#i have not tried dating ever... no idea what to write in my profile

[duoduotian]

i am so um invested in this one tele channel but for my own reasons

[anastasiabowe]

𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich boyfriend! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.

note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄

Content Warnings: language, suggestive content

Nanami is a man of morals. He usually keeps his hands and eyes to himself, he holds the door for anyone, women especially, he respects boundaries, and if anything that causes him to think inappropriately he will kindly excuse himself to make sure he doesn’t seem like a creep. But Nanami is just like any man.

Nanami longs for a lover, a wife. He desires children, a family. But in this cruel, sick world, he can’t find a woman who wants him for him. Nanami is one of the top 10 richest men on the planet, he not including himself, but his company in that title.

Every woman he has attempted to date tries to put on their best “I love you for your heart not your money!” act, but it slips the second they tell him “oh no! I forgot my wallet!”

Nanami knows every trick in the book, he knows the look women give him when they are impressed by his wealth, he knows the lip biting they do to show interest in his looks, he knows the voice and excuses they say to make him fall down to their feet, which he never once has done nor will do. He knows it all. So dating people that have seen him before he’s met them makes it all the more boring.

So, when Nanami’s friend, Haibara introduced him to dating apps, he obviously was shook.

“You really had no idea there were dating apps?” Haibara blankly looked at him. Nanami bit his thumb in uncertainty.

He grumbled a little “no.” And his friend smiled. “Then sign up! What can you lose? They don’t have to know what you look like.”

Nanami hated that idea. “No, I want them to know who I am.” His firm voice erased that idea completely from his friends plan.

“Well, 80% of this world knows who you are, that wish you want isn’t going to happen.” Nanami sighed knowingly, just tired from his sad lonely life.

“Haibara, thank you for this..” Nanami thought carefully of his words. “Great discovery, but I think it’s best you head home and I sleep on it.” Haibara understood, and firmly grabbed Nanami’s shoulder on his way out.

“You’ll find her, I know you will.” Nanami placed his hand firmly on Haibara’s in a thank you, and Haibara left.

After Nanami heard Haibara leave, he hurriedly sat down on his couch and opened the dating site.

“RICHTON THE DATING APP FOR THE WEALTHY!”

Nanami quickly laughed at the cringe advertisement, but it was a popular app, so something was working.

Nanami put in his information and had to choose which photos to put on his profile. He chose the first decent ones he could find, not caring too much about perfection, and he was brought up with the interests slide.

He clicked three random ones and pressed continue. The app asked to use his camera to verify his age and photos. Nanami positioned the camera to where it said to and he was verified. The app welcomed him to a very ugly woman.

Nanami had skipped the tutorial at the beginning and just swiped towards the X like he has seen on TV. This app was the definition of a gold diggers dream. Rich men pay to speak with women that aren’t even all that.

Nanami swiped and swiped towards the x. No woman looked like a decent women. They all looked like they seduce men or are prostitutes, maybe both. Nanami frowned seeing all the half naked women.

“Should I really be on this app?” He thought to himself. He continued to swipe, heart sinking each swipe to the left seeing women who don’t know their worth. Ass in the camera more than their face just to get a quick buck. Nanami swiped one more time ready to turn his phone off, and his thumb froze.

A girl with straight hair smiling in what seems to be senior photo. She was in a white summer dress posing in a daisy field. The beach was calm behind her and he couldn’t help but stare at her smile. She seemed so pure, so innocent and that was exactly what he was looking for. He swiped right on her profile and it opened up a message saying:

“YOUR FIRST MATCH! SEND HER A MESSAGE WITH THE AMOUNT YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEND!”

Nanami saw a text box and a drop box. The drop box has let Nanami type in the amount he would like to send. The minimum was 5 dollars. He typed in $100 and pressed on the text box.

His thumbs again froze. What should he say? Should he compliment her? Introduce himself? Nanami combined them. He typed.

“Hello, my name is Kento and I couldn’t help but be in absolute awe seeing your photos. You are absolutely beautiful.” He sent it without looking back, this was already hard enough.

Nearly instantly you saw his message and typed.

Y: “Oh my god, you did NOT have to send that much money!”

He imagined your voice as he read your message. He chuckled to himself like a madman and he started typing back.

N: “I wanted to, you are so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

He nervously tapped his thumbs on the side of his phone waiting for your response.

Y: “I really do appreciate the compliment but $100 is too much, I can’t accept that!”

N: “Too late, I want you to have it, I want to talk to you.”

Y: “You can’t talk to me for free!”

N: “That’s not how this app works..?” Nanami was confused.

Y: “Oh, right.. I forgot you have to pay to chat.”

N: “Please don’t be alarmed by the money, I’m not running out anytime soon😂”

Nanami cringed at himself for using such an emoji, but he wanted you to feel at ease.

Y: “Thank you, you really didn’t have to though. I won’t stop saying that.”

N: “Then let’s change the subject. Why are you on this app?”

You saw his message but didn’t text back. Did he ask a triggering question? You soon started typing, and his nerves came back.

Y: “You know, a broke college student who needs a little extra cash😅”

He chuckled, for a girl who didn’t want a hundred bucks, that’s sure what she was looking for.

N: “Haha, so you won’t mind if I send more?”

Y: “Don’t send more! I’m not that broke😭”

Nanami smiled. He smiled as if you were really there. He imagined having this conversation with you and how hard you would make him laugh with your silly remarks.

N: “Don’t worry, I won’t 😂, but it’s not like you’re going to stop me.”

Y: “I’ll send it back😜✌🏾”

N: “I’ll send it back!”

Y: “And I’ll send it again, it will be a whole thing if you make it💀”

The fact you both were arguing over money is crazy, Nanami never argued with a woman about sending them money. They usually do a “oh no you don’t have to do that!” But will eventually accept. You on the other hand are just outright refusing. Nanami is now intrigued by you.

N: “If you won’t accept my money via here, how about dinner? I’ll pay, and I won’t argue about it when we get there.”

You again took your time typing, very obvious you are unsure.

Y: “Okay… but where are you tryna take me?”

N: “I was thinking…. Hermes?”

Y: “You’re joking!”

N: “What?”

Y: “I can’t afford that!”

N: “You’re not paying.”

Y: “Still, I can’t make you pay for that!”

N: “I want to pay for it, I eat there all the time.”

Y: “Not for two☹️”

N: “I’ve paid for 10.”

Y:“Kento..”

N: “Y/n, please. I want to meet you. You intrigue me, I’ve never met someone like you. I don’t want to seem like a begged, nor do I want to pressure you, but I would love to meet you and enjoy a nice dinner with you.”

Nanami felt desperate even though he just met you not even an hour ago.

The long response time again happened, and Nanami felt like he blew it. The once time he felt like he actually found someone worth the time, he blew it.

Y: “Okay.”

Nanami’s heart fluttered seeing your message.

N: “You will have dinner with me?”

Y: “Yes! I’ll have dinner with you😂”

Nanami felt like a little boy again. He hadn’t felt this excited to ask a girl out since never and it felt good.

N: “How does tomorrow sound? I know that’s soon, but it’s the only day my schedule isn’t busy.”

Y: “Yeah, tomorrow would be great!”

N: “Alright, I’ll see you then!”

Y: “See you!”

+

The next day Nanami felt different. His head was somewhere else, somewhere lighter, happier. He felt… excited? He wasn’t sure, he hasn’t felt this way until his first client offered him half a million dollars as he started his journey in this company.

Nanami played more upbeat music, very different from his normal taste, and he swayed and stepped with every beat to the song as he ironed his clothes. He had opened windows and instead of wincing from the sun hitting his eyes, he smiled.

“What a beautiful morning.” He thought to himself. Nanami must have been in a different place that he didn’t even know was so negative until now. He was looking forward to a dinner with someone. He hasn’t felt that way in years and he just wishes he could meet you right then and there.

Nanami nearly put on his freshly ironed clothes and grabbed his briefcase and blazer. He locked his garage door and headed straight to his black Porsche that he usually doesn’t drive, but today, why not?

Nanami drove to work with a smile on his face. Haibara greeted Nanami as he stepped out of his car and a valet stepped in for him.

“Good morning.” Nanami smiled and Haibara walked beside him.

“Good morning…” Haibara stared at Nanami’s face.

“Did something happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you win the lottery? What’s got you so happy?”

“Haibara.” Nanami stopped and turned towards his friend, “Thank you.”

Haibara wanted to laugh, he didn’t even do anything, right?

“for what” Nanami smiled at Haibara.

“For showing me that ‘app’. I’m going to meet someone for dinner tonight.” Haibara smiled at Nanami.

“That’s great, Kento! What’s her name?”

“Y/n.”

“Hm, is she pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

“Is she rich?”

“Eh..”

“Is she young?”

“Kind of.”

“What do you mean by ‘kind of?”

“She’s… 20..” Nanami purses his lips waiting for Haibara’s reaction.

“20?!” His eyes were wide and he laughed. “You’re 34!”

“She’s very aware of my age.” Nanami said not amused by his friends reaction.

“I mean, hey, if a woman 14 years older than me asked me out, and she was hot, I’d go out worth her too.” Haibara threw his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ pose and Nanami rolled his eyes.

“We meet at 6, so I just need to get through today.” Nanami said more to himself. The happy facade started to break, and he felt the butterflies pool in his stomach.

He was nervous. He hasn’t been on a date with someone he actually wants to meet in over 10 years. He doesn’t remember how to be charismatic, he doesn’t remember how to be enticing and interesting. Work has been the only topic that’s been keeping his conversations alive. He doesn’t talk to anyone about anything personally other than Haibara and that is hard enough.

Haibara saw Nanami. He knew Nanami for nearly 6 years and this was the look of nervousness. He’s seen it countless times, but that’s only because he knows him. He can tell from the slight twitch in his jaw and the subtle fidgeting with his hands.

“Come on Nanami, let’s go to my office.” Nanami nodded and followed Haibara.

+

In Haibaras office, he gave Nanami tips.

“Now I have met countless women. Hard to believe, I know, and I know how to get them wanting more.” Nanami cringed at the thought of his good friend seducing women.

“I’m not trying to get anything from her, I just want to hold a conversation and hopefully get to know her more.”

“Alright, I got you.” Haibara walked over to his whiteboard and wrote “NANAMI’S FIRST DATE”

“This isn’t my first date, Haibara.”

“I know, but you’re acting like it is.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, and Haibara clapped his hands together.

“I have cancelled all meeting that require you to be there, and will have your secretary fill in for the ones that don’t. We have all day to get you ready for your date, alright?”

“Ok.” Nanami replied. Nanami felt silly sitting in the chair and listening to his younger friend teach him how to act right on a date. Nanami usually lets the women talk since he usually doesn’t care too much about them. He usually just lets his colleagues recommend a woman and set up a date. Nanami regrets every single dollar he wasted on the money thirsty women. But he wants to try with you. He wants to talk to you and let you talk. He wants to actually get to know you, maybe even go on more dates and hang out.

“Ok, first step. Do NOT let them talk the whole time. Even if they ramble, try and have a mutual conversation. Sometimes when they ramble, they think it’s because you aren’t interested and they will want to make sure you're still intrested” Haibara took in a huge breath, “OR they are nervous.”

Nanami nodded.

“You just have to read their body language.”

“Well, how will I know if they are nervous or not?”

“You’ll know. If they look around when talking, when they cover their face when talking, when they hold their hands in their lap, if they look tense, come on, you know what nervous looks like.”

Nanami nodded again.

“Use your words, this is practice. Don’t just nod your head,” Haibara mocked him by aggressively nodding his head “say things like ‘I agree’ or ‘I’m listening’ or ask them about whatever they’re talking about so they know you’re listening.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t just say ‘okay’.” Haibara mocked again. “Try and be more creative! Let’s practice.”

Haibara sat down in his seat and tried his best to look more feminine.

“So yeah, me and my friends went mini golfing and I didn’t know what to do so I just sat and watched them play.”

Nanami sat there. What did Haibara want him to say? Haibara looked at him, waiting for a response.

“Oh, well that is very sad.” Nanami said unsure. Haibara sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yep, might as well pay the bill and leave.” Nanami sat there dumbfounded. What was he supposed to say?

“What should I have said instead?”

“Nanami, I can’t tell you what to say, but that would have sent her home crying. You sounded like you didn’t care. You should say something along the lines of ‘did you ever end up knowing how to play mini golf?’ That will at least let her know you’re listening.” Haibara stood up and sighed.

“We have a lot of work to do.”

+

After many hours of preparing, Nanami’s watch chimed. It was 5:30 and he needed to head home and change.

“Thank you Haibara, this was very helpful.” Nanami shook his friends hand and headed towards the front of the office.

“Don’t try too hard! Just let it come out naturally!” Haibara cakes out to Nanami. Nanami smiled back at his friend and Haibara sighed.

“Please don’t screw this up.”

[cheesiedomino]

RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

[berriblossom]

Cold hands and warm love

[Date with Death : Casper x Reader] [i am positively obsessed with this man that he's making write again| spoilers for endings#3 btw and the story.]

There's something so oddly soothing watching Casper sleep with Azrael in his arms, all snuggled up without a care in the world. His ghostly white locks sprawled against your shared bed sheets. His eyes ever so softly flutteribg against his pale cheeks, the rays of sunlight dance across his face, almost creating his own personal golden hour.

You chuckled at the idea. Casper wasn't a huge fan of super bright things. Even when you managed to convince him to walk outside your apartment with you, he dons a pair of black shades and scowls at everything. Now that you think about it, he's even more like a black cat than anything, rather than a sign of bad luck but rather for his sassy attitude and his dislike for certain things.

As you quietly watch from your desk, with your pet sitting in the empty sunny spot of the bed, you think back to how long its been since tou winning the bet and being a somewhat embodiment of life while your sweet little now former Grim Reaper is the opposite.

Goodness, one small picture shouldn't hurt? Besides, Casper can't argue with how many not-so-sly pictures he has taken of you randomly as of late. Even changing his profile pick of you sleeping with Azrael while you napped on your bed after work. He tried fighting it off, saying he mainly picked the picture because Azrael looked so good in it while you just happened to be there....no other reason...(he said this while fighting off a flustered face while gazing back at the picture. He then denied making it his lockscreen too.)

You picked up your phone and began to open the camera feature and angle the camera to get the best picture possible. Hell you even move from the desk to hover slightly over Casper and your pet to get the best angle. "Stay right there pretty boy....just perfect..." you mumbled while snapping a few silent pictures. You went to adjust his snowy hair to move from his beautiful face. Just as you touch his cool face, sleepy red eyes flutter open and the iconic pout appears on the reapers face.

"Sunshine....what are you doing? Why do you have your phone like that..." Casper's eyes flutter as he fights off the sunlight beaming through the blinds, all while his sour pout turns into a playful one. Your pet scatters away while Casper tries to snatch your phone away to see the sneaky pictures you've taken of his sleeping figure.

"Ah ah ah! Nope, absolutely not pretty boy, if you can take pictures then so can I!" You shuffle off the side of the bed while Casper jumps up to grasp your hand and to get those pictures. You tease and weave yourself away from him and the bed, sitting on the edge you laugh at how pouty and upset Casper is.

His frustration only exceeded when you decided to flash him the adorable and beautiful picture of him in his sleeping form. As casper has told you before, reapers do not need to sleep or eat. But the idea that he was so comfy in your blanket and bed, cuddling Azrael closely. It just made you want to tease your little reaper to bits. Though sadly your teasing and fun was put to an end.

Suddenly, you felt two strong cold hands wrap around your torso and squeeze you gently. You could feel Caspers lips against your neck as he mumbked for you to please delete the picture. As adorable and pretty as he could be in those moments...the little rat decided to try and tickle you to get you to give uo your phone.

Luckily you were quick enough to slip from his grasp again(heh get it) and make your way back to your bed while cherishing your sweet victory. "Sorry casp, but you look too good! I might make this my profile picture on the chat room too!" His frustrated groans on embarrassment only fueled your decision.

"Sunshin pleeasseee....just....atleast make it your lockscreeb to while your at it...since you can't stop looking and staring at me. Just can't get enough, silly mortal.." ah his ability to bounce back is incredible as ever. But still it was fun while it lasted. Casper came to join you on the bed while bringing you back close to him...somethibg about "being warm." But you did not mind.

You'll never mind, your soul brings him warmth, his perfect heater if youll say. You chuckle as he scrolls through his camera roll whie trying to find a picture of you(an god awful one) to place as his profile picture on the chatroom. Yeah its going to be a long day. But you never minded.

[ghostlykeyes]

HI honeyy I love ur blog!!! can u please write the headcanons for kayn and K/da f!reader...how do the two of them explain their relationship to their fans or maybe they give a moment in a few shows?

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: K/DA READER ♡ Female Reader ♡ SFW, with slight touching/sensuality ♡ No TWs ♡ THIS GOT SO LONG. I am willing to write more for this situation, since I had to cut a lot of my OG ideas to make room for what felt the most important...truly Kayn floods my mind and cannot be expressed or exhausted

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KAYN

When Akali dragged you along to one of Kayn's birthday parties, all she wanted was a drinking buddy to keep her company while Kayn was doing, quote, "birthday boy shit". She wasn't expecting you and Kayn to hit it off so well. She definitely wasn't expecting to find you two wedged in a coat closet, shoving your tongues down each other's throats. She had two words for Kayn as she linked her arm in yours and tugged you out from between a leather jacket and an 80's windbreaker; "Do. not."

But, after two torturously long weeks of you never shutting up about Kayn during rehearsals, and Kayn texting her so much she has to threaten to block him for any sort of peace and quiet (at all hours of the night and day, "hey gimme your hot friend's number", over and over AND OVER AND OVER), Akali comes around. She's just worried for you. Kayn's got quite the reputation, and she doesn't want him to fuck around with you and break your heart. But, she figures, you're both adults, so who is she to stand in the way of whatever you've got going on. So she eventually texts Kayn your number, but not without a warning; "you remember I know martial arts, yeah? and that I can totally kick your fucking ass? don't break my girl's heart dipshit".

On the whole, K/DA supports your budding relationship with Kayn. Even though he's a bit wild, the group's whole thing is about being individual and true to yourself—it seems hypocritical to tell you that you can't be caught holding hands with Kayn in line at Chipotle anymore for the sake of the band's image.

Heartsteel is a bit more tentative about you and Kayn. Alune's nervous to have Kayn dating such a high-profile star when Heartsteel has literally JUST broken onto the scene. But, this is Kayn, after all. What are they going to ask him to do, stop seeing you? He wouldn't listen. Besides, you do seem like a good influence in his life, and if the way his eyes light up whenever he sees your name pop up on his phone screen say anything, he's crazy about you. Eventually Alune sways other management and teams to embrace your relationship, as long as the two of you try to keep it relatively low-key.

If anyone ever implies he's with you to boost Heartsteel's fame or that he's trying to ride K/DA's coattails to the top, Kayn blows up. "We don't need shit from anybody," he sneers, "we're gonna climb to the top all by our fucking selves. Oh, and if you think (Y/N) would settle for anything less than a born rockstar? You're fucking stupid."

For your part, you're more subtle when publicly discussing your relationship with Kayn, but you still shoot down any ideas that he's with you for your status. "Heartsteel definitely doesn't need K/DA's help," you assert. "They're superstars and they're earning their spot on the music scene fair and square."

Kayn is your absolute fucking biggest superfan. He knows your lyrics front-to-back, he shows up to every single event he can, and he even uses Ezreal's Mercari account to snag rare merch that's being resold. Kayn tries to play it cool, but come on. You've seen the amount of posters he tries to hide in his closet. Only a fanboy has a collection like that.

There's hundreds of paparazzi photos of you two floating around on the internet, and Kayn's got a love-hate relationship with that fact. On the one hand, he loves being seen with you—what better way to claim you as his own than a photo of him literally grabbing your ass on the cover of a trashy gossip mag? On the other hand, can't a guy get some goddamn privacy? He hates that he has to share you with anyone, prying 'journalists' included. To make light of it, though, you two have started a little game. You send each other the wildest claims you can find about your relationship, trying to one up the other. Kayn's still winning with the article claiming that he's exercising some kind of mind-control to make you his girlfriend.

Flipping off the camera and open-mouth kissing you is one of Kayn's favorite poses to strike if he notices paparazzi lurking. For your part? You're just happy for his attention.

Kayn loves when you sneak into his shows. You usually have to wear a hoodie and go incognito to avoid getting mobbed, but don't worry, Kayn can pick you out of a crowd no matter what you're wearing. Sometimes, if you're standing close enough to the stage, he'll take off his shirt and toss it at you. He gets off on the attention, on thousands of people all-but-worshipping him, and if his favorite person is in the throng, knowing his worst parts but screaming for him alongside everyone else, just the same? Ego-boost of the fucking century. He may not express it to you often, but he really, really appreciates when you come see his shows.

Your packed schedules present a challenge, and Kayn despises the fact that you're often touring hours away from him. He still tries to talk to you as much as possible, even if it's not in person. Expect daily FaceTime calls, frequent Discord DM's, and around the clock blurry pictures of Kayn causing mischief.

Bless Akali's heart because Kayn absolutely harasses her about you. Whenever you're busy, he bugs her; "tell my gf to come back from the ded". Anytime you're on tour, he Venmoes her money to buy you your favorite fast food. She complains to you constantly—"tell your purse dog to stop yipping at me"— but really, she doesn't mind spoiling you by proxy. She's just happy that Kayn dotes on you so much.

Kayn jokes about making you late for rehearsal a lot—especially if he's halfway down your neck in a heated makeout sesh—but the truth is, that's never going to happen. Sure, he dicks around a lot, but he never gives less than one-hundred-and-ten to Heartsteel and he's not about to let you slack off, either. That includes making sure you get to your K/DA commitments on time (even if your neck is littered with hickies).

Kayn loves when you show him your choreography. He listens intently as you explain how to go through the steps, or complain about what you're struggling with. Often, he'll offer critique; "you look a little off-balance, try standing this way," or "Have you tried positioning a little more to the left?". Sometimes, these are genuine tips. Most of the time, though, he's just looking for an excuse to feel you up. What better way to sneakily touch your boobs than "suggesting" your chest needs to come out more?

[i-care-bout-things-too]

Batfam Ages:

Okay, there is no such thing as an exact science when determining the ages of the Batfam, but the easiest thing you can do is work of the concrete ages that you /do/ know, and make them fit with canon events to the best of your ability. Now, canon changes all the time—which definitely makes this a challenge, but I’m going to just explain my process for determining their ages and you can disagree if you’d like, or you can use this to write fic like I do where ages are semi important,

Let’s begin. I’m going to give you the arbitrary number of 15, this will be important later.

Dick Grayson:

Depending on the canon, Dick is 8, 10, 12, or 15 when his parents die. All of these numbers will have problems depending on which you pick, but I go for the safe bet of 10 years old. Why? Well, a little known fact is that Dick ends up in juvie after his parents die, and he’s not immediately taken in by Batman. Thus, it takes a little while longer for him to become Robin, which doesn’t immediately happen after he becomes Bruce’s ward anyway, because Batman doesn’t immediately go and spill the beans. Thus, Dick ends up in Bruce’s car at around ten or eleven, but doesn’t become Robin until he’s 12.

