is unlike her and more like him.

“Right, yeah,” He nods in a jerky motion as he starts to turn to leave, realizing he was going to have to run now if he wanted to make it on time.  “But I’ll- I’ll see you after? Maybe? Or do you have plans already we can just wait till tomor-” 

“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.

“Okay- okay, yeah,” He’s still beaming, giddy with excitement now.  “After lessons” He repeats.

(y/n) giggles as she begins to make her way back towards the infirmary, in the opposite direction as him.  She gives him a small wave as she takes off, and Yuuta’s stunned in place for a moment before realizing that his tardiness was going to get him into trouble.

When (y/n) bursts through the infirmary doors with a string of excuses and pink cheeks, Shoko doesn’t say a word.  Not that she has to, her face says it all.

Yuuta is not spared in the same way.  When Gojo asks where he’s been, Panda is happy to supply what- or who- had kept him occupied.  He was teased relentlessly for the following fifteen minutes, but it didn’t bother him too much.  Sure, he was a little awkward at handling it and brushing off their assumptions.  He just hoped his classmates wouldn’t meddle and tell her about it later.

[ just come here and we can settle down ]

If Yuuta ever underestimated anything in his life, it was Gojo Satoru’s joy in meddling.

It’s a few weeks after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.  Jujutsu High is still under reconstruction, but it’s getting somewhere.  The gardens are being replanted, the courtyard isn’t just a pile of rubbish anymore, and slowly but surely, everyone is healing.

Especially thanks to (y/n), who had mastered her cursed technique.  Just in time too, as there were a lot of people that needed help.

Maki was finally recovering after pushing herself through physical therapy at a rate faster than (y/n) had ever seen in anyone before.  She was more amazed than surprised.  She would never underestimate that young woman’s abilities.

Toge was just starting to use his voice again, despite all of his friends telling him to just keep his mouth shut even if he was speaking in onigiri ingredients.  His sore throat still made his words sound choked and raspy, but he communicated with his friends nonetheless.

There were many other sorcerers that had gotten hurt that night, but just as her friends had, they were recovering, physically and mentally, from that horrible night.

Today the sun was shining.  It was still a chilly January day, but something about the clear skies drew (y/n) to linger on the steps of the main building.  She studied them beneath her boots.  Now that they were clear of snow, it looked as though a different color of stone was selected for their redesign.  Not too different, it was still a light brown, almost like sand, but different enough that the longer she stared at them, the more she could pick out the other differences between these and the old ones.  

“Ditching lessons?” 

Her eyes drag slowly away from the stone steps to see Gojo Satoru scaling them towards her.  His long legs had him next to her in a matter of seconds.  Truthfully, Shoko had said she needed a longer smoke break than usual today- which was only unusual because ever since christmas, she’d been taking longer smoke breaks, she’d only just mentioned it today.

“Not really.  Maybe” (y/n) replied indecisively.

“I’m still a teacher you know,” Gojo laughs at her honesty.  “I could get you in trouble~” 

The grin on his face tells her that there was absolutely no bite to his bark.  He just liked to pretend to be an adult sometimes.  (y/n) gives him a half hearted smile in amusement.  His grin weakens at the way hers drops as soon as she stares down at the stairs again.

He already knows what’s on her mind.  He was a better teacher than even he gave himself credit for.

“So he told you about Africa, huh?” 

Her head shoots back up, brows furrowed in a sad expression as she frowns at him.  

Yeah, he told me about Africa, she thinks, bitterly, even the thought making her mouth go sour.  She gnaws at the inside of her cheek roughly.

“I know you’re close.  I’m sorry that it’s happening,” Gojo sighs.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets.  “Kid’s got real potential.  He might even be stronger than me,” 

Just like his grin, his smirk speaks volumes.  (y/n’s) not sure if he really believes that, but she can tell he believes in Yuuta.

“Special Grade Sorcerers aren’t what they used to be, huh?” He asks, and she’s not sure if it’s rhetorical, so she just shrugs her shoulders, and directs her gaze downwards again.

Her throat burns.  Was that tears? 

“It won’t just be Africa,” Gojo says, slowly, like he’s trying to be careful.  She’s never known him to tread lightly.  He must really worry about her feelings.  She wonders why.  “Once he’s mastered his techniques, the geezers are gonna throw him at every curse they can sniff out” 

“I know” 

Her voice is small, but it holds enough certainty for Gojo to understand that she doesn’t need to be told what Yuuta’s future has in store.

“So,” Gojo takes a different tone as he kicks the toe of his shoe into a step.  “You’re not bothered that he’s a young widow, hm?” 

(y/n’s) face contorts into something strange and confused as she looks at him again.  She could almost laugh, if she wasn’t so disturbed by her teacher prying into her personal life.  She could tell him to buzz off, but it’d make no difference.  He’d probably just pester Shoko for the details and that would be even more embarrassing.

“I don’t even know what to-” 

“He cares about you a lot too,” Gojo says before she can finish.  (y/n’s) features relax as her eyes widen a little.  He looks out into the courtyard as if something interesting was happening over there.  “But Africa will be good for him.  And he’ll be back soon enough.  I’ll try ‘n pull some strings to have him visit, or something” 

Her impulse to say something snarky and get him to move on from the topic disappears.  Instead, she gives him a small nod, before tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat.

“That would be nice,” She tells him, quietly, but surely.  “Thank you” 

Gojo grins from ear to ear as he turns back to his.  She has a feeling that under the white bandages, he’s winking dramatically.

He leaves without another word, leaving (y/n) a little bewildered by the sudden exit.  But then she sees another figure ascending the steps, and suddenly the cold isn’t the only thing making her cheeks pink.

Yuuta gives her the same smile he always does when he crosses her path.  Whether in passing or when he’s meeting up with her to hang out, his lips curl into the warmest smile she’s ever seen.  Even as clouds creep across the sky and snow begins to fall, she starts to feel toasty in her hat and coat.

She lies and tells him she has a few minutes to spare even though she’s been gone from the infirmary for a good twenty minutes now.  As they take a short walk around campus, her mood lightens up.  

They don’t talk about Africa.  Only good things.  A funny meme she’d seen, how Toge will be by the infirmary later because he refuses to keep his mouth shut to heal properly.  Maybe that wasn’t so much of a good thing, but Yuuta is laughing as he tells her about the pile of bloodied tissues accumulated at Toge’s desk.  Despite the twinge of guilt for laughing at their friend’s discomfort, she can’t help it.  Yuuta’s happiness is infectious.

This must be what swooning feels like, she thinks as she stares up at him while he tells her about his day.  It’s a silly story, maybe even kind of boring, but she hangs onto every word with eager anticipation at what he would share next.  He could read her the goddamn newspaper and she’d sit there with her head in her hands and give him her undivided attention.  Yeah, this is probably swooning.

“When do you have to be back?” Yuuta cuts off his rambling about training when he realizes they’ve been walking for some time now.

“Oh,” (y/n) shrugs sheepishly.  “Probably ten minutes ago” 

His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, and before he even speaks she knows he’s about to apologize for taking up her time, so with a small laugh she shakes her head at him before he says a thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” She says, urging him to keep walking with her.  “Shoko needed some extra time today.  I don’t mind if I’m a little late” 

“You’re sure?” He double checks, because he doesn’t like being responsible for getting her behind schedule.  Nonetheless, he catches up to her as she keeps walking along the path.

Little does he know, if he asked her to ditch the rest of the day with him, she would take him by the hand and sprint off campus.

“Positive” (y/n) replies.

They continue to walk in the snow and talk about anything but Africa.  An unspoken agreement that it could wait.

[ oh darling, it’s alarming, to think of us apart ]

Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.

It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves. 

It’s early enough in the morning that it’s still dark.  Panda had helped him load his bags into Ijichi’s car, before giving him a quick goodbye so he could go back to bed.  Maki and Toge lingered a little longer, even in their pajamas.  But at some point Maki cursed about how early it was, gave her new friend a friendly- but not light- punch to the shoulder, and returned inside.

Toge and (y/n) were equally quiet, although for their different reasons.  Eventually Yuuta couldn’t fill the silence anymore, and they were out of time to stall.

To his surprise, Toge gave him a quick hug.  Just enough to give him a kind pat on the back and an eager ‘salmon!’ certainly wishing him luck on his big assignment.  Yuuta thanked him with a grin, proud to understand what he really meant.

Then he turned to (y/n), who’d barely moved an inch since sleepily walking out here.  He’d insisted to everyone last night that they could say their goodbyes then, but she’d stood her ground that she’d see him off today.  The others agreed.

Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself, and the smile on her face was sad when his eyes met hers.  Even when she tried to brighten up, to properly display her pride in him, she just couldn’t quite do it.

Toge watched as they stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them finding anything to say.  For a minute he thought it might be awkward, and he figured he should probably leave now.  

It only took Yuuta one step forward, his arms barely outstretched, before (y/n’s) finding the energy to leap towards him, crashing into him.  Her arms are thrown around his neck as she hugs him tightly.  As she tucks her chin against his shoulder she’s willing herself not to cry, because she knows it would make him feel bad, and that wouldn’t be fair.  Yuuta’s surprise has him hesitating for a second before he’s hugging her back, hoping to hold on just as securely as she’d latched onto him.

“Text a lot,” When she’s certain her voice won’t crack, (y/n) finally speaks.  “And call, too” 

Yuuta chuckles.  His eyes close as he rests his cheek against her head.  She’s never hugged him before, but he’s decided from this one that she’s the best hugger in the world.

“The time difference is-” 

“I don’t care” She mutters, and it’s punctuated with her arms squeezing around him a little tighter.

He returns the affection.

“Okay” He murmurs.

When they have to part, she lets out a shaky breath, and plasters on the widest smile she can.  She hopes he can see the tears in her eyes.  He does.

He gives her and Toge a wave before finally opening the door to the backseat.  He doesn’t say goodbye.  Instead he settles for, “See you later” 

(y/n) manages a little wave back.  It’s not until the car pulls away and is out of sight before a tear falls.  She’s quick to wipe it away.

Her and the cursed speech user walk back towards the main building together.  He gives her a sympathetic look.  She gives him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I know,” She sighs, drying her eyes once more and taking a deep breath in the hopes of not crying again.

He smiles back, but unlike hers, it’s bright, and cheeky.  He draws a heart in the air with his fingers.  She wants to roll her eyes, but she lets out a watery laugh at the action, and she knows her face is heating up with evidence of the truth.

“Something like that” She mumbles.  They don’t say anything else before parting ways to go back to their rooms.

By the time she collapses back in bed, she’s too awake to think about sleeping a little longer before her lesson with Shoko.  Pulling out her phone for a source of entertainment, she finds she already has a notification at this ungodly hour.

[yuuta] : try not to miss me too much :) i’ll be back before you know it

Tucking the blankets up to her chin, (y/n) settles into bed with a small smile.  Yuuta wasn’t often cheeky.  And when he was, it was always followed by a nervous laugh and bright pink cheeks.  Behind the shield of his phone he clearly has a leap in confidence.  She even laughs a little as she types back her response.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.

On the one hand, he was ecstatic.  He had finally climbed the ranks in this new life that he thinks could make everything make sense.  He felt a new sense of responsibility along with his new sense of self, and he knows that this debut of his in Africa was the next big step forwards.  He’d prove himself, he’d push himself, and he’d come home stronger than before.  He’d make his friends, and his teachers, proud of taking a chance on him.

On the other hand, his new purpose, this new sense of self that he was still discovering, felt so much more worth exploring when she was there too.  Yuuta wasn’t as naive as some may make him out to be.  He knew what love felt like.  He recognized that the ticklish feeling in his chest when she laughed, he was familiar with the buzz in his fingertips when she walked too close and her hand brushed over his.  He knows when he’s lying awake at night and she’s the one who crosses his mind that it’s no coincidence.

Yuuta knows that his heart holds much more than platonic regards for one (y/n) (y/l/n).  He knows that he adores her.  He knows that his heart longs for her in a way that couldn’t possibly be platonic.  The fact that they’ll have to be apart for some time makes him sad.  It makes him lonely.

Even now, after seeing her twenty minutes ago when they said their goodbyes, he already missed her.  He couldn’t help but text her right away, the desperation for keeping in contact pumping through him like ice, making him feel wide awake even at five in the morning.  The thought of losing touch over the next few months of him being away makes him sweat.  

He’d have to make sure to keep in touch, he makes a mental plan to always text her first thing in the morning, and last thing before he goes to sleep.  That way, even if he got busy throughout his day, he’d always have the time for her.  He wanted her to know that he’d always make the time for her.

Yuuta’s heart is racing, the adrenaline a toxic mix of excitement and anxiety.  Had he eaten a proper meal this morning he might’ve thrown up.

Just as he’s contemplating rolling down the window for some fresh air, his phone pings.

[(y/n/n)]: i take it you miss me already, yuuta?

It’s a silly little emoji, but he swears she’s sent him her heart in digital form and it leaps right from the screen and into his open palms.  He's smiling at the screen and responding with a reaction image he’d snagged from Toge just a few days ago.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Gojo follows through on his promise.  Yuuta comes back to Jujutsu Tech for a small break after two months in Africa.

He gets to campus earlier than expected, surprising his classmates in the middle of a lesson.  Luckily today the lesson was rating the different flavors of kikufuku from a new shop Gojo had found, so he hadn’t interrupted anything too pressing.

It’s shortly after his early arrival that he asks the question that his friends think they should have placed money on him asking.  Maki mutters something to Toge about how she would’ve won had they done so.

“Where’s (y/n)?” 

While he stares at them with a dumbfounded expression, his friends laugh.  Loud cackling that’s intended to make him feel embarrassed, but he’s more confused than anything.  Even Gojo joins in once he’s not distracted by his leftover treats and Panda merrily tells their teacher that Yuuta’s already sick of them.

“That’s not it!” The poor boy puts his hands up in mock defense as he jumps to explain himself.  “I just want to tell her I’m back-” 

“She’s in the infirmary, genius” Maki crosses her arms, but her displeased attitude crumbles when a smirk tugs on her lips.  Yuuta forces a smile, but it’s awkward.  His nervous energy begins to shine through his excitement about returning home.

It’s not long after this that he’s delivering a string of excuses before darting out of the classroom and running to the infirmary.  Was it a little embarrassing to race towards her like this? Yeah, but there was barely anyone on campus right now anyways, so no one had to know just how eager he was to see her again.

Even though every bone in his body was practically vibrating by the time he made it there.

He peers through the small windows on the heavy doors outside the hospital classroom, making sure it was safe to enter before he barged in.  As soon as he looks inside he sees Shoko leaning against the cabinets.  (y/n) was standing in front of her, her back to the door, but she was easily recognizable to him.  Before he can knock to make himself known, Shoko catches him in her line of sight, and gives him an uncharacteristically wide grin.

In fact it’s so unusual on her face, that (y/n) perks up in the midst of whatever conversation they were having, curious to see what could've caught her interest so much.

Okkotsu Yuuta was not at all what she might have expected.

He gets to watch her light up in real time.  He hears her excitedly squealing from the other side of the door.  And somehow, even though it’s been a whole two months since he’s seen her, the ten seconds it takes for her to fly through the doors and into his arms seems to take too long.

She crashes into him so hard he stumbles to balance his footing.  She’s laughing and bouncing and rambling on, ‘I’m so happy you’re here! You’re early! I would’ve helped you with your things! Have you settled in? Have you eaten? Should we go get some food? I’ll order food! And we can stay in!’ She’s talking so fast that he catches about half of what she’s saying.  He only chuckles, not having the heart to tell her he can barely understand her.

Her arms squeeze tight around his neck before she finally lets him go.  With twinkling eyes and a smile so wide it must be sore on her cheeks, Yuuta’s slowly melting heart completely dissolves.

“Your hair’s different” She tilts her head at him while she admires the way his slightly longer hair is styled around his face.  She lets her curiosity get the best of her, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand away from his forehead.  

Yuuta hadn’t really given any thought to his hair.  He can’t remember when exactly it had gotten too long, when he’d parted it differently so it wasn’t a hindrance, but now he’s second guessing the change in style as if that change had been a conscious choice.

“Bad different?” 

There’s a small giggle in the back of her throat that she can’t help when his brows furrow at her.  He’s so cute, she thinks her heart could melt right here.

She shakes her head at him in a small motion.

“No,” She assured him.  “Good different” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a proud little smile, like he’d gotten her to admit her deepest, most well kept secret.

“Good different?” He repeats, his voice dripping with mirth.

She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose, but there’s no hiding the warmth in her cheeks and the way her dimples show when she smiles, even when she ducks her head from him.

“Shut up, Yuuta,” She pushes his shoulder but just as quickly grabs him by the elbow.  “Now come on! The day’s almost over already and we have so much we need to catch up on!” 

She forgets her bag in the infirmary as they wander campus together for a while, making pitstops to get him unpacked for his short visit and to snack up before they make their simple plans for the evening.  Conversation never ceases, even when she’s trying to place a takeout order over the phone, she finds herself remembering various little stories and jokes that she’d tucked away in her memory to share with him.  

There’s been a change in him.  It wasn’t just the training that treated him well with lean muscle, it wasn’t just the haircut, or the way he’d learned to wield his katana like it was an extension of him.  It was confidence.  It was happiness.  He didn’t stutter over his words nearly as often.  When he spoke he was sure of the things he said.  He would still blush when she got close enough or whispered something exceptionally sweet to him, but he was better at holding eye contact, and grew quite comfortable with reciprocating the small affections.  Maybe that was just it, he was finally comfortable here, and with himself.

Time flies faster than it had when they were apart.  The afternoon turns to evening which turns to the middle of the night.  They’re still sitting on the common room couch, side by side, lost in their own little world as a forgotten movie plays in the background.  Some of it had been watched when they’d eaten, but the takeout boxes on the coffee table are empty now.  Yuuta’s yawning and (y/n’s) eyelids are heavy as she tries to keep her attention on him while he tells a story, his voice getting lower and his words coming out slower the later it gets.  It’s not until he’s slumping into the uncomfortable cushions of the old couch that they even think to check the time.

When they do decide they’ve been up for too long, they make their way sneakily back to their rooms, hoping to remain as silent as possible.  But anyone who was up at this hour would hear their hushed laughter and aggressive shushing.  Yuuta bids her goodnight with the promise of taking everyone out for breakfast in the morning, but before he drops her off at her door, they share one more embrace.

She means to keep it quick, she really does.  She knows he’s tired, and maybe a little annoyed with all of the affection today, but she was so happy to have him back that she couldn’t help but want to keep him close forever.

Yuuta doesn’t seem annoyed in the slightest.  He hugs her back tightly, and makes no move to let her go anytime soon, so she doesn’t, either.  They stand that way at her door for an unknown amount of time, each waiting for the other to pull away first.

It takes some time, but eventually she shuffles out of his hold and gives him a bashful little smile followed by, “I’m really glad you’re home, Yuuta” 

The tension lays itself on thick, making sure to smother Yuuta until the back of his neck feels hot and his heart beats so hard in his chest he’s certain she’s going to notice and tease him for it.

“Me too” He manages to murmur back.  

He’s lucky he’s able to return her sweet ‘goodnight!’ too, because his throat is tightening on itself and he thinks he could start choking just standing there.

When he drags himself back to his own room and his heart calms down- just a little bit- Yuuta decides he’s going to have to do something about that tension before it kills him.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

“This is getting ridiculous,” Maki declares before kicking open the classroom door.  Her two friends follow in behind her.  “It’s actually going to make me sick.  I think we should just say something already” 

“Don’t kick doors down Maki” Panda sighs, but his warning goes ignored.

“Salmon,” Toge shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands to be palms up, as though indicating what else is there to do?

“Well for starters, we get the idiots to talk to each other,” Maki states, picking up the notebook off her usual desk.  

It was the whole reason they came back to class so late in the day, seeing as this particular notebook had the notes from their lesson earlier.  It was important she made the trip back for it before they started their study session.  She did take the better notes of the three of them.

“Apparently all their time together isn’t getting anywhere,” She huffs.  “I swear, all he does is talk about her.  He’s bound to have something good enough to confess already, right?” 

Toge giggles into his collar.

“Ease up a bit, they’ll come around to it when they’re ready, won’t they?” Panda tries to be the voice of reason.  

There’s a pause for silence.  And then Toge and Maki are cackling so hard they have to hold their stomachs to relieve the twisting knots of their muscles.

“It’s been months!” Maki hollers through her mania.

“Salmon!” 

“I mean, how much more of this can you guys take?” She doesn’t give them the time to answer her question.  “I can’t stand listening to him ramble on and on about her.  Did you know the one phone call I got, he talked about her the whole time?” 

“You’ve mentioned” Panda mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Tuna tuna” Toge agreed, before making a crude motion with his hands that had Maki bursting into laughter again.

Maki rolls her eyes, before grabbing her missing notebook from her desk and stuffing it into her backpack.  She’d been holding back on intervening on these two for months now.  At first, she didn’t care enough.  If (y/n) and Yuuta wanted to dance around each other like children with crushes then that was their business.  But now the romantic tension was so thick it choked her up to be in a room with them.  The lingering stares, the flirty giggles, the blushing- gah- she couldn’t stand it.

Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate love, and she didn’t hate either of them for being in love.  She hated wimps.  And these two were being the wimpiest people she’s ever seen for not fessing up already.

Also, wasn’t she just being a good friend for getting two dumbasses in love to admit they’re in love with each other? She did want them to be together after all, they were good for each other.

“I think it’s sweet that he loves her so much!” Panda argues.  “I don’t mind listening to it.  (y/n’s) really nice.  They deserve each other” 

“Oh, yeah, they deserve each other,” Maki agrees but her tone drips with something hostile.  “No shit, do you not see how much she stares at him?” 

Toge’s snickering gets louder.  It wasn’t often there was gossip among the small group, there wasn’t exactly time for it.  But this was rather entertaining, and watching two of his friends trip over themselves with how hard they’d been crushing on each other had been the cherry on top.

“Well, yeah,” Panda finally lets out a small laugh.  “Actually, the other day I was talking to her, and I don’t think she heard a word I said,” He chuckles as he recalls the way her eyes glazed over and a dopey little smile took over her face.  “I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed it” 

“Salmon” Toge scoffs.

“Yeah, he’s more oblivious than she is” Maki agrees.

“But I don’t think we should do anything about it” Panda tries to reason.

“They’re never going to make a move if we don’t say something,” Maki huffs.  “Can’t they just get it over with already? How hard is a confession anyways?” 

“Like you’ve ever confessed to anyone” Panda throws back at her with a proud grin.

Toge makes a sound of delight to see the gossiping turning into something much more interesting.

Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.

“That’s it!” She declares, throwing her bag over her shoulder.  “I’m going to go tell them right now.  Whoever I find first is going to hear great news today!” 

“Maki don’t!” Panda hollers, marching after her out the door.  “It’s not our place! That’s an invasion of privacy!” 

Toge’s enthusiastic babbling of rice ball ingredients follows them out into the hall, eager to see where this was going to go.

The classroom door slides shut behind him, and the sounds of their heavy, quick footsteps drones on until they’re too far to be heard.  It’s not until the room is completely silent that a small exhale of relief is heard, under the large desk that Gojo pretended to use during his lessons.

“I think we’re in the clear” Yuuta whispers, once he’s absolutely certain that no one is left in the room.

He drops his hand from over (y/n’s) mouth, where she’s been gnawing on her bottom lip for the last six minutes in fear that their classmates were going to notice them hiding under there.

“Really?” She asks in a teasing tone of voice.  “Because it sounds like they’re looking for us” 

Yuuta huffs in defeat, a look on his face that completely contrasts her own.  (y/n’s) brightened, grinning from ear to ear and giggling under her breath.  

They’re squished into the small space so when she giggles he can feel her breath fanning over his neck, and even though he wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her come back to reality- which is that their friends are on a rampage right now to get them to confess to each other, something they’d just done minutes before they’d stormed into this very classroom- but he can’t.  He takes one look at her, with her starry eyes and cute smile and he accepts whatever fate has in store for him.

(y/n) had surprised him here, happily announcing she wrapped up her lessons early so that they could spend the afternoon together.  He only had a few days left until he’d be shipped off to Africa again, so she’d worked diligently today to be sure she could give him every spare minute of her free time.  Somehow they’d wound up in the classroom alone.  