Now Dick is Robin up until he’s about 18, when Bruce takes Robin from Dick because it’s too dangerous and Dick refuses to quit. Dick joins up with the teen titans full time, and he’s still Robin for a little while longer until we get Nightwing, aka Discowing, for the very first time at age 19. Simultaneously, while this is happening, a little kid is stealing the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason Todd:

Our beloved street rat Robin, Jason Todd, swings a tire iron at Batman and then gets taken out for fast food. It’s great, it’s cute, it doesn’t immediately lead to his adoption though, either. No, instead Jason ends up in an orphanage that is trafficking children. Bruce shows up one day to check up on Jason, and is made aware of this by his soon to be first adopted son (yeah, you heard me, Dick isn’t adopted yet). They take down the trafficking ring, and Bruce adopts Jason. Jason then becomes Robin at age 13.

Unfortunately for our boy, he was widely disliked by comic fans across North America, DC did a little telephone poll, and by a few hundred votes, DC changed comic history forever by killing off a high profile character what seems like /permanently/ for the first time ever. No resurrections this time. (Hah, right!). Which is to say, Jason Todd has the second shortest run as Robin at just two years, dying at age 15.

Tim Drake:

So then we get Robin numero 3. Tim Drake sees Batman getting darker and more violent and goes y’know, someone should do something about that. He tries talking to Nightwing, but he’s in a bad place with Bruce after learning Jason died via a Newspaper (yeah, Bruce sucks for that one), and tells Tim he won’t be going back to Robin. Thus, lil Timmy Drake gets an idea in his head. He looks himself in the mirror and goes, I can fix him, and then, Tim Drake becomes Robin at age 12.

Tim Drake has one of the longest runs as Robin, with only a mild interruption from a lil blond Bat.

Stephanie Brown:

Stephanie Brown starts off as the vigilante Spoiler, whose whole purpose in life is to spoil the plans of her C-list villain dad, Cluemaster. She meets Robin (Tim), hits him in the face with a brick, and then ends up dating him. Unlike most characters who appear a few times and never come back, Stephanie manages to stick around. She gets pregnant at age 15 (it’s not Tim’s, and no she did not cheat, this happened priorly), she gives birth, the baby is put up for adoption, and she becomes Robin after Tim’s dad, Jack Drake, finds out Tim is Robin and bans him from it. Tim is forced to quit and Stephanie picks up the mantle. She’s clocks in the shortest run as Robin, working with Batman for about two months before Bruce forces her to stop. Tim picks up the mantle again, and Steph goes back to being Spoiler—only to get killed by Black Mask, making her the second “Robin” to die. DC does retcon her death, and we later learn she was only badly beaten and sent off to live in a foreign country before she makes her return.

Jason Todd, Again:

While all this is going on, stuff is happening behind the scenes. Namely, Jason coming back to life. A common misconception here however is how long Jason was actually dead. While I wouldn’t be able to find the panels to confirm it, the true number is a “short” 6 months. Yep, while years passed in the real world, possibly decades, actually, Jason was dead all of 6 months. According to the books, he undigs himself from his grave six feet under (because Superboy punched through the multiverse or something?) and ends up wondering around Gotham as a mindless little zombie. Conveniently, Talia al Ghul stumbles upon her beloved’s lost little bird, and she decides to take him home and train him. He’s with them for a bit, gets dunked into a Lazarus pit, comes back very very angry, is shipped off to the all caste for a bit, and upon his return to the al Ghuls, is informed he’s been replaced by little Timmy Drake.

Jason makes his whole plan, and decides to make a splash by returning to Gotham wearing an old moniker of the Joker’s and taking over Gotham’s underworld. He beheads a few criminals, tries to kill Tim, tries to get Bruce to kill the Joker, and doesn’t really have success in those latter two objectives. That puts Jason at age 19, roughly. We don’t really know how to count the months he was dead.

Damian Wayne:

Shortly after Jason’s unmasking as the Red Hood, Damian Wayne turns 10 years old and beats his mother, Talia al Ghul, in combat. His prize is to be taken to his father and given to him for training. We know definitively that Damian is 10 thanks to this we can measure out the age gaps between the others and get their ages at this point in time. Dick at age 19 became Nightwing, while Jason is made Robin at age 13, so they have a six year age gap. Jason dying 2 years later at age 15 leads to Tim becoming Robin at age 12, they have a 3 year age gap. Tim is Robin for 3 years before Jason comes back and Damian trails after him a few months behind, putting Tim at around 16/17 while Damian is 10. I tend towards 16 instead of 17 because DC stopped aging Tim for a while, so it just makes more sense to pick the lower number. Thus, when Damian is 10, Tim is 16 as is Steph, Jason is 19, and Dick is 25.

Thanks to Damian being quite young, DC has kept an active track of how and when they age him. We know Damian is only with Bruce a few short months before he disappears into the time stream and Dick makes him Robin, and we also know that Damian’s 11th birthday is celebrated after Bruce is reinstated to the proper time. However, DC follows this up by killing Damian and making him the third Robin to die, the second to do so in the suit itself, and he’s dead for a significant number of months. In this time, Dick also dies—as in his heart is stopped by Lex Luthor for a few seconds, and then restarted, after his identity is revealed on live TV. Bruce decides to let the world believe Nightwing died and stayed dead, and Dick is sent off to Spyral to do secret spy stuff for Bruce. There is an issue around here in the “Grayson” run that claims Dick is twenty-one years old, which is ENTIRELY incompatible with the time line I just painstakingly established, and I go ahead and outright dismiss it because it clearly doesn’t work with a majority of canon. While Dick is with Spyral, Damian is brought back to life, and he goes on a year of redemption (which doesn’t actually last a whole year, but I digress). He and Dick meet again, and we move into Rebirth somewhere around here with the conclusion of Spyral and Batman and Robin Eternal.

General Events:

Damian turns 12 presumably sometime during rebirth, although not specified, I do believe Truth and Justice issue #6 to be his 12th or 13th birthday, but I lean towards 12 because of the costumes everyone wears in the issue. Steph is spoiler, Cass is Orphan, Tim is Red Robin, Red Hood has yet to don his solo Outlaw uniform, and Barbara is Batgirl.

I can’t name a specific issue for Damian’s 13th birthday, but it’s canonical that Damian turned 14 in his solo Robin series, Robin (2021) while he was off finding himself before the Lazarus Tournament, and since then, there’s been the Shadow War, Batman Vs Robin, Dark Crisis event somewhere around there, the Lazarus Planet event, Gotham War, DC Knight Terrors, and Beast World event, which catches us up to the modern day world.

Since Damian hasn’t yet turned 15 despite ALL of that going on, and is still for now at least, 14, that means Tim and Steph are 20, Jason is 23, and Dick is 29.

I know I mentioned Cass and Babs, and I would love to give you a proper age for them but I don’t know where to place them in DC canon like I do the others, however people do commonly place Cass roughly around the same age as Jason making her 22 or 23, and Babs tends towards being 6-8 years older than Dick, although that is an age gap DC has been slowly bridging over the years. Still, I put her at 35 years old. I don’t have a reference for Duke Thomas either, but he’s commonly placed as being two years younger than Tim making him 18 currently.

Lastly, I bring back the arbitrary number of 15, given that that is the number of years that separate Dick and Damian, I also use that age gap between Dick and Bruce—meaning that Bruce took Dick in when he was 25, and placing Bruce at 44 years old in main continuity.

Overall Ages Currently:

Bruce Wayne: 44

Barbara Gordon: 35

Dick Grayson: 29

Jason Todd: 23

Cassandra Cain: 22

Tim Drake: 20

Stephanie Brown: 20

Duke Thomas: 18

Damian Wayne: 14

[mshroom1e]

Hi! Could i request Ortho finding out that Idia's online friend and eventually crush is the reader? And eventually he tries to matchmake them?

Hello!! Sorry for disappearing for a whole 2 weeks 💀 I've been busy with life and I ended up writing this fic way longer than I ppanned to. I hope you don't mind! Also, I got really stuck on some parts and wasn't sure which direction to go with the story. Apologies if it feels a little rushed.

Pr0ject Cupid | Idia x GN! Reader

type: fanfic

Summary: A pair of painfilly awkward people get set up by a member of the said pair's little brother.

5.8k words

tags: silly fluff, mutual crushing

Warning(s): very mild swearing

no way u acc saw me

bruh i couldve seen you with my eyes closed

you dumbass u just contradicted yourself

no shit

im gonna shave your eyebrows

...

Idia stifled a laugh and couldn't hide the cheesy grin that grew on his face as his eyes read over the pixelated letters on his monitor. About 3 weeks ago, he met you on a random server, and you instantly clicked. He wasn't one to form bonds with people so quickly, whether it was online or in person, but with you, how could he resist?

You got along like Q and W on a keyboard, plus you always reciprocated his nerdy comments and never got the wrong idea about any of his intentions. The only problem was, however, that you had no idea who each other were irl.

So, one day, Idia got curious about who you really were. He ended up searching for you on Magicam using the username he knew you by. There wasn't really much he was expecting as people usually used different names for their social media compared to the more nerdy online stuff.

Idia nearly fell out of his chair when a search result popped up, and a profile with quite a few posts showed up. It was you. There was no way it wasn't you.

His heart began beating faster than usual just at reading your captions, posts of your random thoughts, and the pictures you posted. You were definitely cute, maybe the prettiest person Idia had ever seen. Even though your facial features were pixelated, you somehow managed to make them look soft and warm, like an angelic version of yourself. There were also many pictures of foods you made in the Ramshackle Dorm, selfies with your friends, and a few pictures with Grim.

Okay, now Idia was panicking. He'd never felt the way he felt right now, but from the way his heart was running a marathon and he could feel warmth slowly creeping up his face, there was only one explanation. The description matched how the characters in dating sims would feel, and this was bad. He couldn't have a cru- no no no, a c-word. No way! He didn't even want to think of the word because it would only solidify his predicament in his head.

From his panic, his finger slipped and accidentally liked one of your posts. Idia's eyes widened as he saw the damage he'd already done as his brain went into full panick mode. There was no way to undo it, even if he un-liked the post. The notification must've already gotten to your phone and you would've noticed most likely and you'd block him, think he was a stalker and never speak to him again then he'd be become even more emo and-

He changed from his usual question mark posture in his chair to sitting in a fetal position in the corner of his room, hoping for the atoms in his body to slowly merge into the wall.

His phone in his pocket vibrated, and when Idia pulled out the device to see what the notification was, his heart nearly collapsed on itself. A flinch of his arm caused his phone to be launched across his room, and for some reason, he jumped to catch it, landing on a large, disorganised pile of manga with a loud crash. He hastily unlocked his phone to see what the alert was.

'Your EP has been restored!'

Damn.

There was a smooth sliding of the door to Idia's dorm room. Ortho stood? floated? levitated? at the entrance with a confused, yet worried expression in the visible part of his face.

"Idia? I heard a loud crash, and I was worried you got injured," Ortho floated closer to his brother.

"I'm f-fine!" Idia yelped.

'Hair tinted pink, increasing heart rate, flushed cheeks,'

Ortho's eyes drifted over to Idia's several monitors until he focused on a certain one.

"Yuu's Magicam profile?"

The little robot pieced two and two together before he said, "Oh, you like [Name], don't you?"

-

This was a really, really, really bad idea...

Idia's internal panick only escalated as he was dragged walking through campus with Ortho. Leaving his dorm room usually resulted in a one-sided fight for his life as every dialogue scene he had with another person besides his brother was set to hard mode by default.

Speaking with you in person was the best way to get to know each other better, Ortho would say. The problem was, Idia knew that you didn't know who he was, so it would probably be strange to suddenly have him speaking to you.

He was lost in his panicky thoughts when he felt someone bump into him, and he felt his body tipping back. (So unique and never seen before, I know.)

A hand quickly grabbed his wrist, hoisting him back upright. Ortho sent you a beaming smile with his eyes before quickly disappearing and leaving you alone with his brother, leaving the beanstalk to fend for himself.

Idia's heart nearly flipped in his stomach as he met your eyes. You let go of his wrist when he regained his balance, he almost fell over again.

"Careful," you smiled.

In his eyes, you looked like a panel from a manhwa where the love interest was introduced with flowers, sparkles, and glitter radiating around them.

"S-sorry," He managed to spit out, somehow sounding cohesive.

"It's okay, I just hope you didn't get hurt, I tend to grab onto stuff a little too tightly," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

Your laugh. Idia's ears felt blessed with such a delicate angelic sound. Like bells chiming in his ears, more harmonic than the songs from his favourite idol group's no.1 album. His heart was sent into overdrive, and he couldn't take it anymore and decided on the most rational option in his currently mushy brain.

To run.

So he ran.

You watched his retreating form with a fond look before you turned to face Ortho, who hid in a nearby bush and sent him a thumbs up.

This was progress, at least.

- A few days ago -

You had a crush on Idia. A huge one at that. There was no debate. You didn't even bother denying it.

You knew he rarely left his dorm room, so you barely saw him during the day. Seeing a flash of flamey blue hair dart around a corner just before you could fully get a look at the twitter logo-coloured candle always managed to make your heart squeeze and an undefeatable grin etch itself on your face.

Of course, a few days into talking to your new online friend, you already knew of his true identity but chose not to inform him of the fact. From what you'd seen on campus, he was the type of person to prefer engaging with others through the comfort of a screen rather than conversing face to face. And honestly, you couldn't blame him at all. It must've felt so stifling to always be conscious of the way you carried yourself, while choosing words carefully to not offend the person in front of you or make them think badly of you while simultaneously looking like a sane, functioning person.

So, you talked to him like an online friend would. After a few days of getting to know each other through public servers and direct messaging, you soon shared your interests and found common ground in a few of them. For example, you both were addicted to gacha games with diabolocal pity systems. He also started to open up to you, though you thought it was a little fast, but people tend to share a lot when speaking to someone through pixels on a screen as they felt more at home. He talked about his struggles when interacting with people and his constant anxiety about how people perceived him.

Being someone of minimal social intelligence, the most you could do was offer some general words of comfort about how everyone was different in their own way and some people are just more advantaged in certain aspects of life, social interaction being one of them.

As your feelings grew, you couldn't help but feel like your relationship was a little one-sided. You knew who exactly you were talking to, but as far as Idia knew, he was talking to and building a relationship with a person who could've been miles and miles away and he also barely knew who [Name] was.

Man, this really sucked.

- Yesterday -

Ortho was smart. It was only obvious since his mechanical brain had the efficency of a computer with infinite RAM. He knew his brother had met a new friend online, which explained his less gloomy aura and his anxious glances at his phone whenever they were in his room together.

It didn't take long for Ortho to learn that the person Idia was talking to also attended the same school. In his mind, he viewed finding out things about you as a way to further protect his older brother from harm.

Fast forward to later that day, Ortho cornered found you in the courtyard after you'd lost a bet with Grim and had to buy him a drink from a nearby vending machine.

He called out to you enthusiastically as he practically teleported to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Long story short, Ortho figured out how you felt about Idia, and he was over the moon. His brother finally had someone who he could happily spend time with, and he couldn't be happier for him. He knew Idia better than anyone, and it was certain that getting close to Idia in face-to-face terms would take a lot for him to get used to and he decided it would be best to slowly ease your way into making conversations with him without being forceful or overwhelming him.

Thus began your joint conspiracy to rizz up get to know Idia better.

- Present -

It took about a day for you to come to the conclusion that you'd most likely never see Idia during school hours whether he was on campus or not. Your schedules were so unmatched that it was ridiculous. When you had a lesson in the alchemy labs, he'd be in a P.E lesson and when you were in the history of magic, he'd be in some classroom that might as well be at the other side of Sage's Island.

Luckily for you, Ortho informed you about Idia's current whereabouts. He was in the Board Game Club's classroom, probably playing- you guessed it- board games. It felt like some sort of secret stealth mission, plotting where to catch Idia with Ortho so sneakily. You just hoped that this silly plot would work.

Now that you were in front of the clubroom's door, you had no idea what to do. Your brain already left your body shortly after your heart that was beating a mile a minute and had long since jumped out of your chest to who knows where. You'd worked so hard to get to this point (not really) and now that you were here, what were you going to do?

Showing up at his clubroom unannounced totally sounded like stalker behaviour from some poorly written fanfic, and you definitely were not about that life. What if you just entered casually? Did you have a friend in the board game club? Probably not since you didn't even know the names of the people in your homeroom class, save for Adeuce and Grim.

Deciding to swallow your nerves and whatever other anxiety that was clogging your airways, you calmly slid open the door. Surprisingly, the club had quite a few members present, but it wasn't too densely populated. Your eyes immediately lit up when familiar floaty blue flames caught your attention. He was alone on a table next to one of the room's walls. His usual board gaming partner, Azul, was nowhere to be seen. It was safe to assume he was somewhere exploiting some poor unfortunate soul of all their mortal possessions with his buy-one-get-one-free pair of henchmen.

You approached Idia, more nervous than a turkey the day before Thanksgiving. He noticed you and almost jumped out of his own skin.

Was he dreaming? If not, why else would you show up at the board game club? Before he knew it, he started to sweat. Every step you took closer to him made his poor heart run laps. The confident (Idia's POV. This does not accurately reflect current events.) stride in your step, and the smile you gave him as you approached made his face heat up, and the tips of his hair grow warmer. His flight- please there is absolutely no fight- instinct almost took over as he considered running out of the room at full speed.

There was no Ortho to help him communicate if he ended up having to talk to you. He was all alone for this pop-up Pokemon battle.

A random board game caught your eye, and you picked it up, deciding to use it as a shield to not let your conversation get stabbed in the chest by the painful spear called awkwardness.

"Hi, Idia." You said casually with your usual grin. 'Great start'

You failed to catch Idia's mortified expression as it disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. To his surprise, you didn't seem to mind his silence and just sat down in the chair across from his.

"Sorry to bother you," you continued, "If you want me gone, just say the word." The second part was intended to be lighthearted as you let out a low chuckle after you were done talking.

He quickly scrambled into his bag and pulled out a slim, grey tablet, and began to type.

"I don't mind you being here at all, [Name]." A voice from the device's speakers that sounded too much like Idia's said. You weren't all too shocked since you'd seen him use it around school a few times and had even seen the thing floating around campus by itself. You'd just never have a conversation with "it".

"Woah, is that a voice program?Did you make it yourself? I've only seen it being used for vocaloids, and even those mess up a few times. Did you use a sample of your voice? Is everything prerecorded? If you-" You blurted out, quickly smacking a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up before you could ramble any further.

Great job, [Name].

Idia's eyes lit up with surprise at your words as he quickly started typing something on his screen. His features moulded into a proud smirk, "Yeah, it's made with a sample of my voice. I made it using a vocaloid as a reference."

"Really?!" You almost jumped out of your seat, eyes practically shining with stars. Gosh, he really was so cool.

He nodded frantically as the tips of his firey hair faded into a warmer hue. Students in his dorm had the same base interests as he did. However, he was almost always too nervous to initiate a conversation with any of them. But with you, the nervousness he felt didn't try to suffocate him for once and instead felt like a sweet, comfy flutter in his chest.

"I found this when I walked into the room, and it looked fun. Wanna play?" Your short exchange feuled you with a little more confidence as you built the courage to ask him to play a board game with you.

You hadn't even looked at the game's cover before picking it up. Imagine your surprise at finding out you'd picked up "Monopoly Bass Fishing Edition".

Great job.

Now, Idia probably saw you as some weird fish-obsessed kid (no offence to Octavinelle) who probably looked up how to make bass fishing bait in their spare time. The cover was hideous. A massive bass fish was in the middle, surrounded by loops of smaller bass fish all saying things in speech bubbles where the letters were modelled to look like bass fish. To top it all off, there was a massive glittery title in the colour of neon orange that said, "Monopoly: Bass Fishing Edition." Underneath in equally as eye tormenting sentence bordered off by a wiggly pink line that read "Get ready to be schooled!" Get it? Coz groups of fishes are called schools-

This was going to be painful.

You liked to think you knew all the rules of Monopoly by heart. Especially after seeing relationships crumble over the neverending board game.

Idia didn't seem phased, so you assumed he already knew the rules of the game, too.

You played for a bit, taking turns to roll a double to see who could start first. The first to roll a double was eventually Idia, so he took the first turn.

-

You knew Idia was competitive from the way he would obliterate the opposition during your online meet-ups in matches. What you didn't expect was to end up going bankrupt after only a few loops around the board. It took a while for you to accept defeat, but after seeing the small, triumphant smile that gently made its way onto Idia's face, any loss was worth it.

Now that you looked around the room, most of the board game club members had long since departed, and it was only you and your blue-haired friend left in the room. A blanket of quiet and slight awkwardness fell over the two of you as you both looked at anything but each other.

"We should uh, but the pieces away," you suggested.

He looked at you, a little surprised at your sudden breach of silence, before he quickly nodded. "R-Right."

After stiffly putting the pieces away, occasionally flinching when the tips of your fingers made contact as you passed some game pieces between yourselves, there wasn't much else for you to do despite twiddling your thumbs. From an outsider's point of view, the aftermath was painfully awkward as neither of you had anything to say. Sitting in silence wasn't always a bad thing, but come on.

Your brain frizzled as you tried to think of something, anything to say to start a conversation.

"Nice weather we're having today." So creative.

As if the universe was saying a big "f*ck you", there was a loud rumble of thunder outside the window before massive raindrops began to smack on to the grass and pavement outside, each with a louder 'plap!' than the previous one each time.

Idia giggled before trying to hold back a laugh, which eventually turned into even more giggles. You stared at him for a few seconds, stunned. You hadn't actually heard him laugh before as he always looked so terrified around you. Sure, he was laughing at your stupidity, but this was a start, right?

It didn't take long for you to join in, laughing at yourself too.

Maybe coming to his clubroom on impulse wasn't so bad after all.

-

"Sam's store is releasing this SSR-tier set of trading cards today, and I have to go get it," Idia muttered to himself as he scurried down a hallway of the Ignihyde dorm. "No one's gonna that early, especially since it's not gonna attract any normies-"

"But what if there's a whole mob of NPCs there? Worst case scenario is a few of them showing up to do some early morning shopping, so grabbing what I need and skidadling outta there is gonna be ez."

Ortho was most likely in his room resting at this hour, so Idia decided not to bother him. Besides, it was only a trip to the school store. He should be fine, right?

Wrong.

It was not ez peasy.

It just happened to be that the same day Idia's treasured ultra rare cards were released on the same day as Sam's new mystery drink that the whole school went crazy for. By the time Idia was about to leave the store after paying for what he came for, the whole area was packed, and it was almost impossible to move. Waves of students rushing to the till after grabbing a bottle of the new beverage washed over the store grounds.