One minute Yuuta’s going on about how excited he was to hang out with her and the next thing he knows he’s accidentally letting it slip that he’d like to have her all to himself all the time.  He realized instantly that he’d said something a little too romantically charged because suddenly she’s staring up at him with those damn wide eyes and a smile full of secrets.

He must’ve said something right though, because one thing led to another and she had an iron grip on his collar while her strawberry gloss smeared all over his mouth.

(y/n) smirks now as she reaches her thumb up to his lips now, wiping away a subtle speck of pink glitter that had been left behind there.  Her face heats up as she recalls how carried away she’d gotten just minutes ago.  Until their friends showed up and nearly caught them in the act.  

Had Maki kicked down that door just a minute earlier, they surely would’ve been caught in their scrambling.  More specifically, they would’ve caught the awkward way Yuuta had lifted (y/n) off the desk he’d just set her on, only to hustle them both under the desk, the only half-decent hiding place in this whole room.

“You’re kidding,” She’d mumbled when he drew his knees to his chest and beckoned her to duck under with him.  She crowds into the space, but not without scolding him.  “They’re definitely going to-” He covers her mouth with his large palm, effectively quieting her, just as the door slams open.

Now she knows they should be scrambling out of here, before they were eventually caught- again- but she stays put in the tiny space where their legs are sore and cramped together.

“So you talk about me to all your friends, hm?” She muses, leaning in impossibly closer to give him her best shit eating grin.  It easily has Yuuta blushing from his neck to his ears as he turns his head to relieve himself from the heavy eye contact.

“Yeah yeah,” He mumbles, tugging at his collar in an attempt to soothe the heat.  Just as the embarrassment settles in, he whips his head back to meet her stare with a wild look in his eye that actually catches her off guard.  “But you’ve been staring at me!” He says.

She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the proof had been hollering in this very room just moments ago during Maki’s fit.  Panda had happily supplied the damn evidence.

So she shuts her mouth, and now Yuuta’s beaming at her with victorious pride.  

“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.

“You already know that, jerk,” She rolls her eyes at him, but it’s filled with affection.  “You’re the one who’s in love with me!” She says with a jab to his chest.

Yuuta catches her hand with his before she can pull it away, making her pleased little grin fall to something softer.  He’s able to watch in real time as her eyelashes flutter when her glance darts down to his lips, and when she looks up at him again, it’s with color in her cheeks and a sweetness in her gaze that has him turning to putty.

What was meant to be a half-hearted jest based on something Panda had said that she wasn’t exactly meant to hear now hangs in the air between them so heavy it feels like gravity grows in strength.  Her heart is pounding in her chest.  Her hand feels hot in his.  And now she sits with baited breath and wide eyes as she waits for him to say something.

Yuuta’s smiling, his free hand coming up to the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away before pulling her closer.  She tilts her head towards him, but he stops just before their lips could graze over one another.

“You love me too?” He whispers.

He phrases it like a question, but he already knows it to be true.  He just wants to hear her say it.

Her lips quirk into a sweet smile as her eyes flicker between his, lashes heavy, pupils blown wide in her irises.  She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the thought of getting to love her and be loved by her has his heart racing so fast he’s almost forgetting that he’s asked her a question because all he wants is to kiss her.

“Of course I do,” She murmurs, her soft lips ghosting over his, eager to feel them against hers again.  “Think I’ve always loved you, Yuuta,” She adds in a quieter voice.  A carefully protected deep adoration in her heart, now bestowed upon his.  “Think it’s always been you and me” She hums softly, taken away by the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy.

She could sit here and whisper sweet things to him for hours, maybe even forever.

His thumb strokes under her jaw in a gentle motion, caressing the junction at her jawline and neck.  He looks radiant, smiling down at her like nothing’s ever made him so happy.  This spurs her into wanting to say more sweet things, but before she gets the chance, he’s slanting his lips over hers.

She melts into him in every sense of the word.  Her free hand reaches for his shoulder, before sliding around his neck so she could lean into him further.  The small space they’re still hiding in only shrinks as she tries to get closer to him.  Both pairs of their legs are too long to keep bent under the desk, so she sticks one leg out, accidentally kicking the chair in front of them but she pays it no mind.  She just focuses on getting closer to him, hooking her other leg underneath herself to give her better leverage and a tiny bit more space to scoot closer.

Her hands are on his collar again as soon as he grabs her by the hips.  He gives them a gentle squeeze and she giggles softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss for only a moment.  They share wide smiles and lovesick eyes before leaning into each other again and sealing their lips in a heated and much more passionate kiss.

They don’t think at all about the noise of the chair clattering across the floor or the distinct sound of their giggling as they get swept away with one another.  In fact they completely forget that they’re only in this position because they’d been trying to keep hidden.  Both too consumed with memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips.  

It’s a sweet moment, really, the first time young lovers get to explore the way the other kisses.  Gently, with timid, inexperienced brushes.  Or hungrily, with eager, heated desire.  Taking their time was a luxury they’d thought they could finally afford.

But this time when the door opens it’s with stealth.  It slides in silence, and the steps that creep in are also with slow precision, so as not to make even a creak in the floorboards.

All that can be seen by the three intruders are the three legs jutting out from under the desk.  A familiar pair of Converse and one familiar Mary Jane with a heart shaped buckle kicking gently about on the floorboards, rocking with delight.

The hushed sound of lips smacking only ceased when there was a giggle, one of them or both of them, murmuring between kisses and giggles like a pair of school children.

There’s a few things that are audible, murmurs of ‘I love you so much’ or ‘you’re so pretty’ repeated between them like mantras.  This continues for a minute until one of the three takes a heavier step than he means to with his paw, and the room goes completely silent- save for the lewd ‘smack!’ of a pair of lips seizing upon hearing the tell-tale sign of a lurker.

Maki and Toge glare back at Panda, who sheepishly grins and shrugs his shoulders.

(y/n) and Yuuta stare at each other in horrified shock.  They don’t get the chance to come up with a plan of attack before someone is on top of the desk with a squeak of sneakers.  And then Toge is bending over the surface, staring wide eyes at the two in a rather compromising position- (y/n’s) leg is thrown over Yuuta’s lap and being kept there by a firm hand, her hands are still balled up in his unbuttoned collar, their lips are thoroughly swollen she’s effectively transferred most of her lip gloss onto his mouth, and chin and neck- there’s nothing innocent about them.  Toge stares between them both before he lets out a whistle, giggling as he hops off the desk again.

Yuuta winces as he quickly releases his grip on (y/n’s) leg so they can both scramble out from under the desk and up to their feet.  It’s ungraceful, uncoordinated as they awkwardly untangle to clamber upwards.  Yuuta hits his head on the hard oak loud enough that they both wince, (y/n) quickly inspecting the instant bump that forms at the occiput of his skull.

“No way!” Maki breaks the tension first, her jaw hanging open as she grins in amusement at having caught the two of them here.  “You were hiding out in here the whole time!?”

“Tuna!” Toge shoves his finger in their direction in accusation.

“Kissing!” Panda gasps, his paws over his face.

“Why didn’t you just say something,” Maki huffed.  “Walked around for ten minutes for no reason.  Waste of my time” She grumbles as she crosses her arms.

“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yuuta pipes up.  “It was just… uh… awkward” 

“You’re awkward!” Maki barks back with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Jeez, glad you got it over with finally” She bids them her blessing with rough words before spinning around and leaving the room without saying anything else.

Panda gives them a bright smile and nod of his head, his own friendly way of telling them he was happy for them.

“Hope you’re happy” He tells them out of the kindness of his soul before excusing himself as well.

“Salmon!” Toge agrees with a grin and friendly wave before also leaving.

All the lurking around they’d done, only to give them space as soon as they caught what they needed to.

The remaining pair turned to each other, gaping mouths turning into shy smiles as they slowly burst into laughter together.  What was supposed to be a slow introduction of new feelings to explore had now been on display to pretty much everyone they knew.  Shyness began to wash away as there was no more use for it.  Yuuta reaches for his hand and (y/n’s) fingers intertwined with his as though they’d familiarized themselves there before.  She smiles as he uses her hand to pull her closer to him, until the toes of her shoes barely bump into his.

They don’t say anything, they don’t need to.  (y/n) knows what he means when he cradles her face in his palm and smiles down at her.  He knows what she means when her nose crinkles and her free hand reaches to hold onto his collar once more.  Their ‘i love yous’ had almost always been silent, and they would forever understand it in its unspoken form.

__

this is for @staygoldsquatchling02​ for being excited about my rotting brain full of yuuta fluff a/n: y’all i got soo carried away with this-

xoxo ~ jordie

[velnna]

This might sound like an odd question but I’m planning on making my own comic at some point and I was wondering if you had any advice? Specifically in making the plot, deciding what each character does and maybe panel/page composition and how to make harmonious colour palettes?

Also one more question but when you were at the beginning of developing Stray Souls did you post little lore/plot snippets and character doodles/info or did you mainly wait until the comic was out?

(Sorry I know this is a lot but I was just wondering sort of what your process is because everything seems so seamless and well-put-together :> )

Ehh first of all the seamless and put-togetherness is an illusion 🫠

A lot of my work is built organically (fancy way of saying I just sorta wing it) and very dependent on what makes me excited at each given point. Generally, I come up with an idea for a character or a plot point and from there start branching out.

Say, I create character A. A needs a story so I create some beats for them, a beginning-middle-end type thing. While thinking of this, characters B, C, etc pop up as placeholders/devices for A's story, and the world gets shaped around it as well. Then suddenly something in the world gets decided that in turn changes A's story a little, and so on. Then I go into B, C, etc and do the same thing (build a story, let it bleed into the world and let the world bleed into it).

There's pros and cons to this sort of thing of course. Most of the time I over-develop characters or world bits that are completely unnecessary and clutter the narrative (especially when it's something like a comic, where things need to be explained visually and economically), and because of this sort of chaotic process I also tend to get entangled in my own concepts and lose track of my main threads. I don't dislike it entirely so it's just a matter of figuring out what works best for your own goals and processes.

Some general advice for comics that I've learned from trial and error: try stripping your story down to its bare bones and see what you absolutely need VS what's there for flavour or added context. Only add flavour once you're sure you can tackle the minimum, both in writing and artwise. Keep your character designs simple if you value your hands lol. It's fun to design complicated details but you WILL get tired of drawing them after a while. Sometimes it's ok to tell and not show 🤷‍♂️ if you're a one-man team sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet. Bear in mind that long stories will take YEARS to complete in comic format. Not an end all be all, but you do need to think about that. Also just go for it once you've got a structure you feel good about. I personally don't like over planning and don't even script things, so I don't think you need to have everything on paper before getting some chapters rolling. Most of what I've learned about comics has been making them, not thinking about making them. Oh, and readers tend to be more lenient than we give them credit for - if you're passionate enough about your world or characters, chances are at least some people will be interested regardless of whether you think art or writing are up to par

As for the other question, I spoiled the shit out of stray souls before launching it and still kinda do it for fun LMAO. Nothing too serious ofc but I've always loved giving people an insight into characters and world outside of the comic since the comic itself is a little peek into the whole thing. It also kinda serves to keep people interested imo

And I just can't keep my mouth shut about my stories lol

[dangerous-advantage]

why is usagi yoimbo so fucking good? (an analysis.)

usagi yojimbo is one of the most interesting, well-told, intelligent, heartfelt stories i have ever read. it's stories are nuanced and likable, supported by characters and relationships you root for.

it's simple, balanced, and when things get serious, you feel it.

and if anyone had recommended it to me, i probably wouldn't have read it.

(spoilers for usagi yojimbo: volume two; jizo. fair warning: this will probably go long.)

i picked up uyv2 on a whim. i wasn't really planning on reading it, and if i did, i didn't think i would particularly like it.

but it was related to my current hyperfixation (they didn't have 'the last ronin' in stock, which was what i was looking for), and it was a special day, so i thought, "fuck it, i'll buy this."

a couple days later, i finished it and immediately needed more. yada yada, tale as old as time.

but what exactly made it so good? a lot of people will get into media and be hooked by the very first installment. usagi yojimbo, for me, required a little bit of faith.

i started with uyv2: issue one, aka 'shades of green.' if you're a tmnt fan, this is a great jumping off point, because it lures you in with tmnt lore all while putting intrigue in your mind about what these other guys are doing, i guess.

there are callbacks to past comics that might interest you by creating a greater sense of lore and history. you'll find yourself eventually wandering back and maybe reading the next installment, just because.

this is very good, because the next installment following the shades of green arc (at least, in the usagi yojimbo saga: book one') are the "side stories," which will stick in your mind until your thoughts are overtaken by the funny rabbit guy, and you give in.

i love shades of green as much as the next guy, but damn, those side stories fuck. even if you didn't give a shit about the turtles and only read the stories (and maybe the origin tale), it is my belief that you would know basically everything you need to know.

jizo is what originally "hooked" me. in the og comics, it was a side story for the first part of the shades of green arc, which was ingenious, seeing as it's fucking amazing.

in my humble opinion, jizo is an example of sakai at his best. it's eight pages long with three panels per page, each following the same composition. its so simple, and yet, throughout my read-through of volume two, i found myself returning to it again and again.

it starts off with an image of a road, with a series of travelers passing by. a woman toting a small stone statue brings it to the edge of the road and starts on an iconic sakai infodump, with might disinterest some, but fully delighted my autistic mind!

(here she is, by the way.)

she explains (by talking to the statute) that said statue is a representation of 'jizo-sama,' "guardian of the souls of lost children. her son was murdered five days ago on this very road, and the ones responsible, a party of bandits, have not yet been caught.

her hope is that by praying to the statue, nobody else will suffer the same fate.

she also explains some lore-- that the souls of lost children are "doomed to pile stones in the dry river bed of souls." by offering pebbles at the statue's base, she hopes to ease her sons' burden.

she then leaves, noting a chill in the air, and promises to bring back a coat for the statue the following day, in order to keep it warm.

now, by all accounts, this is an example of bad storytelling. just info-dumping is uninteresting to the audience, and clunky. well, here we are reminded that actually, if your story is worth telling, nobody gives a shit if you commit "writing sins" (see 'lord of the rings' for more examples of this. yes, uy is good enough to be compared to lotr.)

but anyway, the day progresses. there are lots of fun details in these scenes --

--like this guy ^, who we meet/meet another person akin to later on in volume two (music from heaven). we also see a couple of people make offerings on their way past, which is nice (:

night falls, and with it comes-- holy shit-- its the funny rabbit guy again!

he's alone, just passing by. he doesn't even seem to notice the statue on the side of the road.

we then get some of my all-time favorite uy panels, and a perfectly-executed scene showcasing some of usagi's core beliefs and character.

so the bandits (yes, those bandits) attack. and usagi five-v-one's them. the guards come, clean things up, etc etc. more usagi characterization shines through. and usagi leaves.

all the while, jizo-sama observes.

but wait. if you're anything like me, you might notice a small detail between in two frames.

that's right-- the statue of jizo smiles. which could be creepy in any other context, but its only for a single panel, so you might assume it was just a quirk of the artwork on that one page.

but, no.

in the morning, the woman comes back.while wrapping the statute in a coat, she says, "huh? your expression has changed-- you look more at peace-- but that's impossible! isn't it?"

she ultimately decides not to worry about it, but does mention that it'll probably cause more people to be willing to give offerings as well. which leaves us with our final panel.

so. what exactly does jizo accomplish?

well, a lot of things. it sets up worldbuilding for the more 'mystical' side of uy, introduces us to sakai's ability to make you feel like you've been punched in the gut in a good way, and characterizes usagi using only eight of the twenty-four panels that make up this story. in which, he doesn't say a word.

but beyond that. why does this work so well?

for me, a part of it is the inversion of the idea of "fate." let me explain-- in a lot of stories like this, there's this underlying trope of the "chosen one" or that things will end up a certain way. while these stories aren't bad, i generally find myself uninterested in the idea of beings beyond our comprehension pulling the strings for characters that are "special."

these characters are chosen ones. they're supposed to know everything that will go down, because they're important. whether or not fate actually plays a part, you get this idea that they were always supposed to be 'chosen,' in some way or another.

uy doesn't do that. while there is some "meddling" implied, it's not because usagi is the specialest boy ever. he's just some guy making his way through japan while trying not to starve. just... figuring himself out.

in thise story, the only people who know the full extent of the narrative are ourselves and the statue of jizo. the woman shows no indication that she's heard of the bandits' capture, and for usagi, this is just another night.

it's meaningful because we get to see all these parts of the story come together, while knowing we are the only ones this is meant for. this isn't a grand story or some epic of old. it's just a small, intimate moment of retribution.

the gods-- or, in this case, jizo-sama-- doesn't care about heroism outside of this moment. it's left vague whether or not the statue or any being it represents put this moment into fruition. if anything, it could just be a coincidence, and the statue is smiling at in gratitude.

regardless, it feels so much more meaningful than if it had been done any other way. usagi is just a character traversing these lands, weaving in and out of stories, many he will never know the full extent of. and that feels real. genuine.

i do think that this changes a bit, later on in the comics, but this beginning sense-- that usagi is just travelling through a greater world, pulled this way and that for no particular reason (unless otherwise noted) is very refreshing for a series like this.

jizo does a lot of other stuff, too-- like that core characterization i mentioned above-- but this post is long enough. i wanted to get more into other aspects of why uy is so good, but there's just so much, and honestly, you should read it yourself if you haven't already to find out what. (at the very least, read jizo-- it's short, but very, very good.)

i might do more of these for the rest of uyv2 and how it hooked me, but for now, i this this works well enough to begin answering the question of why this series is so good.

(okay, i caved-- the core characterization is his unwillingness to fight unless it's necessary. now, go read jizo!)

[squid--inc]

i find it funny that the plot itself of homestuck is fairly simple considering, it's all the lore, and buildup, and just random fun bits that make it so convoluted. it's a huge webcomic when you take it as a whole.

like, yeah, it's a group of kids that try playing a funny computer game, and meet a bunch more kids (aliens{trolls} being the first ones they meet), turns out to be the end of their world, who have to basically jump around timelines to beat a bad guy who wants to kill/Destroy everything, so that no one has even an afterlife to enjoy. sure, curve ball with the timeline jumping, but it's pretty important to the plot.

but then you throw in the build up of: because the trolls ability to contact the humans at any point in time thanks to fucked up features of the game, it leads to the weird ass kk: "fuck you future me" future kk: "fuck you past me." tg: "what the fuck is happening". and because they do talk to past versions of everyone from the future, they also have the ability to deliver important info that can help everyone, or make dumber shit happen.

the lore that the trolls are kind of like insects, being born from "an incestuous slurry" and growing up as literal grubs until they develop humanoid bodies, and the fact that they will eat these infants in the brutalist timeline where they're ruled by, essentially, genocidal troll niki minaj.

there's also the fact that trolls experience relationships on a quadrant, and they essentially have to jack off into a bucket and send it with a robot sent by troll Niki so they can have babies.

there's also a whole other plot line where the villain and his sister play chess, and it turns out theyhave the same body, because they're an even more fucked up alien than the trolls.

these details aren't necessary to understand the concept of the plot, it's not actually that insane, at it's base, but there's so much random, funny dumbshit that has very little bearing to what a basic description of the webcomic is about, but also is why shit happens the way it happens. and that's why there's so much bullshit the homestuck fandom can pull, because no, it's not about juggalos becoming the first double Presidents of the united states, but the fact that they are plants by troll niki minaj to create the downfall of humanity, and flood the earth, but yes it still creates plot relevance because the alpha kids are from different parts of their own timeline, and the future kids might have no reason to actually talk to the past kids, otherwise, and they'd never play their version of the game.

like, this is (clearly) not a super intelligent, researched essay about homestuck, but it is taking a stab at the question "what even is homestuck about" and all the times someone goes for this concept of "oh, homestuck is super complicated, and I'd need forever to explain what it's about.", and like, no. it's not complicated, as plots go. it just has a lot of fun convoluted bullshit going on all the time.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

[communistkenobi-archive]

I find it rather funny how before episode 11 of Mando came out the helmet rule was almost universally accepted with little to no discussion in spite of the fact nothing like it was stablished before. I even remember that dudebros started to annoy other fans saying shit like "no helmet no mando" (though they clearly just liked the rule for shallow reasons imo); and then with a single throwaway line from a character thats extremely unreliable at best it all went to shit so quickly

I definitely think that is a fault of the show. Like obviously they don’t need to front-load exposition about every single detail about the universe, and actually the earlier episodes I think did a good job of revealing exposition through little bits and pieces, mostly via Din’s dialogue or via things people said to him.

But the show had more than one opportunity for Din to make ANY reference as to why this helmet rule is in place even though we haven’t seen it before in SW, but he doesn’t. I think the most infuriating example (at least, imo) is when Bo-Katan tells him he’s a part of CotW, and not only does he not refute that or counter it with any of his own knowledge/history/experiences/etc with Mando identity beyond a mention of “the Way of the Mandalore” (something we still don’t know anything about!!!), he just goes “whaaat?”

It would have even been really nice to have a short and simple convo between him and Boba about the nature of Mando identity, because they’re basically on opposite spectrums wrt their armour - Boba has existed outside of it for most of his life, and Din has existed inside of his armour for his own life, but they both mutually affirm one another’s claim to Mandalorian-hood. That’s super interesting!! It implies that Din does actually have a complex and nuanced opinion about the subject - he might not even have a settled opinion on it, or is grappling with some internal contradictions he has trouble reconciling, or even has access to some really crucial information that we don’t know about yet. But we don’t get any of that!! After an entire additional season, we really don’t know that much more about him than we did in S1, at least in regards to his own history as a Mandalorian.

Again, I know the show is far from over and we’ll surely get a lot more info on it later down the road, but even just a single comment from Din that positions him as an authority on his OWN experiences of his Mandalorian identity would have been extremely beneficial. As of right now, characters mostly just... explain his own identity to him, and he reacts to those statements. Which is a totally fine way of establishing certain rules about your universe, but I would really like him to be more proactive about his own understanding of the world sometimes. I think the show has skewed too far towards the Strong, Silent Type trope for him wrt personal exposition, which instead of making him seem strong and silent, it undermines his authority on his own experiences. I don’t know that this is the case for certain, but that’s what it feels like to me.

A throw-away line that always comes to mind for me is in ch7, when he’s speaking with Kuiil about the baby’s possible origins - Din says “I think it’s a strand cast or something” (paraphrasing here). And that’s a completely new term we haven’t heard before! It’s a very small but effective line that establishes that Din knows things the audience does not; it’s part of why he was so initially compelling. Throwaway comments like that not only hint at knowledge we don’t have access to, but it also establishes that he like, thinks about things lmao. I know that’s super basic, but for a character who gives so little away, there is a lot more weight placed on the dialogue he does have.

So it’s just, really frustrating that for a man who is so deeply committed to Mandalorian faith and identity, whose own sense of self is inextricably tied to that identity, we haven’t yet gotten any formal idea about what he thinks about those things, even when he is pointedly prodded by other characters about that very subject (Bo-Katan, Boba, even Mayfeld). It makes him seem overly docile, uncritical, and intellectually dim, which I don’t think is an intentional characterisation choice.

[ggyutea]

into the aether // jjk [CHAPTER ONE]

pairing: agent!jungkook x agent!reader

genre: not-so-secret organization au, rivals to lovers au, sci-fi, action, slow burn, mutual pining, future mystery 👀, eventual fluff, eventual smut (probably), teeny bit of future angst

word count: 4.4k

summary: As a rookie member of an organization that deals in investigating and neutralizing paranormal and extraterrestrial threats, you get assigned to your very first case with Jeon Jungkook as your partner, a former classmate you’ve never been too fond of.  But what happens when your supposed low-tier rookie case begins to unravel into something more serious than anyone anticipated?  And, more importantly, how do you come to terms with your growing feelings for Jungkook?

contents: jungkook being a little shit, y/n is a bisexual disaster, the tension is real honestly, female!namjoon, long haired Kook, mild info-dumping for context

warnings: mild cursing

a/n: behold, my first posted fic! i have absolutely no idea how long this series will be but i’m super excited about it!!  i hope anyone who happens to come across this enjoys it :))

previous || masterlist || next

The agency-issued suit is surprisingly comfortable.  Form-fitting without being tight, the dress slacks and jacket cling softly to your body as you adjust your badge before entering your new workplace.  Taking a deep breath as you push open the double doors of the Aether Headquarters, you are greeted by the sight of many bustling individuals, all dressed in suits identical to the one currently adorning your body.  A potent mix of excitement and nerves light up your veins as you take in the sight, the moment almost surreal.  

Your heels click across the linoleum floor as you begin to make your way through the massive atrium to the semi-circular elevator.  You check and double check your badge for your assignment details, noting in relief when you realize that you haven’t already forgotten them.  Floor 7, Division S01.  Floor 7, Division S01, you repeat over and over again, a mantra of sorts.  Beginning at a brisk pace, you inevitably slow as you take in the sights of the cavernous space.  Massive glass windows stretch high towards the ceiling on every wall, letting in beams of early morning sunlight that cast a warm glow over everything they touch.  Two large LED screens are affixed on either side of the main elevator across the way, one showcasing a map of the city, the other a map of the country, with all of the paranormal and extraterrestrial hotspots highlighted in bright red pulsing circles.   A small cafe sits nestled in a corner to your left, baristas rushing around frantically in the midst of the morning rush.  A circular desk occupies the center of the room, currently manned by two individuals as they supervise the row of turnstile doors on either side.  Agents stand lined up in front of the doors, some impatiently checking their watches as they wait for the people in front of them to swipe in, others leisurely sipping their coffee.  

You’re reminded that in your haste this morning, you forgot to make yourself coffee, so before you join the agents at the doors, you cheerily purchase your own steaming cup of liquid energy.  You’re not sure if you really need it, with all of the adrenaline rushing through your system, but you figure it can’t hurt.  Sure enough, the warmth of the drink floods your body with a sense of ease, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as you swipe your badge, watching the light on the console turn green as an automated voice says, “Welcome, Agent Y/n.”  Continuing your path towards the elevator, you note with glee an approaching directory indicating that the library and research facilities are to your right, with the short-term containment facilities lying to your left.  Of course, you have learned about all of this in your four years of training, but learning about the immensity of the resources available in the Aether Headquarters and actually seeing them and experiencing them are two completely different things.  You make a mental note to check out the library before the day is over as you enter an elevator car with several other agents.

The electricity in your veins feels nearly tangible as you ascend to your dream.  You note with an amused quirk of your lips that your internal energy seems a stark contrast to the yawns and sleepy gazes of the rest of the elevator.  The 7th floor arrives in the blink of an eye, and you excuse yourself as you weave past a couple agents to exit the car.  After a short navigation of the floor thanks to the clearly labeled and numbered signs, you finally approach the door to your division.  Pronounced in bold, simple characters, the division code ‘S01’ stares at you from the door as you regard it, a slight lump forming in your throat as you take one last sip of your coffee.  Thoughts fly through your head as you go through your mental checklist.  Supervisor = Agent Kim Namjoo.  Your hand is on the shiny chrome door handle.  Mixed division.  You’re turning it slowly.  Potential for other recent graduates to be working here.  Before you know it, the door is swinging open and-- “Ah!”  You’re suddenly met with the startled yelp of a young woman, causing you to flinch as it snaps you out of your reverie.  

The woman chuckles as she brings a hand to adjust her glasses, face quickly smoothing into a sweetly dimpled smile as she looks at you.  “I am so sorry,” she begins upon seeing your startled expression, “you caught me totally off guard.”  She laughs lightly.  “I don’t believe we’ve met!  You must be Agent Y/n.  I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim.”  She extends her hand to you as you blush, blurting out an apology before reaching out your own hand.  “Sorry we couldn’t have met under more formal circumstances, but it’s really no problem as my office is right here anyway,” she explains, gesturing to a door to her right.  

“Nice to meet you, Agent Kim!  I’m really very excited to be here,” you let out a soft chuckle as you begin to regain your composure.  Agent Kim flashes you another gorgeous smile that puts you immediately at ease.  

“I’m so happy to hear that, Agent.  If you wouldn’t mind following me into my office?”  She begins making her way towards her office door.  You quickly oblige, stepping into your supervisor’s spacious office.  Agent Kim takes a seat promptly behind her desk, motioning for you to have a seat across from her.  

“Hold on just one second.”  Your supervisor begins typing away at the keyboard of one of her two computers and you take the brief moment to admire the immaculately trimmed bonsai tree perched next to her.  However, your gaze quickly turns back to your supervisor as you can’t help but acknowledge how absolutely gorgeous she is.  Her skin has all the warmth of the first golden hues of a sunrise.  Brunette hair tied back elegantly, a few strands escape to frame the elegant slope of her face.  Her jawline is pronounced without being too sharp, culminating in the graceful point of her chin.  You flush slightly at your thoughts, mentally scolding yourself.  Great.  First day of work and you’re already simping over your boss.  It’s not your fault you’ve had such a wonderful first impression of her.  Everything about her presence immediately calms your racing heart and soothes any apprehensive thoughts that had crossed your mind on your journey into S01.

“Alright,” Agent Kim removes something from a desk drawer before setting it on the desktop and turning her attention towards you.  “First and foremost, welcome to Division S01!  Like I said, I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim.  This is a mixed division, which I’m sure you’re already aware of as it seems you specifically requested it.”  

You nod.  In the Aether, there are generally three types of divisions that field agents work in.  Each is composed of agents of all levels, from rookies like yourself to seasoned veterans.  Some divisions are dedicated entirely to the more peaceful reports from around the city that are generally non-violent and consist of relatively minor disturbances.  Nothing too serious, but due to their nature, these divisions see a lot of cases on the daily.  In your time at the Academy, you’d interned on a few of these types of cases, one of them involving the containment of an alien squid horde that was interfering with the local fishing economy.  Other divisions deal with the more intense, higher-magnitude cases.  Often violent, these investigations require collaboration from multiple agents throughout the division as they look into paranormal serial murder, shape-shifting extraterrestrial identity theft, and the like.  Divisions like yours, S01, are a hybrid.  They get the best of both worlds and are well suited for agents who are capable of handling everything across the board, and, more importantly, for agents who want to take on that kind of responsibility.  Since you graduated at such a high class rank at the Academy, you had no problem securing a spot in a mixed division such as this one.

“Now,” your supervisor picks up the item she had previously pulled from her desk.  “This is your tablet.”  She slides the device over to you.  “All of your assignments and case files will be sent to you through this, and you’ll have access to a limited virtual library via our digital databases if you find yourself needing that kind of resource.  Of course, you’ll use your agency-issued ID to login and it’ll give you full access!”  She beams as you hold the tablet in your hands.  “Your first assignment has already been sent to you, it looks like…” she trails off, turning to glance at her computer monitor.  Your heart starts picking up again.  You are literally holding your very first professional case in your hands!  

“Do you know what level it is, or who I’ll be working with?”  You can’t help the questions that bubble from your mouth.  Agent Kim shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, that information comes from higher up, so until you open the file yourself I have no way of knowing the details of your field assignment,” she says with a shrug.  Your stomach twists in anticipation, and you’re tempted to unlock your tablet and read through the entire assignment right then and there.

“Alright,” you say with a tentative smile.  Agent Kim returns your expression.

“Now, do you have any questions before I show you to your office?”  Her eyebrows lift as she looks at you expectantly.  “Don’t be timid, I know I had plenty of questions when I became an official agent, but I have found that the Academy really does a spectacular job preparing agents for the field.”

“I do have a question, actually.”  Agent Kim’s face immediately brightens.  “Are there any other recent Academy grads other than myself assigned to this division?”  You’re already aware that your closest friends from the Academy, Yubin and Jeongin, are stationed in different divisions, but you’re dying to know if anyone you recognize from your class at the Academy are in S01.  

“Ah, yes.  I figured you’d ask eventually.  Agent Jeong Jaehyun has been here for about a week now, and Agent Jeon Jungkook started yesterday morning.  They were both listed as having graduated with your class.”

You stiffen as soon as the name ‘Jeon Jungkook’ leaves her mouth.  You aren’t very familiar with Jaehyun, but Jungkook…  That’s a name you’ll never forget.  Top of your class at the Academy, teacher’s pet, fuckboy, irritatingly pretty Jungkook.

“Oh!” you squeeze out through gritted teeth and a tense jaw.  “Good to know!  Thank you, Agent Kim.”

“Of course,” she replies with her warm smile that almost eases the growing knot in your stomach.  “Would you care to see your office now?”

Your office isn’t huge, but it’s certainly functional.  A large sleek metal desk occupies the bulk of the room, with an equally sleek office chair to match.  You silently hope that it swivels.  Apart from the desk and chair, a filing cabinet stands tall in the corner, in addition to a floor lamp.  Another lamp sits perched on your desk beside two computer monitors and a telephone.  A screen nearly identical to, albeit smaller than, the ones mounted in the atrium sits above your desk, the blue and red graphics of your city adding a touch of color not unwelcome in the otherwise very neutral room.  Immediately, you begin considering ways to add your own personal touch to your workspace, inspired by Agent Kim’s bonsai tree.

Agent Kim explains the presence of dual computers, indicating that one is strictly for classified research purposes and details regarding any cases the agency might want to keep more under wraps than others, so to speak.  “The screen,” she adds, gesturing to the wall, “can be used for any video conferences, calls, and the like within the Headquarters and nationwide, as well as providing the same information as the screens--I’m sure you noticed them--in the atrium.”

You nod as she continues to talk, all the while setting your bag on your desk and beginning to unpack your few personal belongings, including your diploma from the Academy.

“I suppose that’s about all you need to know about your office for the time being,” Agent Kim says after reinforcing that your agency ID will be your key to accessing your electronics.  “Go ahead and start getting yourself settled, Agent Y/n.  Agents Kang and Choi should be in the offices directly adjacent to you…” she trails off, seemingly trying to recall if those are the correct agents.  “Anyway,” she claps her hands together, “If you have any questions, well, you know where to find me!  Let me know if you need anything at all.  I mean it.”  Agent Kim once again gives you that calming smile.  Her smile brings you a type of comfort you can’t quite explain, and you honestly couldn’t be happier with your supervisor so far.  She’s warm and inviting, intelligent, beautiful, with an air about her that simply exudes leadership and command.  

“Thank you, Agent Kim,” you match her smile.

With an amiable wave, she heads out.  Your thoughts very quickly turn back to your assignment, and you scramble to sit at your office chair, which does in fact swivel, much to your delight, agency tablet grasped tightly in your hands.  Questions race through your mind at the sight of the black mirrored surface, knowing what lies behind the locked screen.  You figure the case will probably be something low-profile, as you are brand-new, but you really hope that it’s something more advanced  You did graduate close to the top of your class... which brings your mind back to Jeon Jungkook.  He had the honors of graduating first, and you’ll never forget that fact.  You wonder what he’s been assigned, if it’s a more advanced case than is typical for rookie agents.  You probably don’t want to know, however; it’ll only make you more upset if your assignment is comparatively mundane.  At least you can rest in peace knowing that as a newbie, you’ll probably be paired with a more senior officer, and, with all of the agents who work in this division, the odds of running into Jungkook on a case are relatively slim.  You hoped that after you graduated you’d never have to cross paths again, but alas, here you are.  You sigh and run your fingers through your hair before focusing your attention back on the excitement of being here, your future literally in your hands.  The closest you’ve ever been.

Finally unlocking the tablet, you’re greeted by a relatively simple interface that allows you to very easily navigate to your newly received assignment.  The small folder icon sits amidst a sea of other completely unassuming icons, the tiny graphic completely unaware about the significance of its appearance to you.  You open the file, trying to empty your mind of any expectations, and then… your heart sinks.  At the very top of the document, next to your own, who else’s name do you see but Jeon Jungkook.  Well, fuck.

You spend the better part of the next hour contemplating whether you should read the file by yourself or get your shit together and go track down Jungkook’s office so you can go over it together.  Eventually, you settle for a quick skim, though the words barely stick in your mind as you find yourself somewhat preoccupied with thoughts about your partner.  How are you supposed to work with him?  You certainly don’t hate him, but you’ve always had your disagreements.  And you’ll never forgive him for taking your spot in the class, not to mention breaking your best friend’s heart.  

After absorbing as much information as your distracted mind can handle, which consists of a jumbled mass of something about a flower shop and floating objects, your rational professional brain gets the best of you, and you head to your supervisor’s office to inquire about the location of Jungkook’s--Agent Jeon’s--office.  You have a job to do, and as much as you’re dreading facing Jungkook, you’ll get the job done, and you’ll get it done well.  Just as you always have.  And though you can’t stand Jungkook, he’s not useless.

You approach the doorway to Jungkook’s office, finding the door already ajar, before stopping to lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with your tablet clasped in one hand.  Jungkook is currently intently focused on one of his computer screens, face tense in concentration, chewing lightly on his lower lip.  Tie hanging loose around his neck, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, jacket foregone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows with his long slightly wavy hair dangling in his eyes… yep.  That’s Jungkook.  You clear your throat and give a small knock on the threshold.  Jungkook immediately shoots up.  “Y/n!” He exclaims, eyebrows lifted, a goofy smile toying on his face.  You resist the urge to roll your eyes.  “Sorry,” he clears his throat, “I mean- Agent Y/N,” he says, face growing serious as he emphasizes ‘Agent’.  “So,” he folds his hands dramatically on top of his desk.  “What can I do for you?”  You enter the room at last, mouth pursed in a firm line. “Agent Jeon,” you begin, taking a seat across from him.  “It appears as though we have been paired together for our first assignment.”  

“Oh, that’s right!  I saw that. I already read the whole file. Simple stuff.”  His hands are still perched steepled on top of his desk.

You gawk before realizing that of course he had gotten the file first; he’s been here since yesterday, and you figure that there was probably a fair amount of sucking up going on mixed in with, apparently, file reading.  “You...already read the whole file?  Were you ever going to come find me about it?”  It’s about mid-morning at this point, pushing towards noon, and most agents are already well into their work days.  You wonder what Jungkook has been up to all day if not coming to find you, but you suppose you can’t complain.  Reading Jungkook’s name on your assignment with an hour to process that information before actually seeing him is a far better scenario than him randomly showing up at your office expecting you to work with him.

He shrugs.  “I figured you’d come to me first once you found out about it and got settled.  I asked her about you and she told me you’d be here today.  I’ve been busy, and besides, it’s not like it’s a top priority case.”

How can he be so nonchalant about everything all the time while still managing to kiss nearly everyone’s ass?  And what the hell has he been busy with?  You smooth your hair back as you take a deep breath, mentally steeling yourself so as not to go off on Jungkook on your first day of work.  No doubt, you’re still harboring several grudges from the Academy, but you’re a professional now.  A professional.  What a way to start your dream job.

“For future reference, if necessary, I would prefer that we go over the file together in detail first. This isn’t the Academy anymore, Agent Jeon. These are real people dealing with real problems and I’d like to be on the same page as much as possible at every given moment.  Even if the case isn’t ‘top-priority.’”

Jungkook has been like this for about as long as you’ve known him, and although you are mere acquaintances, albeit rivals of a sort, everyone in your class at the academy was well-aware of Jeon “The Golden Boy” Jungkook’s disposition and ass-kissing tendencies.  Top of your class, he always managed the best possible marks while seemingly caring about his work as little as possible.  Showing his face at every party, event, club--you name it--available to him, you have no idea how he managed to get along as well as he did and continues to do.  You suppose it’s probably due to his incredible charm, and some suspiciously large quantity of natural talent, not to mention his good looks.  You may dislike him, but you aren’t blind.  Naturally, his success always bugged you, as you constantly worked your ass off.  Always trailing behind him, never quite catching up, like a dog chasing its own tail, you graduated second in your class.  Years of hard work and careful studying, focusing nearly all of your attention on taking every possible opportunity available to advance your standing, was evidently not enough to best The Golden Boy.  You always got the feeling he wasn’t too fond of you either, not that you really care.  I guess the universe has a strange way of torturing you by assigning you two to the same division in the Aether.

“Noted.”  Jungkook nods.  

“What were you so ‘busy’ with anyway?”  You can’t help yourself.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, eyes shifting away from yours.  “It doesn’t matter, Agent Y/n.  Sorry I didn’t come get you earlier,” he says before clearing his throat, eyes meeting yours once more.  You decide to let the matter go.  Work awaits.

“Very well, Agent,” you say, eyeing him curiously.  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go over the contents of the file with you so we both know what’s going on and we can go forward from there.”  You put every effort of your being into injecting nothing but professionalism into your voice, even managing a small, tight smile.

“Fair enough,” he replies as you scoot forward in your chair and unlock your tablet as Jungkook does the same.  Upon closer inspection of the document than earlier, you glean that the report comes from a Mr. Kim Seokjin who apparently owns a flower shop called Worldwide Bouquet downtown.  He claims that his bouquets are disassembling themselves overnight which, understandably, is negatively affecting his business.  He reports instances of his materials floating out of his reach, flowers being flung about his workspace, and the resulting frustration.  Jungkook taps his fingers on the table as you scan the screen, one hand lazily scrolling through his own tablet.

“Sounds like some sort of sprig,” you mutter after perusing the report.  Sprigs are one of the more docile paranormal creatures you’ve studied, typically materializing out of the playful spirit of a child.  As a result, these spirits are typically very mischievous without malicious intent.  Some have telekinetic abilities, some illusory capabilities and the like, but all in all, they are generally fairly easy to take care of and contain until their energy eventually dissipates into the atmosphere.  At least, the Academy had taught you as much.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jungkook offers.  “A telekinetic one, most likely.  Should be a quick job.”

You nod, slightly disappointed that you weren't going to be dealing with something a bit more exciting than a simple sprig, let alone dealing with it with Jungkook.  The Aether probably isn’t too fond of handing off the more sensitive cases to newbies, even if you and Jungkook more than proved yourselves in the Academy.  Too bad there isn’t too much about the case to actually discuss.  You feel a bit foolish for making such a big deal about Jungkook not coming to you after he originally read the file as you feel your shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“See?  Not top-priority,” Jungkook smirks.  “You didn’t think they’d really give us something important for our first case, did you?”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Yep.”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping for something more, but it’s all important work Agent Jeon.”  Besides, if you manage to execute this mission perfectly, considering working with Jungkook proves to be manageable, you’d hope that your next case will be of significantly higher status.

“Of course,” Agent Jeon says, tucking a stray strand of inky hair behind his ear.  “The super important case of the floating flowers,” he snorts.  

You scoff.  “Can’t you take something seriously for once in your goddamn life, Agent Jeon?  I will literally never understand how you managed as well as you did in the Academy.”  Grabbing your tablet in preparation to leave and shaking your head, you stand up.  Jungkook sits unbothered.

“Apparently not,” he retorts, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Since you seem so blatantly disinterested in this case, I’ll just take care of it myself,” you huff.  “Go back to whatever you were so busy with before, Agent.”

“Agent Y/n, we both know you can’t do that.”

He’s right.  If you execute the mission by yourself without Agent Jeon, it wouldn’t reflect well on either of you, and you can’t risk compromising your image this early in your career.  Especially if it meant you’d be stuck investigating nothing but sprigs for the next ten years.

A long sigh escapes you as you shoot a glare at Jungkook before sitting back down across from him.  You force the fakest smile you think you’ve ever conjured.

“We’re going to stop by Mr. Kim’s later today to get the initial visit out of the way, okay Agent?”  Your voice is thick with mock sweetness.  “3:00, my office.  I’ll be calling Mr. Kim and letting him know we’ll be checking in, kay?”  

“Sounds great, Agent.” Jungkook returns your phony expression.  

You stand up once more, this time with the full intention of actually leaving.  “It was a pleasure, as always, Agent Jeon.”  You straighten your jacket with one hand before promptly exiting, not bothering to close the door behind you.  The last thing you hear is a prolonged, exasperated exhale.  That makes two of us, you muse to yourself.

Upon returning to your office, you slump down in your chair, mind spinning with the incredulity of what just happened.  You’re not sure at all how you’re going to manage working with Jungkook, especially since he seems so hellbent on being as difficult as possible.  This is exactly what you were afraid of.  The feeling, however, is probably mutual, so all you need to do is get through this.  Hopefully after this you’ll never have to man a case with him again, even if you are still stuck in the same division.  

Encouraged by that sentiment, swiveling ever so slightly back and forth in your chair, you manage to boost your mood just enough to finally be able to pick up the phone to call Mr. Kim.

Well, you sigh inwardly.  This should be interesting.

[cottoncandyreaper]

(A story that I've been working on for a month now! I present to you: Heisenberg's Child)

She couldn't be fucking serious; she couldn't be absolutely fucking serious!? Years of pain, fears and dealing with this bullshit family as I'm standing here staring her right in the eyes and she's telling me that she created another near perfect vessel...with my fucking dna!? Not some cadou filled corpse but personally, my blood, my semen...she stole from me and I never even fucking knew it. It could have been a plan from the very beginning for all I knew; no other explanation worked in my mind.

"The child is being transported here to Romania thanks to Umbrella themselves, they are to hand deliver her to us."

"Why would we trust those, dogs mother Miranda? When they have only proven to want to kill you."

Alcina's voice held annoyance of the topic being about something regarding myself but she hid it well. Almost.

"Humans are frail of mind child, if you promise them anything worth gold they will bend to any request."

Her words no matter how she put them held a secretive meaning behind them; she had more planned then what she was leading on about and that's what I hated the most about her was all the damn secerts.

"Now why would this giant monster of a company need this...kid as a trump card?"

"Because the child has gained your ability through genetics my son and it seems they are very good at using it. You, dear Heisenberg have a unique and strong gift that has sparked fear in the eyes of many. Although given to you, seeing that a child can be born from you possessing the same gift only bods destruction once they are here with us."

Experimentation gave me this 'gift' oh so graciously without my want for it; hearing that it seeped so low as to embedding itself into my genes pissed me the fuck off more then I thought anything else in the world could. And hearing that it passed down to the unwanted next generation was even more then I couldn't have hoped for.

"Within a few days she will be in our arms, so ready yourselves to greet our new member."

She was dismissing us so soon after gathering us without even going over the finer details of whatever needed to happen or any info on this brat. Was there some mother out there with a broken heart of having a child ripped away from them? A step father that took my place to help raise it? Or was the kid going to be just as mentally jacked like I was? I hated waiting to find out standing from the couch and left without a word. But that didn't mean I wouldn't be harassed.

"You should feel some joy Heisenberg; a illegitimate child will be joining our family and their connection with you will be a wonderful parental bonding moment for you both."

For once I was speechless to the mega bitch choosing to let my mind wonder to more important topics then listening to her irritating voice. The next few days would be the longest I've ever dealt with.

~

The next few days had been nothing but beauty and eventful sight seeing. Uncle Chris had explained to me that the new factory I would be working in was state of the art and fully up to date on all the information about myself. But that conversation was now long gone since the helicopter had been shot down sending us into a whirling spin with fire on the tail.

"TUVA!"

My hand just barely brushed against uncle Chris's until the helicopter hit the ground jolting me back as it broke almost perfectly down the middle. It jarred my body sending waves of pain through out my limbs as my eyes, hazy still, focused on the movement and sound coming from Uncle Chris as he tried to reassure me.

"Tuva, Tuva don't move..."

"I...can try to move the plane, I can move it up..."

"Don't...its too heavy...you'll send your half down."

"...down?"

Risking it I turned my head ever so slowly even scared to do that simple movement to see that with just the right amount of luck my half of the plane was starting to tip over the edge.

"C-chris..."

"Hold on I'll get you, just stay still."

Breathing was a labored task as seconds turned into hours watching him inch his way towards me when another solid hit smacked into the plane.

"There's lycans out here sir!"

"Hurry up and kill them!"

Lycans? Like...werewolves? Where the fuck were we!? Even though my mind was trying to piece something rational together that all slipped away seeing the final pieces holding the two halves together break. It was a last ditch effort trying to use my power to stay afloat but Chris was right, it was too much for me; the sun greeted my eyes shining down its light while the echos of Chris's last call of my name faded away, all I could manage was a metal cocoon that I hoped would save my life.