People, people, people, and more people. Sweaty teenagers seemed to fight tooth and nail just to get their hands on a bottle. It was like the kids from the UK when Prime was launched. (iykyk) Everywhere he turned, he seemed to bump into another 3 people and get elbowed by another five. The sheer power of the crowd almost swept him off his feet, and he felt himself being dragged to the opposite direction from where he was headed. He reached his hand out to grab at something, while the other held his cards close to his chest, but there was nothing to hold onto for support. The only option was to become one with the crowd.

As he was about to give up and accept his fate, his outstretched hand was tugged on by a familiar, gentle yet firm grip, which felt like he was being pulled ashore after drifting off into the ocean. Idia's body was pulled upright and into a much less crowded space. A pleasant warmth spread across his chest as he saw the face of his saviour.

A part of him felt mortified while the other felt relieved. He was glad to have been pulled out of the sea of people, but he felt a little lame to have to have been saved by someone else, as if he couldn't handle himself. Another reason, the more obvious one, was because it was you. In his point of view, you always showed up at random times and ended up helping him without realising how much of an impact your actions held.

"I'm getting this feeling of deja vu," you smiled, leading Idia to a bench opposite the store.

"You helped me again-" Idia muttered, his eyes downcast.

You tilted your head, a little confused, "Hm?"

"N-No, it's not that I have a proble-" He cut himself off, "I, um-"

How did he manage to talk himself into a corner like this? Trying to talk to you felt like a puzzle with the myriad of emotions all rushing through his head at once, and he was bound to mess up somewhere.

"Don't sweat it," you responded. Your smile unwavering.

For whatever reason, Idia's anxious jumble of words never phased you. Your willingness to let him take his time when talking to you gave him a sort of confidence, and he could hope to speak with confidence that he didn't even know he was capable of.

A ray of reflected early morning sunlight that bounced off the shiny packaging of what Idia held securely in his hands and it caught your eye.

"Is that (insert game reference here)?!" Your voice cracked as you said the name of the franchise.

The mood was instantly lightened at your change in focus, and Idia felt himself get giddy. He was so happy to share a conversation with someone who wasn't a so-called "normie."

His excitement faded though, a bit, when he looked up to find that you looked slightly disappointed. You looked at Idia in confusion, but shrugged.

You sighed, looking away.

Why were you disappointed? Was it something he did? Oh no, what if you thought he was lame for getting trapped in a crowd like that, and you actually thought he was such a bother the whole time-

"I still haven't managed to get my hands in a copy," you frowned.

"Oh," He sounded stunned, which confused you. "Um, I-" He swallowed, fighting the urge to pull his hood over his head and hide.

"I mean-" Idia's eyes seemed to glance at everything and everywhere other than at you.

His breath caught in his throat, and the feeling multiplied by a gazillion when he saw Ortho watching him from behind a tree. He almost choked on whatever air he'd just managed to inhale into his trachea.

To make matters worse, Ortho held a cute but terrible made neon blue glittery banner that said, "Talk to them, Idia!!!"

Wasn't he resting?

The poor nerd (affectionate) wanted to evaporate on the spot.

"What were you about to say?" You asked, not seeing the silliness behind you.

Idia glanced back and forth between you and Ortho, wishing with every single bone in his body that the 50/50 gacha in front of him right now would go his way and you wouldn't turn around at all.

Imagine his horror when you followed his worryingly mortified gaze, and he saw our eyes widen a fraction, and you slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Ortho?"

He panicked for a good few seconds before he did what he did best and bolted away from you with a stubborn blush creeping up his neck.

"Huh?Wait up!" You called after him, but it was futile.

Ortho soon waved happily at you as he followed Idia back to what you assumed was the Ignihyde dorm.

-

"Where did you-" Idia began, speedwalking to the Hall of Mirrors with more agility than he knew his G-fuel filled body could possess.

"I did some research, and it showed that people your age have a 60% more chance at talking to someone they like when they're encouraged by someone else!" Ortho chirped with the certainty of the sun rising in the east.

"I'm not- It's not-" Idia couldn't find the words to use to retort at his younger brother. The way his sunny amber eyes shimmered with glee was enough to punch the words of protest that Idia could ever muster right down the drain. "J-Just tone it own a notch next time..." He finished with a small frown.

"Okay!" Ortho sang, floating into Ignihyde's mirror after the older Shroud.

Idia signed and pulled the strings of his hoodie tighter to conceal his face more. Now that you were somewhat aware of how he felt about you, he had no idea how to face you the next day.

-

It had been over a week, and you'd gotten no contact from Idia or Ortho. It was safe to assume that Idia probably didn't leave his room a single time in that time frame. A metaphorical banner was built between you as he had practically gone AWOL on everything you could use to contact him. So, you couldn't even talk to him with your online persona and try to understand how he felt by hoping he'd confide in his online bestie even a little. Not that you wanted to intrude on his privacy, but the fact that things seemed to be falling apart between you two before you properly even got to know each other hurt a lot more than th fact that you convinced yourself of- the fact that it looked like he didn't want to see you again. You sighed, closing your computer.

This was pointless. No doubt, he doesn't feel the same way towards you, and you really should start accepting it. Maybe he thought you were strange? Or it was creepy that you always seemed to be around when he was in trouble? Maybe he thought you were a stalker? He'd probably figured out your online identity and blocked you, hence the lack of activity on any of his accounts over the last week and a bit.

But you couldn't accept it. Not until you know more, and you don't think it'll help if you keep prying at the subject, especially since it won't do any good in the end. It was useless to keep trying. You grabbed your phone and checked the screen for any messages, but there were none. You put it back on the nightstand and turned on your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You lay there for what felt like forever and eventually fell asleep.

-

Morning soon arrived, and you woke up to a series of knocks at the main door of Ramshackle Dorm. The quick thuds of knuckles striking wood resounded throughout the whole bottom floor of the building, probably enough to alert your cat roommate out of his venture into Dream Land.

The perpetrator was definitely unexpected. It was a fine weekend, and you hadn't been expecting a visit from anyone at all, especially not the younger Shroud brother.

Rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn as you opened the door, you had to squint to see something else other than a mop of flickering blue and a white block.

"Ortho?" You blinked. Your statement sounded more like a question to yourself than to the other party.

"Good morning!" Ortho said cheerfully, waving with one arm while balancing an assortment of books and various games under the other. He was carrying four plastic bags full of stuff, including a large bowl with some cereal, milk, eggs, toast, fruit, and orange juice inside it.

"Err..." you replied.

"We came to hang out!" Ortho cheered, which confused you even more.

"What? And who's 'we'??" You questioned all at once, not even knowing where to begin.

"Idia wants to apologise for running away from you for the past week. He said he's really sorry and did it because he was scared," he rambled on with his usual cheery tone and pointed to a nearby tree, "And we brought food!"

Behind said tree stood said Idia, holding onto the tree's bark with a grip for dear life while only the top half of his face peeked out.

What.

- Flashback to earlier -

"Now, what do I do? This is demon mode difficult- I'd rather fight Absolute Virtue from the original release of FF11 all over again for 16 hours straight than face them again... Can I get an F in the chat for this one..." Idia mumbled to himself in a string of incomprehensible gibberish as he sat in a fetal position at the corner of his room while his hood covered his entire head, and he rocked back and forth.

"This is the worst-"

"Cheer up, Idia!" Ortho handed him a charger, "You can always talk to them online if it helps!"

"At this point, they've probably forgotten about me. People's online friends get Men in Black'ed from their brains all the time. I'll just look like some weird guy that goes,'Hey kids!wanna to get free RAM for your computer?' or something-" his rampant thoughts only dug him further into his self-made pit of despair.

"Hmm," Ortho pondered, "Let's go see them!"

"Are you kidding?! No way!" He shook his head rapidly and started rocking himself even faster, "If they don't see me, maybe they'll even forget I exist and I can become one with the void..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Idia. We can go see them right now!" Ortho hovered around, gathering a bunch of gaming equipment and books, "Hanging out like friends will get rid of any tension in the air!"

"No!" Idia protested, but it was too late.

He'd already been picked up by a robotic arm, and off they went.

-

"That's pretty much what happened," Ortho recalled as you lead the pair the lounge.

"Right... But I still don't get how that means he's sorry..." You muttered.

"Why don't you tell them, Idia?" Ortho looked at his brother, "I'll leave you two to talk here while I make some snacks!"

The older Shroud twiddle his fingers and stared at the floor, his hood still covering his head.

It took a few seconds of silence before Idia began talking.

"Uh," he spoke quietly and cleared his throat twice before proceeding, "I was so stupid."

"Huh?" You said, gaping at Idia.

"I know I've done stupid things, but this was beyond stupid. Like, way too stupid! Noob at Subway Surfers level of stupid!" He babbled on, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.

He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself. His hair turning pink. "I kept telling myself it was okay for us to keep being friends online even though I found your Magicam page and accidentally liked one of your posts and knew who you were but you didn't know who I was and I felt guilty and then you suddenly showed up then I realised I l-l-like you and then that thing at the shop happened and you probably thought it was so cringe-"

Then it clicked. So he thought you thought he was weird? He didn't hate you.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your chest.

Then, you chuckled, snickered, giggled, then let out waves of laughter. Idia stared at you, dumbfounded.

"This whole time, haha, I thought I was the one who did something wrong."

"No! You didn't," He quickly jumped in.

"Wait, you just said that you like me...?" You pointed to yourself, and you felt your face grow warm.

Silence landed like a wall of pure steel between the two of you.

He gaped at you with wide eyes. Dang it! He seriously didn't mean to blurt that part out loud. Curse him and his tendency to blab everything he thought aloud as soon as he started talking!

Idia covered his reddened face with his hands.

"What a coincidence," you smiled, "Since I like you too."

You gently pulled his hands away from his face and gave him your brightest grin. He froze as soon as your skin made contact, and his breathing quickened, his hair turned a full, passionate pink.

"Ahahahaha...!" He stammered.

A sudden noise filled both the room, followed by a long silence, causing the both of you to turn towards the source. Your heads turned in sync to see Ortho standing at the door with a camera after it let out a painfully loud 'click!'

He gave the pair of you a huge smile with his eyes.

"For memories' sake!" He cheered.

-

Bonus

After you'd made breakfast together with the ingredients that the brothers brought, you, Idia and Ortho, sat in a triangle on the floor, while Grim watched lazily from the sofa. It was more of a joint interrogation performed against the little robot with Grim serving as an audience.

"So, Ortho, you knew Idia already knew who I was?" You raised an eyebrow, "And you knew about how he felt??"

"And you already knew that they liked me? And you knew they knew who I was and didn't tell me??" Idia squeaked, "And you told them to come to the store that day?!"

Ortho picked up a controller and was suddenly immersed in gameplay.

"Haha..." He sweatdropped.

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER SEVEN: Downward Spiral

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: After agreeing to go on a date with Matt, you start realizing the weight of your decision, and your thoughts begin spiraling. In a moment of need, you turn to the only close friend you have in Hell's Kitchen, hoping she can pull you away from the edge of the very steep cliff your trauma is trying to throw you into.

Warnings for this chapter: ANGST (the caps feel appropriate here), mentions of domestic violence, suicidal thoughts, allusions to a suicide attempt, allusions to sexual assault, mentions of being taken advantage of by a superior, (I guess you could say) mentions of hypersexuality, self-loathing, PTSD, some foreshadowing, mental breakdown, alcohol, Season 1 related plot (spoilers)

Word Count: 6.4k

A/n: Surprise! I'm posting early because I'm going to see my family this weekend, and after I had an epiphany at two in the morning and spent 3 days writing this, I got it done, and I'm actually quite proud of this (or maybe it's the caffeine). Anyway, heed the warnings because the topics of conversation in this are pretty dark. That's why I highlighted the angst. And if you haven't watched past episode 1 of Season 1, this might spoil some things for you. (Also, I have no idea how this turned into a beast with a word count over 6k. Sorry in advance.)

Read Chapter 7: Downward Spiral here on AO3

You don’t know what came over you.

You typed in Matt’s number in a moment of weakness, and once you heard his voice through the line, you gave up on being careful. You gave up on denying yourself what you’re so desperately craving, and you abandoned all rational thought.

For him.

You promised not to get attached to someone ever again—let alone a man. You started a new life in Hell’s Kitchen to find your way back to normalcy. You took all the necessary precautions, and even though you look back at the shreds of your old life every day, you are never going back.

Two years. That is the longest you have managed to stay in one place ever since you left California. But you still haven’t found your way back into the real world.

You have been guarding yourself, afraid of having your heart broken, afraid of losing this chance at a new life, and afraid of the man who ruined you. 

Every time you close your eyes, you see his face. You hear his voice in the back of your mind. He’s everywhere, even when you don’t want him to be. 

It’s easier to put a wall between yourself and everyone else. A wall no one can break through, not even yourself. You trapped your soul for the sole purpose of keeping yourself alive after you made the hardest decision of your life. When you ran, you believed your life was over, but you have always been too much of a coward to end your misery. God knows you’ve tried, but even a trained doctor can’t fully understand death, and some things just don’t work out the way we want them to. 

Drunken one-night stands can’t possibly compare to a meaningful emotional connection, but they satisfy the need for physical intimacy. At least for a little while. It killed you; slowly, almost pathetically, but sleeping with strangers in dirty motel rooms did a better job than you ever could. 

For the longest time, you used sex as a coping mechanism. You let strange men use you because that is the only way you know how to be with someone else. You let them hurt you to feel something, anything because pain is better than feeling nothing at all. But when you finally got settled in Hell’s Kitchen, thanks to Claire, you stopped. 

You locked up your heart and threw away the key. You started to shield your body the same way you have shielded your soul. You retreated into a shell of restlessness and constant fear of every little sliver of hope you feel being taken away from you. 

You have nowhere else to run, which is why keeping a low profile is so important to you, but after two years, don’t you deserve to finally live? 

We don’t exist to just survive; we exist to live the life we were given. You are Olivia Clarke now, not the broken girl you left behind, but every time you think about it, his voice returns and backs you into a corner that you can’t escape from. 

Every time you see the scars on your body, all you want to do is rip the skin off your bones and feed it to the dogs. 

The men you slept with while you were running from your past saw you as a mere object, and you are used to being seen that way, but it was isolating nonetheless. They didn’t care about your scars, they only cared about what you could give them. They treated you like he did without lifting a finger. 

Even though you don’t do that anymore, it still weighs heavy on your wounded soul. 

Matt treats you like a person. He can’t physically see, but he still sees you. He sees you in a way no one has ever seen you before. And he is gentle, and patient, and—

You scream into your pillow. Your nose still hurts, but it is nothing compared to how fast your heart is beating. 

To you, Matt is perfect. You know that no one can be perfect, and you should be careful, but he makes you feel things you have long denied yourself. He makes you feel wanted. Desired. Like you can be yourself around him and still be worthy of his attention. Like you matter. And he has a certain way of being around you that makes you feel protected, almost. 

You don’t need protection. You have made it this far without a bodyguard by your side. You know how to fight your own battles better than most, but you can’t deny that you wouldn’t mind being saved by him. 

You wouldn’t mind those hands he always wraps around his cane to wrap around you instead. He can’t see your scars, but he can feel them, and as terrifying as that thought sounds, it also excites you. 

You’re treading dangerous territory, but God, he won’t leave you alone, not even when you’re trying to sleep. He could offer you a sense of normal that you have long missed. He could teach you how to be a person again. And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself be cared for by him. 

You roll back onto your back when you need to breathe, one of your hairs getting stuck to your lip. You let out an annoyed huff. There won’t be much sleeping tonight, you’re sure. Not when you keep thinking about tomorrow.

“You’re not fifteen anymore,” you mutter to yourself. “What is wrong with you? God!”

It’s almost too surreal to believe that this magnetic force of a man managed to retrieve some of your long-lost hope, and he only had to call you beautiful once for you to be completely smitten. 

When he allowed you to take care of his injuries on the first day you met, you didn’t think a person could be this guarded yet so vulnerable at the same time. He’s breaking under an invisible weight that must have been on his shoulders for years, maybe even decades. You’re painfully aware of other people’s feelings, and it wasn’t hard to tell that Matt carries a lot of unresolved pain with him. Always. He reminds you so much of yourself, it’s like staring into a mirror. Two broken halves of a whole. 

Your thoughts won’t stand still, no matter how hard you try. You’re stuck inside an invisible hourglass. Not even heaven knows what will happen once time runs out. You don’t understand why you’re overthinking this while, at the same time, knowing exactly why. And you hate it. 

There is a part of you that you can never get back. A little girl who grew up too fast. A girl who didn’t know any better. A broken teenager who wanted nothing more than to escape and live a better life than her parents could ever give her, and when she did manage to escape one hell, she found herself in a new quarter of purgatory built just for you.

You used to think that maybe you just bring the worst out in people, but after seeing the worst of humanity outside of your broken relationships, too, you’re not so sure about that anymore.

The fact that you don’t understand why you can’t stop your usually so intelligent brain from spinning out of control makes you want to claw at the walls of your apartment that threaten to cave in on you.

Part of you wants nothing more than to run and never look back, but you can’t run forever. This time, you wouldn’t be running from the Devil; you would be running from a fear of your own feelings. Human feelings. Feelings that have a high likelihood of recurring, and then you will have to run again. 

You can’t run from reality forever. It’s a different reality now, but it’s a better reality. That is a rational thought, but being rational currently has no place in your mind, so you’re spiraling, and all because a nice guy asked you out for coffee. 

You find yourself in a cab a few minutes later, wearing a pair of sweatpants, and an oversized shirt, with an untouched bottle of wine in your bag. Your worn-down sneakers are not the appropriate footwear for today’s weather, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick another pair. 

You’re aware that it’s late and maybe you should have texted, but you’re already here, and Claire told you that you could always come to her, even if it happens to be the middle of the night. If the rule still stands after she suddenly decided to stay at your co-worker’s place without a proper explanation, you’re not quite sure though. 

You knock. At first, no response. You knock again. The floorboards creak on the other side of the door. 

“Claire, it’s Liv,” you call out.

You can hear the exact moment the person inside the apartment starts to panic. The floorboards creak again, more frequent this time, and it sounds almost as if Claire is turning the room upside down. You raise your eyebrows. 

Before you can knock again, the lock finally clicks, and she opens the door. She’s more of a mess than you are, and that is put lightly.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Claire greets you. “What are you doing here?”

You blink a few times. “Hello to you too?”

She sighs. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, it’s just been a long night.”

“I can see that,” you answer. “Are you alright?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She looks you up and down. “What happened to your nose?”

“It’s a long story.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Can I, uh, come in?”

She hesitates before stepping aside to let you in. “Sure.”

You take a quick look around the apartment. Nothing seems out of place. A bowl of cat food stands in the corner by the kitchen. The window in the living room is open, but it seems intentional. 

The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air. You’re not sure if your nose is betraying you as you breathe in, but the smell is familiar. Bandages, disinfectant, and salve. You don’t want to question it, but you can’t help it. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” you ask. 

Claire blows her nose behind you. If you didn’t know better, you would think she was actually sick. She shakes her head upon hearing your question, but there is a faint blush on her cheeks. 

“What makes you think that?” she retorts. 

“Oh, no particular reason. It just smells very… hospital-y. That’s why I asked.”

“I, uh, I had to put a bandage on my leg earlier ‘cause this stupid cat decided to scratch me after peeing everywhere.” She sniffs. “Had to clean the wound, that thing—“ she nods toward the cat sitting in the cat tree, “and then the apartment. Maybe that’s why.” 

You follow her gaze toward the little furball resting on his cat tree. You approach him, but Claire seems less pleased at the prospect. 

“Be careful. He’s pissed.”

“At you,” you correct her. “Also, you’re having an allergic reaction, and—if he really, honest-to-God scratched you—very probably an infection. Why are you even staying here?”

Your voice rises in pitch when you reach the sleeping cat. “Hello, you.” You stroke his fur. He only opens one eye to sniff you, but once he recognizes you, he starts purring. For a moment, you forget the reason why you even came here. 

Claire exhales loudly. She scratches her neck, her skin threatening to break out into hives. “It’s a long story,” she says. 

You glare at her over your shoulder, your hand still stroking up and down the cat’s back as he settles back into a deep sleep. “I’m worried about you."

“That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine.”

“You called out of work and told Shelly you were sick.” You straighten up and turn back to face her. “You’re not sick, Claire.”

She sniffs as if to prove her point.

“Your immune system is overreacting by producing Immunoglobulin E. The antibodies are traveling to the cells responsible for releasing chemicals into your body, causing you to get a stuffy nose and break out into hives. You’re not sick. You’re allergic to cats and sharing an apartment with one. There’s a big difference,” you state. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but you have to admit that, from where I’m standing, your behavior looks a little suspicious.”

“I’m going through some shit, alright?” she says. “And it’s a lot easier to deal with them here than back at my place. That’s why I called in sick.”

You don’t know what to make of her answer. It’s vague. You don’t like vague answers because they often indicate a bigger problem. It is one thing for you to deal with your demons on your own and refuse to talk about it with your best friend; it’s another thing entirely to keep a dangerous truth from the person you’re closest with, one that could potentially lead to worse consequences. If Claire were a naturally secretive person, maybe you would understand, but she isn’t like that. She isn’t you. 

She’s the only person who knows your entire story. She saved your life. You can’t imagine her keeping secrets from you that might end up hurting her. 

You dare to ask, “Are you in danger?”

She shakes her head a little too fast. “I’m fine, Liv. Really.”

“I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing that.”

“It’s…personal.”

“Personal? Oh, my. Are you sleeping with Luke again?”

Claire stammers. The look on her face suggests that she didn’t expect you to jump to that conclusion. “What? How did you even–”

“Are you?” you repeat your question. 

The last time she slept with Luke Cage, she lied to you about it. She knew you would worry. It’s only natural for you to come to that conclusion now. Except that Luke is in prison, serving his sentence, and it doesn’t make sense. 

“How would I sleep with an incarcerated man?” Claire deadpans. 

“I’m sure you have your ways,” you say. 

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“That’s… true, but it’s coming from a place of love.”

She responds with a sigh. “I don’t wanna fight.”

You join in. You exhale, slowly lowering yourself down on the couch. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “Just tell me you’re okay, please.”

She offers you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” she says. 

“Thank you.” 

You choose to believe her. For the time being, at least. 

The silence tugs at your brain cells. You obsessed over Claire’s situation because you didn’t want to face your own, but now that your thoughts have regained the freedom to roam and cause irreversible destruction, you start spiraling again. 

You reach into your bag. 

“You brought wine,” Claire points out. 

“Yep,” you say. The bottle weighs heavily in your hand.

“You need a glass?”

You unscrew the top. “No.”

She doesn’t listen. Claire makes her way into the kitchen, reaching for the wine glasses in the cupboard. “Does this have anything to do with why your nose is all blue and swollen?” 

You shake your head at her question. “That was a patient I tried to sedate. No, I, uh… I have a date,” your voice falls flat. 

The wine glasses move back into the cupboard. Claire turns around, her eyebrows moving up to her hairline. “Come again?”

“I have a date.”

Saying it out loud makes it real. Something so surreal cannot be real, but it is. You have a date with Matt Murdock. Your heart begins racing again, and you feel the same desperate urge to scream into the nearest pillow again. 

You take a sip of wine straight from the bottle. You have a date with a nice man who, for the first time in two years, made you see some resemblance of light at the end of this endless tunnel of despair, and the thought alone is terrifying. Because how are you supposed to live after just existing for the longest time? After you dedicated your life to the act of survival?

Claire steps out of the kitchen and in front of you. “Liv, that’s… that’s amazing!” she says. She sounds like a proud mother. Maybe she is. 

You want to shake your head, but you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than put the bottle back against your lips and take another sip. The alcohol burns down your esophagus into your stomach, spreading a warm feeling through your fragile body, and into your broken soul. 

“Or not,” she corrects herself upon seeing the expression you’re carrying. Your eyes are empty. “I’m confused,” She pauses, “Are we not happy about the fact that you’ve finally got a date after two years of being miserable?”

If she puts it like that, you feel even more miserable. Another sip of wine finds its way down your throat. 

“Okay, maybe you should put the bottle down. I’m sorry if I said something wrong–”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You put the bottle down. 

Claire sits down next to you, but you get up before she can take your hand and look at you with that caring look she always gives you when she’s worried. You’re not even mad that she played your concerns down when you expressed them and now she is expressing concerns about you; you’re mad at yourself. 

She watches you. “You have a date. That’s a good thing. It means you allowed yourself to finally say yes to someone interested in you, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You’re pacing over the creaky floorboards. “The last time I went on a date with someone was after my intern year.”

Her gaze softens. “You told me that,” she murmurs. 

“He took me to a restaurant,” you tell her. Your lip quivers as you speak, and your nails dig into your palms until they draw blood. You can barely feel it. His face is right in front of you. “It was a nice restaurant. He paid for me, even offered me his jacket while we were walking home. It was the best date I ever had. And then he kissed me on the doorstep before wishing me a good night.”

“I know. You told me all of that before. But you couldn’t have known that he would turn out to be who he turned out to be. He was your boss. He had no right—”

“That is precisely the problem, Claire!” your voice breaks. “The guy I met, he’s… his name is Matthew. He’s… he is so nice to me. He cares. He treats me like a human being. He… he’s respectful. He called me beautiful. I don’t even know how he knows that. He just… he was so nice to me, and I feel so comfortable around him. I haven’t felt this comfortable around a man in so long. I… I wanted to go out with him. I flirted with him, for fuck’s sake! And when I’m with him, I finally feel wanted again.”

“But you know who else was nice to me when I first met him?” you say. “Who was respectful? Who said I was the only real thing in this world, the only important thing in his life, and that he loved me? You know who made me feel safe and wanted, and who said he cared about me? John said that I was the most beautiful woman on this planet, and I fell for it because he was nice to me. He–”

“But that guy isn’t John,” Claire cuts you off. She raises her voice only slightly—only enough to make you stop and stare at her, tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re miserable. You’re a mess. It is truly embarrassing. But she doesn’t look at you any differently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” you snap back. 

“Liv–”

“Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I’m 32, and I can’t sleep without a nightlight most nights because I wake up in a cold sweat. I can’t drop a glass without going into shock. I can’t look in the mirror without feeling his hands on me. Without feeling disgusting and worthless, and…” You can feel the shiver traveling up your spine from the thought alone. “I can’t exist without feeling like he should have killed me when he got the chance.” 

“Liv, I know you’re upset, but please, don’t say that,” Claire says, her voice gentle yet assertive.

“Why? It’s true. I wish he would’ve killed me. He took four years of my life that I can never get back. At least if he’d killed me I wouldn’t have to suffer now.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you saying things like that.”

“You don’t get it,” you say. “Every time I look in the mirror, I want to vomit because I see what he made of me. I can’t even meet a nice guy and allow myself to like him without seeing his face and hearing his stupid voice in my ear, telling me—telling me that no one will ever love me, that he tainted me, and that I will never be free of him because I can’t exist without him.” You break into a sob. 

“And he was right, you know,” you cry. “I ran from him. I made the hardest decision of my life after years of living in his shadow, and I almost died. Because of him, I can’t trust a kind and respectful man who treats me like a person to actually be kind, and I recoil at the thought of someone being gentle with me. Something is seriously broken inside of me, Claire. Very, very broken.”

Claire opens her mouth, but all she can do is bear your tirade. She knows that if she speaks now, you will find another reason to shut her down. This is your pain talking. It’s a powerful avalanche set out to cause destruction on a global scale.

“With Matt, I—” you exhale. “I was myself around him for the first time since I ran away, and he didn’t shy away. I had hope, Claire. I felt like I could finally step into normal life again after settling down here, and I thought I’d have a chance,” you say. “But I just have to close my eyes, and John is right there to ruin everything for me. He is always right there, and I can’t fucking escape him. That’s the problem. That’s why I can’t be happy about this date because I’m fucking terrified. I can’t go through this again. I—I can’t give myself to someone again because there is hardly anything left of me. He took everything, including my ability to love another man ever again, and that thought is fucking with my head.”

You fall silent. The tears continue running down your cheeks, and you bury your face in your hands. Your knees are so weak. You don’t have it in you to hold yourself up any longer. You drop to the carpet, crying into your hands, but you don’t sob. You stay silent because your pain is so great, you don’t know whether to scream or shut down, so you scream internally and shut down from the world around you because you can’t face it. You can’t face Claire. 

The couch creaks. Her feet brush against the carpet. “He abused you,” her voice borders above a whisper. 

She kneels beside you, her hand reaching out—but not touching you. She knows what lines to cross and which to better leave untouched.

“What he did to you wasn’t your fault. He’s a cruel man with cruel intentions.” When you don’t shy away from her proximity, she finally places her hand on your shoulder. “You did the impossible. You survived. You’re here now because you chose to save yourself, and that is so admirable,” she says. “It’s been two years. You’re safe here, you’re not alone anymore, and I know it hurts and it is terrifying, but it’s a good sign that you want to feel more of what this guy made you feel.”

“But I can’t,” you choke out. 

“I know, and I wish I could help you, but I’m not a professional. The truth is, John may have made you feel like there is nothing left of you, but you’re not Olivia Clarke. You’re still you. You’re still…” Claire takes a deep breath before she utters your name. Your real name. The one you were given when you were born. 

The mention of your name makes you shiver. “She’s gone,” you say. “He killed her, but he left her body alive.”

“She’s not gone, she’s just buried very fucking deep. I mean, you said it yourself. You could be yourself around this other guy, and he took you for who you are. That isn’t Olivia, that’s you. And it’s such a good sign that you want to go out with him. That you like him. John hurt you, but he didn’t break you beyond repair. Please, you have to remember that.”

Your tears slowly subside. Her words finally manage to reach your rebelling mind through your ears. Even though everything feels like it has been wrapped in cotton, she manages to get through to you like no one else. It was a subconscious decision to come to her, but perhaps your soul knew something that you didn’t, and you can’t say that opening up didn’t help. 

The mess slowly subsides. Left behind is nothing but hot air, and the words Claire decided to share with you. 

You look up to meet her eyes. She smiles down at you. “I just… I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whisper.

“That’s why I think you should go on that date,” she tells you.

“Yeah, but who wants to sign up for a mess like me?”

“Seems like he does. And if he’s a good guy, he’ll like you regardless of your mess.”

“You know it’s not that easy.”

She shrugs. “I hate to break it to you, but you can’t pretend it never happened. And you can’t give John the satisfaction of putting your life on hold because of him. That’s just giving him what he wants.”

“I don’t want to give him what he wants,” you’re quick to answer.

Claire hands you a tissue, and you take it gratefully, wiping your runny nose and the salty tears stuck to your dry skin.

Her words stir something within you; even though you don’t want her to be right, she is. Matt may not deserve a mess like you, but if he’s truly a good guy, it can’t hurt to see if it would work between you. And when your past comes out eventually, there is a chance that he won’t abandon you. A slight chance, but a chance nonetheless. That’s a positive outlook you still have to learn how to adapt.

“C’mon.” Claire helps you off the floor and onto the couch. 

You reach for the bottle of wine instantly, but she takes it away from you. She screws the top back on and places it aside, far out of your desperate reach.

“This is not the answer,” she says, “talking is.”

“Can’t we talk and have wine?” you counter.

“Not when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

You sniff, wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks with the tissue. 

“We need to take care of you, and alcohol won’t fix your problems.”

Once again, she isn’t wrong. You let out a defeated sigh before dropping your head in her lap. 

A long time ago, you used to be an affectionate person. The fear of being hurt again, of someone raising their hand against you, took that away from you. With Claire though, it’s different. You know she won’t hurt you. She’s not that kind of person, and you can say that with complete certainty. 

Claire Temple is not a violent human being, except for when the people she loves are in danger, but only then. 

She gently brushes the hair out of your face and crumbles it into a messy bun at the back of your head. She wipes at your nose and the last of your tears before they can dry out your skin more than it already is. The past couple of days have taken an emotional and physical toll on you. 

You wince slightly when you notice how sore your nose is. It isn’t broken, but you still got hit. You’re not quite healed yet. A shiver rolls down your spine. 

Shaking her head, Claire gently removes her hand. “You always get yourself in trouble when I’m not around,” she mutters. 

You scoff softly. “Maybe that’s a sign.”

“A sign for you to be more careful, yeah,” she says. 

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” You try to joke, but your voice falls flat with the weight of your exhaustion. 

Claire offers you a chuckle, but it’s more of a pity laugh than anything else.

You sigh. You know that you’re not an example when it comes to the significance of making the right decisions. Not at all. 

“Did I ever thank you for saving my life?” you ask her then, breaking the silence between you in two.

She leans back against the cushions. “Once or twice.”

“Not nearly enough then.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean, if you hadn’t come into Metro General with your hand in a man’s chest cavity, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to help you. You chose to stay.”

“Well, I had my hand on his vena cava, so, letting go would have been unfortunate for the poor guy.”

“That’s true.”

“But if you hadn’t disobeyed protocol, risking your job by putting your trust in me, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stay.”

Claire looks down at you, and you meet her eyes. “That sounded a lot like a love confession,” she nudges you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “You wish.”

“Hey, I’d understand it if you were in love with me. I’m hot.”

She never fails to make you laugh, even when you feel like a truck has rolled you over and broken every bone in your body. That is one of the many qualities you value about her. She’s a good person with a good heart, and she is the kind of person you could trust with your life and she would always make sure that you come out on the other side unharmed, mentally and physically. 

If she hadn’t taken you under her wing, you’re not sure where you would be, but it surely wouldn’t be where you are now.

When your laughter quiets down, you nod. “I can’t argue with that. You are hot. If you weren’t my friend,” you say, “I’d ask you out.”

“And if I were into women, I’d say yes,” she says. 

“I appreciate that.”

“Speaking of dates though–” She stops when you sigh a little too loudly. Claire shoots you a stern glare before she continues, “Promise me you won’t cancel.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. She wants you to mean it. You won’t lie; canceling your plans with Matt did cross your mind, but after Claire worked her magic on you, you can see a little clearer. The fog that kept your mind clouded has started to lift slowly but steadily. You’re no longer spiraling as fast as you have before. 

If you could wash your hands and wash him off of you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem as it is, but you’ve tried. You have tried washing all memory of him off of your body, out of your mind, but he’s a resilient son of a bitch. John will always try to drive a wedge between you and a normal, happy life, the question is just if you will allow him to do so without even being near you, or if you will finally allow yourself to crawl out of the dark hole he tossed you into. 

You can’t do it alone, and asking for help is terrifying. You have spent the past two years trying to push through. Unfortunately, your healthy coping mechanisms won’t work forever. 

You sigh again, a little quieter. “I won’t cancel,” you tell her, your voice barely above a whisper, yet still so very certain. As certain as you can be, anyway. 

“Thank you.” Claire reaches for the wine bottle next to the couch. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Hm,” you can only murmur. 

“What?”

“What are you doing with the bottle?” you ask. 

“Drinking,” she says. 

“Now I feel betrayed.”

“You should celebrate the fact that you found a Matt, or whatever his name is, and not another Mike.”

You promptly sit up. “Hold up. Pause. Rewind. Mike, like your ex?”

Claire takes a sip of the bottle. A storm rages behind her hazel eyes. You have never seen her that conflicted before. 

“Is he the personal reason why you’re subjecting yourself to a constant allergic reaction by staying here?” you ask. 

The pieces slowly start falling into place. She nods. “Not Mike Mike, but yeah. It’s always the Mike’s.”

Your jaw drops. “I feel like you skipped some chapters there. You met a guy and you didn’t tell me? What–”

“He met me,” she corrects you. “I didn’t tell you because we’re not a thing. Let’s just say there’s a reason his name is Mike. That’s why I’m here.”

Claire takes another sip. You watch her closely, trying to catch her in a lie, but it seems like she’s telling the truth—or a version of the actual truth, but that still makes it true. She’s giving you as much as she can after you cried your eyes out to her. 

You clear your throat, lowering your voice. “But you’re not in danger?” you ask to clarify. 

She shakes her head. “I just have shitty taste in men, even if it's platonic, apparently. It’s like… I’m trying to exist, and then I find a stray cat in a dumpster, but the stray cat has been stabbed and needs medical attention.”

“But you’re allergic to cats and you’re not a vet?” you try to make sense of her analogy. 

When she lets out a sigh and nods, you figure you came as close as possible. It still doesn’t make sense to you, but when does anything? At least when it comes to romance and people’s love lives.

You decide to push a little more, “Did you actually find an injured guy in a dumpster?” 

She shakes her head. The reaction comes a little fast, but you don’t question it. “No, that–that was just an analogy,” Claire says. 

“And Mike is the stray cat in that analogy? But not your Mike, another Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“Dude, you’re frying my brain cells.”

“The single one you still have, or did you buy new ones?”

You try not to laugh, trying to look like you are genuinely offended, but your lips still curl up into a smile. “Shut up,” you mutter. You reach for the bottle, against better judgment, and take a sip.

Claire shakes her head. “What I’m trying to tell you is that, if he’s a good guy, you can’t let him slip away. You can’t let a good thing slip away and possibly end up with a–a Mike kinda guy for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” You look down at your hands, your broken fingernails, and sore knuckles from the constant scrubbing. “I just wish I could understand what he’s doing to me without questioning my entire existence.”

“Some people are just that enigmatic,” and she sounds as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about. 

You wonder about Mike. Not her ex-boyfriend but the one she mentioned. He sounds like he has no sense of self-preservation, and he may not even be a good influence. He reminds you of yourself, and that’s creepy—you don’t even know him. 

And then there is Matt, who is also so eerily similar to you, but in different ways. It’s more of an emotional connection. His heart is in the right place. And unlike the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, he doesn’t have a savior complex.

Why did he even come to your mind? His existence should not be playing into the equation. You brush the picture of his chiseled chest in that tight shirt away, or the way he looked even more dangerous with that smirk below the the mask. 

You hand the wine bottle back to Claire. If you don’t cut yourself off now, you will melt into a puddle of embarrassment. 

Your focus should be on Matt and Matt alone. You have to try. Claire was right. You can’t sacrifice your happiness because you’re scared—you can’t give the man who dedicated his life to breaking you and your confidence down the satisfaction of cowering in fear every time a man shows an interest in you. A good man. A man who could make you happier than he ever had. 

You won’t run this time. You will face the situation head-on. You owe that much to the little girl who dreamed of a life beyond the hell she grew up in, the same girl who was obsessed with finding her soulmate and still believed in true love. Above everyone, you owe it to yourself. No one else matters quite as much as you do. 

And for the sake of seeing what could be instead of wondering what could have been, you have to try.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia

[muiitoloko]

Hiii, may I req for either a colin firth/reader or harry hart/reader fic wherein theyre exes turned lovers? Thank u !!

Title: In the Line of Love

Summary: When duty demands they act as a romantic couple, Harry and his ex-girlfriend can no longer avoid the tension that simmers between them. Old wounds resurface, but so does the undeniable chemistry they once shared.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied sex, foul language

Author's Notes: Honestly, I had no idea what to write, so I just ended up putting together something short and quick. Sorry about that! My brain has been on a bit of a vacation lately 😅

Also read on Ao3

The tension between you and Harry was palpable as the two of you stepped into your cover roles, pretending to be the perfect, loving couple for the sake of the mission. It should have been easy enough—after all, you had done this countless times before with other agents—but with Harry, things were… complicated.

It had been months since you and Harry had dated, and though your relationship had started out with undeniable chemistry, it had ended in a mess of unresolved feelings and sharp words. The two of you had avoided each other ever since, exchanging only the bare minimum of conversation when duty demanded it. Yet, somehow, you were always paired together, as if fate—or perhaps Merlin—was having a laugh at your expense.

Standing in the lavish hotel room now, dressed to the nines for your cover as a high-profile couple, you couldn’t ignore the way Harry’s eyes lingered on you. His gaze was intense, darker than usual, and you could tell he was thinking about the same thing you were: the last time the two of you had been this close, both in and out of the bedroom.

“Still can’t believe Merlin thought we would make a convincing happy couple,” Harry muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with dry humor, though there was an edge of something else there—something deeper, darker. His brown eyes flickered to yours, challenging, as though daring you to respond.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain the professional facade, but you couldn’t help the sharp retort that slipped from your lips. “Maybe because we used to be one,” you shot back, your voice low and biting as you adjusted the neckline of your dress. “Or did you conveniently forget?”

Harry smirked, the kind of smirk that made your blood boil and your pulse quicken all at once. “Oh, I remember,” he said, his tone dirty and teasing as he stepped closer, the air between you thick with tension. “I remember everything, darling. Every touch. Every moan. Every time I made you scream my name.”

You swallowed hard, hating how easily he could affect you even after all this time. “That’s all in the past, Harry,” you said, your voice sharp as you tried to focus on the mission, on the task at hand. But it was difficult when his presence was so overwhelming, when every inch of him radiated that same irresistible mix of danger and desire.

Harry chuckled softly, his hand brushing against your waist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You say that,” he whispered, his voice low and dirty, “but I can see it in your eyes. You remember too. How good it felt when I had you against that wall, your legs wrapped around me, begging for more.”

Your heart raced at the memory, heat pooling low in your belly as his words stirred something inside you that you had tried so hard to bury. You glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he still affected you. “We’re on a mission, Harry,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. “Focus.”

But Harry wasn’t backing down. If anything, your resistance only seemed to fuel him. His hand slid lower, resting on your hip as he pressed his body against yours, his lips brushing against your neck in a way that made your knees weak. “Oh, I’m focused,” he growled, his voice a low rasp as his fingers traced the curve of your waist. “But it’s hard to stay professional when all I can think about is how good you’d look under me right now.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were both lost in the intensity of the moment, the mission forgotten as the unresolved tension between you flared to life. You could feel the heat of his body, the roughness of his touch, and it took everything in you not to give in to the desire that had always simmered just beneath the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

With a deep breath, you pulled away from him, the heat from his body lingering on your skin as you stepped back. Setting your lipstick aside, you turned to face him, your anger flaring to life. "What the hell game are you playing, Harry?" you snapped, your voice sharp and accusing as you met his gaze. "Or have you conveniently forgotten that you were the one who ended things between us two months ago?"

Harry's smirk faltered slightly, but his eyes still held that infuriating mix of amusement and desire. He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"No, don’t even try," you cut him off, your voice rising as you took a step closer to him, your heart pounding with a mix of fury and hurt. "You ended it, Harry. You walked away. You were the one who said it wouldn’t work, that we needed to ‘focus on the mission.’ So why the hell are you teasing me now? What, no other woman’s falling for your charm, and now you’re coming after me again?"

You could see the shift in his expression—surprise, then a flicker of something darker as your words hit home. But you weren’t done. Not by a long shot.

"Are you really that desperate to get your dick wet?" you hissed, your voice laced with venom as you stepped closer, your chest brushing against his. "That you’d come crawling back to your ex-girlfriend, thinking I’d fall for it all over again? Is that it, Harry? Are you so pathetic that you can’t handle the thought of being rejected by anyone else, so now you’re back here, hoping I’ll give in like I used to?"

Harry’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words, and for a moment, the room was thick with the tension between you. He opened his mouth to respond, but you could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his pride and his desire.

"Don’t flatter yourself," he finally growled, his voice low and dangerous, though there was an unmistakable edge of hurt beneath it. "I’m not here because I’m desperate. I’m here because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you."

You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his voice, the way his usual confident facade seemed to crack for just a moment. But you weren’t ready to let him off that easily.

"Thinking about me?" you scoffed, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "Is that what you call it? Thinking about me when it’s convenient for you? When you can’t find anyone else to fuck?"

Harry’s eyes flashed with something dangerous, and before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you flush against him. "Don’t push me, darling," he growled, his voice thick with both frustration and desire as his lips brushed against your ear. "You know damn well that no one else can even come close to what we had."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his breath tickled your skin, his grip firm but not painful. And damn him, even in the middle of your anger, you could feel the pull—the magnetic attraction that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

But you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

"Then why did you end it?" you whispered, your voice quieter now, though the hurt was still there, sharp and undeniable. "If no one else compares, why the hell did you walk away?"

For a moment, Harry didn’t answer, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you, his dark eyes filled with conflict. Then, finally, he let out a low, frustrated sigh, his grip on your wrist loosening as he stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

"Because I’m a fucking idiot," he muttered, his voice barely audible, though the bitterness in it was clear.

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut, the anger inside you wavering as you stared at him, unsure of what to say. You had expected him to argue, to throw more barbs your way, not to admit… that.

"Harry…" you started, but he cut you off with a rough shake of his head.

"Don’t," he muttered, his voice thick with frustration as he turned away from you, his shoulders tense. "Just… don’t."

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound your ragged breathing as the weight of his words hung between you. You had expected a fight, a verbal sparring match like the ones you’d had before. But this… this felt different. More real. More raw.

And as you stood there, watching the man you had once loved struggle with his own demons, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as simple as you had thought.

You sighed, turning back to the mirror as you resumed applying your makeup, the tension from your argument with Harry still buzzing faintly in the back of your mind. You focused on the task at hand, trying to regain your composure for the evening ahead. In the reflection, you caught sight of Harry, pacing the room behind you, clearly trying to keep himself busy. His fingers trailed over his glasses, which had been resting on the bedside table, and with a quiet breath, he slipped them on.

You watched as he sat up straighter, the familiar gesture signaling that he was about to check in with Merlin. A moment later, you heard the soft tone of his Kingsman glasses connecting him to HQ, and his voice became all business—steady, professional, but still with that edge of charisma that never seemed to leave him.

"Merlin," Harry said in a low voice, glancing briefly toward you before focusing on the conversation. "We’re in position. The dinner’s in a few hours, and the target should be downstairs with his wife by then. No changes on our end. We’ll proceed as planned."