The landing was hard almost sending me into unconsciousness with how badly it rattled my bones and brain. I waited a few minutes to listen and just settle down as the fact that something destroyed the plane and successfully separated me from the crew whirled uncontrolled in my mind. I wasn't going to lie but I knew that there was at least some kind of weird cult here in the area that weren't big fans of Umbrella corporation. All that information was supposed to stay buried but I was more clever then they thought I was. But that's what scared me the most; why did they hate us? The question swimmed mildly through my restless mind as I released my hold on the metal letting it fall around me yet immediately regretted it. Those...lycans, they had me surrounded so fast even though I never heard a sound. But what they didn't know was that I had a arsenal on my side as the pieces of metal from the cocoon unraveled as well as some from the other half of the plane began floating around me.

"Back off freaks! I'm alot more of a threat then I look!"

Some of them were fazed by my words backing off but others, bigger ones, were not. Just as I was seconds away from throwing what I had it was like thousands of pounds were added to the scrap pieces breaking my hold on them embedding them into the ground below.

"Now now kid~ no need to be so hostile. These guys are like giant...angry puppies."

A strange man walked out from somewhere in the back; a cigar on his lips, a wide brimmed hat and glasses covering most of his features besides his graying beard. Adorned in a trench coat, old looking tan shirt, pants and boots...he had a major western vibe going on. But was he...the one that forced me to release the metal?

"Who are you!? Where are the others!?"

"My job was to separate and gather you up so that's all I got for ya for now, we'll make introductions later."

"Hell no! Stranger danger dude."

Grabbing ahold of the metal again I was able to throw it this time aiming straight for western man; I knew it would hit with how much practice I had done. Yet as it floated in mid air not moving a inch infront of him...I knew that it I wasn't controlling it anymore.

"What the fuck...?"

"Good throw there kiddo, but it doesn't work if the target can do the same thing."

Western man walked out from behind it waving his hand off to the side sending the metal away.

"Wouldn't it be much better to talk maybe somewhere not absolutely filled with creepy ass lycans?"

"Who are you!? Why can you that!? Why can you do what I do?"

He stood there thinking for a moment or two in pure silence until his hand shifted gripping the cigar between gloved fingers throwing it to the ground stomping out the embers.

"What can I say kid...its in the genes."

I could just see his eyes peak up at me from beneath his sunglasses before he lifted his head back up wearing a grin.

"You think you were lucky enough to be born like that without a little help from your good ol' dad?"

He was insane wasn't he!? Full of shit speaking crazy literally seconds after meeting me. My dad was dead from war, my mom died giving birth to me. That's what I knew for a fact and I was in no mood to argue those facts.

"Fuck...you."

[ritchieblackless]

There's superstition...

After the torture sentence that I aplied to myself by thinking that this post could be a good idea, I fucking have the information about this... this... twisted story. Not all the information though, because if I search for more info about this I will surely need to go to the Cuckoo's nest.

Oh Martina, you're exaggerating. No, I'm not (well yeah, kinda). This was so confusing to understand and organize. Believe I was in the bathroom seconds ago saying "Okay, 1970 Cozy and Jeff going to Detroit. 1971 and 1972 Stevie.."

The most important thing about Superstition's back story and theories about Cozy's playing on it, is the ☆Timelines.☆ Because in the end everything revolves around 1970-71 and 72 to ever consider Cozy in Superstition so let's start.

[Jeff Beck and Cozy Powell going to Motown Studios in Detroit, 1970-71]

They both travelled to the States to do some Motown covers for the upcoming album with only covers but they never released it. They released Rough and Ready inestead but I'll leave the man explains that to you himself:

"My producer, Mickie Most, said, 'We have to make an album.' I talked Mickie into going to Motown, the Hitsville house. It was one of the last sessions there. I was so privileged. We were more like tourists, kids in a candy shop. I took Cozy [Cozy Powell] and I said, 'I gotta go to Motown, and you’re coming as well.' (Cozy: *gets scared and excited*) It wasn't a request. What the hell was I doing taking a rock drummer, with two huge Ludwig bass drums, into Motown? They hated us right away. They didn’t want to know. But we loved it there, and they sensed it after a few hours. The first day, when Cozy sat behind the Motown drum kit and started playing like the Meters, they all went, 'Oh!' (Motown people: Heeey... That's pretty good!) and came flooding back to the studio. It was James Jamerson on bass that day — no rhythm guitar — and Earl Van Dyke on keyboards. That was it, a stripped-down thing. They kept saying, 'Where are the dots?' [sheet music] I said, 'There ain’t no dots.'

When Cozy started playing, it was great. James was locking up with Cozy’s drum pattern. Then I looked around — Cozy was wheeling the drum kit out of the studio. They’re going berserk. He has moved the sacred Motown drum kit out of the studio and wheeled this stupid double kit of Ludwigs in. The studio tech came up to me and said, 'Didn’t you guys come in here for the Motown sound?' Yeah. 'Well, it just went out the door.' [Laughs] "

Jeff Beck, Rolling Stone.

I just love when Jeff refers to Cozy's drum kit as stupid, fancy or whatever in a derogatory way... just because it was sparkling red jsjdjfkgkgl.

We have here, Cozy's side of the events:

"You may as well start off with both feet on the most obscure thing I've ever done. I've got a copy of it, a tape.

It never got the test pressing stage. We went to Motown in Detroit with the idea of Jeff recording an album of all the Motown hits, basically as an instrumental album. He wanted to use a lot of the Motown session players. At that time I'd just joined him, 1969 I think, and his original idea was to find a drummer first. Found me, went down to the audition, got the job, next thing I know (Jeff: You're coming with me. Cozy: ...the fuck?) we're going to Motown to do this album. We did 'Reach out I'll Be There', 'Losing You', things like that. In the end we did about 7 or 8 tracks of which the backing tracks were done.

Jeff plays rhythm guitar, he hadn't actually put the lead on and for some reason he wasn't happy with what he heard or with Micky Most or whatever. It never ever saw the light of day."

Cozy Powell, interview with Joe Gessin

This is all important because this wouldn't be the first time that Jeff and Cozy travelled to the States together.

[JBGroup going to Electric Lady in New York, May 1972]

This is where the party begins and when the timelines confusion comes in.

So, Jeff Beck Group's second album is recorded in January of 1972 at TMI Studios in Memphis. Talking Book was RELEASED in October of 1972 so we don't know how exactly when it was recorded.

But anyway, the thing is that Jeff and his gang released the album in May but before that Stevie and Jeff were kicking the idea of some session works with Jeff for Talking Book so when they released the album in May, they had no obligations left so Jeff took his gang to Electric Lady in New York.

Jeff recorded some guitar tracks and the gang was just observing and occasionally adding ideas. They wanted Stevie to write a song for the next album (which it doesn't exist).

This is where the party begins part 2:

There is this story of Jeff playing the drums for a laugh, noodling around while Stevie was writing over it. It seems like Jeff did something that inspired Stevie but here's the guy again:

"One day I was sitting at the drum kit, which I love to play when nobody's around, doing this beat. Stevie came kinda boogieing into the studio: 'Don't stop.' 'Ah, c'mon, Stevie,' I can't play the drums.' Then the lick came out: 'Superstition.'"

Jeff Beck, Jeff Beck: Crazy Fingers.

I really doubt that is Jeff's playing in the record. What I don't doubt is that maybe Stevie played the drums but since they had Cozy around and Stevie liked Cozy's beat and most importantly he was a drummer (I'm not saying that Stevie is not a drummer, I'm just saying that Cozy is a full drummer while Stevie plays a lot of things). This is where the previous Cozy post about this comes in. They where trying different things so I really believe that at some point of that day Cozy sat down on the drum kit and did a take.

And there's a proof that Cozy was there and worked with Stevie, actually there are two: The only two existents pictures of Stevie Jeff and Cozy were taken in 1972.

"Stevie Wonder is one of these man who walks around singing all day, tapping out rhythms... well, the man IS music. When I worked with him -which was very briefly- he'd come in with this idea in his head and he'd say 'Hey, hey, play this man!' and he'd start tapping something out"

Cozy Powell, Rhythm magazine 1987.

And theres another Cozy quote but is not complete because I found it on pinterest (so sorry) but it's understandable as well.

"He'd tapping out the table. You'd watch and start tapping along with him and he'd get excited and say 'Yeah, yeah, yeah... now try this on the hit-hat, man, try this.. ' After five minutes you'd have come up with something and then perhaps you'd do a little bit more or a little bit less of it, and if he really liked it he'd start dancing around and laughing and waving his arms about. Then he'd leap on to the keyboards and start playing. It was all very energetic, good stuff and really easy to do. You weren't aware it was work."

Cozy Powell, unknown article.

I feel that Stevie's energetic attitude and passion for music hit him deeply, I can see that by the way that the quotes are written. Cozy just loved Stevie.

So yeah, Cozy said that he did some takes for Superstition when Stevie finally wrote it down. In the case that I'm mistaken and it was Stevie who played the drums... it should have been over some Cozy's track because there's no way that Stevie could imitate his Crashing-Cymbal sound or either his drum rolls. Stevie can of course, but not will the same touch, because of the simple reason that one person is different from another.

But I still believe that it IS Cozy's take, i really do and the most important question here is: if Cozy was not who played the drums on Superstition... Why he would lie about it? He had no reason to do it so there must be some truth in his words.

And we need to remember that Superstition was originally planned for Jeff Beck Group so if it was for Jeff Beck Group, they would need Jeff's drummer which was Cozy. So I wouldn't be surprised if Stevie asked Cozy to do some takes.

And when Superstition was finally out, it was by Stevie Wonder using Cozy's take. The reason of why Stevie released it was because Motown said that it was such a great song for giving it away. Also Jeff was busy with Jeff Beck Group's break up for working on the song.

The reason of why Stevie was enlisted as the drummer is not clear, it seems like a Motown move.

So yeah, this is story, well half of it. The shit was so long with a lot of details that I didn't need for this.

I believe that it was Cozy's take, for a lot of reasons. Not because I like him (Well i do like him but the truth is the truth). Maybe it was Stevie with a Cozy guide, we don't know... and we never will.

(Unless we kidnap Jeff Beck and ask him)

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 22

Series Masterlist

Chapter 22

A/N: So I haven’t been to Greece, always wanted to. I originally planned on the entire trip being 1 chapter so it was going to be vague, but decided to break it up into a few which meant I needed some more details on locations/sights. I’m sorry if you have been there and I got some info I got wrong, I relied on google for most of it.

Summary: You and Fred begin your short vacation without Oliver. You enjoy the first couple days sightseeing and exploring the island together.

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Word Count: 4900

“Where are we going?” you question as you sit on the plane. You are about two hours into the flight, and Fred booked a small private plane to take you. The flight crew didn’t mention where you are going before takeoff and it’s driving you crazy. 

“Just going to have to wait and see” Fred says smiling and not looking up from his book. You spent the last few days in Denmark trying to get him to tell you, and this was always his response. You tried to get his mom or sister to crack while at the spa but neither would tell you. You even tried to bribe Oliver, but he responded with “I don’t know” and you believe him; only because Fred knows that your 1 ½ year old son can ‘t keep secrets.

You huff in disapproval and hear the man beside you chuckle. He places a kiss in your hair “we’re almost there babe and then you will find out. Just have to be patient.”

“Ugh you’re the worst” you joke.

The rest of your time in Denmark went really well, you spent it with his family showing the city to Oliver. You really felt like all the issues were in the past and you belonged; were a part of the family.

“Fred, did you…are we in Santorini?” you question as you step off the plane. You smell the fresh air warm salt water, looking around and see the colourful cliffside villages.

“Mhm” he hums in your ear as you take in the breathtaking views.

“Babe this is insane, it’s too much.”

“For you? My amazing girlfriend, mother of my child? I don’t think it’s enough” he says kissing your cheek.

You turn and jump into his arms “you’re too good to me” you say smiling. Fred leans in and kisses you lightly “I really am aren’t I?” he jokes earning a light laugh from you.

After a short car ride you arrive at your hotel, which is tucked in the side of a cliff. You open the door to your room and see that you are staying in a room that is actually a cave carved into a cliff. You have a massive bedroom, with doors that open up to your own private balcony. The décor in the rooms is simple, with a lot of white and some accent colours on the pillows. But you realize the space is amazing on its own and doesn’t need anything more, it speaks for itself.

You move to explore the room, but Fred grabs your hand and pulls you onto the veranda, which has its own infinity pool and overlooks the Aegean Sea. Crisp blue waters are all you can see. Fred wraps his arms around you as you lean back into his chest, “tonight we are having dinner out here while we watch the sunset” he whispers, sending chills down your spine. You tilt your head to look up at him as he places a kiss on your lips “can’t wait” you whisper.

Later that night you have showered off the plane ride, and put on your white spaghetti strap midi dress. It has a floral lace overlay that extends to your knees. You pair it with the shoes Fred bought you for your birthday.

You walk onto the balcony and see Fred in a pair of beige shorts with a navy collared t-shirt tucked in. He is setting the dinner on the table when he hears your heels on the floor causing him to look up at you.

A smile spreads across his face and he stops setting the table. “How did I get so lucky?” he says kissing your lips lightly.

“I ask myself that every day” you respond leaning in to him.

“Please, we both know you are out of my league” he laughs.

“That’s a lie babe. I’m nothing without you” you say. You move to the table and he pushes your chair in behind you, taking a seat at the chair beside you. You eat dinner looking out over the water, listening to the sound of waves crashing on the shore. You have an easy conversation, laughing and enjoying your time.

“I never asked why were you single the night we met?” he asks.

You laugh as you start eating your chicken. “What a girl like you, I just can’t believe that you were single when we met. What poor idiot messed things up with you?”

“Uhh, that would be me” you say taking a drink of wine. Fred continues to eat but has his eyes locked on you waiting for you to continue. “I had a boyfriend in high school, and another in college. Stephen, my college boyfriend and I broke up during 3rd year; I was single for a little bit. Dated a couple people, but nobody serious for a few years. Then when I was 26 I met Cody. We dated for almost 4 years; I was in love with him, thought I would marry him and have a family. Then he got offered a job in Vancouver, I knew he had applied to it so I wasn’t overly surprised. We had talked a little bit about what we would do if he did get it, about me going with him. My company has offices out there so I could have looked into a transfer, so it’s not like I wouldn’t be working. But when it became real, when it was no longer a hypothetical and I had to act on it, I couldn’t.”

“What was the problem? If you wanted to marry him why go?”

“It just didn’t feel right. I had this feeling that I shouldn’t go and I didn’t know why” you explain taking a sip of wine. “I guess it took that for me to realize I didn’t actually love him, or not in the way I thought. Because if I did love him, like 100% wholeheartedly in love… I wouldn’t have hesitated; I just wish it didn’t take me 4 years to realize I didn’t love him.

But it’s weird, because I had 4 years with him, but after like 6 months with you I made the choice to move to Pittsburgh. And that was six months that revolved mostly around sex, we weren’t even dating then. But going there felt right, not just for Ollie, but it felt like the right decision for me.”

A smile crosses his face “like you knew I was going to have an impact on your life outside of Oliver.”

“Yeah” you agree smiling. “What about you? You have girls messaging you all the time, why didn’t any of them ever lock you down?”

He laughs a little at your comment “I don’t know. I mean I’ve dated a bit in Toronto but nothing serious. I guess no girl ever had what I was looking for. I would sometimes meet up with the girls who messaged me, but they were only messaging me because of who I am. It never really turned into anything serious between us. And then I met you, and I honestly wanted to date you after our first night together.” “I’m sure you did” you say laughing.

His large hand slides across the table touching your wrist lightly “I did babe, I was upset I was rushed and couldn’t get your number. Whenever I was at Hoops those weeks after I would hope to see you; that you would walk through those doors again. It was easy to talk to you, and you didn’t know who I was which was nice too. But that night I was feeling like shit, and you made me feel better.”

“Blowjobs and sex tend to do that” you say smirking at him.

Fred laughs at that comment “Well obviously that helped. But I was going to say the conversation at the bar made feel better. Sitting there with you for those few hours that cheered me up and made my night better. If we had of went our own ways after the bar, I would have left feeling 100% better than I was when I walked in. I guess I just knew from the beginning there was something about you.”

“I think I knew there was something about you but I was too scared to admit it” you start, pausing briefly when Fred laughs “yeah I’d say.”

“After Cody I took some time, and tried to evaluate myself. I guess I just couldn’t understand why I had this man in front of me that I couldn’t love. Like he was an amazing person, every quality I thought I wanted, the kind of person anyone would be happy with. I thought something was wrong with me for it, who takes that long to realize they don’t love someone. Then with you I guess I was scared it would happen again, but this time I had to think about Oliver not just myself. I didn’t want it to happen again. To be with you and we start something together and when the time comes for me to commit I can’t do it. And then it ruins us, but not just our romantic relationship but also our parenting relationship. I… I panicked.”

“So how do you know that you’re ready now?” he asks. “Ready for me, for us?”

“Because I can’t imagine life without you, I can’t imagine not waking up to those brown eyes. The thought of not having you in my life makes me sick, not hearing your voice. I can’t imagine a life where I walk into the living room and see you and Ollie playing, or snuggled on the couch.

You are the second greatest thing to happen to me, the first being Oliver. I’ve never felt this before; I’ve never had anything that compares to this. I think a year ago, everything felt like too much all at once, I was a little overwhelmed. I don’t think I was ready to head down that road at that point in my life.

I just needed time to get there, to get out of my head. I think if we had of tried a year earlier we would still be together now and everything would be amazing, but I was overthinking everything. But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well I’m happy you figured it out, and for the record I’m not going anywhere either” he says placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He grabs your hand and pulls you over to the outdoor couch. You sit comfortably on his lap as the sun is falling towards the horizon. The once blue skies now have now turned to warm red, yellow and orange hues. You listen to the waves crashing into the shore, the waves hitting each other as a light breeze lightly moves the branches of the palm trees. Fred’s lightly strokes your side, sometimes he will place a soft kiss on your cheek or jaw as you both sit in silence.

You are the first to speak “this is amazing” you turn to look at him. “And I don’t just mean the sunset” you lightly press your lips to his. You stay outside a little while longer, wrapped in his arms until the sun fully sets the stars and the moon illuminating the world around you.

“You know seeing you in this white dress” he says shifting under you, making you feel his erection poking through his shorts “makes me think of what you will look like in a wedding dress.”

You turn and look at Fred raising your eyebrow “I’m not proposing skat. It’s just before you I never really thought about it, I was never really in a relationship where I saw it heading to marriage and kids. I almost didn’t see it happening for myself, now I find myself thinking about it randomly. I’ll be lying in bed trying to sleep, or on the plane heading to a road game, and I just start thinking of the future. What two years, 5 years, 10 years with you will look like with you.”

“One day I will be Mrs. Frederik Andersen” you whisper against his lips. “But tell me what does our future look like? What do you see for us?” Your fingers begin to lightly run through his hair as you sit and listen.

“Well I see us being married. A little girl running around playing with Oliver, and she’ll be just like you. Not just appearance but her personality, laugh, her heart; all you. She will definitely have your sass and attitude, which will be mayhem as she grows up. A puppy for you because all you talk about is a puppy.” You laugh at that comment, but he is right; you talk about it so much Oliver has even started to ask for a puppy. He starts to pepper your jaw and neck with kisses as he continues talking, “I see us in a house, the five of us on Christmas morning. You making us wear matching pyjamas, even the dog. Me pretending to hate it but secretly loving every moment of it. Playing with the kiddos in the snow, making snow angels and snowmen.”

You smile and kiss him again “does Denmark get much snow?” you ask him.

“Babe we can’t really visit during the season –“

“I know, I meant after your done hockey. When you retire we could live there. I mean if you wanted to live there.” “You would move to Denmark?” he asks you pushing some hair behind your ear. You nod in response before he continues “I never thought about the where we would live, means a lot that you would consider moving to Denmark though.”

“I mean it is your home” you say lightly.

“And Toronto is yours” he responds kissing you.

“As long as I have you I could be happy anywhere. Maybe we figure out the where later on” you say as Fred’s hands lightly stroke up the back on your arms. “What else do you see in our future?”

“I see you with grey hair” that statement causes you to wrinkle your nose slightly at the thought.

“Don’t want the grey hair?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Personally I can’t wait to be old and grey with you. Sitting on a porch swing while the grandkids run around or swim in the pool. Family barbeques and trips. I can see you going by Nana, teaching them your family cookie recipes, sleepovers and…”

“Okay, having grey hair doesn’t sound terrible now” you mumble before kissing him. You run your hands through his hair, grinding your hips against his erection. Fred groans into the kiss before his hands slide to the back of your thighs hoisting you up. You giggle and wrap your legs around his waist; he carries you to the bed where you spend a few hours tangled in each others arms before finally dozing off.

The next morning you wake up at 8:30 with Fred spooning you, he is placing soft kisses on your shoulder. You moan and shift back slightly to be pressed up against his hard chest, “morning” you mumble.

“Breakfast will be here at 10, and we have to leave at 11” he says lightly before kissing your neck one last time.

“You planned everything out didn’t you” you question pressing your ass against him. He runs his fingers up your arm kissing your neck “well I didn’t plan on any morning fun or else I would have woken you up sooner.”

You turn your head to look at him “well add it to the schedule for tomorrow.” Fred brushes some hair from your face, he engages you in a soft but passionate kiss. When he finally pulls away he has a large grin on your face “definitely sweetheart” he says to you. He pulls the blanket off of you “go get ready skat.”

Later that day you are wearing you’re favourite sundress, with your bathing suit underneath. Fred has booked a private boat tour around Santorini, and to some of the smaller nearby islands. After about 90 minutes the boat docks and you disembark at Palea Kameni, two small islands formed from volcanic eruptions. There are many large ships that resemble pirate ships in the harbour.

“The island has been building up slowly throughout time. Every eruption has deposited additional pumice to the island expanding its footprint. You have about 45 minutes to explore the area, there is even a hot spring up there” your guide says pointing to a path.

Fred quickly grabs your hand and you start the short hike. You notice that most of the landscape is barren likely due to the acidic soils caused from the volcanic eruptions, but there are some succulents sparsely across the ground. You stop at the top of a hill and take in the view, you are overlooking the bay, and to the east you can see Santorini in the distance.

No matter where you look you see sparkling blue water, Fred quickly pulls his phone out and snaps a few pictures of you two with the harbour as the backdrop while he kisses your cheek. He pulls back and puts his phone away; you lean in and kiss him, wrapping your hand arm around his neck.

Your fingers snake into his hair, his hands on your lower back as your tongues fight for dominance in each other mouths. Fred groans into the kiss, one of his hands slides further to your ass giving it a soft squeeze.

“Freddie” you squeal jumping slightly. He kisses your jaw laughing wrapping his arms around you, holding you against his chest.

“What? Nobody is here” he mumbles kissing the top of your head. After a minute he eases his grip and takes your hand and continues on the trail leading you to the hot spring. You both strip to your bathing suits, and Fred beats you to the water sitting down first.

As soon as you step into the warm water Fred shifts to give you some space beside him. Instead you walk in front of him and place your hands on his shoulder. Fred looks up at you, and you sink down onto his lap, straddling him.

You grin at him, bringing your hands up to his hair. Fred’s hands slide up your body and stop on your waist, he runs his hands up and down your back while smiling at you. You lean in gripping his hair tight and lock him in a deep kiss, your tongues fight for dominance in each other’s mouths as his as his fingers toy with the strings of your bathing suit bottoms.

You rock your hips against him, feeling him start to harden beneath you. His hand undoes one of the bows you have tied on your bottoms. His mouth moves to your neck, peppering kisses on your sweet spot. You continue to grind your hips against his erection, hand sliding down to palm him over his bathing suit when you hear some laughing from behind you. You quickly jump off him and sit beside Fred when you see a family making their way up the steps towards the springs. You casually re-tie your bathing suit bottom, the family walks by you finding a spot a few metres away.

“We should get back to the boat” Fred says to you a few minutes later. You nod and get out of the spring and dry off. You pull your dress back on and start the short trip back to the boat.

You continue on your journey and after another boat ride arrive in Thirassia, which is on the west side of the volcano. It is another island off the coast of Santorini. While the crew prepares your lunch you and Fred snorkel in the clear water.

The staff alerts you that lunch will be ready in 15 minutes, so you both return to the boat; you make your way to the private room to change and Fred follows you. Since you are done swimming for this trip you remove your wet bathing suit and wrap a towel around yourself. After you have dried yourself off you drop the towel and bend into your bag pulling out some dry underwear.

You stand up straight and can hear Fred take a deep breath and mumble some swear words behind you. Not even a second later you feel his hands wrap around you. He cups your breast and begins to massage your nipple. He bends down and nips you on your shoulder, his other hand runs up and down your stomach. Your head falls back onto his chest “babe they’ll hear” you moan.

Fred pulls you closer into him and you can feel his erection pressed into your back “you knew what you were doing when you dropped your towel” his other hand slides down and presses circles on your clit. “You knew what you were doing when you climbed in my lap in the hot springs” he says sucking on your neck.

You push your hips back, and grind against him causing him to groan loudly. “You are a very smart woman. You have known what you have been doing to me all day and you kept doing it.” His finger is lightly playing with your folds, waiting for your permission to slide in you.

His mouth attaches to your neck and sucks hard, he isn’t wrong. You two have always had a healthy sex life since you got together, but this trip is different. You don’t know if it’s because Oliver isn’t around, or the romantic feeling Santorini exudes but since you have gotten here you haven’t wanted to leave the bed. It doesn’t help that your boyfriend spends most of his time in the sun without a shirt.

You could wait until you got back to the hotel, but you don’t think you want to. His finger continues to dance around your entrance as you bite your lower lip as you grind your ass further back against him. The only thing holding you back is the fear of being heard by the boat staff. You think you are going to make him wait until later; which you know would lead to some wild sex complete with multiple orgasms and bruises on your hips. But in that moment he rolls your nipple in his fingers and bites your neck, his other finger presses hard into your clit.

“Fuck” you mumble, feeling him smile against your neck. He knows what he is doing is working, and he pushes his hips forward his erection pressed between your ass cheeks.

“What are you going to do about it” you groan unable to wait any longer. Fred quickly pushes you to the bed, you fall forward and climb up on your hands and knees sticking your ass out for him.

“Frederik” you sternly whisper as he slaps your ass. He quickly pushes two fingers inside your folds.

“You know what happens when you call me that” he growls pumping his fingers inside you. You moan loudly, when you feel his hand come around your mouth.

“You have to be quiet skat or they will hear” he says his fingers still pumping inside you.

“You have to be quick so they don’t come looking for us” you retorts. Fred pulls his fingers from you; he grabs you by the neck and pulls you up so your back is against his chest. He brings his fingers to your mouth “lick” he orders.

You open your mouth as he slides his fingers inside your mouth, while simultaneously sliding his hard cock inside your folds. You close your mouth on his fingers, groaning as you clean your flavour from him and your walls are stretched out by him.

He rocks into you slowly at first, using the rocking of the boat to guide his movements. Once he is satisfied with his fingers he pulls them out of your mouth and pushes you forward onto your hands. His hands tightly grip your hips as he pulls you back onto him.

He thrusts firmly inside you; your ass hits his pelvis as he bottoms out each time. You bite your lip trying to stifle your moan, a whimper escaping your lips. You hear Fred chuckle because he knows how hard this is for you. He continues thrusting before he increases the pace. The room is filled with the sound of your skin flapping when you can’t hold it in anymore, your mouth opens and a loud strangled groan leaves you.

“Smuk” he growls, he brings a hand to the front of your neck and pulls you back up against him. He keeps his pace, while his hand tightens its grip around your throat, restricting your airway. This causes you to stop moaning as Fred continues pumping inside you.

You are getting close, and can feel your high approaching and your walls begin to clench. “Not yet, wait for me” he whispers, you let out a loud groan in disapproval.

He quickly tightens his grip against your throat and pumps inside you; he brings a knee up onto the bed. This allows him to change the angle and push deep, pounding against your cervix with every thrust. Your ass is being pulled back against his pelvis; you feel him becoming erratic behind you. Fred releases your throat and you take in a deep breath, one you didn’t notice you needed.

His hand goes to your other hip, using it to pull you back hard into him as he chases his high. You fall forward, tightly gripping the bedsheets. Your orgasm is right there, but you want to hold out for Fred. You feel him increase the pace, your mouth falls open and a loud strangled groan leaves your mouth.

You don’t care if the crew hears you anymore; you are unable to contain yourself. The sounds leaving your mouth are filthier than a porno, but you are more focused on waiting for Fred than anything else. Fred slaps your ass which has you coming undone, you clench around him.

Your walls tighten and you hear him quietly mutter some Danish curse words before he twitches and pushes deep inside you. You fall onto the bed and Fred collapses on top of you.

“You weren’t quiet” he jokes kissing your shoulder.

“You weren’t quick” you reply laughing.

After a few minutes Fred pulls out, you both clean up and get changed before returning to the deck for lunch. You and Fred walk out hand in hand, when you walk by two of the workers shoot you a glance and have a hushed conversation. Your face immediately goes beet red, Fred squeezes your hand “it’s fine dear” he whispers as you arrive at the table for lunch.

A couple hours later you are back in the hotel and have showered. You are still embarrassed about what happened on the boat, and are tired from the hiking and your afternoon activities. Not having the energy to get ready for dinner you change into a pair of grey track shorts, you pull on a loose off-shoulder lounging shirt not even bothering with a bra or underwear. You pull your hair up in a messy bun, and apply some moisturizer to your otherwise naked face.

You see Fred sitting in a pair of shorts on the patio and make your way over to him. He hears your footsteps and looks at you, smiling as he takes you in. “I didn’t feel like getting all dressed up tonight” you explain sitting beside him.

Fred places a hand on your thigh and kisses your cheek “I don’t care what you wear, or what you look like. Could dress like this every day from now on and I wouldn’t care.”

You roll your eyes at him, but before you can respond he gently tilts your chin to look at you. He places a soft kiss on your forehead “babe I mean it. I think you are the most incredible woman out there, and I’m not with you because of how you look with your makeup on and a tight little dress. I mean I’m not complaining about the tight dresses that drive me wild, but you are so much more than your clothes. I’ve never met a more compassionate, thoughtful and selfless person in my life. Looks can fade, but that, the things that make you the person you are, that won’t change.”

Before he can continue you kiss him, you lean back on the couch and Fred follows, his hand sliding up your shirt. His hand reaches your bare breast when a knock is on the door indicating dinner has arrived. You hear him groan, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he was interrupted or the lack of clothing under your shirt.

The hotel:

White Dress:

Next Chapter

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: One Small Hitch

READ PART 1

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

summery: You and Ben have your first official date and settle into your "relationship". But, with filming coming to a close, you'll need to be more committed to the act than before, especially when Ben's keeping secrets.

Warnings: Again, nothing much. Some language. Drinking. Nothing else I can think of.

Words: 8355

AN: Chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the delay but hopefully the next part will be up faster. I'm really really enjoying writing this series and I am so very excited about what's coming! The song mentioned is Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys. Sidenote: Can anyone work out the theme of the chapter titles?

Taglist:  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​

“I’ve got something for you,” you half shouted at Ben when you saw him walking towards you from across the field you were filming in. You shuffled your shitty takeaway coffee into your other hand so you could reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper folded in half. He took it and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  “Funny cause I have something for you too,” Ben said as he let you go, reaching into his backpack and handing you a magazine, “Oh, shit, it’s our rules. You want page 15 by the way.”  “Figured you’d want a record of them. What exactly am I looking f-” you let the word hang as you found the right page. It was decorated with a photo of you and Ben kissing on his doorstep, his hand around your back, the shirt you’d borrowed riding up just enough that it was clear you didn’t have shorts on underneath as you clutched at him. There was some text beside it, mentions of your most notable roles and his, a brief description of the movie you were in the process of making, and some speculatory remarks with a couple of innuendos thrown in. The usual gossip mag fare. On the other side of the paragraph was another photo, both of you leaving set the previous Friday, hand in hand and smiling.  “We look pretty good together,” you laughed, getting only a noncommittal grunt in return. He’d suddenly become very interested in the sheet you’d handed him, staring at it like he hadn’t been there when it was written. You reread the brief article, trying not to gawk at the photographs. It certainly looked believable.   “I’ve had about four people wish us well this morning,” Ben suddenly said, seemingly pulling himself together, folding up the rules and shoving them into his back pocket, “and I’ve not been here long. It’s kinda weird having everyone know we’re together. Or think we’re together,” he quickly corrected himself.  “Yeah, Mel kept asking me questions about it while she was doing my makeup this morning, so I hope she took my awkwardness as me wanting to keep things private and not me not knowing how to answer some of them.”  Ben chuckled, “yeah, Gail gave me a bit of a grilling too. I just told her we’d been sort of seeing each other for a few weeks and had only just like made it official or whatever and she seemed to buy it.”  “Good, I told Mel the same sort of thing. Hopefully that’s enough for them.”  “I’m more concerned with what my friends are going to say. I don’t think any of them read Heat though so hopefully it doesn’t come up any time soon,”  “Lucky. My friend Felicity has the dumb site bookmarked. Checks it religiously. Bloody miracle she hasn’t called yet.”  “Better turn of your phone then,”  “And come back to a full voicemail and about a hundred texts demanding to know why I’m ghosting her?”  “Tell her you were filming. I do it all the time,” he was grinning at you and you couldn’t help but grin back as you pulled your phone out and shut it off, “atta girl,” he pulled you into his side and gave you an affectionate squeeze that you leaned into , fully aware of how many people were around you, potentially watching. It was a feeling that didn’t really let up. You knew, rationally, that everyone there was focused on their jobs, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were constantly being scrutinised, and not just for your acting. It didn’t help when Seth had to stop recording to fix a problem with the boom mic and, good-humouredly, said, “don’t worry lovebirds, we’ll have her running in a second.” Or that one of the ADs delivered your call sheets for the next day with a, “I always thought you’d be cute together.” And it certainly didn’t help when you turned your phone on at the end of the day to find a series of texts from Felicity each with more exclamation points and capital letters than the last, and a missed call from Mary.   “Better call her back,” Ben said, following you towards the carpark.  You rolled your eyes, already holding the phone up to your ear listening to it ring.  “Y/N, I was just about to try you again,”  “Sorry, Mary, I had my phone off while we were recording, what’s the matter?”  “Are you free this weekend?”  “Um yeah, I think so, why?”  “We’d like for you and Ben to go on a date this weekend. Somewhere in London preferably but it’s up to you. You saw the article in Heat? It seems to be going well. The hits your names have got on google have increased and there have been a few tweets about it. Nothing huge, you’re not trending or anything but you’re still relatively unknown so we weren’t expecting that to happen, certainly not overnight. But we think if we get a date story out quickly it’ll really help get people interested.”  You rubbed your temple as you tried to process everything she’d just said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll organise something. I’ll text you the details once I have them.”  “Okay, let me know as soon as you can though. And send Peter the info too.”  “Will do. See ya Mary.”  “Was that about me?” Ben asked, smiling as he leaned against your car.  “You up for a date this weekend? Apparently the first story went well and they want a follow up ASAP.”  “Sure, where are we going?”  “I don’t know, somewhere around London would apparently be best, but we get to choose. Any thoughts?”  He thought for a moment, “This isn’t our first date is it? Like, we’ve said we’ve been on others before, right?”  “Yeah, why?”  “Well normally for a first date I take girls out for dinner and then, depending on the girl and how the dinner went, either a quiet drink or like a romantic as fuck walk in the park or something.”  “That’s pretty standard stuff, Ben,”  “Yeah, but in the fiction of us as a couple, this isn’t our first date. This’d be, what?”  “Fifth maybe?”  “Fifth. So I’m still trying to impress you a bit, but it’s like, more relaxed. We’ve done the dinner date, we’ve done coffee and a movie, we’ve even done the Museum. Now we’re getting into the fun shit.”  “Museums don’t count as fun shit?” you chuckled, not sure where his train of thought was taking you.  “It’s a bit overdone is all.”  “What do you have in mind then?”  “There’s this place that runs art classes during the day, right? Life drawing or like painting for beginner's type stuff. But a couple of nights a week they run these art and wine nights. They’ll give you a canvas or a ceramic figure or something like that and some paints and you can have a few drinks and do something arty. I did it with some mates a while ago, had heaps of fun. Seemed like the sort of thing yo- a girl might like to do on a date.”  “That definitely sound fun.”  “Really? You’re into it?”  “Yeah, for sure.”  “Okay,” Ben pulled out his phone and began typing, “shall I book us in for the Saturday night ceramics session?”  “Go ahead. What time was that, so I can let Mary and Peter know.”  “Seven thirty. If we get a cab in a little earlier we can grab something to eat on our way.”  “Cool, okay I’ll text them. Is it BYO?”  “Yeah. They do sell some stuff but it’s a pretty small selection.”  “Okay, well that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, I should be going since I have about a million texts to sort through, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  “Wait, one thing,” Ben said before you could open your car door, “There’s a few people coming off set now so I’m going to kiss you, okay?”  “Thanks for the heads up,”  “No worries,” he stepped closer, his hand rising to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly. He took longer to break away than you’d expected, letting the kiss deepen instead, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a good kiss. And if it hadn’t been for Ben and the movie, you would have been severely lacking them recently. Which explained the vague feeling of disappointment that hit you when he did step back.  

On your way home your phone beeped with another text from Felicity but you ignored it until you were inside and changed into the comfiest clothes you could find, flopping down on your bed to scroll through what she’d written. They varied from, “omg why didn’t you tell me about this Ben guy?” to “Y/N!!! Answer my texts!!!” all the way up to, “BITCH!!! CALL ME!!!!”   She picked up on the first ring.   “Where the fuck have you been all day?”  “Some of us don’t have office jobs we hate,” you laughed, “I actually had to work, funnily enough, and because we were on location I had to keep my phone off while we recorded.”  “Well I’ve been going crazy over here. Imagine my shock when I boot up my computer and open Heat and see your fucking arse being grabbed by your co-star.”  “He was not grabbing my arse.”  “Close enough. You didn’t tell me how fucking gorgeous he is.”  “No, well, I don’t usually think about the people I work with like that, do I?”  “Which is why I was so surprised to see you’ve shacked up with one of them.”  “It’s not quite that serious.”  “One night stands aren’t your usual thing. Definitely not with guys you work with anyway.”  “I never said it was a one night stand, just that it wasn’t super serious!”  “How many times then?”  “We’ve been on like four dates.”  “You fuckhead! You mean to tell me you’re actually dating this guy, who by the way looks like he could be a fucking underwear model, and you didn’t think to tell me? No so much as a I got dicked down by a total babe aren’t you jealous message?”  “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”  “But still, I’m your best friend, I tell you about every shag I have.”  “In graphic detail,”  “Exactly.”  “Look it’s just a bit weird still. Neither of us have really hooked up with a co-star before and we didn’t want to say anything until we worked out what was happening.”  “I guess that makes sense,” you could tell she didn’t mean it, “But, now that it’s out you owe me. I want to hear all about it.”  “There’s not much to tell. We became quite good friends during all the pre-production stuff when we were rehearsing and all that. Our director wanted to make sure we clicked and had the right chemistry and stuff, since it’s a romcom and our characters get engaged in the first scene, so we hung out a lot. And then just before filming started he asked me out. Took me to this nice Chinese restaurant. It was fun so we agreed to go out again and it’s sort of just kept going.”  “Those photos, was that the first time you’d stayed over at his?”  “Second. First time was a couple of weeks ago. The night that led to the photos was just a few drinks after work with some of the others and we ended up ducking out a bit early and wound up at his.”  “And?”   “And what?” You had a hard time not laughing when you heard her groan. Her eagerness to know every sordid detail made her easy to fuck with, and that made the whole business of being secretive a lot more fun.  “And, how was he?”  “I mean…y’know,”  “Y/N, I swear to god,”  “He was good, okay? Really good,” you remembered what Ben had told you to say, trying not to laugh too much while you repeated it, “like, three orgasms good.”  “Shit, really?”  “Uhuh. And then another in the morning.”  Felicity replied with a long whistle, “shit, girl, hold onto that one then. That’s definitely worth any trouble working together could cause."  “Believe me, I know. We’re going out again this weekend.” It was surprisingly easy to lie about dating Ben. Though, of course, you weren’t technically lying since you would be going on a date.   “Shit man, date five. That’s serious shit. You better tell me everything, in graphic detail.” 

When you told Ben about the conversation the next day, admitting you’d spent ages praising his sexual prowess, he laughed and then thanked you, pulling you into a tight bear hug. You thought it was a slight overreaction considering he’d been the one to tell you what to say but his happiness was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than normal as you hung out between scenes. An attitude which could only help your performance, making people more ready to believe you were a couple. His easy laughter and bright smiles continued until the afternoon when you were telling him more about Felicity and what you’d talked about.   “She thinks you’re a keeper and kept telling me not to let you go.”  “Your friend knows what she’s talking about.”  “Lucky for you I can’t let you go since it’s all written up in a contract,”  Ben laughed but when you glanced at him his smile seemed to falter.   “You okay?”  “Brilliant. Just had a bit of a late night and it’s catching up on me. Think I might try to have a quick nap before we’re needed again.”  “I was thinking of grabbing another coffee if you want one?”  “Thanks Y/N but I think the nap will do me more good.”  “Probably better people don’t see us heading off to a trailer together anyway or they’ll suspect we’re getting up to mischief.”  “Very true. I’ll see you a bit later.”  “Sleep well!”  Ben turned to leave, his smile seeming more forced than earlier. You would have worried except he seemed to be back to normal when he was called for your next scene. And it continued on through the week, his happiness only getting more pronounced the closer it got to the weekend.  

You couldn’t quite match his energy on Friday, anxiety over your date getting stronger the closer you got to it. Hanging out at his place had been easy, even if it did include leaving half dressed. All you’d had to do was kiss him which you’d done enough times during filming that it was no longer too odd. But a proper date was something else. It was going to be the first real test you faced, the first time you’d really have to sell yourselves to the public as more than co-stars and more than a hook-up.  “Hey are you okay?”  “Huh?”  “Your jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?”  “Oh,” you forced your leg to stop moving, “nothing,”  “Is it about our date tonight?”  “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?”  “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” he muttered.  “What?”  “I’ve been worried about it too,” he said louder, “but I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?”  “Yeah I was,” you said sheepishly, “but -”  “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake. We go and have a good time painting a couple of plates or bowls or whatever, and then hold hands while we head home. They’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple.”  “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,”  “It’s okay,” he reached out to rub the back of your hand, smiling softly at you, “the nerves might actually help you look like you’re legit. And worst comes to worst we can always run lines. I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.”  “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?”  “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?”  “Theres like six, Ben,”  “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,”  You giggled and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable,”  “Oh whatever,” he pushed your shoulder almost making you overbalance, “Just cos you know the lines already.” 

Ben’s efforts to calm you down worked and you got through the rest of the workday without a hitch. Though your stomach was once again tight with nerves in the hours before the date. You spent a solid half hour standing in front of your wardrobe, freshly washed hair slowly dripping down the back of the towel you had wrapped around you, trying to settle on what to wear. When you were finally dressed you checked and rechecked the contents of your purse, and, in a moment of panic, you grabbed the heavily highlighted and notated script pages with the matchmaker scene and shoved them in beside your lipstick and bank card. By the time Ben arrived in an Uber to pick you up, ushering you into the backseat with a kiss on the cheek and a complement about how lovely you looked, you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. But, once again, Ben’s natural charm eased your mind. The way he talked to you and smiled constantly had your heart rate slowing and your stomach settling within minutes. Even the way he squeezed your hand when he helped you out of the car, and the way he laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards your destination were welcome comforts.  “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” Ben asked, stopping on a corner and looking around, annoyed people passing by on both sides.  “Uhh, s’pose so.”  “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?”  “I swear I’m not normally.”  “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” he asked, playfully.  “No, you git,” you laughed back, though you found it hard to meet his eyes, “I just don’t know I’m that hungry.”  “Well, keep in mind there’ll be wine drinking. Don’t want to do that on an empty stomach.”  “Valid argument. What’s nearby?”  After some wandering you ended up in a McDonalds, Ben wolfing down a burger while you picked at the fries, not quite certain you’d be able to keep your food down. It was when you were coming out of a bottle shop, Ben holding the wine you’d agreed on, that you spotted the photographer. It was the same one who’d been outside Ben’s house when you stayed over, camera aimed at the two of you. Quietly you nudged Ben. He just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked. You struggled to not watch the photographer as he followed you towards the art studio, having to keep reminding yourself to pretend he wasn’t there.  “Relax,” Ben said softly in your ear, “He’s not important.”  You nodded, afraid if you said anything you’d lose the meagre dinner you’d had. Ben’s thumb rubbing over your own gave you something else to focus on, counting each soft, smooth stroke, until you reached the right place.  

You weren’t the only couple there, far from it. Most of the claimed tables were taken by pairs sitting close together, hands clasped or laying on thighs as they talked. A few tables held larger groups, double dates maybe or perhaps just friends. You felt a few eyes on you as you found a table close to the clear glass of the shopfront, but they turned away again quickly, more interested in their own little bubbles than yours. You glanced outside to check if the photographer was still there but couldn’t see much more than the reflection of you and Ben. His knee bumped yours under the table as he leaned toward you, pressing a finger to your jaw to turn your head towards him.  “Forget the photographer. Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We're just two friends having a fun night out, okay?”  “Okay,”   “Okay. So what are you thinking of painting then?” He unscrewed the bottle of wine and grabbed one of the glasses you’d been handed on arrival.   “Well what are my options?”  “Well there’s your classic teacup, mug or plate options. There’s a couple of different jewellery boxes, I think. And then there are the statues, ummm, fairy, dragon, alien. Maybe a princess one, I can’t remember.”  “More than I thought there’d be. What were you thinking?”  “I did a dragon last time I was here. But I think I’m going to do a mug this time. Need some extras if you’re gonna be staying over more often.”  “Maybe we should both do mugs, then? Something we can use at each other’s places.”  “Alright, deal. But we can’t look at what the other is painting until they’re done.”  “That’s going to be so hard!” you laughed, feeling properly relaxed for the first time all night.  “Yeah but it’ll be fun though. Wait here, I’ll go grab us the mugs.”  You took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to think of what Ben might like on a mug. There was art everywhere – paintings hanging on walls, examples of what the classes could teach you, decorated ceramics lining windowsills and shelves. Judging by the wildly differing levels of talent displayed, you assumed at least some of them were left behind and never claimed. There were plates decorated with fruit trees and ocean scenes, jugs covered in splatters of different colours, aliens in shimmery blue and princesses with green hair and orange dresses. But nothing that sparked your imagination. The noise of the room was steadily growing as everyone got stuck into their creations. Ben sat down, took a drink and got to work mixing colours.  “You know what you’re going to do then?”  “I have an idea. But I will warn you I’m not a particularly good artist so it might not look anything like what it’s meant to.”  You picked up your blank mug and put it down again, tapping the end of a paintbrush against the table as you tried to come up with an idea. What did Ben like? He liked coffee. And dogs. And his guitar. More than once he’d brought it to set, playing it in his downtime. He’d been embarrassed the first time you mentioned overhearing him as you passed by his trailer, but you’d assured him you’d liked listening to him. You’d had the song stuck in your head for a week afterwards.   “Made up your mind, have you?” Ben asked, glancing up from his handiwork as you mixed a pale peach colour.  “No peeking,”  “I wasn’t peeking. If I’d been peeking, I would have done this,” Ben craned his neck, leaning over to where your mug was.   You laughed and pulled the mug closer to you, pushing him away with your other hand.  He caught it in his own, taking the paintbrush from you, “Oi, careful with that.”  “Oops, sorry,”  Ben laughed and kissed your palm before letting you have your hand back, “No harm done. But y’know if you splattered me I’d have no choice but to get payback.”  There was no need to reach for the script you’d brought as you and Ben fell into conversation while you painted. He asked if you’d had any more awkward phone calls with your friends and told you about what had happened when his mates had found out. Nothing like the conversation you’d endured, though there’d been plenty of teasing. You had to admonish him for nearly getting paint on your work when he began using the largest brush he had to artistically spray drops of paint over his mug. And then he’d laughed when you paused, admitting out loud that you weren’t actually sure how to paint the thing you’d planned on painting. He’d promised not to peek while you whipped out your phone to look up a reference image, going to far as to cover his eyes just to make sure. Once you gave him the okay he went back to painting, switching to a thinner brush and shushing you so he could concentrate. It was ridiculous how cute he looked, tongue between his teeth, bent over the mug as he slowly outlined the design. You shook your head to clear the thought and went back to your own work. 