You continued touching up your lipstick, trying to keep your focus on the task and not on the way Harry’s voice stirred memories from the past. As frustrating as things had become between the two of you, you had to admit—he was still damn good at his job. Professional. Calculated. And frustratingly attractive in that sharp suit of his.

The mission was clear: get close to the target couple, make friends, and slowly work your way into their trust. It was a long-term operation, and neither you nor Harry knew how long you’d be in Sweden. The days could stretch into weeks, maybe even months, depending on how quickly you could gain the information you needed. It meant maintaining this façade of a romantic couple—a charade that was proving to be far more complicated than you had anticipated.

As Harry continued talking to Merlin, updating him on the latest details, you couldn’t help but glance at him again through the mirror. His posture was composed, his voice steady, but there was a tension in his shoulders that betrayed how much this situation was getting to him. Perhaps it wasn’t just the mission weighing on him—perhaps it was the unresolved feelings lingering between you.

You turned your attention back to your reflection, fixing the final touches to your eyeliner as you heard Harry wrap up the call.

"Understood," he said in that calm, clipped tone. "We’ll check in after the dinner. Galahad out."

The connection ended with a soft beep, and Harry removed his glasses, setting them back down on the bedside table. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the mission—and everything else—hanging in the air between you.

Finally, you broke the silence, your eyes still focused on the mirror as you adjusted the neckline of your dress. "So," you said, your voice casual but with an underlying tension, "romantic honeymoon, huh?"

Harry gave a small, dry chuckle, standing from the bed and straightening his tie in the reflection of the mirror. "Seems fitting, doesn’t it?" he replied, his voice laced with that familiar, teasing sarcasm. "Playing the part of the perfect couple, when in reality, we can barely be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off."

You smiled despite yourself, shaking your head as you put away your makeup. "Just stay focused on the mission, Harry. We need to get close to the target, not each other."

Harry smirked, adjusting his jacket. "For the sake of the mission, darling, I’ll do my best to resist your charms."

You rolled your eyes, standing up and smoothing out your dress. "Just don’t let your charm get us into any unnecessary trouble."

Harry’s expression softened slightly, his eyes flicking over you with an unreadable intensity. "Trouble seems to follow us wherever we go."

You didn’t respond, instead grabbing your clutch and heading for the door, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you as you walked past.

The mission awaited downstairs. And whether you liked it or not, Harry would be right there beside you, playing the perfect partner in every sense of the word.

The dinner was lavish, a perfect display of wealth and elegance. You and Harry were seated at a round table, surrounded by the target couple and a few other high-profile guests, all of whom were oblivious to the real reason you were there. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and wine, but underneath the charm and smiles, the tension between you and Harry simmered quietly.

He played the part of the perfect partner, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as he leaned in occasionally, whispering something into your ear that made you smile and nod along, all for the sake of the performance. But each time his fingers brushed against you, or his breath tickled your skin, it was like a spark igniting something that had never fully burned out.

You could feel his gaze on you throughout the evening, dark and intense, even when he wasn’t speaking. And though you tried to focus on the mission, on the task at hand, it was impossible to ignore the way your body responded to him—the heat that bloomed low in your belly every time he so much as glanced in your direction.

By the time dessert was served, you were both locked in a delicate game of cat and mouse. Harry's hand would linger on your thigh just a little too long, his touch sending jolts of electricity through you. You'd press closer to him when you spoke, your lips brushing his ear just enough to make his breath catch. It was all part of the act, but there was no denying that beneath the surface, the chemistry between you was undeniable.

As the evening wound down and the guests began to retire to their rooms, Harry stood and offered his hand to you, the perfect gentleman. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of something darker—something hungry.

You nodded, placing your hand in his as you both excused yourselves from the table. Together, you made your way through the grand hotel, your heels clicking against the marble floor in the quiet hallway. The air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you spoke as you entered the elevator, the doors closing behind you with a soft whoosh.

The moment the elevator doors sealed shut, the carefully constructed façade began to crumble. Harry’s hand tightened around yours, and when you turned to look at him, the raw desire in his eyes made your heart race.

"How long do we keep pretending?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped closer to you, his body towering over yours. "Because every time I touch you, every time I have to play the doting husband, it gets harder to remember why we’re even fighting this."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as his words echoed in the confined space. "Harry…" you started, but the words died in your throat as he backed you up against the elevator wall, his hand bracing against the cool metal beside your head.

His breath was warm on your skin as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Tell me I’m wrong," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a hunger that matched your own. "Tell me that you don’t feel it too."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body aching to close the distance between you, but your mind fought to stay rational, to remember the mission. "This is dangerous," you murmured, though your resolve was quickly crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

Harry’s smirk was slow and wicked as he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours in a barely-there kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Danger’s never stopped us before."

The kiss that followed was anything but tentative. It was fierce, filled with months of pent-up frustration and unresolved tension. His hand slid up your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moved hungrily over yours, tasting, claiming. You moaned softly into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate to feel more of him.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the empty hallway that led to your suite, but neither of you moved. Harry’s hand gripped your waist tightly, his lips still pressed to yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.

When he finally did break the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. "Tell me to walk away, and I will."

But you didn’t want him to walk away. Not anymore.

Instead, you grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway, your heart racing as you both stumbled into the suite. The door hadn’t even fully closed before Harry had you pressed against it, his mouth on yours again, his hands roaming your body with a desperation that mirrored your own.

Clothes were discarded hastily, the need between you too strong to wait. Harry’s hands were rough but sure as they explored your skin, his lips trailing down your neck as you gasped and clung to him, your back arching as he pressed his body against yours.

"I’ve missed this," he growled against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he nipped at your collarbone. "Missed the way you taste, the way you feel."

Your breath hitched as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, lifting it over your head in one smooth motion. "I’ve missed you," you admitted breathlessly, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Harry froze for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto yours as if searching for something—some sign that this wasn’t just the heat of the moment, that there was more to this than just lust. And in that moment, you knew there was. There always had been.

Before either of you could speak, Harry’s lips were on yours again, but this time the kiss was different—softer, more tender, as if he was savoring the moment. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you deeply, and you could feel the shift between you, the chemistry that had always been there now igniting into something far more dangerous.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, his voice was low and filled with an emotion you hadn’t heard from him in months. "We shouldn’t have ended things," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I was an idiot for letting you go."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared up at him. "Then don’t let go this time."

With a low growl, Harry lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you. His lips found yours again, and as he made love to you that night, it was with a passion and intensity that left no doubt in your mind that this was more than just a rekindling of old flames.

This was the start of something new—something neither of you could walk away from this time.

[callsigndragon]

A Rebel in my Soul [2023 ver.] | Ch.1 New friends and old enemies

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!pilot!reader (Call sign: Rebel)

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: mention of Goose and Carole’s death, mentions of death, Jake being an asshole, mentions of drinks, Fanboy being a literal sunshine, you know the deal.

A/N: WELL WELL WELL. do i have self control? no. am i uploading this bc it is fun to sit and read my first series and think ‘i should’ve done this differently’ and changing loooots of things? yes. it is easier than just write a new fic? yep. And i’m loving every second of it. There’s gonna be major changes, i’ll be showing more rebel x dagger squad interactions and maybe this version will have more chapters than the original one.

A/N 2: reuploading this bc i realized MORE MISTAKES ugh

Tagging the usual people, if you want to be added, comment down below!

Masterlist

“Rebel shouldn’t be here” 

Those were Maverick’s first words when he saw your face among the profile pictures of all the aviators called for the mission. He knew that the survival rate on this particular mission wasn’t exactly high; that's what they called him. He was an expert at going against the odds.  

That's one of the many things you two had in common.  

“Any particular reason why, Captain?” Cyclone inquired, already regretting following Iceman’s advice to call Mitchell. 

“You know who she is.” 

Cyclone pressed a few times on his tablet, making your picture occupy the whole screen. “That’s why she’s here, Mitchell. She’s as good as you, but not so prone to breaking rules.”

“Do you know where her call sign comes from, right?” Maverick hinted, not sure if he understood what was the meaning of ‘rebel’. 

“It’s not because of you, Maverick. She never told anyone about her father,” Cyclone explained with a tired voice, wanting to end the meeting. “Look, you have no choices left. You either take this job or say goodbye to military life.” 

How was he supposed to reject the mission? Not only because of his daughter, but also because Goose’s son, Rooster, was part of the team. He couldn’t risk the life of his best friend’s son. He swore to Carole before she passed away that he would take care of her kid. He followed his friend’s death wish, and the only thing he managed to get from it was losing the only Bradshaw left in his life and his only daughter. Maverick knew he was in no position to ask for Rooster and Rebel to be taken off the team, but he wished he could. Actually, no, that was a bad idea. He had interfered in their careers long ago. If he wanted to have a relationship with either of the two ever again, he couldn’t do that a second time. He had learned it the hard way.

Rebel was only a few years younger than Rooster. And, as if he hadn’t learned the lesson the first time, he tried to pull his daughter’s papers. He didn’t want her to become a pilot and risk her life every time she was in the air. Of course, when she found out, Rebel swore never to speak to her dad again.  

Maverick knew that he had no choice but to join this mission as an instructor, to train the two of you, his kids, and pray that nothing went wrong when the time came. 

This was Maverick’s hardest mission to date. 

It’s been a while since you’ve been at the Hard Deck—at least two years. From what you’ve heard, Penny is now the owner of the bar. She is an old friend of yours, and having been in a complicated relationship with your father, you once dreamed that she would become your mom. Little Rebel was a very innocent girl. 

Looking around the bar, searching for familiar faces, you spot Coyote and Hangman playing at the pool table. These two being here can only mean two things: one, the mission is really complicated, and they need the best aviators out there. Hangman is the only aviator you know with a confirmed air-to-air kill. And two, Rooster will be here, too. 

“Rebel?” You hear a surprised voice behind you.  

You could recognize that voice anywhere, so when you turn around to see the smile on Nat’s face, you can’t stop yours. “Phoenix? Oh my god, it is so good to see you. Are you here for the super secret mission?” you say while getting close to hug her. 

“You thought that they could call the best of the best and leave me out of it?” 

“Fair point,” you agree, hugging her again. “I missed you so much.” 

“Missed you, too. Hey, let me introduce you to my friends,” she turns around to introduce you to the two tall men standing behind her. “Rebel, these are Reuben Fitch, call sign Payback and Mickey Garcia, call sign Fanboy.”  

“Fanboy?” you look at him, “Quite the call sign.” 

“Guess that’s what happens when you have a bit of taste,” he shrugs. 

“Hmm… which fandom?” 

“Trek,” he smiles proudly. 

“Trek is the best,” you agree. 

“Look at that, if it’s my new best friend,” Fanboy says, putting a hand around your shoulder and looking at Payback. “See? Someone with taste.” 

“You’re not getting rid of him now,” Payback warns you. 

“What would I want to get rid of him for?” 

Mickey hugs you closer, almost choking you in his embrace. “Oh my, I found my soulmate.” 

Phoenix looks around the place until she sees Hangman, then she sighs while rolling her eyes. “They really need to be desperate to bring an asshole like him.”  

“Nat, he’s an asshole, but he’s a talented asshole. He’s really good.” 

“Please don’t talk like him, I will throw up.” Fanboy and Payback laugh at Phoenix's antics. “Come on, let’s mess a bit with the cowboy.”  

You and your new friends approach the pool table, with Hangman raising his eyes as you get closer. “What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix! Oh, well, well, good little Rebel is also in the building! And here I thought we were special, Coyote”  

“Special like you? No thanks, I'll pass,” you retort, making Fanboy and Payback laugh.  

“Fellas, this here’s Bag Man,” explains Phoenix, standing right in front of the blonde. 

“Hangman” he corrects. 

“Whatever. You’re looking at the only Naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill,” says Phoenix. You look at her, wondering why she decided to say that to the new guys. Wasn’t she trying to mess with him? Why is she praising him?

"Stop," Hangman responds, his ego inflated.  

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.” There it is. Phoenix is roasting the shit out of Hangman. That’s your girl.  

“Cold War,” adds Coyote, as if it could make Hangman look cooler. There’s something you never understood about Coyote and Hangman’s friendship. Coyote is a better person than Hangman could ever be. Why would he be attached to an idiot like him all day? 

“Different wars, same century,” says Payback. 

“Not this one,” adds Fanboy. You’re really beginning to like these two.  

The look in Hangman’s face is priceless. See, Hangman got on your nerves every time you two were in the same room. But Phoenix was always ready to mop the floor with him because ‘nobody messes with my girl’. She was like the sister you never had. And by the looks of it, Payback and Fanboy will be joining Hangman’s roasting squad soon.  

“Who are your friends?” asks Coyote, trying to change the subject and always defending his friend. 

“Payback.”  

“Fanboy.” 

“Hey Coyote,” you say, looking at Hangman’s friend. 

“Hey.”  

“Who’s he?” you ask while signaling with your head.  

“Who’s who?”  

Your little group turns to look at the blond-haired man, who has been eating the whole time. He raises his head, looking surprised at all the attention he is suddenly getting. He is cute.  

“When did you get in?” asks Coyote, noticing his presence for the first time.  

“Oh, I’ve been here the whole time,” answers the man, smiling. He can’t be a pilot. Pilots are cocky little shitheads. He seems like the type of guy who brings your daughter home one hour before the agreed time just so he can earn her father’s approval.  

“The man’s a stealth pilot,” jokes Hangman, always trying to be the funny man of the hour.  

“Literally” 

 “WSO, actually,” he clarifies. A wizzo, of course. He kind of looks like it. 

“With no sense of humor,” Hangman gives the pool stick to Phoenix and leaves.  

“I’ll get us something to drink,” you say, approaching the bar. It seems like Hangman had the same idea.  

“Penny, my dear. I’ll have four more on the old timer," you hear him say, looking at the poor guy who surely had made the bell ring before. You feel your stomach turn when you see the face of your father. Why is he here? What is he doing at Top Gun? Is he coming back as an instructor? That didn’t work the first time he tried; he didn’t have the free will he needed. And he couldn’t break the rules in good old Maverick fashion. Penny looks at you with a little pout in her mouth, knowing how this whole situation is making you feel.  

You don’t make eye contact with him. Instead, you choose to converse with Hangman. “Need help with those?”  

He glances your way with an eyebrow raised. “What, you’re afraid I’ll let them fall?”  

“No, I was just offering,” you mutter, mentally scolding yourself for even trying to be nice towards him.   

Hangman looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.  

“What?” you grumble, not understanding why he is looking at you like that.  

“...you okay?”  

Wait, is he joking? Is he really interested, or is it just a joke? You decide to just follow. “Yes? Why?”  

“Because you’re being nice to me,” he deadpans. 

Before you can answer, you see Rooster walking through the doors of the Hard Deck. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and his aviator glasses. He’s tanned, more than usual. You know the moment he sees Maverick, hell is going to break loose. You need to avoid the confrontation. As long as you can, at least.   

"Roos!" you yell, sprinting towards him.  

“Look at that, my favorite Rebel!” He catches you in his arms, hugging you. “Did they call you too? You didn’t tell me.” 

“Well, it is a secret mission; how am I supposed to say anything?” you ask, stealing his glasses and putting them on.  

“Fair enough,” he says, while letting you down on the ground. “The others are here too?”  

“Yeah, even your best friend��  

“Phoenix?” 

“Bag Man,” he rolls his eyes and pats your shoulder.

“Let’s go with the rest,” you say as you walk away from the entrance, ignoring the feeling of your father’s eyes following you around.  

“Bradshaw, is that you?” calls out Phoenix.  You two get closer to her. “This is how I find out you’re stateside?” 

“Yeah, I just thought I’d surprise you.” 

Phoenix leans into the pool table, aiming at the next ball, before pulling the stick in the opposite direction and hitting Rooster. He bends in pain, and you can’t contain your laughter. Just like the old times. He looks up to her, smiling “It’s good to see you” 

“Good to see you too.”  

Hangman comes back from the bar, beers in hand, looking directly at Rooster. He gives one to everyone except you and Bob. Great, now you have to come back to the bar again. 

“Bradshaw. As I live and breathe,” he says while stealing the stick from Bob’s hands. 

“Hangman, you look... good.”  

“Well, I am good, Rooster,” he says, hitting one of the balls, his aim never failing. “I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true” 

You can see the rest of the aviators looking at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. Fanboy looks at you, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’. Yeah, you stopped being surprised by Hangman's ego long ago.  

“So, does anybody know what this special detachment is all about?” Payback asks.  

“No, mission’s a mission. They don’t confront me” Hangman cuts in, always needing to say the last word. Sometimes you just wish someone punched him in that stupid face of his.  

“As if he can care about something else that is not himself,” you whisper to Rooster.

"What I'm curious about is who will be the team leader. And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”  

“Oh, I can already hear the news, ‘Team leader Hangman leaves everyone behind,’” you declare, while taking off Rooster’s aviators. 

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” 

“Whoo!” Fanboy says before sipping from his beer.  

Hangman approaches you both with a smirk on his face and mischief in his eyes. The guy’s an asshole. Hot and good at his job? Sure, but you're still a jerk.  

“Well, anyone who follows you two is either gonna run out of fuel," he says while looking at Rooster. “Or get themselves kicked off the team.” Hangman looks at you as he finishes his sentence.  

It is true that you aren’t one to follow the rules to a T. You got Rebel as your call sign because of it. Your father always told you that sometimes you need to stop thinking and start doing. You have lived up to it ever since. It got you in trouble several times, but you were the first of your class, and even Hangman had trouble following you. You were really fast.  

Iceman told you once that you were just like your father. 

You really hope it’s not true.  

“But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment that never comes. At least she has more balls than you.”  

The group stays silent, Hangman’s words echoing in the air. Some of the aviators avoid your stare by looking at the ground. Seriously, what’s wrong with this guy? You walk closer to him, raising your head to look at him straight in the eyes.  

“Well, at least we have people willing to follow us. Have you looked around? Nobody will follow you as a team leader,” you point out; not even Coyote tries to argue with your point. He knows you’re right.

If looks could kill, you would probably be dead by now. He leans over you, his face so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. Green eyes piercing your own. If this guy were a bit less of an asshole, you wouldn’t mind having something with him. But hell will freeze over before you even consider being around him for more than ten minutes.  

“I would never follow someone like you,” he reiterates, not moving an inch. 

“Remember when I asked for your opinion? Oh yeah, me neither," you say, as you step aside, taking the stick from his hands and giving it to Bob.  

Hangman goes to sit with Coyote, with Phoenix getting close to you and Rooster.  

“Well, he hasn’t changed.” 

“Nope,” Rooster adds, agreeing with Nat. “Sure hasn’t.” 

“You know, everyone’s entitled to act like an asshole once in a while, but he sure does abuse the privilege.” Both of them laugh; you stay with Phoenix while Fanboy nods in the direction of the other aviators entering the Hard Deck. You don’t recognize most of them, but the ones you do are excellent pilots you’ve met on other missions.    

“What the hell kind of mission is this?”  

“That’s not the question we should be asking. Everyone here is the best there is.” Phoenix is right. These are the best of the best, actually. Hell, Hangman is one of the best, even if it’s hard to admit. You two are fast as hell; with you being the faster one and him having aiming skills out of this world. So, if you have been brought here to learn...  

“Who the hell are they gonna bring to teach us?” Phoenix asks the question you were pondering. You were taught by the best and are now the best. Who can possibly teach you more than you already know? And then it hits you.  

“Oh shit.”  

The person who is going to teach you is the same old man who is going to pay for this round of beers your friends are having.  

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.  

@xoxabs88xox

@pono-pura-vida

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

[williamrikers]

Thoughts on the Final Episodes of Enchanté the Series (and why the show should have ended after episode 8)

as i've said, i love enchanté the series. i love it very much up until episode 8. in this post, i'll talk about the storylines they pursued in episodes 9 and 10, how they each fell flat for me, and what i would have liked to see instead. a big thank you to @ranchthoughts for listening to me ramble about all of this before writing this whole 3k-word post!

so. these are the main storylines we got in episode 9 and 10:

theo and akk figure out how to be in a relationship

theo wants to be a writer, akk wants to be a photographer

akk is told he is out of theo's league. this makes him hesitant to be open about his love for theo

theo learns of his parents' divorce, finds out akk knew about it, tries to get his parents back together, and fails

theo is sick and akk takes care of him

theo decides to go back to france with his mother, theo and akk break up

akk is convinced that theo would rather be in a relationship with sun than with akk, until sun himself deus ex machinas this fear away

akk follows theo to france, proposes, the end

unfortunately, it seems the writers bit off a little more than they could chew there, throwing ideas at the wall and hoping some of them would stick. remember, up until episode 8, this was a campy, fun, "i'm going to make this guy confess his love to me" comedy. episodes 9 and 10 are way heavier than anything that came before and it's tonally very dissonant.

let's break these points down, shall we?

theo and akk figure out how to be in a relationship

i'm not super mad about this one. this storyline is mostly very sweet fluff: they're cooking together, kissing each other, marvel at how different it is to touch each other now that they're boyfriends, go on cute dates together. pretty standard bl fare. however, for a show that has been incredibly horny for 8 episodes (i talked in my other post about the many, MANY intricate rituals these two came up with just to touch each other), i was really wondering why theo and akk suddenly did a 180 and became the chastest of lovers. why weren't they allowed to be even a little horny? even just implied?

what i like about this plotline is that both characters make an effort to be good partners for each other. what i don't like is that this doesn't really include learning to communicate with each other (i'll come back to this one).

theo wants to be a writer, akk wants to be a photographer

this one is also fine in isolation. sadly, it didn't go anywhere. they talk about their dreams, then those dreams sort of get forgotten while everything else is going on. at the end, we learn that akk got a photography scholarship in france but to me, that felt unearned and part of the deus ex machina which i will discuss below. we never hear of theo's ambitions again, just like we never learn whether he managed to save the literature major or not. i guess bagging the love of his life as his husband is enough and his dreams don't matter?

akk is told he is out of theo's league. this makes him hesitant to be open about his love for theo

"If you don’t want them to talk, I think you should keep a low profile inside the university." (episode 9, 2/4)

we get this storyline pretty much out of nowhere. it's not clear to me why akk even takes this so seriously, in the first 8 episodes, he never had a problem making a fool of himself when it concerned theo. on the contrary, he never seemed to care too much about what others thought of him.

but one comment from his classmate and suddenly, he's hesitant about being seen together with theo. this could have been a good storyline, if it had ever gone anywhere. sure, akk can be insecure about this new experience, why not. but then his sister pretty much also tells him he is out of theo's league, and there is never a follow-up, never a moment where we see him getting over that or just talking to theo about it. you know, his boyfriend? who he should maybe tell that he's not really comfortable being too lovey-dovey at uni? who he should maybe tell that he's feeling like he doesn't deserve theo? who could have reassured him and they could have figured out how to proceed together?

but no, as it is it's just, akk is insecure at university, theo wonders why he's so distant. this never gets addressed again.