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna see now?”  “Yes, absolutely. Unless you think we should wait until after they’ve been glazed?”  “Fuck that, we can’t pick them up for a couple of days, I wanna show you now.”  “Alright, show me then,” you put down your brush, focusing all your attention onto the mug in Ben’s hands. The base coat was a light purple, with splatters of darker purple over top. Slowly he turned the mug to show you the design on the front. It bore a slightly wonky engagement ring, similar to the one his character gave yours in the movie. On either side of the ring, in thin, not quite straight lettering, was the words we’re really good at this dating thing.   You smiled as soon as you read the quote from the script, “I love it, Ben”  “Thought it was kind of fitting,” he chuckled, “plus it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.”  “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had.”  Ben smiled and carefully turned his mug back towards him, “Best proposal I’ve ever given,” He seemed to be about to say something but stopped himself, shaking his head.  You lowered your voice, “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?”  “Promise,” Ben said, matching your level and leaning in close, “Until then maybe you can use it as a reminder whenever you feel anxious about this whole dating thing.”  “Thanks, I will.”   You were suddenly very aware of how softly you were speaking, how close you were sitting, leaning in to hear each other over the rest of the room, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you again. But then the moment passed, the noise of the room intruding as Ben leaned back in his seat, “So do I get to see mine?”  “Uh, it’s not quite done,” you said, picking up your brush again, the moment gone, “give me another couple of minutes.”  “Masterpieces take time, I get it,”  “This is by no stretch a masterpiece,”  “I’ll be the judge of that thanks very much,”  Ben turned to look out over the room while you tried to finish your painting without smudging anything, occasionally making comments about other people there or the art that decorated the room.  You took one last look at what you’d painted, the guitar with the words stun gun lullaby written in cursive beside it, “Alright, I’m done now, you can look. Careful, some of it’s still wet.”  Ben gently took hold of the handle and turned the mug so the design faced him. He broke out into a grin and you felt relieved that he liked it.   “It’s definitely a masterpiece. For someone who didn’t know how to draw a guitar you’ve done an incredible job. And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?”  “Is it? It's just the song I overheard you playing that one time. I thought that line was a good one for a mug. Nice and short so I didn’t have to paint too much.”  “This is definitely my new favourite mug.”  “Oh stop it.”  “And hey, they kind of match.”  You laughed when he pointed out the similarities, “Guess they do. Y’know that’d make a pretty cute Instagram post.”  “You going to tag me as my mug?”  “Of course. You could post a photo and tag me in it too,”  “I don’t know. I don’t really post much personal stuff online.”  “Well at least comment on mine,”  “I can do that.”  

After you’d taken a decent photo and posted it online you cleaned up, handed your mugs over to the woman running the night’s activity and stepped back out into the night. There was no sign of the photographer anywhere and you supposed he’d got what he needed and then left.   Still, Ben grabbed your hand as you walked back up the street, just in case you’d missed the photographer in the crowd.   “Guess that means we don’t have to worry about going home together,” you said, nudging Ben.  “Guess not,” his lips quirked down in a soft frown.”  “What is it?”  “Nothing, nothing, just...feels kind of weird to just end the date here, I guess,” he scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Normally I’d offer to give you a lift home. Or at least give you a good night kiss, but I guess that’s not really needed now.”  “Well, it’s like you said, we’re just friends having a fun night out. We could share a ride home though, if you wanted. You live near enough to mine it wouldn’t matter.”  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually might go grab something to eat, don’t think that burger was quite enough. See you on Monday?”  “Oh, yeah, okay, see you Monday.”   There was a pause, both of you hesitating and then Ben gave you a much too quick hug before he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You sighed and hailed a passing cab, spending the whole ride home wondering what the hell had just happened. But you pushed it from your mind once you were home, going through your usual nightly routine and very deliberately thinking of anything other than Ben. It didn’t help much. You still dreamt about him. Dreamt about the goodnight kiss you’d missed out on.    

When you woke you had to laugh at yourself. You were sure that, had you binged a few episodes of a tv show or read something before you’d gone to bed you would have dreamt about it instead. Brains were suggestable like that. When you felt awake enough you rolled over and grabbed your phone finding a text from Ben and one from Felicity and an email from Mary. You opened Mary’s first, skimming over it and vowing to look at it properly once you had a coffee in your system. Ben’s was much easier to understand, a short message to say he had fun last night and that he’d pick the mugs up on his way to work on Monday. Felicity’s was just a series of question marks. You sent back a short response saying the date had been a lot of fun. It wasn’t enough and she was bound to come back at you asking for more details, but it would have to satisfy her. Slowly you got out of bed and made yourself a coffee, setting your laptop up next to you at the kitchen counter so you could try to read Mary’s email again. There was some information about some scripts she was going to send you, a couple of potential future roles, but the majority of the email was about you and Ben. She’d already seen the photos, apparently, and some of them would be run in the coming week’s magazine while others were being put online. She’d also seen the Instagram post and commended you for thinking of it. Another date would have to be organised, but it was better to wait until the next weekend or even the one after, so as not to fatigue the public.  

So you and Ben fell into the routine of it. An email from one or other of your agents sometimes as vague as just telling you to organise a date, sometimes much more specific in what they wanted you to be doing, then the date itself, and in between work where you played up the romance as much as possible. You got good at pretending to stay over at each other's places, often just hanging out watching TV or running lines until the photographer called it a night and you were free to leave. Once or twice you’d opted to sleep in your own bed but get up early and head over to Ben’s for the required morning after shots but that process got old very quickly so you ended up actually staying over more and more. There was one day when your period came unexpectedly while you were at Ben’s. You were halfway through asking him to take you home when he offered to run to the store for you instead.  “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that, I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today.”  “Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” When you still weren’t convinced he continued, “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.”  “Oh alright, as long as you don’t mind.”  He was out the door a second later and back within ten minutes, though you did get a call from him at the shop, asking what brand you preferred. Once he was home, he made you a cup of tea, gave you a painkiller and, after checking you didn’t mind, cuddled up with you on the couch, teasingly calling you his cuddle bunny as he pulled you back against his chest. You almost complained, almost cited Rule 5, but it wasn’t so bad. Some might even go so far as to call it cute. It was better than snookum at any rate.  

 The dates themselves got easier after the first. You knew what to expect now so it wasn’t as nerve wracking as before. And Ben was always fun to be around, your list of inside jokes steadily growing as he became the one person you spent the most time with. You let yourselves relax a bit. On your third date Ben’s arm stayed glued around your waist as you walked around the zoo, only losing contact when a lemur jumped on his shoulder and you stepped back to take a photo. It wasn’t low enough to violate the rules you’d put in place but his hand was dangerously close to falling below your belt, and it was definitely something you would have put a stop to when you first started the charade. The Instagram posts had got more frequent too, though Ben still refused to post anything to his own profile. But he commented on everything you posted whether it involved him or not. And people were buying it. You’d been moved from page 15 to page 13 and then to page 10 in the magazines. You both picked up more followers online as your photos were shared across Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr. There were some downsides like rude comments and nasty messages but mostly they were easy to ignore. Worse were the phone calls and messages from family members and friends asking when they’d get to meet Ben. He’d had to fend off his own family as well, but you both stuck to Rule 4, making up excuses and promising it would happen eventually, but it just wasn’t possible right now. But your biggest problem was the issue of intimacy. It wasn’t the lack of sex itself, that was easily managed. It was that Ben had started to intrude on your fantasies. You’d be there with your fingers or your toys and suddenly it was Ben’s voice you were thinking of, Ben’s hands, Ben’s teeth and tongue and chest. Ben’s name falling from your lips. And you knew it was just because you were pretending to date him, on and off set. It was the dumb suggestable brain thing again. The thoughts were only there because you were pretending to be in love with him and usually sex was tied up with love or at least relationships. And really, you hadn’t been attracted to anyone much lately because you hadn’t been looking because you’d been pretending to be attracted to Ben so it’s really no wonder you’re brain got all confused and mixed him into those other thoughts. The first time you saw him after it first happened you wondered if he could tell, a slightly flustered awkwardness hanging over you. But it wasn’t worth mentioning to anyone. You just vowed to push him out of your mind as much as you could.  

Nearly two months later you found yourselves back in the office where the idea of pretending to date was first floated. With filming drawing to a close Mary and Peter were keen to check in with you. The first thing either of them said when you and Ben turned up is how well the story was going.  “Projections have the sales for this movie increased by five percent, just because of your relationship and that number is expected to grow as we get closer to release,” Mary spoke fast though whether that was excitement at the boosted numbers or just a busy schedule rushing her along you weren’t sure.  “What happens now?” Ben asked, “I mean, since we won’t be filming together anymore after this week,”  “That’s exactly why we wanted to talk with you both today,” Peter opened a pocket notebook and thumbed through a couple of pages, “so not much will change but we may occasionally need to balance out the loss of on set photos with shots of you out and about together. Nothing stressful and all very easily staged. You probably wouldn’t even need to be out for more than an hour or so at a time. People have been loving the domestic sort of photos you’ve been putting online, Y/N, that one of you using the coffee mugs you painted was especially good. So we’d like a few more of those sorts of moments. The two of you grocery shopping or walking a dog, do either of you have a dog? No? Hmmm, we could hire a dog and write a story about you sitting for a friend. We’ll put a pin in that for now. But yes, just some candid shots of you walking around London and doing regular everyday things together.”  “We’ll also need to schedule the argument soon. We’re thinking somewhere within the first two weeks of filming being over. It means we can run speculation about whether the relationship is on the rocks now that you aren’t working together anymore. We’ll see how things go this week and make some decisions later, but we’ll give you plenty of warning before you have to perform it. Obviously, it has to be scheduled so we can guarantee someone will get photos but we need it to seem as natual as possible so we’ll leave the specifics of the argument up to you.”  You nodded along but Ben had more questions.  “What does this mean for any jobs we might be looking at taking after this movie wraps?”  “You can still take on whatever roles you want provided they’re filming here. It’s harder to keep you in the public eye if you’re separated and while the drama of a long-distance relationship might be interesting at first, it’s not sustainable.”  “If it was filming somewhere else in the UK we could maybe organise something. We’d have to look into it and see if it was possible to stick to our same plan but just shift the location. Maybe have a weekend visit angle to it, Y/N flies out to see Ben, Ben comes home to see Y/N, that kind of thing.”  “Leave it with us Ben and we’ll get back to you on the logistics of it all.”  “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have anything set in stone, I was just curious.”  “Is there anything else you have questions about?”  “No, I don’t think so,” He looked towards you.  “No, I’m all good.”  “Okay, well, if you think of anything you can message us any time.”  “Really, though, this is going very well. It’s already paying off but we need to keep the momentum during the post-production phase, so we need you both to be committed to this.”  “We are.”  “Unbelievably committed,” Ben added. 

You and Ben left the meeting joking about potential arguments you could have and for the rest of the day, whenever you passed each other in the halls or had a moment alone you’d try to one up each other's suggestions. It was a good way to keep your spirits up even though the end of filming was fast approaching. One by one each cast member recorded their last scenes, saying an emotional thank you to the crew when the director called cut. You and Ben were the last to finish since you were the leads. A small pillow talk scene that you could do in your sleep. It was a nice way to end it, lying in bed with Ben’s arms around you, even with the heat of the studio lights. While you were waiting for the cameras to be positioned you and Ben joked around with the crew that were flitting around angling mics and adjusting set decorations.   “Hey, Seth,” Ben said suddenly, “can you pass me my phone. I think we need to document this moment. What d’you say, cuddle bunny?”  You laughed and poked him in the side but agreed. Ben stuck his arm straight up into the air, trying to angle the camera just right but he couldn’t quite get the photo to take without blurring. Seth took pity on you and offered to take the photo himself, allowing you and Ben to snuggle in close.  “If you post it on Insta you better credit me,” Set laughed, turning it round to show you.  “I’ll do that,” He said with a smile, “It’s pretty cute, I think I have to post it.”  “Really?” you asked, surprised he’d volunteer to do such a thing.  Ben didn’t have a chance to respond because everything was ready to go. Seth put the phone back away so you could film the scene, laughing in between takes until everyone was satisfied.   “That’s a wrap on Ben Hardy and Y/N Y/L/N everybody,”  A round of applause started as you pushed yourself to sit up, trying to stop yourself from welling up.  “And that’s a wrap on The Perfect Match.”  The applause continued and Ben pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You had to say a few words but you managed to get through it, and Ben’s little speech, without completely losing it. Afterwards, as people packed up the equipment and you headed back to your trailers to change, Ben pulled out his phone again.  “I guess I should post that photo now, how’s this caption,” he said each word slowly as he typed it out, “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.”   “Did you tag me?”  “Of course,”  “Did you tag Seth?”  “Uhhhh, camera emoji by @seththesoundman. Now I have,”  “Then it’s perfect. Little bit cheesy but I’ll let it slide.”  “I’ll post another lot of photos with everyone else later and write a longer thing about how much fun this movie was and all of that, but I think this’ll do for the minute. Mary and Peter better fucking appreciate it.” 

That evening most of the cast and crew headed out for drinks at the local pub. The official party would come later but everyone needed to get out and celebrate for an evening. You and Ben stayed for a few hours, Ben getting a little more clingy with each drink he finished. You limited yourself to only a couple. Ben wasn’t going to be able to drive so you decided to fall on that sword, switching to water quite early on. When he reached the point of intoxication that had him constantly complementing everyone you decided to call it a night, taking a final lap to say goodnight to everyone. There were a few wolf whistles and slurred comments about getting some as you left, Ben’s arm around your waist and his laugh in your ear, but you waved them off and led Ben out to your car.   “C’mon Benny boy, I’ll drop you home.”  “What about my car?”  “Well you’ll have to come get it in the morning, won’t you.”  He hummed and lay his head against the back of the seat, chatting animatedly as you made the trip to his. You wished him goodnight as he got out of the car and watched him make his way up to his front door. There he paused, patting his pockets.  “Everything alright? You called out to him.  “I don’t have any keys,” he laughed, turning around to come back to the car.  “You fucking goon, did you leave them at the pub?”  “Guess so,” he shrugged, “Can I crash at yours?”  “Get in,”  “Thanks cuddle bunny, you’re the best”  You rolled your eyes, “Guess this means I’ll be your taxi tomorrow, running you around to find your keys and your car,”  “That’s what girlfriends are for,”  “If you say so.”  

Once at yours you headed to the kitchen to make tea, Ben following to grab a glass of water and a snack. He knew where you kept everything by now, making himself a sandwich with whatever he found in your fridge, and then carrying it out to the couch. By the time the teas were made Ben already had Netflix queued up, ready to play the next episode of the series you’d started watching together. Nearly Twenty minutes into the episode Ben’s phone dinged.  “Ah shit,” he said as he glanced at it, “forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep? We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.”  “Sure,”  “I promise I won’t be long.”  “Take your time, it’s fine,” you were already reaching for your laptop.  Ben smiled at you before ducking out of the room. You head him walking down the hall, footsteps fading as he got further away. For a while you just enjoyed the quiet as you checked your emails and social media profiles but after commenting on the photo Ben had posted and replying to a few messages from people you knew there wasn’t really much left to do. You drummed your fingers on your keyboard trying to think of another website you could visit. There was still no sign of Ben and you didn’t want to continue the show without him so you stood up, stretched, and headed back to the kitchen to grab some chocolate from the stash you kept. You were just about to shut the fridge when you heard Ben’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. Your spare room where he’d clearly gone to make his phone call.   “Yeah, Joe, I fucking know. But I don’t have much choice.” He sounded more sober than he had when he’d got up. There was a pause as Joe spoke and then you heard Ben again.  “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess…..Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it…. What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.”  There was a long pause. You quietly shut the fridge and took a step back towards the doorway. This was not a conversation you should be listening in to. But then Ben spoke again, and curiosity got the better of you.  “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel.” He laughed but it was completely devoid of humour, “Of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit, man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening…... No, I know it’s completely one sided…..No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew…. I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her but it fucking sucks that it’s only in public….. I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will ma-”  You could feel your cheeks burning as you tiptoed back towards the lounge room, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You paced back and forth for a moment before deciding to go to the bathroom, at least then Ben couldn’t walk in on you as you tried to process it. You let the door shut loudly behind you, hoping that if Ben had heard movement he’d think you’d just got up to use the loo. He couldn’t know you’d overheard him. You leaned against the sink and tried to make sense of what you’d heard. Ben couldn’t have a crush on you, he just couldn’t. But it was the only thing he could have been talking about. What the fuck did that mean for your arrangement? What the fuck were you meant to do now?

[ryuichirou]

I’ve been following for a couple months but I’m confused how this account works? So there are two people running the account do you both draw or is one coming up with ideas and the other draws?

Yeah, there are two of us here! :) Roughly speaking, I (Ryu) am the artist and my gf (Katsu) is the mastermind lol for the lack of a better word

Technically it’s my blog, but idk, everything I draw is always linked to our conversations, plus Katsu helps me A LOT with the replies, analysis and overall managing of this account, so it’s fair to say that it’s our blog.

When I reply to asks, it usually goes like this: we discuss the question a little bit (sometimes we don’t), then I write a reply, then Katsu checks it before posting to add some stuff that I forgot to mention + correct my grammar. Then I read it again to see what these new things are. Sometimes Katsu adds sentences with additional info which look as if I wrote them (<- like this one ;3 and the rest of this paragraph is written by Katsu) in order not to confuse everyone and to keep them from one-person perspective. We actually use “we” most of the time because we do all this stuff together, but it sounds fucking creepy when a person starts saying “we” out of nowhere, that’s why I, Katsu, hide behind Ryu’s name to keep things simple. The only reason for us to divide is when our experiences differ and we need to mention it since I influence Ryu’s perception, and Ryu influences mine. It’s hard to explain, but we have mostly the same experiences, but it’s still has differences, but these differences is something that plays a role in our shared experience... Damn that’s impossible to understand lol I can’t draw for shit btw.

When it comes to drawings, these are mostly our shared ideas too. Plus, most of the things that I post Katsu watches me draw. I prefer drawing together because I’m more focused this way + Katsu is always here to help me with advice when I’m stuck or to suggest things or to tell me if I’m messing up the anatomy and other things lol

Katsu also comes up with the 96% of the ideas behind our AUs, especially the plot (which they usually have). Some details are born in the discussions that we have of course, plus all the visuals are on me, so yeah it’s a collaborative work to some degree.

I hope it’s clear how it all works now lol sorry if I sound confusing

[luci-cunt]

Tell me about Magneto🤭

MAY YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT IM KISSING YOU SO PASSIONATELY RIGHT NOW

Ok so listeeennnn tooooo meeeee, okokokok, so a while ago I went on this James McAvoy bender--don’t ask--and I saw he was in the X-Men movies, whic hi haven’t watched since the Wolverine movies/ Last Stand when I was like, actually a baby. So anyways I flipped them on thinking “yeah what could go wrong?” except I watched them in the wrong order

Anyways here’s an essay on why neither Erik or Prof X was right and the actual answer would be to compromise and these movies how how because they’re both too stubborn and couldn’t it destroyed their friendship and fucked everything up. 

Also the fact that X-Men: First Class is the best Villain origin story to ever cross the screen.

Ok so spoilers ahead for X-Men: Days of Future Past and X-Men: First Class

Now, it should be noted that I’m no an X-Men expert I just love these two movies. 

So for some context: First Class and Days of Future Past are both kind of prequels, except DoFP is a prequel-sequel?? becuase of time travel?? I’ll explain don’t worry. The point is, they take place in the past where all the characters are younger. James McAvoy plays Professor X (who I’ll just be calling X for this whole thing), Michael Fassbender plays Magneto (aka Erik), oh and Jennifer Lawrence plays Mystic--who will be appearing in this essay XDD. 

Alright so first of all have a plot summary: DoFP is about Wolverine getting sent back in time so he can convince a younger Prof X to stop Raven (aka Mystic) from getting caught by this guy Trask who then uses her DNA to create super weapons that irradiate all mutants. The current future Wolverine is in, he, prof X, Magneto, and a few other mutants are trying their best to survive but it’s a losing battle and their only hope is to literally change the past. 

This one takes place after the events of First Class, which I will now explain. 

So in First Class a younger Prof X and Magneto team up to find and recruit bb mutants to X’s school because the government wants to use Mutants to help fight the Russians (oh head this takes placee in the 1960′s right before the Cuban Missile Crisis). This is essentially a Magneto origin story and also--in my opinion--the best villain origin story to ever cross the screen. 

OK so now some details on our main characters: 

Magneto/ Erik Lehnsherr: a literal holocaust survivor who’s only goal in the begining of the story is hunting/ killing nazi’s, specifically one nazi who tortured him specifically and I will get into him later don’t worry. 

Professor X: super smart rich white boy with a heart of gold but also enough naivete to make a lamb look like a Stephen King character. 

Already you can see very stark differences between the two of them. Erik is set up as being a staunch pessimist while X is a vivid optimist, and that makes sense. X’s grown up sheltered and never wanting for anythign while Erik suffered a trainwreck of the greatest traumas in human existence hitting him over and over and over again from like age fucking 9. 

Ok also tehre’s J-Law’s character Raven, who is a mutant that can change her skin to look like anythign she wants it to but her actual form is blue/ scaly/ “not pretty” (bullshit but ok). She met X when she broke into his house one night to steal some food and then they became friends, their relationship will become important later but for now that’s all u need to know. 

ok so anyways, in the begining of First Class Erik is hunting + killing Nazi’s, specifically looking for this one called Schmidt because when Erik was little he and his family were carted away to a concentration camp where Schmidt witness Erik use his metal bending powers and decided to “train” him. aka physically/ mentally abuse him for years. The whole thing starts with Schmidt trying to get Erik to lift a metal coin with his mind, when he can’t (because he’s a child who didn’t even know he had his powers until literally hours ago) Schmidt puts his mother’s life on the line and when he still can’t Schmidt kills her. This sends Erik it’s a rage and he crushes some nazi heads but then Schmidt is still standing and mentions how “oh gotcha, so it’s rage and pain that’s the key to your powers huh?” anyways this tidbit and the coin will become important later trust me--

Meanwhile Prof X is graduating from Oxford/ generally being an idiot pretty boy. He’s a telepath who knows about his powers and has used them from an early age. He also wrote some big paper on mutants, which gets the attention of an FBI agent who witnesses the villains being mutants and wants his advice

However, the villains just so happen to be Schmidt, who’s going by “Shaw” now, so when X and the agents catch up to him Erik is already there and on a mission to murder his ass. Some bs happens, Erik tries to pull a submarine out of the water but can’t (T-T this will be important) and X jumps into the water to stop him because the mental stress is literally killing him. 

That’s how they meet. 

It’s important to note: up until this point, Erik didn’t know there were other mutants, so meeting X, who’s friends with Raven, is kind of a big deal for him. He and X become very fast friends and also have a very homoerotic montage where they become dads for a bunch of mutant teenagers, because they realize they can use X to track all these baby mutants, collect them, and train them so they don’t grow up fearing their powers. 

Anyways, the other thing about this is that now that Erik has this newfound group of people that are just like him, he’s opening up, and X is helping him realize he’s actually so much more powerful when he taps into happy memories rather than fueling himself on pain and rage. This scene always makes me sob oh my god--

Also, fellas--is it gay to “access the brightest cortex” of your homies memories and remind him that hate and pain are not good motivators before reminding him that he has good memories he can draw on and showing him that his life has not been entirely painful?

YEs, the answer is yes are u shitting me??

ok so anyways--something to note about this is that X and Erik are both very protective of all their new kids, but Erik is especially so. I’m going to be getting into this more but just tab thsi thought for later :)

Now, the plot’s kicking up a bit, because it’s at this point that Erik and X capture one of Shaw’s (aka the nazi’s) main lackies and they question her until she gives them the info that Shaw’s planning on using the Cuban Missile Crisis tensions to start a nuclear war to wipe out all humans so that only mutants survive in the new world. 

Obviously they want to stop him, but also, you can kind of tell that Erik is not totally against this plan, which only gets to be more later but that’s for later. 

Right now I wanna take a quick break to talk about Raven--aka Mystic, aka J-Law. She and X were childhood friends and she kind of clung to him because she doesn’t have family/ anyone she can really be herself around besides him. 