theo learns of his parents' divorce, finds out akk knew about it, tries to get his parents back together, and fails

this is actually the only one that i will wholeheartedly defend. i actually love the way theo was at odds with his parents: they didn't seem to listen to him or even know him at all (especially apparent in the beginning of the show), and likewise, theo had no idea what was really going on with them. it was a very well-set-up storyline that was actually there right from the very beginning, unlike all of these others.

and what they were trying to go for here was amazing! they tried to say something about love as a choice, love as something you need to work at, love as something that might not last a whole lifetime. (i'll come back to that later.) all this was missing was basically one conversation between theo and akk to pull it together and really make something GREAT out of it: i really wanted theo to actually talk to akk about what this discovery and his subsequent failure meant for him. what it meant for his approach to their own relationship. that could have been one amazing conversation but they just didn't write it, sadly.

i absolutely love that theo was forced to confront the fact that his parents had split up, that there was nothing he could do, that he had to accept it. i do not love the fact that the narrative then never forced him to be straightforward about his feelings for akk, not even when they met again in paris. i would have liked that man to learn that sometimes he needs to put on his big boy pants and actually TALK about his feelings! and the divorce storyline was where he SHOULD HAVE learned that--the set-up was perfect. all the writers would have needed to do was follow through.

similarly, i do actually love the conflict between akk and theo that arises here. to quote them:

"Why is everyone lying to me? Everyone. You, Dad, and Mom. Why did everyone I love lie to me?" - "I didn’t want to lie to you. But I’m an outsider. Who am I to say anything, Theo?" (episode 9, 4/4)

the beautiful thing about this is that they're both sort of right. this is a strong and worthwhile conflict! but it is solved by akk apologizing, theo saying he won't accept the apology, and then... neither of them ever talking about it again. NOT HOW YOU WRITE A CONFLICT RESOLUTION!!!

i'm honestly a bit mad about this. because that was their one strong conflict in these two episodes, and they just utterly failed to do anything interesting with it.

the other thing they failed to do anything interesting with:

"Not all couples in real life end up happily like in the novels, son." (episode 10, 1/4)

is this the right time to mention that i actually would have liked to see theo and akk break up and not get back together at the end? no? okay, i'll come back to that. it'll make sense, trust me.

theo is sick and akk takes care of him

so, after the divorce plot is taken care of, theo immediately gets BL Disease and needs to be taken care of. we all hate sponge baths. nothing much to be said here. except that theo fails to introduce akk as his boyfriend to sun (which is then not dealt with), and akk says "You will always have me by your side, Theo" (episode 10, 2/4) right before we learn that theo has decided to go back to france and won't have akk by his side. weirdly conflicting storytelling choices here for sure.

theo decides to go back to france with his mother, theo and akk break up

"Thank you so much for making me feel like I can still put faith in love. Because of you, I know I made the right decision." - "What decision?" - "I have something important to tell you. I’m going back to France." (episode 10, 2/4)

so although in this scene, theo says it was his decision, let me show you another quote:

"You look brighter than when you just got back." - "Yeah. It’s nice to live here. I have friends who speak the same language. And I get to stay with my beloved family." (episode 9, 2/4)

theo, up until episode 10, has shown absolutely no desire to return to france. he says at multiple points in the story that he didn't/doesn't have friends there, that he always felt incredibly alone. his grandmother is dead. sun (apparently the one person he ever hung out with) moved back to thailand. theo goes back to france solely out of filial obligation, which is certainly realistic from a cultural perspective... but why was it necessary to put this into the show if it didn't have an actual impact? just to have akk propose in front of the eiffel tower at the end? they could have done that literally any other way. be on holiday in france together, then akk proposes. just an idea.

i'm going to be controversial here, but personally, if they wanted to go for this story of theo having to choose his own family over akk, then it should have mattered. then they should have stayed true to the ending of the little prince and have theo and akk actually not get back together at the end. then they should have had a scene of both of them looking up at the stars and thinking of the other, unable to touch. unable to be together. as it is, theo going back to france lacks any sort of weight in the story.

and no, i know why them breaking up couldn't be the conclusion of the story. this is a bl. the boys have to be together at the end. (this is also why he's coming to me fell flat for me at the end--med should have been reborn. he and thun shouldn't have been able to stay together. just my opinion.)

anyway, since they needed to do the bl ending, i would have wanted to see theo and akk actually fight for their love. both of them. this storyline needed to have consequences, damn it!

as it is, there's no meaning to the decision. what is the narrative value of theo going back to france? it seems like a step in the wrong direction from a character perspective, like we're watching him regress. what is the narrative telling us? that akk needs to learn more about where theo comes from? why does akk need to make the big sacrifice though, while theo doesn't even need to learn to talk about his feelings?

it's all very unbalanced. the narrative doesn't make theo really confront his feelings for akk, we don't see him struggling over his decision to leave akk except in his conversation with sun, there is no indication that he tried to fight for their love, and it's left to akk to change his entire life and leave behind everything he knows just to be with a guy who doesn't even introduce him as his boyfriend. sorry, but... how does any of that make sense in the context of the first 8 episodes? you know, the episodes where theo desperately, desperately loved akk, where he kissed him like he couldn't breathe without him? what exactly happened to that theo?

akk is convinced that theo would rather be in a relationship with sun than with akk, until sun himself deus ex machinas this fear away

in keeping with the mischaracterization, akk somehow becomes convinced that theo doesn't love him any more.

i mean, in the show's defense, it is in character for them to be completely unable to communicate. they weren't able to communicate their love for and commitment to each other at any point, and i would have loved if the conclusion of the show had been that without communication, even the deepest love is doomed to failure. (there i go again with my they should have stayed apart agenda.) i mean, theo does the whole shebang with the book instead of simply talking to akk, OF COURSE they're not equipped to talk about something as big and life-altering as moving across the globe and what that means for them. or about their feelings for each other. but i would have really liked to see some consequences for that.

but no, sun just appears out of nowhere to tell akk that theo really loves him, no, really, theo told him that, trust me, bro.

"I love Akk so much. I don’t want to leave him. But I need to." - "The one hearing this right now should be Akk." - "I’m scared to tell him. I don’t want to hold him back. I don’t want him to wait. I have no clue when I’ll come back. I don’t want to be selfish." (episode 10, 4/4)

even sun is telling theo he should talk to his boyfriend.

there is something to be said in favour of a bl where the leads ostensibly don't choose each other, where they are convinced the other can genuinely be happier without them, and they choose the other person's happiness over their own, the way akk and theo are convinced they're doing. of course they're both wrong, but learning that from a deus ex machina instead of by talking to your own boyfriend... uh... nope, not a fan of that.

"I’ve been okay since the day you told me the news. I’d do the same if I were you. Of course, you can’t let her live alone. Remember what I said about your parents? I told you to respect what they choose. If I can’t even do as I told you, then I’m a hypocrite. I really am okay to let you go." (episode 10, 3/4)

i love this line. i wish it were in a better episode.

akk follows theo to france, proposes, the end

i guess marriage solves all communication problems. after sun plays the deus ex machina to solve the problem of akk and theo being unable to talk to each other, akk gets the help of another deus ex machina in the form of a scholarship to study in france. sure, whatever works for you. once again, i would have liked to see these two actually fight for their love. they should have had to put in the work! fix your communication problems! overcome the adversities of a long distance relationship! i mean this had mostly been a silly little comedy show, sure, but if they're going in that direction then they should commit, damn it!

unfortunately, they lost the comedy and camp aspect towards the end of the show, which was a shame. i think if they'd been a little more campy about this whole mess, then the ending might have worked better.

in conclusion... the show should have ended after episode 8

i feel like i've sufficiently demonstrated that the storylines in episodes 9 and 10 mostly went nowhere, the writers had a LOT of ideas, they didn't set most of them up properly and didn't have the time to resolve all of them properly either. i think this should have been a funny and sweet 8-episode-series that should have ended on the balcony kiss, and it's very sad that they didn't stick their landing.

so, here's what i would do: keep the divorce storyline in, but put it before the love confession on the balcony, maybe around episode 7. have theo learn that love might not last and then choose to be with akk anyway.

everything else can go. going back to france is the biggest offender here, this should be either left out completely or the series should have been a 12-parter, with the final four parts only dealing with this problem. ever since bmf, i know it is possible to write bls that have the main couple confess in episode 8 and still give them compelling and in-character conflicts for another 4 episodes while showing them grow closer together by overcoming these problems. but ideally, i'd just want to cut the return to france entirely.

i actually love the idea of ending the show with both of them saying enchanté to each other. however, that happened at the wrong moment, it wasn't narratively significant at that point at all. the point where that should have gone was after the balcony kiss! that's when they saw each other in a new light for the first time, that's when they met for the first time as lovers, when they both made their feelings clear for the first time. that's where the enchantés should have gone.

anyway, the show should have ended on the balcony kiss, both of them smiling at each other and saying enchanté.

thank you for reading 😘

[callioclops]

Woah, a pinned post

Figured I may as well start using Tumblr as an actual blog rather than a promotional tool for streaming that I no longer do and letting it just sit here and occasionally reblog something funny from my friends, so I'm making a introduction post.

Hi, I'm Calliope or Callie for short. I'm an autistic trans woman and I use she/her. My primary interests include structural analysis of TV and anime, and getting way too deep into the mechanics of various video games inevitably resulting in an attempt to flawlessly optimise whatever it is I'm meant to be doing. As you can imagine this draws me to roguelikes a lot, but also fighting games, RPGs, etc.

If you fall under any of these groups kindly fuck off: Homophobes, TERFs and other transphobes, and honestly just as a general catch-all if you harbour a hatred for any group of people for no reason besides their appearance or the way they refer to themselves.

Quick pre-emptive Q&A:

Why do you have anon asks turned off? - Simple answer is that I don't want anon hate. I think if you want to be mean to someone online you can at least have the courage to stand by what you said without hiding behind a circle with sunglasses. If you want to send an ask but don't want it to be public that it's you, put "[/p]" somewhere in the ask. If you aren't being hateful I'll respect your want to be anonymous. Obviously I'll still know but that's the best I can give.

What TV shows/anime do you usually talk about? - That's very dependant on what I'm watching at any given time. I'll try to keep this up to date (no promises) with what I'm currently interested in. At the time of writing (23/12/23) the two main ones are Rick & Morty and My Hero Academia. These two specifically I have heard are a turn off for a lot of people due to the fandoms, personally I don't really interact in that space.

What posts can I expect? - Probably not that many in all honesty. I'm writing this at 11pm and it's entirely possible that I'll just forget about this for weeks on end. But if I am to post it will likely be short rants about any of the above mentioned media. Either talks about specific episodes of a show or mechanical intricacies of video games. I like to imagine that it will be educational in a way that is completely incomprehensible in an academic capacity.

Why a cyclops? - Initially, I was attempting to 'transition' my online persona at the same time as I was transitioning in real life and wanted a pun or portmanteau based on my new name. Callioclops was the only one I could think of and I stuck with it. Over time though it really grew on me, I had design ideas for an icon (Thanks to @caeruluspirit for the profile image), I really just became engrossed in cyclopes and monocular creatures in general. I think part of this fascination also stems from an irl friend who has depth perception issues and once tried to explain it to me by saying "The sky is in front of the trees." I've been thining about that every so often ever since.

So yeah, I'm going to try and be a bit more active on here. Share a piece of my autism with a wider audience. If that interests you stick around, if not then by all means keep on moving.

[aki-chan2014]

Signal-a small bunch of happily-ever-after headcanons

In lieu of an actual second season for the original version of Signal (at least, that's the case at the time of writing this) and a lacklustre movie follow-up in the Japanese remake I have been thinking about what I imagine would happen next. TBH I finished watching Signal a little while ago, it's just taken me this long to actually make a headcanon post. I'd vaguely been thinking of writing fic, but couldn't quite pull the ideas into fic form so decided a headcanon list was the best way to go. That, and I recently finished a different k-drama and immediately thought I wanted to do some happily-ever-after headcanons for that, too. So that'll be next, eventually.

But anyway, here are all my happy ending ideas, under the cut because spoilers: (as a side note, I might still try and turn this ideas into fic in the future. I just don't know when)

There's no real way around it, in all timelines Jae-han does go missing. But, in the final fixed timeline, it's only a few years.

Most importantly, he's found alive. Injured, most likely, but alive. And he's cleared of murdering Kim Bum-joo and whatever else was pinned on him when he disappeared. The corruption in the police force and government is also exposed and there's a lot to sort out there, but steps are made to sort it.

Jae-han goes back to working as a homicide detective once he's recovered and the stuff directly tied to him is cleared, and builds a proper connection with Soo-hyun. They do start dating, but it's a very slow process. Slow, but steady. They are happy.

They do get married, eventually. They're low-key about this, but they do have a wedding to make their parents happy (esp Soo-hyun's mum, who 100% relishes getting to help her daughter pick the prettiest wedding dress). They do not have biological children, but are foster parents for a while and eventually adopt an older child. Most likely, this child is someone they meet from one of their cases, maybe a dependent of a victim or culprit who has nobody else to take him or her in. They will also probably end up having to occasionally babysit Soo-hyun's chaotic nephews, though they are less chaotic as they grow up, thankfully

Hae-young also gets married, probably either to a journalist or someone who works with children in some capacity. They have two, maybe three children together. Their names aren't directly honour names (from what I understand that isn't really a thing in Korean naming tradtions? Might be wrong?) but one kid's name will probably share a syllable with the names of Hae-young's brother and the other a syllable with girl who'd died in the bridge accident that Jae-han had known. I'm not sure who'd be a good pick for name-syllable-sharing for a third kid, so maybe just two.

Soo-hyun does end up a team leader, and of the Cold Case Team. In this timeline, it's formed in response to a completely different case but seen as a much more positive thing. There are still some snags, a few people who feel it highlights police failures to have such a team. But on the whole, the team is made with an expectation it will last-there are a whole lot of unsolved cases out there, after all.

As for Hae-young, the difficulties in his homelife didn't disappear once his brother was posthumously exonerated. His parents did get back together, and tried their best, but they had their own grief and trauma to unpack and that took a while. So he still needed to be fed by the porkhouse lady, and once Jae-han reappeared he continued to watch over Hae-young. Time would go by, and he'd decide to be a policeman just like the detective who cleared Sun-woo, not yet aware that that same detective was still looking after him.

They would eventually catch glimpses of each other during Hae-young's training. But the first time Jae-han and Hae-young properly meet is when Hae-young graduates his training.

With his memories of past timelines and all he learnt as a profiler there, Hae-young quickly garners a reputation for being 'clever' and 'well-read', 'insightful' and someone who has 'interesting ideas'. Various ways of explaining how he has knowledge someone his age shouldn't have, basically.

Jae-han introduces him to Soo-hyun socially (their first meal as a trio is omurice, which becomes a tradition, though they'll eat other things together on different occasions) she then takes an interest in him professionally and has him work with the Cold Case Team to see how he fits. She then gets the higher ups to send him on profiling courses, so he eventually becomes a profiler.

And after that, the Cold Case Team is a lot like it was throughout the series once the camaderie had been established. [side note: I loved the Cold Case Team dynamics so much they are a GREAT team]

Soo-hyun mentors Hae-young the way Jae-han mentored her. Hae-young gets called '0.25' by most of his close colleagues as a result (after all, Soo-hyun is the only '0.5' they can have).

All three of them garner reputations to be dedicated, hard-working and particularly brilliant in their departments in different ways. As mentioned above Hae-young is known for being clever, while Jae-han is known for persistence/earnestness and Soo-hyun compassion and composure in equal measures. They're all very committed to stamping out corruption and looking out for the underdog.

The walkie-talkie continues to be a lucky charm for Jae-han. It doesn't ever work again...well, not for most of their life. It only works right at the very end of Jae-han's life (illness related, when he's very elderly, so while it is obviously tragic it's more expected and natural, just as it should have been). He gets to say a proper goodbye to both Soo-hyun and Hae-young this way.

But with the goodbye for Hae-young, it happens while he's helping Soo-hyun and their adoptive child (plus one of Hae-young's children, plus possibly grandchildren of both) clear Jae-han's things after the funeral. They had shared the stories of the walkie-talkie but of course weren't really believed. Not that any of the three of them really expected them to believe it (well, maybe Jae-han did want them to, a little), because they told the stories as if they were an unusual kind of myth or something. But they hear the walkie-talkie, and talk to Jae-han one more time, and they realise it is real.

Of course, the walkie-talkie doesn't go off again after that. But it continues to be passed down between their families, and the stories shared too.

There will also be plenty of photographs, because one thing Soo-hyun becomes quite fixated on is having 'proper photographs' of all the people she cares for. It gets to the point that people assume she has a hobby of photography and start buying her cameras and camera equipment for birthday presents and things. She still keeps that silly photograph of her and Jae-han posing, but doesn't hide it behind the batman. Instead, it sits in a seperate frame next to it on her desk.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Radical Honesty

Dear Future Husband,

I’ve had this idea for several years now that people hide too much when it comes to dating and that we need a really radical shift in dating style. Instead of making up fluff and putting our best foot forward, maybe we should just put all our cards on the table and find someone who is ok managing that hand. 

So, with that in mind, I have something to confess... 

I’ve conducted a “social experiment” on one of the popular frum dating sites. I signed up with three different accounts: 

1. An actual account for me.* This was set up with a photo of me that is password protected and a bio that reflected who I am and had a lot of details without being overwhelming. 

2. A fake girl account that was quite different from mine and absurd too. The profile picture was originally a picture of me that I photoshopped the heck out of and then blurred it a bit, before shrinking it down to a small size so when the website enlarged it again it would look distorted. The text for each of the paragraphs was loaded with typos and made to sound stupid and artificial. 

3. An account for a fake guy with no photo or details at all. It’s basically a blank profile. This was primarily to see how my “competition” presented themselves and what kind of profiles they write so I could tailor mine to stand out. 

The goal of this experiment was to see what kind of responses these differing accounts would get from the dating public. 

Here’s what’s interesting: 

I set up the accounts when I was in my 20s and I’m in my 30s now. Pretty much from day 1, my actual account received a ton of messages from guys in their 40s, 50s, and 60s (more often that not, divorced).  Some of the younger guys who messaged me had ZERO social skills. Most of them disregarded all the details I put in the profile as though they didn’t even read it. 

The fake girl account got more messages from guys my age, half of them telling me I looked beautiful despite the photo looking completely demented and barely like a person at all. 

And the fake guy account got several messages from girls too, who wanted to know about him despite all signs that the profile is from someone uninterested in participating in the whole dating thing. 

I left the two fake accounts as is, but tried adjusting my real one several times, to try and garner appropriate responses from suitors. None of it worked. 

I made it sound lighthearted and that didn’t help. 

I made it sound serious and that didn’t help. 

I filled it with jokes and that didn’t help. 

I put bullet points for things I’m absolutely not interested in and that didn’t help. 

It just seemed like no matter what I did, nobody read it. 

And I’d like to chock that up to the fact that I didn’t have a visible profile picture, but neither did the fake guy account and that got messages from girls. Although, that could just be a difference between the sexes. 

But oddly, the fake girl account kept getting message requests. Some were definitely from older and creepy guys, but there were quite a few young guys there too. Maybe guys like bimbos who only want them for their money? 

I know I’m not in a place to get married at the moment, but I do still believe in “you never know” and “God works in mysterious ways” so I do keep my options open despite having little hope I’ll ever be a marriage person. But at the same time, I wanted the message requests to stop, so I changed my profile and went with the insane radical honesty thing. 

I obviously couldn’t put everything about me, but I FILLED that profile to the max. And I’ll share it with you here, Future Husband, because this is all stuff you’ll need to know too. I’m putting it behind a Keep Reading bar because it’s loooooong and I’m going to try being considerate of the like two readers I have here by not completely stealing their feed. But who knows, maybe you’ll read it and decide that my baggage is stuff you can handle (if you haven’t read everything in this blog up until this point....)

Without further ado: My Radical Honesty Dating Profile

-LivelyHeart

ABOUT ME

Hi there! Thanks for checking out my profile. I've had the same stupid "About Me" for a while, so even though I don't come on here that often, I've decided to change things up. I don’t remember when I last updated my profile, but let’s just assume it was 2018 or earlier. I think it wouldn’t be too surprising to hear that some things have changed in the interim. I mean, for one, the pandemic really did a number on people…

One of the things that's changed for me is that I've decided to be a bit bolder in personality and stop caring so much what people think about me. This is a work in progress and I do still care a lot what people think, but I figured rewriting this "essay" could be a large step in the direction of that kind of personal freedom. So, let me tell you some important things about me. I talk (a lot), I write (a lot), I overthink (a lot), and I over-explain (a lot). And the guy I marry will have to be able to not only handle that, but appreciate it too. I believe I'm a better writer than orator, so using that medium, I'm about to present you with probably the longest profile you'll ever read on a dating site (I mean, this section is titled "Essays"...). So strap in, bucko, it’s gonna’ be a wild one!

I tend to have strong views on things. Some might even say... polarizing. And I think it comes off as somewhat unexpected because I don't really look like the type of person who would have such strong opinions on things. In most company I'm pretty smiley and lighthearted and agreeable, but I'll get into that a bit later. I'm also generally a socially observant person and try to read the room and not share certain things I think/feel/believe with certain people because I know they won’t go over well. That being said, considering I don’t know who you (the reader) are, and you’re essentially entering my domain by reading any of this, I'm sharing some of these ideas freely and it's up to you whether or not you want to accept them. No pressure!

Let’s start here: I think the modern shidduch system is an absolute joke. (Like I said, some polarizing views.) I truly despise the way modern shadchanas is a “job” that expects large payments in return for a service. I think it goes against the entire idea of what shadchanas is supposed to be - the shadchan is the vessel through which Hashem makes the pairings. Yes, they deserve compensation for having done so, but the fees that are presented to new couples for the little work some of these shadchanim actually do is despicable. I think that making it a job has turned it from pairing up people with true relationship potential to manipulating couples together for the sake of the shadchanas gelt. As a friend who had a broken engagement said to me, “the shadchanim are more interested in making weddings than making marriages." And from what I’ve seen, that is succinctly accurate. The amount of lying and manipulating I’ve seen to get couples who are unsure of themselves and each other together is such a slap in the face to these individuals, and in so many cases is setting them up for dysfunction, devastation and divorce. It’s no wonder the divorce rate in the frum world is on the rise. It’s unconscionable and completely alst-Torah.

Having a negative view on the current system of dating won’t make me many friends, so I don’t share that opinion with many, but I think when it comes to these dating profiles we need to stop being so “open” to everyone and start gatekeeping a bit more. Statistically we’re all really looking for a needle in a haystack and it’s not worth our time or energy to not be clear about who we are from the get-go. I could be wrong though, and feel free to tell me if you believe I am, as I’d be truly curious to hear your perspective on this. But when you take the time to narrow the field from 8B people on planet earth, to approx. 15M Jews, to the 50% which is the gender you’re seeking in a partner, to the 1/3 of that group that identifies as Orthodox, to the 75% Ashkenaz or 25% Sephardi, to the age range, relationship status, mentally healthy, same hashkafah and value system, and ensure you speak the same language…. You end up with a pool of like 100 people from which to find a possible mate. Add in the family dynamics, economics, physical chemistry, emotional and temperamental compatibility…. We’re all searching for that 1 in a million person. Almost literally.