X insistently says throughout the movie he sees her as a sister, but it’s kinda obvious she’d be down to fuck. She has this big plotline where she keeps trying to get X to understand why it’s so frustrating for her to have to be using energy to look “human.” Because her natural form is the one with the blue skin. X doesn’t understand this because his power is easy to hide, it’s simple for him to just fake-human and have no one be any wiser, Raven, however, doesn’t have that luxury and when she tries to explain this to X it just flies over his head, insisting she hide her natural self to better fit in if that’s what she really wants. 

Queue Erik, who comes in as a king of self love. He’s pretty blunt about it, but his point is basically “you’re wasting energy by constantly pretending you’re something you’re not--stop” and she responds essentially with “yeah but then no one will like me” to which he responds “then make them.”  

Raven’s relationship with both the boys is used through both First Class and DoFP to really highlight their faults. X believes humans and mutants can coexist but he thinks we go about doign that by completely ignoring the pages of history of abuse mutants have suffered--and it’s mostly because he hasn’t experienced it. 

Erik on the other hand will do everything and anything he possibly can to protect his new family/ people, and in his head that means exterminating any and all threats. By the end of the movie--humans become one of those threats. 

The point of this whole ramble is that: they both represent utter opposites, BUT, X’s blind optimism and Erik’s blind pessimism are equally bad.

Ok so back to plot for a second to prove this. 

Shaw is revealed to be a mutant himself and he also has a helmet that can block telepathy. (yes it’s the magneto helmetjasjd;fkjaskl;dfjasldkj jsut wait).

His plan’s complicated but basically: he’s going to poke America and Russia until they pop and incite a nuclear war. And it works. The whole pre-climax of the film sees X, Erik, Raven, and the other mutants all working double time to stop Shaw’s plan (AND IT INVOLVES ERIK SUCCESSFULLY PULING A SUBMARINE OUT OF THE WATER!!! BECAUSE NOW HE’S USING HAPPINESS INSTEAD OF ANGER/ PAIN!!!). 

Anywho, they’re doing all this, but then some bullshit happens, the plane they’re on crashes oh and -- yeah there’s this part where Erik uses himself as a seatbelt for X it’s fantastic but anyways--

This is finally the climax of the film. 

Also possibly the greatest scene in film history in my humble opinion. 

Because listen--in order to stop Shaw they need the helmet off of him so that X can telepathically freeze his ass and they can arrest him or whatever. So they split up--Erik rushes into the wreckage to find Shaw and X stays behind ready to freeze the guy as soon as the helmet comes off but--

Well, vengence is just too tempting. 

So when Erik gets Shaws helmet off, X freezes the guy, and he’s ecstatic, at least until he realizes Erik plans on killing Shaw. 

He’s pleading with Erik because this is vengence and he can’t chose that but Erik just puts on the helmet and--taunts Shaw, pulling out the coin Shaw taunted him with all those years ago and in a mimickry of the game Shaw forced him to play as a child and killed his mother over--he slowly floats the coin at Shaws head, telling him “I’m going to count to ten, and all you have to do is move.” 

But he can’t--because X is holding him--and that’s the point, Erik wants him as helpless as he was, and X can’t let his hold on Shaw go because that would mean putting Erik in danger but he’s also in Shaws head so he feels the coin go through his head as though Erik was doing it to him and the fucking cinematography in this scene is so fuaksdjf;laksjd;fjasd;lkfjadsl;asdjf;ljL:DKJFL:SDKJFL:D KFUCKKKKK

This scene is cinematic perfection don’t fucking lOOK at me unless you agree.

T-T and then, it only gets worse, because now Erik’s finally finished his original purpose--killing the man who killed his mother and ruined his life--and now he’s got a new one, aka protecting his new family aka the mutants. 

AND HE’S ONLY PROVEN RIGHT THAT HUMANS ARE A THREAT BECAUSE THEY TURN AND TRY TO KILL ALL THE MUTANTS IN THE PLANE CRASH AND JSUT--

And so he stops all the missiles flying their way, and turns them around on the humans and X has to stop him but he’s not listening and the rawest fucking line in the whole movie comes when X says

“There’s hundreds of men on those ships--innocent men. They’re just following orders!” 

And Erik simply replies, “I’ve been at the mercy of men ‘just following orders’--never again.” 

And then he goes to blow up the shipsthen one of the other characters goes to shoot Erik and he deflects the bullet wtihout thinking right. into. X’s. back. 

Paralysing him. 

And just akjd;fjasdflkjasd;lfkj this scene speaks for itself

Listen just--akjdsf;ljasdlk jguys this movie has no right being this good.

And then the movie closes off with X and Erik literally begging one another to just see it their way--because they both want so badly to be on the same side but they’re too stubborn and they refuse to see compromise and just ajkdf;lja;sdkfja;sdljkfsadlkf

Ok I realize now that I barely talked about DoFP but this is already so long. The major things I was going to bring up was teh absolutely fantastic bitter exes energy that McAvoy and Fassbender bring to that movie it’s excellent but also the fact that X is literally the only person Erik goes out of his way not to kill despite standing directly in the way of Erik’s goal. 

Like, you remember my whole deal with Raven??? yeah that’s x10 in DoFP (which takes place quickly after this movie) yeah so her and Erik are close, and shown to be close, but the second he thinks she endangers his fam he literally 180′s so quick and tries to straight up murder her. 

BUT HE FUCKING BENDS THE BULLET AROUND X’s HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! X!!!!!!!!!! WHO’S LITERALLY 100% AGAINST HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST

Ok, that’s all. By the way I don’t want to like, up your expecations too much because I actually kind of hate X-Men: First Class almost as much as I love it?? it’s very..... of it’s era, and cheesy, and dumb--but fucking magneto you guys holy SHIT

[canttelliotte-blog]

Incredibly long, overly detailed post I spent too much time on.

Tl:dr AITA for telling someone they were coming off as an ungrateful, privileged asshole who didn't seem to recognize or truly appreciate what they have? I blew up after a series of encounters, they seemed oblivious to their lifestyle and support and how truly different life could have turned out without it. I called them out after weeks of trying to be empathetic but couldn't take how helpless they were acting when I would kill for the kind the support they were complaining about and taking for granted.  

I should use a throwaway because I know this person will probably see this but I don't have the energy. I'll try to keep this short (actually super long sorry) I feel like I already know I was sort of harsh and out of line. This whole thing has just been sticking with me and I feel really messed up about it.  

Alright, so context, back story. I had a breakdown in February and tried to kill myself. By some miracle, I got a bed at one of the best mental hospitals on this side of the east coast. After a long history of chronic mental illness, being on disability for years with medicare, getting an opportunity like this was amazing. I had been on waiting lists for months before my attempt, but fate, acuity, and availability all lined up. A true miracle. Unless you have a family with money or amazing health insurance, getting a bed is just extremely difficult at this particular facility.  

The reason being, they provide real treatment. Comprehensive, attentive, life-saving treatment. They actually provide real care with empathy, actual therapy, psychiatry, and groups, with educated staff, real food to eat, world-renowned providers, and treatment teams that listen and work with you to come up with effective long-term solutions/aftercare plans that set you up for long term success.  

Out of pocket, this place is unfathomably expensive. The more exclusive programs on-campus are for the ultra-elite/ ultra-wealthy, taking celebrities like Selena Gomez. The institution itself is known for its education and research. It is not funded by the state like almost everywhere else. Most state-run facilities are atrocious. a disgusting holding cell, where you're stripped of your clothes, dignity, and rights, fed prison food, overmedicated, physically and chemically restrained, only to be thrown back on the street in 3-5 days with no aftercare, med refills, or plan. Been there, done that, many times, not the point. The point was, I got some really helpful expensive ass treatment by the luck of the draw.  

While I was there, I met someone lovely. We instantly connected and expressed interest in one another. They seemed really cool, we talked at length about income inequality and how unfair it was that this kind of treatment wasn't the norm or easily accessible and how unfair that was. They seemed passionate and bright and we got along great. They were set to discharge only a few days after I got there, so we exchanged info before they left. We talked a bunch while I was still there (my discharge was a couple of weeks later) and decided to go on a few dates after I got out.  

A few days after I got out, I unintendedly overdosed, confused about my meds, and was incoherent by the time I got to the ER. I was restrained and chemically sedated. I was confused and fought so was deemed severely acute, and got sent to a state-run facility similar to what I described above. It was all very traumatic and I shut down once I got home. I was lucky I made it out semi-okay, that they let me out at all.  

I wasn't replying to anyone's messages but the person I had met kept reaching out wanting to hear from me and make sure I was okay. I was embarrassed but it was really sweet and soon we starting talking a lot again and really connecting.  

As I got to know them, I definitely thought they were very cool, we seemed to have a lot in common, they made me laugh and we got along really well. I was really digging them and saw us potentially becoming a thing.  After talking for some time, we decided to anxiously have our first date. It went okay but something was off.  

I didn't really pick up on it at first but the more we talked, the more privileged they offhandedly revealed they were. I know it's judge-y and lame, but that kind of put me off. I've been poor my whole life and struggled hard for everything, it's a whole different world living in poverty, so it made me a bit uncomfortable.  I still live in poverty, on disability, with food stamps, and can barely hold it together enough to have a part-time job, but I have no choice. It's rough. I've been homeless, lived in institutions, went through foster care, and have no familial support. I have one of the most serious debilitating mental illnesses. It's been very very hard.  

I am biased but I haven't met anyone well off who gets it. Some people don't realize how hard things can be when you've really had nothing, and had to work hard for everything. Even simple things are taken for granted, not understood, or there are miscommunications or assumptions made due to the lack of understanding. That's just my personal experience, it's hard trying to explain things and it's invalidating sometimes, it can be hard to relate or connect due to the lack of understanding.  

Honestly, though, it took me by surprise. We had both talked passionately about the struggles of being on disability, the importance of income inequality, how unfair the system is set up, the barriers against the poor receiving adequate mental health treatment. They explained how they advocated for social justice and regularly went to protests. I felt dumb because I did meet them at higher-end facility, but I assumed they ended up there by dumb luck as I did with how they presented and initially came across.  

They made it seem like we were in the same boat, poor af, chronically mentally ill, and 4 ever struggling. It was just a surprise because that was very much was not the case.  

They moved up here from Florida, (where admittedly their life was much harder and different), but since moving, they were being supported by their aunt and uncle, who were very, very well off. They had a very expensive private practice psychiatrist, multiple treatment providers, and an apartment in a very well-off area, that their aunt owned, so they paid no rent.  Their car/insurance/phone everything was paid for.  

They seemed to have money to burn, dancing around being well taken care of and not really having to worry. They were on disability though receiving payments and food stamps in addition, not reporting the assistance from their family. When I lightly inquired, they said their grandmother mostly controlled their finances and they didn't deal with bills etc. They spent freely, getting take out almost every night, etc. enjoying all the pleasure of life without a second thought.  

I was uncomfortable with this like I said, but they did seem cool and understanding, we did get along and I wanted to give them a chance. I put my biased experience aside and tried to give it a go.  

First example that really blew me away was their dog. They had several animals, including a cat and two dogs. Even for someone working, three animals is a huge expense. I only have one cat and while she's my world, it gets hard sometimes. The vet is expensive, litter, food, treats, it adds up. And she's only one animal!!! I provide for her and take care of her, but a $350 vet bill still packs a punch. Of course, I pay it, she's my baby, but it might mean only eating sandwiches for a few weeks. I love her, so I sacrifice, she is worth it in every way, but animals are expensive and a lot of work/responsibility.  

When this person and I first started seriously talking, they mentioned the dog they were closest to was very sick with a rare condition. I don't know the full details, but I guess it took a while for the vet to figure out what was wrong, he was on a lot of medications, needed loads of tests and scans. There were weeks of extensive treatments/ blood transfusions, all in a long, painful, and strenuous attempt to save him. They tried for a long time in the hopes he would get better.  

He, unfortunately, passed away a few weeks after we started talking. It was devastating to them and I tried my best to be supportive and help them grieve. They were understandably at a huge loss. Their mental health tanked. Their dog meant the world to them, I understand that completely. Pets are family.    

A few weeks after he passed. They were talking a little about the course of treatment and how hard it had been and what a long, painful road it was. They kind of casually remarked that his treatment cost over $20,000.  

I honestly thought I had misheard. I had to ask twice because I thought they meant $2,000. No. $20,000. $20,000.Holy shit.    

I just...$20,000 is what I make in a year. A year. Dogs are family, I totally, totally get that. People will do anything to save their loved ones. A pet is like an uninsured child, even with pet insurance, it can be expensive. I get that. If you have that kind of money, you pay it, without a thought, no problem.  

I just... wow. I still couldn't even wrap my mind around it. My cat is my world but it breaks my heart to say, if anything happened to her like that, it would kill me, but I would be forced to put her down. I just couldn't believe, $20,000. And they said it like, no big deal, of course, like anyone would/could afford that, it was obvious, a no-brainer. I just...wow.  

Next, kicker. I  came over to hang out one night and watch movies. I had never been to their apartment before. They claimed it had been super messy and they made a big deal about how they had cleaned for me. Sweet, but unnecessary, I get mental illness is tough. It was two bedrooms, all to themselves, decent space and light, but definitely scattered and cluttered. They had a huge king-sized bed, a bidet in the bathroom, and a super nice living room set up. Big comfy couch, loads of nice blankets, and honestly the biggest tv I had ever seen. They joking bragged about having all the streaming options. No kidding. Hulu, Disney plus, Netflix, Amazon, HBO, Paramount, and at least half a dozen more I hadn't even heard of. It just seemed crazy and excessive paying for that many streaming services every month.  But to each their own I guess.

We were both huge fans of anime, and they sort of decided to venture to studio ghibli. They asked if I had seen a particular favorite of theirs. I hadn't. They searched and it was only available to rent. $17. I nearly had a heart attack. I was like no way, we could definitely find it streaming for free somewhere if we look, or watch something else, shortage of options. They were like no it's no biggie that's what I want to watch and clicked rent. Like no problem *sweats intensely* Anytime I spend money, I have a heart attack and second guess it, it takes me like 10 minutes to click buy and my heart always drops when I do. I overthink, whether I really need/deserve it/whether there's a cheaper option, or if it's truly necessary. I know that's a poverty thing. It's just like we could have easily found it somewhere for free with a little effort!  

We go to order food, we both have celiac so finding takeout is a chore. They knew the area better so I was trusting them. They were very adamant about ordering expensive sushi. It was $36 for just one of the things they wanted. Not including delivery or tips or fees or anything else, which included appetizers and drinks, the whole nine. I wasn't feeling sushi. They were like fine, we'll order from two separate places then. Double the delivery fee, not something I ever do, it would be cheaper finding a place together, I could get something small and affordable but they wouldn't budge. I didn't really have money to order a big thing on my own, I wanted something small, but I felt pressured. I figured anything I got would be cheaper than having to split a big sushi order I didn't want. I was like okay fine.  

They kind of seemed annoyed that I didn't just give in and get sushi. They were a little short with me, didn't give me many options of other places, and were weirdly controlling, not letting me look at their phone to find something. I kind of gave up and said like just a burger is fine. I figured it would be cheap and filling, probably $20 max. I didn't take into consideration that they live in an extremely expensive area. It ended up being almost $30, plus tip. For a burger. I almost wanted to cry. I would have picked somewhere else cheaper given the option. They didn't even tell me the price until after they ordered it. I was like oh how much like $15 and they were so casual like oh no, $30 with tip. When it arrived, it was cold and disgusting, really inedible. I picked at the fries, which gave me a stomach ache as they were not gluten-free friendly and had been cross-contaminated in the fryer. I assumed they picked a place that they knew was safe.  

When I wasn't eating, they asked if it was bad. I said yeah and they were like oh well just order something else. Like no, I can't afford anything else, it doesn't work like that. I was like no it's fine I'm not really that hungry. I wanted to say, I trusted you, and you kinda fucked me. I guess they picked that place because there was a gluten-free brownie sundae (prepackaged and not cross-contaminated) on the menu that they really wanted. Obviously more important.  

My stomach ached all night. They ate their food happily. No big deal to them, $30 wasted on food I didn't really want, that I couldn't end up eating and got me sick. If it were them, they would have just ordered something else. No big deal to them. It was more important they got their brownie sundae and expensive sushi than making sure I was able to get something edible. Didn't matter that was half my grocery money for the week. Bologna sandwiches it'll have to be then. Awesome.  

We spent the night talking, I didn't let on to how sick I was or that I was upset about not being able to choose food. They picked all the movies. I wanted to go home, but it just got later and later, one more movie I just *needed* to see. I asked them several times as the clock was ticking if it was getting too late to drive me home. No, no they were fine. Let's just watch another one. Then casually, they went to their room and brought out their night meds, threw 'em back, and settled into the couch. I started to panic. I asked again, you're taking me home, right? I guess they decided they weren't. I was miles away from home, no public transit running or close by. They were like oh I'm so tired, it got so late. Just order a car. I pulled up uber, $25. That would definitely overdraft my account.  

Thankfully, after they saw me sweating and looking panicked, they were like, oh, I feel so bad, I'll order the uber for you. (If they hadn’t, I would have had to explain like, getting home on my own wasn't the plan nor was staying the night. If they thought I would be cool with just staying, they should have said something, if they wanted me to stay, it should have been a discussion, not a surprise.)  

I just felt really disrespected. I was simultaneously hungry and sick from dinner, broke and unprepared to stay over with no prior discussion. I didn't have meds, my cat didn't have food out, I was blindsided and essentially stranded/put in an awkward position. They didn't consider that it might be stressful or beyond my limitations to get home. Being able to just roll with punches isn't financially feasible for everyone. It just felt like they were self-centered and inconsiderate. The whole night was what they wanted, what they wanted to eat, where they wanted to order from, what they wanted to watch, changing plans to what was convenient for them without any regard toward how it might impact me. Just inconsiderate and self-centered behavior.  

We did keep talking though, I just sort of chalked it up to miscommunication and sort of beat myself up for not speaking up. It was weird though, kept just casually mentioning shit that was so privileged and complaining about shit that made them sound so ungrateful. I don't think they realized how it came across, just completely oblivious to their access to resources and not appreciating their position or supports.  

They started talking about starting ketamine treatments to combat their ongoing depression. They had received them in the past and went on about how life-changing and helpful it was, and that everyone should try it. Now, being on disability (and even with most insurances) the treatments are not covered. The clinics that administer them are all out of pocket, bougie as fuck, and extremely expensive.  

They talked about having several rounds in the past like it was nothing. It's easily $250-400 a pop and they were going 1-2x a week for a long time. They kept talking about all their options like what a painstaking burden. Should they start with lozenges and work up to IV clinic or ask for patches, and start that way. They wanted to work up to twice a week again but their family was giving pushback. They wanted me to agree with them, saying it was so unfair and lame and unreasonable/closeminded of their family for not immediately agreeing. The same family that would be footing the bill.  No, not unfair or unreasonable at all. You sound privileged as fuck.  

I was super bothered they were endlessly going on about it and complaining about pushback and asking me to agree with them. My treatment-resistant depression hasn't responded to anything, I've been on every waiting list for MDMA-assisted treatment whenever they pop up but never been selected due to demand and availability. Even ECT is too expensive and not covered. I'd kill for an opportunity like that! And it wasn't even like their family was saying no, they were discussing it in family therapy and seriously considering it.  

They talked about it so nonchalantly and kept going on and on about how amazing it was. Like great, tell me all about something else I'll never be able to afford. I'm sure Paris is great, and backpacking across Europe is awesome, like please do tell me more.  

I finally mentioned like okay that sounds great, will never able to afford it, glad it's so helpful They told me that I could just buy it off the street. That's what they used to do occasionally. It's only a couple hundred dollars and you get way more. Like oh okay. Let me just not pay a third of my rent in the hopes that this jam band kids ketamine isn't fentanyl or some shit and maybe have a shot at not wanting to kill myself for a week, you know on the off chance it works. Sounds great, super safe, much more affordable. And like as ridiculous as it was to offer that as an alternative, that still wouldn't be something I could afford! They just came off so clueless and privileged and oblivious.

What really got me was how they eventually talked about their family. They did weekly family therapy with their aunt and uncle and occasionally their dad since moving up here. They stayed with their aunt and uncle (lived down the street) more often than not so they weren't alone. This was encouraged/appreciated/welcomed. They did activities together regularly to help with depression and loneliness/ managing symptoms. They had their grandma and brother, whom they saw often and cherished greatly. They portrayed the relationships as really solid and important. I thought wow, truly wholesome and wonderful.  They seemed so loved, close, connected, cared for, and supported. Across the board, they had support.  

But then tables would turn. They complained often their family was too close, too conservative, and not understanding. They didn't want them so involved in their life, their treatment, decision-making, and recovery process. They resented the support, complained they weren't a kid and were capable/in sound mind to make decisions/have control of their life. I tried to listen and be understanding but I didn't get it. They came off almost like a spoiled, ungrateful teenager.  

You're getting help, love, and support all around, everyone wants to support you and see you do well and will give whatever that takes. Like legitimately whatever ?!?  You don't have to work, pay for anything, and it is made sure you don't have to struggle for anything. Anything you need, you've got.  

I get the concept that having family so close/involved could be crippling or invasive or just downright unproductive. But it was such a slap in the face they would complain to me of all people about having that kind of support.  

Family/support is such a foreign concept to me personally. Like I said, I grew up in foster care. I've never had family involved, healthy relationships, or any sort of support like that. The concept of calling your aunt when you're sad and she offers kind words, support, and tells you to come over to do something fun? Like, can't relate. I could only take so much of them complaining about being taken care of.  

Living with extreme mental illness, not being able to work for periods of time, living solely on disability paychecks and food stamps is damn is impossible to survive, especially where we live. Without the help they were being given, they wouldn't be able to survive. The cost of living is out of control, you can't even rent a room with a single disability payment. I know, I'm doing it. It takes everything for me to keep a part-time job, barely making enough to make ends meet. But if I don't. I'm homeless again. No matter what, no matter how bad symptoms get. And I have one of the hardest, most debilitating mental illnesses. I don't have any other choice.  

Their aunt would pay for them to go to school or learn a trade or anything they wanted. They have a world-renowned private practice doctor that prescribes them literally anything they could want or need to help and they have a great bond/ working relationship. I have a psych who can barely remember my name and sees me for 5-15 minutes maybe once or twice a month. I was asking for medications recently to get through a hard time, nothing serious, but my state-assigned psych does not prescribe benzos. Period. Neither does my PCP. It's state rehab or psych facility for me or bust. Another thing they take for granted. They almost bragged to me about immediately getting two heavy-duty benzos and another maintenance medication,  just by saying their panic attacks were slighting increasing. Meanwhile. I was at risk for DT's after relapsing and begging for basic Librium to maybe not die and was denied.  

The real reality of being on disability is the bare minimum or bad treatment. My psychologist is thankfully amazing but it took 10 years and hitting absolute rock bottom and being homeless to find her. She's a diamond in the rough but only works with the sickest of the sick. I would be in a state institution right now if it weren't for her and I avoided it by the skin of my teeth.  

So here's where I'm probably the asshole. After weeks, I broke. We were texting as usual and they started to sort of mope and complain. They were venting about having a hard time again and how symptoms were bad and there was just nothing they could do and it was so hard. They started going on about how helpless they were and how there was no opportunity to get better and everything was just super hard and impossible for them and how rough they had it. Their family was checking in on them too much and they were annoyed at them for being concerned and that they had no options and no chance and everything was just so hard and impossible.  

I understand, that's depression. I'm pretty empathetic and understanding and have been up to this point but it just felt like the rich person complaining to the homeless guy sleeping on the street, how awful it was they forgot their umbrella that day, and how unfortunate it was to be getting wet. I just wanted to scream. If you're anxious take your benzos, take your other meds! Call your aunt. Text your on call therapist. Call your fancy psych who answers night and day. Utilize any of the resources you have and all the support you are given!    

I was just tired of it. Things in my life have been super difficult, especially lately, and I have to figure it out alone. The voices were getting loud again which lead to a bad relapse that went off the rails, which I had to pull out of completely unassisted. I am in between jobs, my housing isn't stable, my bank accounts are low, my mental health is chronic and very severe, my treatment team was threatening to section me if I didn't reel it in. Things were bad. But I deal with it, alone.    

I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn't take it. They have everything to help themselves!!! They could go to a fancy hospital, they could ask all their supports for help! They would receive the best care. All the medicines, the best treatment. Anything.  