And yet, so many of the profiles I see on here say the same benign things. “I’m a nice person with a sense of humor and Torah is important to me. I’m interested in sports and working out. I’m looking for a girl who is sweet and family oriented, beautiful inside and out.” I mean, seriously? “A sense of humor” can mean so many things. Being “nice” should be standard, not a personality trait. If your only interest is sports.... I'm not even going to get into that here. And I’m pretty sure nobody is looking for a girl who’s rude, hates children, and is ugly to look at. Either you’re all getting dating profile advice from the same person or you’re all just super unoriginal. (Obvs not all, as there are some more unique profiles than that, this is just a generalization of the grand majority I've read) And maybe we're all somewhat unoriginal... but I'm trying something new here. When I read a profile, I want to get a real sense of a person’s personality. And I think when you read mine you should get a real sense of who I am too. Because when it comes to narrowing the field to find your bashert you shouldn’t have to waste time talking to a hundred girls either, just to find out you're so incompatible that if you'd known certain things to begin with, you wouldn't have even taken the time.

So, in the spirit of gatekeeping, let me tell you all the reasons you shouldn’t reach out to me: • I don’t know if I can have kids. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, even if it sucks and I hate it. I also know a woman who was told she could never have kids and went on to have like 13, so it’s truly all in Hashem’s hands. But I can’t in good conscience get into a relationship with someone who doesn’t know that off the bat, especially when having an heir is his mitzvah, not mine, no matter how much I desire the same thing. If you’re open to exploring a relationship where natural children may not be a possibility, feel free to read on. If that uncertainty is a deal-breaker: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • My parents are divorced. I know that shouldn’t matter, but it does. Statistically, children of divorce are most likely to head for divorce themselves, because the home they grew up in didn’t have healthy interpersonal dynamics. I mean, it makes sense, no? And I’m fully aware there were and still are major communication problems in my family that plague me to this day. My “normal” isn’t… normal. At the same time, I think couples therapy can be extremely helpful in these types of circumstances and I’m open to exploring healthy relationship dynamics with someone I can fully trust. But if you think that kind of work and the possible struggles that can come along with that is more than you can handle: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • I have a lot of baggage from my childhood (see parental divorce above). There’s a lot of emotional stuff I still have to work through and in the right time with the right people and the right space, I’ll be able to sort through it. I’m upbeat and positive in most company, I can be goofy and wacky and have been told I should be a standup comedian (nooooot gonna' happen... 😅), I see silver linings and can be dan lekaf zechus in most situations, but my natural baseline is super negative, so even when I’m at my highest, I’m still below most peoples’ averages. Considering the childhood I’ve touched on above and the fact that anxiety and depression are part of my genetic makeup, that’s not much of a surprise. But the person I spend the rest of my life with has to know that these dichotomous traits are both part of who I am. If that’s not something you can handle: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • I think our food is trying to kill us. (Remember when I said polarizing views?) It may sound like some kind of conspiracy theory, but between the way we’ve destroyed the American soil (I mean, global soil really, but American in particular since that's where I'm living) and the poisonous additives in most foods today that are actually illegal in other countries... I think even the healthy food isn’t really so good for us anymore. I'm pretty sure I have celiac. Or it might be a sensitivity that’s specific to American produce. Unfortunately I went off of gluten before I could be tested for celiac, but even oat challah in the US bothers me more than oat challah I’ve eaten in Israel with the exact same recipe. I want to raise my children without processed sugar, disastrous oils (cottonseed, anyone?) and food dyes, which means keeping a pretty natural pantry and fridge. That isn’t to say that some healthy “junk” food can’t be a part of our every day lives, but unless you already eat healthfully, it would mean a major overhaul of your diet and a lot of people aren’t ok with that. If you’re not ok with that: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • I’m more of a follower than a leader. Despite having really strong opinions and my comedic stylings, I hate being the center of attention and drawing eyes, so I’m more likely to shut my mouth and not speak up when I disagree with something. My greatest ambition when I was growing up was to just be normal and fit in, because there was so much turmoil in my life and I felt like a weirdo all the time. With the right people, like some of my friends, I’m able to be spontaneous and bolder in personality, but in my everyday life I get talked over and looked over, and although I hate it, I’d so much rather that than ruffle feathers. Part of that comes from trying to be the peacekeeper and not draw the ire of whoever was most upset/frustrated in my childhood home, and I’d say it’s almost to my own detriment as an adult because I don’t know how to speak up for myself when things are problematic. Even when things are wrong or I’m in pain, I keep it all inside and “go with the flow” until I’ve distracted myself sufficiently to not care about what’s wrong. Obviously when it comes to being in an open and honest intimate relationship with someone, this can’t be the case. Which means there’s a lot of growth that has to happen for me to get over this major hump. Again, if you’re not ok with working through stuff like that: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • I’m not a shul person. I wasn’t raised by a mother who went to shul regularly and when I did attend with my father when I was little, he didn’t exactly explain what it was we were doing or saying at certain parts, so as an adult, I still don’t know “the ways of shul." In addition to that, I’ve found very few shuls in my life that fit my belief of what a shul should be. The women chatting and hugging each other while the men are on the other side of the mechitza, merely feet away, trying to say kaddish or shemone esrei; some of the men wandering around in circles and trying to look through the mechitza or shlepping a kvetching baby around during davening, the children running in and out shrieking and laughing and crying; the stares from people who are just completely uncouth; the shoving and gluttony at the kiddushes… It’s all just so unappealing to me. If the shul is supposed to be our own mini Bais Hamikdash, our community Temple of God… we’re doing a really horrible job with it. (Strong opinions, remember?) So… if you expect your wife to be with you in shul every single Shabbos and for every single holiday/event, chances are I’m not the one for you, and now you know, so: you’re welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • I'm not an athletic person at all. I was born with feet problems and over the years have injured both a knee and an ankle that I probably should have gotten physical therapy for, but it was never prescribed. This makes most forms of exercise incredibly difficult and painful. I enjoy walking and hiking on occasion and usually do it solo so I can go at my own pace. If you're super into physical fitness like running, biking, skiing, rock climbing, etc, and hope to be able to do those things with your wife, I'm not the girl for you: you're welcome. Have a nice day and hatzlacha on your dating journey! • When it comes to personality, I’m kind of an extroverted introvert. If I had to pick, I’d say I have more of a cat personality than a dog personality, though I don’t own any house pets and don’t really want to (although, maybe chickens, one day…). I’m fairly comfortable staying in most of the time, though I do enjoy getting out and breathing fresh air somewhat regularly. I do well in quiet settings and I also enjoy social gatherings. Though, I’m much more comfortable being the host who brings people together (even if I spend majority of the time alone in the kitchen) than being subjected to the whims of someone else’s event/get-together, and being a social butterfly would never be an every-night kind of thing for me. Maybe it’s a control thing, maybe it’s an anxiety thing, or maybe it’s my way of regulating the extrovert and introvert that battle within me. No clue. • I feel like I should also add that as a single, never-been-married, woman in my 30s…. I don’t need a husband. But I want a husband. I’m ok being single. I mean, it's not my ideal, but I’ve done it this far, right? So what’s another 60-90 years? I’m not even sure how I ended up in my mid 30s already, so I think the rest of this century will go by in just as much of a blur. And I’m self-aware enough to know that what I deal with on a daily basis would be too much to bring to a relationship with someone else, especially someone who undoubtedly has baggage of their own that I’ll have to help shoulder too. It’s a lot. And it’s more than can be expected of anyone, so I get it if there’s nobody out there who can handle it all. I mean, this isn’t even everything! It’s just a small taste of what being with me would entail, and that’s important for you to know too.

I’m really good at chatting with people (for the most part, anyway…). I’ve had plenty of one-off conversations with guys who have expressed their desire to date me from just that one conversation (not a flex - this always gives me anxiety because I thought we were having a lighthearted chat and the things turn weirdly intimate) and I’ve had to rebuff their advances because their feelings were not reciprocated. Or because they didn’t share my hashkafos on a lot of things. Or because they weren't Jewish, which has happened too. It all has to be mutual, and that is, I think, the hardest thing of all. But they say that making shidduchim is as tough as splitting the sea, which for Hashem is a fantastically easy task. So, maybe you’ve read this far and you’re unbothered by it all. Maybe you have a life experience that matches mine in a way that we could work. If that’s the case: you’re welcome! You've made it this far and I clearly haven't scared you off! …yet. lol You're obviously open to at least hearing what I have to say, and that means you've passed the first test! (I did warn you it would be long!) If you have made it this far and want to message me, use the phrase blue turtles forever somewhere in your message so I at least know you've read this much. But there's still more to this profile, so read on and see what you think then.

I’M LOOKING FOR:

I can't really be too specific about someone I haven't met yet, but there are a few things I will not compromise on:

I'm 100% against: [1] smoking [2] excessive drinking (as in more than just on shabbos, yom tov, and for a l'chaim) [3] any kind of recreational drugs [4] unsafe/erratic driving, driving while texting or holding a phone

I'm looking for someone closer to my own age (-2/+5) and Ashkenazi, and I would also like the person I share my life with to: • have the ability to hold down a job but also make serious time for learning (and enjoy sharing what they learn) • be someone who will accept me for who I am, respect me and my past • be someone who enjoys having fun and can make me laugh - this is obviously subjective, though my sense of humor is full of puns, creative play on words, parody, sarcasm, absurd storytelling, and some dark humor • and I think “good with kids” is probably a given, but I felt I should add it too

Other beneficial traits I wouldn’t say no to: • green thumb - I would love to have a garden and grow our own food, so any experience and interest in that would be super • creative - I would love doing family projects together • handy - I enjoy assembling furniture and doing random DIYs but would love a husband who could take care of stuff like that too • nice singing voice - I wouldn’t say I’m the world’s greatest singer, but would love to be able to harmonize with someone

As a general rule, I'm most attracted to people who try to emulate the 13 attributes of Hashem in their own life. In particular - Rachum, Chanun, Erech Apayim, and Rav Chesed - people who live their lives with a focus on kindness, grace/mercy, and slowness to anger.

PLEASE NOTE: I'm not currently in a place in my life where I want to be a stepmother, and I feel kind of weird about dating someone divorced. Obviously context is important for why the person is in those situations, but having lived through dysfunction and my parents' divorce, for now it is a strong preference. It's also interesting to me that I keep getting messages primarily from divorced guys with kids, despite this being one of the things I have not changed on my profile despite many other updates, which makes me think you're not even reading any of this. If you've continued to read this far, use the phrase it's a mee a mareeyo somewhere in your message to me so that I can at least tell you've read up until here.

I'm a make-do-with-what-I've-got kind of person, but that doesn't mean I'll settle for the lowest hanging fruit. As my boss's friend once told me, "better to be miserable single than miserable married." 🤷🏻‍♀️

WHAT “MODERN ORTHODOX MACHMIR” MEANS TO ME:

I used to have this one set to 'Yeshivish Modern’ but when I actually take a step back and analyze the way I live my life I think I'm more 'modern orthodox machmir' than I am 'yeshivish modern'. I hate this whole labeling system, but there are some differences and I think I'm more 'modernish' than 'yeshivish'.

That being said, let's dig into how I define this particular label:

I like the look of a black hat on Shabbos, but I also like the idea of a married guy doing something that clearly delineates him from the single guys, like wearing a wedding band. (Not a wedding ring "exchange" at the wedding, just a gift given from wife to husband afterwards to be worn as a public sign of a marriage commitment)

And I partake of secular content:

I do try to censor what I listen to, but I grew up with a lot of non-Jewish music and still enjoy a lot of it. It's a comfort zone thing for me and while I don't necessarily agree with all the values shared in the songs, it's still something that's a part of my life right now. Most of these are songs I would never play for my kids and that would probably change things for me down the road.

I read secular books, but avoid reading them on Shabbos and yomim tovim, because I think they bring down the spirituality of the day and are the antithesis of what we're supposed to be doing on those days.

I watch TV shows and movies, youtube videos, etc. But I don't want to own a TV. I don't like the idea of a TV being the focal point of the living room or bedroom, and I don't want my kids to be raised in a home where that seems like the foregone conclusion for downtime. For the occasional movie/TV show, computers work just fine and can be way easier to close up and put away without it being an in-your-face temptation, but the values and language in modern children’s content isn’t anything I’d like my children exposed to all that much in general. I’m much more interested in fostering creativity and originality.

I also try to make a point of not watching/listening to any of the above during the week of Chanukah specifically. The whole point of Chanukah is that we fought against outside influences, particularly those of Hellenistic sentiment, and I think it's a slap in the face to the holiday for us to partake of the secular world during the time we're celebrating our triumph over it. Feel free to share your own personal 'traditions' with me. I'd be curious to hear how you choose to 'step up' your yiddishkeit.

So... modern orthodox, but... machmir. I think the label says it all.

[internetreadingpanda]

July 30, 2022

dear moon,

I don’t have words to describe what’s been going on in my life lately. In just 15 days a lot has changed. I feel like I have grown up a lot and also, I am turning 18 this august. This dark, dark realization of growing old. I have started smoking regularly and at times I even dislike it but it gives me peace. It makes me feel like the world has stopped and it is just me and this cigarette against all the chaos; voices in my head stop when I smoke and when the buzz fades it is all same again. That is why I hate it too but now I can’t help it too. I also drank vodka last week and after two pegs I was on the verge to cry. I do not know the reason, maybe it was because the demon had stopped speaking and it was just my heavy heart beating rhythmically. I did not cry because I was sad but because I was at peace and did not feel anything.

For the last few months, I had been talking to so many girls on ig. They seem to like me a lil but when I asked them out, they said, “ Yes, we can meet, but let’s not call it a date; there was no certainty. But then there is this girl, oh jeez, she is literally a goddess and has no flaws. I have been following her for a year. When I first followed her, since then I wanted to meet her. I used to take screenshots of her snaps, I would stalk her account to see her OOTDs and I had never imagined that I would get to go on a date with her. Can you believe how HUGE this is for me, like a dream come true? In moments like these, I like to think, that the universe is with me and it does want me to win. However, the next moment, it shatters my whole idea of winning. The next day after the date, my father messaged me, “I am not coming home ever and I am switching my phone off”. When I got this message I was working at paudha and I didn’t seem to care but when my mom called and enquired about him I kind of felt something is wrong. 

Let’s name this girl Helen because she actually is a goddess, Goddess of things I can never possess. Also, first, let me tell you something about her. She is from Bihar, resides in Delhi NCR, and both of her parents are working, she comes from a well-to-do family and has a 15-year-old brother. She dances and sings (not just a hobby), is brilliant at studies, goes to the gym, gotten offer letters from many respected universities, and will move to the US for post-grad. She has been to many countries and experienced all the adventures. She’s literally a 10. 

I have been talking to her for like a month and nobody has made me feel like she does. She genuinely seems to care about my day-to-day life and she gives back the same energy. She tells me every detail of her day and how badly she wanted to talk to me. We flirt, crack jokes, and tell each other stuff about families and ourselves. Although, I have not told her so much about myself yet. One day when I was at Ashu’s place (the day I got drunk for the first time) I called her and as usual, she told me about her day and how she’s close to her brother, he checked my IG profile then he went on like he writes such dark poetries meanwhile I was just listening to her. For a moment we ran out of topics so she asked me about my family and I got all blank, I did not know what to say. I told her I get uncomfortable whenever it comes to my family because of some traumatic past; then she was like yeah but yk sometimes I feel Idk who am I talking to and then we went on talking about something else.

The next day, I gave thought to what she said yesterday so I decided to tell her a lil about my family and I texted her about how my brother tried to kill my father and the result that my father tried to kill himself. Her reaction to this was all sorry and she asked when did that happen and she also said even if we date or do not I want you to know that I am always here for you. I felt as if some burden has gotten out of my shoulders because she did not judge me for this. These days, the best part of my day is talking to her, I start smiling when I see her text. I feel I can show her my scars and she’s gonna let me pretend I have none. She sometimes says things like “please don’t break my heart”, “promise me you won’t gonna fuck me up” to which I reply “I am no harm to you and you have the all supreme power to do anything to me. You are the actual main character and we are living in your world.” She finds me sweet and I think of her as a goddess. 

On Monday, when I was heading off for my evening practice her message came.

“Are you free tomorrow?” 

I replied, “I have cricket practice.”

then she said when do you get free?

I told her my practice schedule and she was like I only have time on Tuesday. She wanted to say please make it on Tuesday or else idk when we will meet but she did not say that directly as she did not want to sound selfish because I’ll have to miss my practice because of her. I understood the significance of the situation and I told her to meet tomorrow and that it is not a big deal if I miss practice.  

From then on, everything started to seem delightful. I was so cheerful that I cannot describe that feeling in words. At practice, I was smiling most of the time. Later Susu asked me what happened and I told him about the date. I love how these people get happy over my happiness. They have nothing to gain from this, despite that they are celebrating. No matter what goes wrong in my life, there’s only one thing I will always be grateful for and that is my friends. 

So, tomorrow came, and my morning started with going to work at paudha. Paudha had taken us to an apartment in Vasant Vihar. Vasant Vihar is a very posh locality where all the rich kids live and of course, I dream to buy a house there. Paudha took us there for some gardening work as the owner of that apartment wanted to grow some vegetables over her terrace. She also wanted some new plants and her terrace to be cleaned. Paudha gave us this job and we (Nikhil and I) got Rs. 500 each. I hated working there because you have to do all that cleaning and stuff around the street as well and people would look at you, I feel so small around them and at the same time I’d think Helen is also looking at me after all, she comes from such locality as well. However, I was enjoying it that day despite I knew I will be late for my date but I cheered because I knew as this gets over I will see a glimpse of heaven; I will see her and that is the best of all things. 

So the work at Vasant Vihar was done early n the morning and we were at Paudha then her message came and the first thing that crossed my mind was, please don’t make her cancel the date god, please! The message said: I’M GOING TO FUCK SOMETHING UP. A screenshot was attached and it has a message from her dad on the family group saying “you are not going out today kashu and no behas on this”.  My beautiful morning had turned into mourning, at that point, I was convinced I am not going to see her and as I did not want to have any more expectations I simply created a scenario where there was no possibility of meeting her and me. Another message arrived after a few moments: NO, I’M COMING. Then she called and I freaked out because I was working and I had not told her that I work somewhere but Nikhil helped me out, I went inside the godown (it is not actually a godown just some space where paudha keeps different kinds of pots). Over the call, she asked me if I can come to Noida as her parents are not letting her go. I was of course convinced. I would have agreed over anything because it is I who has dropped his practice, who has borrowed money from a friend, which shows how badly I want t see her. She also sounded sorry because everything was planned and Noida does not have anything as compatible with our date place in Delhi. Even Nikhil was so pissed; he was like this is not done, how can she change everything at the last moment. He wanted it to happen more than myself. 

Later, IDK how she convinced her parents or what she did but we were back to our plan A which is an art gallery (there was no plan B though she just made that ATM). I was still at Paudha when she briefed me. I checked the time and I had only an hour and a half to go home and get ready. Thanks to Nikhil, he asked me to leave immediately saying he will take of everything here you just focus on your date. So I ran toward my home, took a bath, and ate whatever there was without complaining. I looked at my watch and BOOM an hour passed. Now I only had 30 mins and yet I had to get flowers, chocolates, and some rings for myself. I was so late that I called Ashu and told him to be there at PVR and buy all this stuff for me so I could just take them from him and leave. Unfortunately. Ashu had no idea of what kind of flowers one should get for a date. I was literally running in the metro and as I reached PVR, I saw him and hugged him tightly. I asked if I am smelling bad cuz I was running all the way and I’d gotten a bit sweaty. He said, “Yeah, you stink a bit just a Lil bit”. I got really upset and it was him who cheered me up otherwise I would have killed myself. We bought flowers, I don’t remember the name, but they looked really pretty and fancy. I was also carrying a pack of ultra-mild cigarettes because I decided to flaunt my Dil Bechara personality to her.  

On her side, she had reached and texted me but I could not reply because I was running then she called and I told her I will be there in the max of 20 mins. She did not sound pissed or anything but nobody likes waiting so I ran faster. The BSF guard at the metro security check asked me if I’m going to give these flowers to somebody or if I have gotten these from someone. I told him these are for someone and he smiled at me. On the platform, a girl was making a video of me while I was waiting for my train carrying flowers in my hand along with chocolates and a book. So many amazing things were happening around me and I literally felt like the main character. You see, these are the consequences when a goddess starts liking you; when a goddess demands your presence the whole world pushes you toward her. Even in the metro, everybody kept looking at me and I was blushing beneath my mask. I reached the metro station where she had been waiting for me. She was at the food court, standing near a pillar. A saw her from a distance because of her hair, they are short and colored. As her eyes met mine, in that instant, everything got all blurred. Even now that I visit that place again I try so hard to recall near which pillar she stood but I just cannot; that is the thing about happiness right, you have no scars to remember it or to show someone. I laugh at this inability of mine where I try my best to replay each and every scene but all I see is just a glimpse of us. 

She had worn a dark brown jumpsuit and very cute flip-flops. Her outfit was subtle and those flip-flops made it vibrant to some extent. One would look at her with full admiration from head to toe but definitely hold their gaze over her feet. Her feet were immaculately beautiful. 

I went up to her and straight away she cheered up and threw her arms around me. As we hugged the first thing she asked was, “Why are you so sweaty?” She did not ask that in some bad way she was just curious.

“I got late because I brought you flowers”, I said that giving her the flowers. She accepted them with both of her hands then she literally blushed saying, “There was no need for this”. I did not say anything to that and gave her the chocolates and then the book. She got speechless for a moment and then said “C’mon Yushie, you did not have to do all this”.

“I actually got late because I was getting all this stuff for you, so I first went to Saket along with Ashu then I got back in the metro and came back here” I explained that is how I got all sweaty. 

She was really happy because of the flowers and I asked her “Is it that big of a deal?”

“Is it not? Nobody has ever brought me flowers” She said that with a straight face and I was like damn bro! Bringing her flowers was the best idea, hence,

 YOU: 1     other dude: 0

But I actually never brought flowers to impress her in the first place. I just wanted to give her flowers; she deserves flowers; she is a flower, of this painful world. 

We started moving towards the platform and I was so much into her that we unknowingly went to the wrong platform. 

We reached Saket 20 mins late but who cared about time? We had to go to Champa gali’s bari cafe and for that, we needed an auto. I thought I will have to call for auto because I am the guy and the last time when I went out Kayush, I had to do everything, But here she took the lead and dealt with the auto guy, she even negotiated and I was amused by her skills. 

Again I was back to that same lane I took a year ago to meet Cezzane but this time the memories did not hit hard maybe it was because I am with somebody better than her. We reached Champa Gali in like 15 mins and she looked for Baari cafe but there was a sign that says ‘we are temporarily closed. She sounded a bit upset because she had seen some reviews of that cafe and it was really pretty from the inside. Then she asked me, “where shall we go?”