I basically kind of spelled it out for them. You have privilege, you have support, you have money, resources, a great treatment team, family, everything... please for the love of God, USE IT! You wouldn't have to worry about losing your job going into treatment, you wouldn't lose your housing. You wouldn't have to worry about falling behind on bills. You'd be fine.  

How can you not see or appreciate all you have and or see how oblivious and privileged you come across and how hurtful that is? You're complaining to the wrong person.

I went on a bit too long. I was definitely coming from a place of hurt, mental illness, and jealousy. I wasn't trying to make them feel bad, I just wanted them to understand. That kind of support would make all the difference for so many that are struggling. They are sitting with gallons of water around them, complaining to be inconsolably parched and that don't know what to do, all while sort of offhandedly bragging about how much water they have and how they can easily get more. I've been carefully conserving a 16 oz Poland spring bottle, rationing for weeks not knowing if/when I will be able to refill. They aren't alone, expected to make it on just disability. They weren't recognizing their position, how they were coming across, how hurtful that was. I didn't get anyone to catch me, love me, support me. This is the real reality of living with extreme mental illness on disability looks like without that opportunity or support. This is hard fucking work. We are not the same. You got lucky. Now do something with it.

They ended up calling me a dick, saying I didn't understand, that I was being cruel and mean for no reason. We haven't talked since. I do feel bad, I just couldn't take it anymore.  

So if you made it this far, lay it on me, AITA?      

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 10

 Warnings: parent/child angst and strife. Some language.

We also finally get info on how the hell Tyler and Esme ended up in Dhaka together ;)

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

If it isn’t too much trouble, just leave a comment or even send me a message! I love hearing from you guys!!

@valkyrie-of-the-light  we are getting closer to finding out who the stranger is ;)

“In all fairness,” Esme says with a yawn, as she lays in the middle of their rumpled bed. “I don’t think Ovi meant to cause problems.”

It’s seven thirty in the morning and the house remains in peaceful slumber; unusual, as all of the kids are usually up and causing chaos at the crack of dawn. The baby is at the breast; suckling sleepily and contently, while Millie is tucked into her side; snoring lightly, a thumb in her mouth. A bad habit she’d managed to break before starting kindergarten but always reverted back to in times of stress.

“He just should have kept his goddamn mouth shut,” Tyler grumbles, as he pulls on a pair of baggy and weathered jeans, doing up the zipper and button before attending to his belt.

“Well she did ask,” his wife attempts to reason, watching him as he dresses, eyes feasting on those broad shoulders and wide back; his skin a canvas for the bulging, rippling muscles, tattoos, scars, and now bright red and brutal looking scratch marks caused by her nails. “She wanted to know why you go away so much. She’s five and curious. Not to mention she misses you like crazy when you’re gone.”

It’s hard on all of them, but it’s especially difficult for the little five-year-old that thinks the sun rises and sets on her father. In her mind there’s nothing he can’t do. No promise big or small that can’t keep or no problem he can’t fix. And when he’s gone she’s heartbroken; refusing to sleep in her own bed and choosing to stay with her mother, sleeping on his pillow, wanting to cuddle up to one of his dirty shirts so she can smell him. When he calls or video chats, she’s the first and the last he talks to. Then spends hours in tears after he disconnects.

“It’s way too early for a guilt trip,” he says, and pulls a simple white t-shirt over his head.

“That’s not what I was doing and you know it. When have I ever guilt tripped you over making the decision you did? And I mean an intentional guilt trip.”

It would have been so easy for her to do. He knows that. He’d made the decision without her and had even talked to Nik about getting back into the game before he mentioned it to his own wife. It should have been talked about. She should have at least had a chance to argue her side against it instead of just feeling as if her hands were tied and her opinion or her fears and worries didn’t matter.  In many ways he still struggles to find a balance between the way he was before and his role as a husband and a father. He’d spent years only worrying about himself (and even that wasn’t done well) and it wasn’t an easy habit to break.

Yet not once has she ever intentionally made him feel guilty for going back on the job. He knew she was pissed. That she still is at times. Disappointed that he just couldn’t walk away and make a clean break from it for the sake of her and their kids. But she still supported him. Never made him feel like a selfish fuck.

Even though he often felt that way about himself.

“At the hospital when you were having the twins,” he says. “You lost your shit on me.”

“I had been in labour for eighteen hours and you’d just gotten back from Croatia on the only flight you could find. And you were covered in dirt and blood and wearing fatigues and you looked like you’d just walked out of a war zone. The doctors and the nurses wondered what the hell had happened to you. Not to mention the epidural wouldn’t take. You can’t take anything seriously I said at that point. I was just pissed at you because I was in bloody agony. And because of your weak as fuck pull out game.”

He smirks at that.

“She asked him, Tyler. She wanted to know why you leave so much and where you go. What was he supposed to say?”

“He could have said anything. He could have made up any kind of bullshit. He didn’t have to tell her that.”

“Didn’t have to tell her what? The truth? Because that’s all he did. And it’s not like he went into all the gory and brutal details. All he told her is that when people need help, you go and help them. You get them away from bad guys. Because that is exactly what you do.”

“But it’s not all I do.”

“She doesn’t need to know that part. She doesn’t need to know how capable you are of hurting people. Of killing people. All she wanted to know is what you do and where you go. Ovi explained the best he could. It was better than lying to her and then her being totally pissed when she’s older and finds out the truth. She thinks you’re a superhero.”

He sighs, sitting at the end of the bed as he straps on his watch. “I’m no hero. Especially not a super one.”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” she stretches out her leg and rubs the tips of her toes against the small of his back. “You’re built like one. Not to mention sexy as hell. Aren’t most superhero’s sexy? So you fit most of the categories.”

He reaches around to grab her foot; massaging softly as he winks at her over his shoulder.

“The people you help think you’re a hero,” she says. “So do their families. So does your daughter. And so do I.”

He doesn’t deserve that kind of praise. At least not in his own mind. While it may be physically easy to inflict pain and even death on those deemed to deserve it, it was difficult…mentally speaking…to take a life. After the adrenaline wore off and you were able to register both what happened and that you were still alive, reality would set in. And he’d be covered in someone else’s blood and God knows what else and he’d think about how he’d just killed someone else’s family member. Someone’s son. Brother. Uncle. Friend. Maybe even someone’s husband and father.

He did what he did out of necessity. Not pride.

He stands, running a hand over his weary face and then raking his fingers through his damp hair. Collecting his wallet and sunglasses of the nightstand on his side of the bed, sliding the former into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Please tell me you’ll be home by the time Ovi’s girlfriend…or whatever the hell she is…gets here. If you abandon me and leave me to deal with this by myself…”

He leans over the bed to kiss her. “If I’m not home in a few hours, just assume your mother somehow managed to kill me and has hidden the body somewhere you’ll never find it.”

“Thank you, for doing this for me. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You know that.” He kisses her again, a finger hooked under her chin, tilting her face up towards his. “I love you.”  Those words had never come easily to him. Not until he’d met her. Now he says them as often as he can. Just in case.

She smiles. “I love you too. Try not to let her get to you. Easier said than done, I know. But I’m sure she’s going to try to bait you into lashing out. Just so she can paint you as the bad guy.”

“I can handle her,” he assures her, then leans down to drop a kiss on Millie’s head and then the baby’s.

“Call when you get there,” she says as he heads for the door. “Just so I know you got there safe and sound.”

“You’re turning soft on me in your old age,” he teases, running a hand over her hair and giving her one last kiss.

“Maybe I just like knowing you’re okay. I can’t control what goes on thousands of miles away, but I feel like I can when it’s forty-five minutes.”

He’s the same. Always wanting to know if she got somewhere safe and sound. Life was way too short not to remind the people you love just how much you actually do care about them. And sometimes that love comes out in different ways; verbally, gestures of appreciation and affection, making sure they check in so you know they’re okay.

“Check on the boys,” she suggests before he slips out of the room.  

“I will,” he promises, and gives her a wink before stepping out into the hallway.

 ****

His mother in law answers on the third knock; eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.  And he can smell the booze on her when she gives him a stiff and awkward one-armed hug. Even this small gesture of affection is out of character for her; she was more apt to punch him in the throat or kick him in the nuts than give him any sort of hug. It takes him by surprise; brain needing a few minutes to register just what the hell is happening. Slowly and a bit reluctantly bringing his hand up to settle in the middle of her shoulder blades.

“It’s good to see you,” her voice is slightly slurred and she’s a little uneasy on her feet as she lays a hand on his arm, both steadying herself and guiding him towards the hall that leads to the kitchen. “Esme is right. You do smell really good.”

He smirks, toeing off his boots, hoping he doesn’t come across as rude when he gently removes his arm from his grasp and then gestures for her to go first.  Being drunk doesn’t make up for all the things she’s said and done while sober. He doesn’t give a shit about her opinion on him; he’s heard worse from better. But he’s been in her company when she’s tried gaslighting her own daughter and has heard the abuse she’s lumped on Esme for years.  He tries to remind himself that he’s here for his wife. For his kids. When his mother in law had left a voice message on his cell asking him to come to the house for a ‘chat’, he’d been leery about her attentions.

But he’d seen the way Esme’s face had brightened at the thought of them actually burying the hatchet and he didn’t have the heart to let her down.

So here he is. Just shy of ten in the morning. Following behind his already inebriated mother in law. He remembers those days; drunk off his ass by noon hour. Back then it hadn’t mattered; he’d had fuck all to live for and was very close to just putting a bullet in his own head. Now when he thinks back on it, he realizes just how pathetic it was. And he’s determined to never get that far into the booze again.

“Do you want a drink?” she asks, as she motions for him to sit down at the kitchen table. It’s cluttered; days worth of newspapers and unopened bills. The counters are in a similar state; a sink full of unwashed dishes and empty and half empty bottles of liquor and wine littering every available space.

“It’s ten in the morning,” Tyler points out, and he removes his sunglasses from his eyes and his cell phone from his pocket and places both on the table. “Don’t you think it’s a little too early for that?”

She ignores him and moves to pour herself another drink, then starts up the coffee maker.

“Where’s Sarge?”

Everyone calls Esme’s stepfather that. When they’d first met, he’d attempted to call man by his first name and was quickly corrected. He was a good guy, tall and broad with a head full of thick white hair and a handlebar moustache. Posture rigid and proud as if he were still serving in the military.  And other than Esme’s younger sister Lyla, he’d been the only one that had welcomed Tyler into their family with open arms.

“On one of his boy trips to Vegas,” she sighs.  “And we all know what goes on in Vegas.”

Tyler has never been there himself, but according to Esme, it means that her stepdad and the boys go around fucking random women and spending their money on three things: booze, gambling, and strippers.

“We’re having troubles,” she admits.

“Sorry to hear that.”

He’s not really. Far from it. There’s a feeling of vindication that surges through him at the mere thought that the woman who’d been badgering her daughter about her decision to stay in Australia with some ‘random fuck’ (as her mother called him), was now being served a nice dose of karma. That all those times she’s been on Esme’s ass about an unwanted and unplanned first pregnancy and a hasty marriage, were coming back to haunt her.

He wants to ask her how that slice of ‘shut the fuck up pie’ tastes. But he doesn’t. Reminding himself yet again that he’s there for his wife and his kids. To be the bigger person. To make the visits and the holidays at least tolerable.

“Black, no sugar, right?” she inquires, pausing before pouring the fresh brew into a mug.

“Yeah. Thanks,” he manages a small pleasant smile in appreciation and accepts the drink as she slips into the chair across from him.  

The next few minutes pass by excruciating slow; no sound other than the soft hum of the fridge and slight dripping off the kitchen tap. And she nurses her drink while he runs his palm along the side of the porcelain mug, then taps it against the side, wedding band making a soft clinking noise.  

“What am I..” he attempts.

“So I guess…” she speaks at the same time, then laughs. “You go ahead.”

“It’s your home.”

“Visitors first,” she insists.

“I was just going to ask what I’m doing here. I’m normally the last person you like to see darkening your doorstep. I was surprised when you called.”

“I thought that you and I needed to have a chat.”

“About?”

“My daughter, mostly.”

He nods. “You mean, my wife.”

There was no need to say it. It was petty as fuck and Tyler knows it. But there’s a sense of satisfaction at seeing the way that it bothers the woman. She can’t handle the fact that that’s exactly what he is.  Her daughter’s husband. The father of her grandkids. Five years and counting and she can’t accept him.  He’s still a stranger to her. That random guy that had talked her daughter into his bed and never let her leave.

“I know your secret you know,” her eyes are narrowed as she regards him.

He cocks his head to the side, smirk tugging at his lips. “You do, do you? And what secret is that?”

“I know what you’re up to. I know why you go away so much. Why you’re gone for so long.”

He doubted it. But why not play along and see where it goes.

“And why’s that?” he asks. “Why do I go away so much?”

“It isn’t for a job. No one travels that much for a job.  It’s women. Other women. Not just one. Many. All over the damn place.”

At first, he just stares at her. Trying to even comprehend the nonsense that is coming out of her mouth. He’s made a lot of stupid decisions in his life and has been a complete and utter asshole while both drunk and sober, but one thing he wasn’t was a cheater. And it wasn’t for the lack of temptation. He simply isn’t that kind of guy. The second he decided to pop the question, that was it. There would be no other women after her. Ever.

Finally he throws his head back and laughs. The mere idea so ridiculous that he can’t help himself.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he agrees. “I have other women all over the world. I even have another family back in Australia. Eight kids. Your daughter knows all about them.”

She frowns. “You can laugh all you want. But I know it’s true.”

“You don’t know shit. There are no other women. There haven’t been any other women since I met your daughter. I would never, ever cheat on Esme.”

“I know men like you,” she growls.

“Men like me? What kind of man am I?”

“Just look at you. You just look the type. The good looks and the muscles and…”

“Are you trying to pick me up? Because I hate to sound like an asshole, but you’re not my type. And I’m not into a whole mother-daughter thing, so…”

“How many are there?” she presses. “How many other women are there?”

“You’re actually being serious about this? You really think I’m cheating on your daughter?”

“I know you are.”

“Like I said already, you know shit. I am not cheating on your daughter. I will never cheat on your daughter. She’s my wife. The mother of my children. The last thing I would ever do is hurt her like that. I’d put a bullet in my brain before I’d ever hurt her. Or my kids. There are no other women. There’s only her. I only want her. For the rest of my life.”

She stares at him.

“I love your daughter. More than I ever thought I could love someone. She’s my entire existence. Her and my kids. So don’t sit here and insult me. I don’t cheat. I’m not your husband.”

She blinks at the harsh truth dumped in her lap.

“I know you hate me. I know you think I took your daughter away from you.”

“You did.”

“But she chose to stay. When I was in the hospital, she was the one that chose to stick around. I didn’t even expect her to be there when I woke up. But she was. And you know what? That was the happiest fucking moment in my life when I opened my eyes and she was sitting there.  Imagine almost dying and when you come to, that is the first thing you see? Someone that beautiful at your bedside?  You have no idea what that felt like. To see her there. And to know she chose to be there.”

“She’s loyal,” her mother agrees. “To a fault.”

“Maybe. But she’s also the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. And an amazing mother. You don’t see her with those kids. How she is with them. She puts everything she has into raising them. She tries every day to be a better person, a better mother for them. Probably because she never had that herself.”

“Excuse me, but what…”

“Don’t bullshit yourself. You know it’s the truth. You’ve spent the past thirty-five years shitting all over her. Making her feel horrible about herself, making her feel as if she doesn’t measure up, that she disappointed you. You even stayed friends with her ex husband. Who’s a fucking coward that likes to abuse women. You don’t hate me because I took your daughter away. You hate me because I’m the only one that’s ever defended her. Because you know you can’t manipulate me.”

She gives a small snort and takes a large gulp of her drink.

“I gave her the chance,” Tyler continues. “After I woke up in the hospital and before anything went further between us. I told her that she could leave. That she didn’t have to stick around. That she didn’t have to feel obligated to be there. And you know what she did? She told me she loved me. And it didn’t even matter that I didn’t say it back right away. She was sticking around. I didn’t force her to be there. Regardless of what you think.”

“You got her pregnant,” she hisses. “Of course she’d stay.”

“We didn’t know about the baby before I told her she could leave. That was three weeks later. And no, it wasn’t planned. We should have been more careful. But Esme gave me a beautiful daughter. Millie is beautiful and she’s smart and she’s caring and she’s everything that’s good about me and everything that’s good about Esme all rolled into one. She wasn’t planned, but she wasn’t unwanted. She’s your granddaughter. How can you look at her and think she was an accident? How the fuck can you honestly think that?”

“I never said she was an accident.”

“You were drunk last Christmas and told her to her face that her mommy and daddy made a mistake and that’s why she’s here. She was four years old. You broke her heart. A little girl. And not just any little girl. My little girl. That’s pretty fucked up and I probably should have let your daughter beat your ass when she wanted to. But I didn’t.”

“I was drinking. If I’d been sober..”

“Please. You’ve said some pretty messed up shit about your own kid when you’ve been sober so don’t play that shit with me. You really want to know where I go and why I’m gone for so long? How I ended up in the hospital all torn up to shit?  You really want to know?”

She stares at him.

“Because I’ll tell you. I will tell you the honest to God’s truth if you want to know. You won’t like what you’ll hear, but I will tell you. Is that what you want?”

She nods.

****

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Clears his throat noisily.  “I’m a mercenary,” he says, and he watches the way her eyes widen and her brows shoot up.  “I was a mercenary when I met Esme. It’s how we met. She was involved with the same people I worked for. That I still work for.”

“What?” she laughs incredulously. “Esme? My Esme?”

“She was an intel person. She was the one that would that go into a place and trick people into telling her everything that we needed to know. Names, places. That sort of thing.  And she was good at it. No, she was fucking great at it. And that’s how we met. My boss put us together and sent us to Bangladesh. Dhaka.”

She swallows the remains of her drink, then gets up to pour another.

“We were sent there because one drug lord took another drug lord’s kid and my boss was having a hard time getting information. So we had to pretend that we were married. Newlyweds doing missionary work. She was there to get the info, I was there to protect her. After that, I was the one in charge of getting the kid out.”

“Ovi.” It’s a statement. Not a question.

Tyler nods. “Things went to shit. Everything blew up in our face. I almost died. On a bridge there. When I was shot in the throat. There were other injuries too. Tons of them. It’s how I ended up in the hospital for as long as I was.  I was this close…” he holds his thumb and forefinger a hairs width apart. “…to dying on that bridge. And the only reason I didn’t? The only thing that kept me hanging on? Your daughter. So don’t you ever question my love or my loyalty to her ever again.”

She leans back in her chair, hands tightly clasping her drink.

“That’s a lot to hear, I know. But it’s the truth. That’s what happened. That’s who I am. Who I really am. I get sent places to help people. I get paid to go into god awful shitty messes to fix things. And sometimes, things go wrong and I get the shit kicked out of me. Or I get stabbed. Or shot. But I always come home. To my wife and my kids. So no…” he sips his coffee. “…I am not cheating on your daughter. Although right now I bet you wish I was instead of hearing all this other crap.”

Silence. Even longer and more tedious than the first one. And he sits back in his chair and slowly sips the coffee.  Waiting for her to finally come to terms with all the information that she’s just been given.

“But why?” she asks at last. “After everything you went through…after almost dying…why would you still do it?”

“Because the money is good,” he admits. “And I’m good at it. Damn good. It’s what I do.”

“Well that’s pretty fucking selfish don’t you think? A job like that when you have a wife and kids at home?”

“Maybe. But your daughter accepts it. She supports me. I do what I have to do for my family. Even if it means killing people.”

“And Esme is okay with that? With you…killing people?”

“Your daughter was in the Marines. She specialized in weapons and ammunition. You really don’t think her hands are entirely clean, do you?”

“No…I just…I…” she stumbles over her words. “…I guess I never thought about what she was actually doing when she was overseas. And now you’re telling me she was a mercenary and…”

“She wasn’t. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to gather intel. That’s it.”

“It’s your job to kill people.”

“I kill them if I have to. Sometimes there’s no other choice.”

“But what about your children? What do you tell them? What…?”

“They have no clue what is going on. Millie sort of does. She asked Ovi why I go away so much and what I do when I’m away. He just told her that I help people get away from bad guys. They’re young. They don’t need to know anything more than that. And I hope you can respect that. That you can respect your daughter enough not to say anything. To them. To anyone.”

“I can’t even wrap my head around all of this,” she admits. “This is all just so crazy. I’m sitting across the table from a killer. A hired killer.”

“I don’t just kill people. That’s not all there is to it. It just has to happen sometimes. I’m asking you for a favour here. I’m asking you not to say anything to the kids. To anyone else in the family. This goes no further than the two of us. The less people who know, the better. Trust me.”

“I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” she promises. “And even if I did, no one would believe me. This is just all so…insane.”

“It’s wee bit crazy,” he agrees, and then checks his cell phone as it vibrates against the table.  

“Esme?”

“Yeah, the kids always get her to send me pictures,” he smiles at the one currently on the screen: the twins helping feed the chickens.  And he holds the cell out, screen towards her. “They like to help. They love being outside. Love to help their mom out.”

For a few minutes they’re able to put their differences aside -and she’s able to forget about the booze- as he shows her the various, most recent pictures in his room. Including the one that Esme had sent him of himself, Millie, and the twins sleeping on the hammock.

“Do you ever think about taking them to your home?” she asks curiously. “You’re home, home. Where you’re from.”

“Sometimes I think about it, I guess. About how much they’d like it. All the beaches and the water. And it would be nice to take them. At least for a visit. Just to let them see where I grew up. Maybe even meet their grandfather. That’s up in the air. He isn’t exactly the grandfather type. He wasn’t even the father type, so it shouldn’t surprise me that grandkids aren’t important to him.”

“Esme said that they two of you aren’t close. That’s sad.”

“It is what it is. We haven’t been close in a long time. Since my mother died. Even before then things weren’t great. He was there, but he wasn’t there at the same time. Esme’s told me a lot about her father. They were very close.”

“Very,” she confirms. “She was a daddy’s girl. Daddy could do no wrong in her eyes. They were always together. He was always right by her side, supporting her every step of that way. He would have been proud of her. For joining the Corps. He would have been so proud,” she clears her throat noisily as tears threaten. “He was a good man. A fantastic man. And a big piece of her died when he did.  She was never the same. Never happy. Rarely smiled or laughed. That changed when you came along.”

“It’s all I want. For her to be happy. To make her happy.”

“I saw it right away. That first night when the two of you got to Colorado. She was tired and she was hurting but she was happy. Every time she looked at you, every time you smiled at her, the way you spoke to her. I knew that you made her happy. And I could tell that she made you happy as well.”

“She does. She came into my life when I didn’t have anything to live for. She gave me a reason to keep going. Now I have four other reasons.”

She smiles at that.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for your daughter,” he says. “Or your grandkids. You can hate me all you want, but they’re my family. My entire world. And I love your daughter. More than I could ever tell you. More than I could ever tell her, actually.”

She reaches out and lays her hand over his. The first display of genuine affection he’s received from her in five years.

“You’re good for her,” she says. “And I hope she’s just as good for you.”

“She is. In so many ways. I don’t know what happened between the two of you. Why the two of you stopped being close. But your daughter deserves that again. She may be a mom now, but she deserves to have a mom, too.”

She nods slowly, considering his words.

***

He stays for an hour. Helping her clean up the mess in the house. Fixing lose cabinets and changing burnt out lightbulbs and helping take things down to the basement for storage. They talk; she tells him stories from Esme’s childhood, he shares tales of growing up in Australia.  Afterwards she walks him out to the car, and the hug she gives this time is genuine.

“Please take care of them. My daughter. My grandkids. That’s all I ask. Just take care of them.”

“I will. I promise.”

“And don’t hurt my daughter. She trusts you. Don’t make her regret that.”

“I won’t. You don’t have to worry about that. I love her too much to hurt her.”

Tears sparkle in her eyes. “Thank you. For loving her as much as you. And for giving me those beautiful grandbabies.”

He smiles, and then gives her a hug of his own.

“And be careful,” she adds, as he climbs into the SUV. “When you’re out there. Just be careful. Be safe.”

“I always am.”

She reaches out and pats him on the cheek affectionately. Motherly. Then steps back as he shuts the door, guns the ignition, and drives away.