“There are some other nice cafes too”, I gestured. We went ahead in Champa Gali and she asked me to go to the same cafe I had been with Cezzane and Kayush. I chuckled as she chose four directions. 

“What happened?” She asked with a completely baffled look. 

“Nothing”, I said trying not to smile. She was leading the way and as we were up to the door I realized I had to open the door for her so I rushed to move forward from her but she had already opened the door and I was like oh no! I told her I wanted to open the door for you then she looked down, smiled, and held the door gesturing ‘after you’. 

We sat on the couch, there was Jenga over the table and Menus. For the first few minutes, I could not believe that this is real; that this is actually happening and I wanted to tell her that but I had no words. I do not remember how we started the conversation, it just happened, maybe over the menu or something. Isn’t it amazing, how the thing that was terrifying me the most happened so nonchalantly, in a fleeting moment. And not just this one thing, all my fears like what to order or the bill thing. She took care of everything and especially of me. 

We spent 2 hours in the cafe, had lunch, and talked about so many things. She told me about her friends (which I wanted to know since the day I started following her on ig), about her parents and family. She did the talking mostly and I never felt I need to push this conversation, it just kept going and going. Also, there a moment came when was eating with a fork and knife and I don’t know how to use that. I was feeling a little embarrassed then all of a sudden I remembered how when I was with Cezzane, I was eating spaghetti and I did not know how to eat it properly and the table was a lil far from me to reach. I was so embarrassed that I did not eat it and I still regret it. So I decided I will not let that happen again and I don’t want this to be ruined. With all my innocence I asked her, “Could you please help me with this, I don’t know how to eat with a knife and fork”. 

She said sure and with that happy-to-help smile, she took the knife and showed me how we cut the food. Then with the help of the fork, she picked the food piece and fed me like you feed a lil child. Later she made a video of me where I was struggling to eat with a knife and fork and that was so cute. 

After having lunch we took an auto to the art gallery, in the auto we were clicking pictures and I thought I should now take out my cigarette. I did not know she is making a video when I did that and it got all recorded. She was amused seeing a cigarette between my lips. 

“You can light it if you want”, She said. 

Then I dropped that killer dialogue, “No, I do not smoke”, I took the cigarette in my hand, “See, you put the killing thing right between your teeth but you never give it the power to kill you. It is just a metaphor.” 

“It is childish”, she looked away. 

“C’mon I always wanted to do this”. 

So yeah, this stunt did not come out as I wanted it to be but to make it worse the auto driver offered me a matchstick and she laughed, a lot. I somehow managed not to have myself embarrassed more... by putting back the cigarette in the pack. 

“You did not like it?” I asked her. 

“It does not matter”, still not looking at me, “You can do anything you want”.

I leaned toward her, “anything?” I said looking straight into her eyes with deep passion. 

“Oh, c’mon Yushie”. 

At the mall, we spent a few minutes looking for the Kiran Nadar Art Gallery. I was carrying her bag and she, the flowers. The lady at the counter where we had to submit our bag and stuff asked me why are you carrying a women’s bag and Helen told her it is hers. She looked at us both and smiled. 

I love it when these things happen when people see something unusual so they ask you and when they get the reason behind it, they adore it. 

The art gallery was so peaceful. At first, we did not even see any people but there were many inside. She was looking at the piece of art and I was looking at her. We both were looking at what we find beautiful. The child in me who loves Helen was not able to understand the meaning behind the art so I had to keep asking her. She, in her impeccable manner, kept narrating to me the stories behind those arts. A moment came when we sat on the bench, looking at the wall and there was nobody else in the room. The distance between us was Lil to no. 

“What is this smell”, she asked out of nowhere. 

“What smell?” I was scared that I was stinking. 

“I don’t know”, she sniffed at my shoulder and I moved away a Lil. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Tell me if the smell is nice or not”. 

“It’s nice only. Which perfume do you use?”. Finally, I got some assurance.

I was wearing my brother’s perfume and that too was some cheap brand so I just said it is my brother’s I don’t know the name. 

We were so close that our forearms touched. She saw my veins and asked me to flex and as I did she touched them. She liked my forearms. The grabbed my hand, in a manner where the spaces of my fingers are filled with hers. I was completely shocked. I wanted everything to stop at that moment; just wanted to feel her palm on mine. One thing I knew for sure was that her hand would never harm me. I am safe here. 

We walked like that for a while, rubbing our thumbs. I kept looking at our hands, wishing by some miracle, we could never let it go. But I don’t remember when she let my hand go, maybe if I knew I would have held it tighter. When she was looking at the art, I wanted to look at her so I was walking backward, facing her. The wooden flooring made some noise when my feet struck the floor and she would look at me often.

After the art gallery, we went to the mall. I started feeling small there like I do not belong there but she sure does. So I got all quiet. She saw a store that has scented candles and stuff like that and said something about it. She realized I have not heard of it so she took me in there and like the salesperson shows stuff and explains, she showed me the products. 

While strolling in the mall for a while she wanted to go to Starbucks. I told her I have never been there and I know nothing of it she grabbed my hand and took me in there. Everything was so opulent there, all the pretty people working, talking, laughing; humans being humans. She got me her fav drink and asked me how is it. I nodded. 

“What happened to you?” She asked.

“Nothing, I just don’t like it when people are around”. A couple was sitting right next to us. They both were so pretty and talked in some accent I could never understand. Yes, even Helen started to speak in English and I was like... why!!??? 

“Well this is my kinda place”, She smiled. I just nodded returning a smile and thought no matter how hard I try I can never fit with her. I am just too damaged for her. Since day one I knew she’ll break my heart yet I just let her. 

The clock hit 4:30 and we knew it is time to go. We clicked some pictures, where ofc I feared not looking good but I got a decent one finally. Outside the mall, under the clear sky when sunrays fell on her she seemed a bit irritated so I wondered what is happening. She told me she is allergic to sun rays; she cannot look at the sun directly or else she’d start sneezing. And me, out of my complete innocence asked her how. She looked at the sun and sneezed. 

“OMG! You people have such cute allergies”, I was flattered just by her allergies. I mean in my life I have seen allergies to food, drinks, or some kind of smell but, this was so different. So from then on when we walked I tried to cover her face so she does not get under direct sun exposure. I leaned a bit forward or I would put my hand to cover her face. I wanted to protect her and keep her like a child trying to protect their favorite toy. 

In the metro, when it was time to say goodbye I could feel my heart skipping a  beat; it wants what it wants. I suck at goodbyes, but I am so glad I was with someone who makes goodbye so hard. I hated it when the metro reached the platform so quick. Generally, it takes 4-8 minutes but no, not today. We talked for a while about how amazing today was then she gave me the goodbye hug and this time it was a Lil tight which made me think does it mean something? I was too happy to be bothered by that and I watched her leave. She laughed when I asked can I come with you? but how do I tell her that It tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to her?

Love&Lights

Yushie

[waltenfiled]

title: my regards to a murderer

summary: “Had it?”

“No. It hadn't.”

“Compartmentalization works only so long.” Rossi said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was.

“Don't be like Uncle Sal.”

OR, IN WHICH; Rossi tries to talk to Spencer after two weeks had passed from Maeve’s death. Spencer ends up hating the conversation.

Love was another thing for Reid, another foreign yet familiar thing. 

He knew the definition of Love as much as any other person in the world; it's fluctuating, frustrating, and something he'd been craving for so long. ‘Maeve would have a better idea of what it is though, she always does’

Reid’s stomach had growled at him furiously as he continued to thumb at the miniature-map. “Victim five was found just east of Victim four,” he recited, his right hand expertly pinpointing the exact locations while he wrote on a separate parchment about the distance, “twelve miles from each other .. no car tracks, no footprints. Which makes sense due to the heavy rain that could have washed any traces of the unsub transporting his victims or any chase from them from the scene.”

He pursed his lips, “You'd think there would be a pattern there; he only attacks during days where it’s guaranteed it’ll rain but–.. no, Victim three was found at another town just far off from victim two and they were both targeted at the same date and had connections with one another. Victim two’s town wasn’t affected by the heavy showers, but the town that victim three was in was affected heavily.” though he noted the particularly blank spot of the map, devoid of any writing nor pins.

“Why didn’t he just dump their bodies in the same place?” he questioned skeptically. ‘Maybe this piece of information could contribute to the profile.’

“And the unsub skipped south entirely, but then again there’s a county there with satisfactory police presence, and a community search party, so I understand the want to avoid it, but–” 

Spencer halted up at the sound of footsteps. Gripping the marker on his left hand tighter with the knowledge of what was about to come.

“Heard from a flock of birds that you didn't leave the precinct at all.” The voice—Rossi, he quickly identified—spoke. Alongside the sound of crinkling plastic. “I brought a snack just in case the chirps were true.”

He continued to look down at the map in front of him. “Is this about the case or is it about something else?” he accused. “If it isn’t, then please leave me alone.” Spencer requested, because truthfully, he didn’t really have the energy to talk about anything else other than the case.

Too many empty nights, too many nightmares, too much cold water splashed on his face had resulted in his sleep being reduced to none. 

Which meant he didn’t have the energy for anything, really, not even to take care of himself. 

Not after Maeve.

To be truthful, he hadn't been able to do anything ever since Maeve had died. Ever since she was shot in front of him, before she was able to kiss him, after she had told him that she loved him more than anybody.

Spencer had never really understood love, but it had felt like he had when he was being loved by Maeve.

None of that mattered anymore, though. She was dead. She was in the past and he was in the future that she couldn't witness anymore.

And he was in a precinct somewhere in Kentucky, overworking himself.

Spencer sighed, “Victim three and two knew each other from university, both coming here for vacation. They weren’t found for two months, even with two police precincts from separate jurisdictions looking for them separately. Their corpses were revealed after a landslide.”

Rossi slowly walked in, cautiously, oh so cautiously, he had looked at him like he would have broken any second. “Did Garcia fact check that they were really going to vacation here?”

Spencer was numbed to that look. It had destroyed him when it was first directed at him; Hotch, as he gripped and pulled him away from the corpse of his lover, whispering to him that he was safe. He was okay now, though, the looks never really disappeared.

Spencer hummed, “even checked their credit cards. They booked a plane ticket to Kentucky just like Louis's father said they did.”

“Louis?”

“Victim number two's name.”

“Ah, alright.”

Spencer sighed, “Louis was just 23.”

Silence enveloped them easily.

It had become second nature for him to go quiet, and the team had adjusted to that quickly. Him contributing during conferences were a thing of the past, now, and he only spoke when he had to, or in Rossi's case, when he needed to. Because Rossi never shuts up.

“Good morning to you too, Reid.” He greeted as he eyed at him, grabbing a chair and gripping at it to pull it back from the table. 

Reid looked up with a small smile, a polite thing that nonverbally said ‘Hi,’ with his lips pressed together. 

Just because he wasn’t feeling it didn't mean he’ll start treating his family badly. “Good morning.” he greeted back, before he looked back down at his work.

He heard the dull thump of the previously mentioned snack beside him, somewhere near his right arm but he didn't care at all to retrieve it. Only continued to inspect his entire life.

The geographic profile, in less dramatic terms. It was fitting though, his work had completely taken over his personal life and he hadn't cared to stop it.

He had nothing.

“Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Sal?” he suddenly said as he sat down, placing both of his hands in front of him on the table. Both of the hands’ fingers entangled with each other as he stared up at Spencer with a sigh.

Spencer looked down at Rossi's hands blankly, and shook his head. He traced with his eyes where the left started and where the right ended. Deciding on abandoning his work for a moment – it was rare that Rossi opens up. 

‘He’s going to talk about himself. That’s good, he’s not going to talk to you about Maeve and convince you that she was an unsub. Keep him talking, you can continue working later.’

“He liked to,” Rossi paused, and Spencer couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he was forcing himself to be as he looked down. “fix up old cars.”

‘Cars?’ He echoed impressed in his head, pursing his lips as a sliver of excitement thumbed at him. He thinks that he might like where this conversation is going, He has a PhD in Engineering, he likes cars too.

“When my Aunt Rosie died, He bought a 1947 Buick,” he emphasized with a cartoonish nod, causing a small amused smile to graze Spencer’s lips, but it disappeared as fast as it appeared. 

“Well, It was a piece of junk really,” he cocked his head to the side, a smile on his face, then he looks back sunkenly.

“but he was obsessed with it.” he said as he leaned a bit closer, his voice quieting just a bit. ”He'd work on it day and night, forgetting to eat, until it was a thing of beauty.” he waved his hands around slowly, opening his hands in a push motion.

Spencer smirked slightly, a polite and proud gesture, before it quickly disappeared. It never really reached his eyes. “Good for your uncle Sal.” he muttered, looking down almost bashfully. “If I had the money to, I would renovate a 1947 Buick too.”

Rossi smiled at that, “Then one day, It got stolen.” he continued the story, looking down to hide his facial expression. The movement was in vain, though. Spencer was a profiler. He could sense grief from a mile away.

He looks back up, his face dropping before he recovers, a barely smiling smile present on his face.”When the cops found it, it had been completely vandalized.” Rossi continued to retell the story with a smile, and in contrast, Spencer's face started drooping, a well-hidden look before he blinked and looked down at the table, pressing his lips tightly against one another.

he gulped and looked back up. 

“Was he devastated?”

I would. He kept to himself.

Rossi looks down to his right for a moment, before looking back at Spencer in a flash “Never recovered.” Rossi's lips pursed, but in an almost bittersweet kind of way. He looked down slowly, a sad melancholy, and he took a deep breath.

“He ... died about a year later.” he said slowly, looking at Reid. 

Whose lips were pressed against each other in thought. And Spencer tried not to falter as Rossi prepared himself to be consulted. He looks like him, almost. Receiving comfort that he didn’t really need.

But hell be damned, Spencer will never leave anybody uncomforted ever again. Not after Penelope had grieved, thumbing at his cheeks as she cried rivers onto his hospital scrubs, comforting him during that quiet night. Having had heard the words that were the truest leave his lips;

He had said, “I don't understand why you’re all so insistent on Maeve being our perpetrator. She's everything to me, and I don't appreciate you all trying to strip me of the one person that made me feel whole again after years of being so alone.”

“Spencer, she raped you.” she had replied, in which he shook and retaliated, 

“She made love with me.”

She cried once more after that.

Spencer turned his head downcasted with a sigh, eyes fluttering, and his eyebrows raisied for a moment as he collected himself. 

Then he said; “I'm sorry about your uncle.” five simple words yet his voice held a sad break, having not expected Rossi’s story to have ended that way. 

But it didn't take a moment for him to connect the dots, and when he does, he straightens his posture.

From the sudden entrance, to the story … Rossi looked up knowingly, watching him as he prepared himself to be talked about Maeve’s death, in return, his face deceivingly relaxed, mouth slightly open with unspoken words.

“I'm sorry about Maeve.”

Spencer looked down as Rossi gave his best reassuring look, albeit mixed with his profiler gaze, it was redundant. 

He was being profiled, he knew. Which was nothing new at this point. Blake, Derek, Hell even Penelope. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, before they opened once again. Eyes determined for something .

Maybe to finally admit it.

Admit what, he didn't know.

“3 months and 15 days.” he muttered defeated, surprising himself when he looked back up at Rossi, his voice wobbly with unshed tears, but he still refused to make eye contact, prompting to stare at Rossi's hands instead.

Rossi nodded his head knowingly, “That's why you're not sleeping.” he continued to stare at him, analyzing him. 

He hates that. He hates being analyzed.

Rossj raised an eyebrow and squinted. “This can't go on.” he had said, with an almost crushing finality.

“I realize that,” Spencer cleared his throat, “the socially acceptable amount of time to wallow in grief” he blinked up to look at Rossi, dead in the eyes this time. “is coming to an end.” he finished, looking back down as Rossi says, 

"That's not what I meant."

Spencer shook his head, looking down and swallowing. His chin almost touched his chest before he looked back up, face devoid of emotions, but there's a tired sunken look, that just screams 'I'm tired. I'm grieving. I'm lost.' one that profilers usually wore.

Being a profiler was soul sucking. It truly was. Spencer had fallen for it.

“You wallow as long as you need but talk to someone.” and despite having had nodding along, Rossi leaned in. 

Squinting, as if he knew that the he wasn't taking it to heart.

Spencer licked his lips anxiously, and looked anywhere else but at Rossi. “I feel like …” he gulped, “there are two types of people in this world, Rossi.” 

his voice cracked as he said his friend's name, the same friend that had seen the ends of earth.

Had been a friend of his previous mentor, and friends with the person that shot his lover.

His life. His entire existence.

But surprisingly, he finds that he held no mirth towards the man in front of him. “The one that get over their grief and move on” he said with a bit of bite, but it had not been a hostile bite, more as if he was forcing himself to say it, admit it, finally dig into himself, forcing himself to keep on speaking. 

To keep talking; to keep living.

He looked back up at Rossi and closed his eyes, “And the ones that descend” he shrugs at his wording, “into some sort of endless misery.” a hollow, confused, tired and lost expression on his face was not foreign anymore.

It was at home and the team hadn't liked that, but Spencer had embraced it the moment it came. Claiming permanent residency with his home; he will never truly recover from Maeve.

He doesn't want to, either.

He was fine with sporting the face of a man that had seen the very thing that broke and shattered his life. The look of a man that had nothing left to live for, but still lived.

He was okay with that.

Maeve had died in front of him.

“I know how you feel.” Rossi said with emotion that almost felt foreign to the man, eyes glistening with tears that he refused to shed.

He hated how his first thought was ‘no you don't.’ because he remembers how he couldn't recover from the death of his wife. Because he knew that Rossi did know how he felt.

Because he knew he was being selfish.

Rossi looked up at him, inching closer now, voice more hushed, eyebrows raised affectionately with a small hint of a smile on his face. 

He shook his head. “Give it time.”

Spencer chuckled weakly, his shoulders shaking, “How much time?”

Rossi pondered that.

“I… thought by—” he paused, breathing heavily, his hands mindlessly fidgeting with the pen he'd been holding since the start. “coming to work every day .. and .. helping other people, the pain would lessen, but it hasn't.” he looked back up at Rossi.

“Had it?”

“No. It hadn't.”

“Compartmentalization works only so long.” Rossi said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was.

“Don't be like Uncle Sal.”

There was a silence, as Rossi continued to stare at Reid; who swallowed and looked down at his hands, fidgeting aimlessly in his spot.

“You know that I remember every single word we ever said to each other?” he sighed brokenly, shakily in fact, as tears started to gather again.

A couple slipped out, but he willed the other tears to hold themselves still.

“Finally,” Rossi exclaimed quietly, raising his hands, “the downside to an eidetic memory.” he leaned back on his chair as he said this, straightening his posture. There's a small smile on his face as he looks at Reid knowingly.

Knowingly. Rossi always knows … Spencer just looked up, before looking back down again. He'd been envious of his ability to be so carefree, and to just know with no repercussions.

Spencer was selfish. He really was.

Rossi deflated from having not gotten a reaction before he sighed and quietly advised, “Listen…” he leaned closer to sliding his hands on the table smoothly. He blinks at Spencer, initiating eye contact again as he says comfortingly, 

“Spencer... If you want to feel better,”

Rossi quirked his head as Spencer looked up at him desperately, lips pressed together as he stared at Rossi with sunken eyes, he must look like he's close to crying. He sighs, “You can't control the process. You have to let yourself grieve.”

Spencer licked his lips and laid his head downcasted. “I'm not sleeping because—” he cut himself off, swallowing and pressing his lips thin. 

“When I do I dream about Maeve.” he confessed tiredly, throatily, an almost empty dissertation and a detached expression settling refuge on him.

“When I see her,” he smiled quietly, “I feel the sweetest relief imaginable.” he said, his smile widening before it disappeared faster than it appeared. 

“She always asks me to dance but,” a smile crawls onto his face again, though he pauses talking and takes a quick breath. 

“But,” he shrugs, “I can't” he emphasizes, a hint of frustration and his voice almost pitches up, then his voice quiets weakly, “because .. I don't know how to dance and ..”

“... because I never even got to touch her when she was alive.” he said brokenly, voice cracking just a bit. He looked at Rossi for a quick second before he licked his lips and broke eye contact, he sighs knowingly to himself, almost self-deprecating.

“I know if I give into that fantasy I'll be lost forever, so …” he had breathily spoke, pausing for the better of himself, then his voice had gotten watery and wobbly, emotional. “I force myself to wake up.” he sunk against his chair, trying to hide from Rossi's sympathetic regards.

He sniffed and asked plainly “is that a part of normal healing?” 

Rossi exhaled from his nose, a defeated look on his face.

‘ I guess not. ’ he bitterly thought to himself. ‘because of course it isn't.’

“Spencer. I'm going to say something you won't like.” Rossi told, giving him the leeway to end the conversation, or to prepare himself.

He closed his eyes and sighed, bringing his legs close to his chest and circled his arms around himself. Curling up into an upward fetal position like he always did when he needed comfort but was too afraid to ask for.

“Dreaming about your abuser like that is unhealthy, but I can't blame you because she slithered into your heart and made you believe that you love her, because you were vulnerable. You hadn't felt so loved before her, and that's our fault for leaving you so alone when you spend the most of your time around us.” Rossi spoke, raising a finger to silence him as he moved to speak, to speak against his claims, to retaliate about something.

Rossi shook his head. “You let her sleep with you because you've been deprived of love. You let her into your apartment after she told you her stalker was watching over you two. You let her see your most bare state because you didn't know at what point you should stop revealing who you are. You had only known her for, what, 7 months?”

“... A year and half of January.”

“A year and half of January, yet you were already ready to marry her because you're young, and you're in love, and you're an agent in the federal bureau of investigation, being deployed into the field where you'll die any day. You were so desperate, so in love, so dazed from your need, your secret correspondences, to sharing hushed secrets you would never dare tell anybody else, to realize she was taking advantage of you.”

Spencer shook in his seat, “Stop—”

“Spencer, she was taking advantage of you. She's an unsub. You have to see that she was using you for her plan.”

“But what if she wasn't?” he spoke, “what if our love was real and she didn't need me for her plan? What if she fell in love with me by chance, with nothing to tie me with her ability to go against the law?”

“So you'll excuse her crimes? Would you do that to your father if you grew up loving him? Even though he raped you, beat you bloody, killed innocent children in your basement?”

Spencer stood up with a jolt, his right knee had hit the table but he found that he didn't really care. “Get out!”

“Spencer—” Rossi, that bastard, started.

“Get out if you're not gonna help me out with the geographical profile Rossi.” he muttered, his hand had moved to rest against the idle gun in the holster. 

“Or so god help me.” He said, with a crushing finality to the man he had considered to be a friend. To a man he spent his love to, even if just for a few moments.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he loved too easily because he was vulnerable and didn't know when to stop.

After all, Spencer was never really told the true definition of love. Not even his own mother.