#and he's also petty as HELL so he will not want to admit defeat pretty much... ever ☠️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hockeywhy · 3 years ago

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4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.”

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation.

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you.

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals.

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately.

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.”

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively.

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!”

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red.

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day.

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you.

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him.

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.”

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?”

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?”

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.”

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.”

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again.

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers.

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice.

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?”

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better.

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly.

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.”

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.”

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.”

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?”

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?” you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end.

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.”

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.”

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears.

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival.

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?”

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.”

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position.

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it.

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep.

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly.

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?”

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.”

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?”

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat.

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around.

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—”

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face.

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.”

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face.

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to.

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled.

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!”

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up.

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked.

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you.

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different: mostly, it was really just Matthew.

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due.

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.”

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues.

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine.

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh.

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?”

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?”

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.”

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.”

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.”

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.”

“Oh we’re just—”

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?”

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?”

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.”

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song.

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot.

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music.

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.”

“Baby, it’s torture.”

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster.

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?”

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.”

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.”

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?”

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that.

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.”

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.”

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?”

“Is it my jersey?”

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?”

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.”

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.”

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.”

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?”

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.”

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing.

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy.

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem.

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully.

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened.

“Here for vacation?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful.

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen.

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you.

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.”

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand.

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store.

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead.

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.”

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.”

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking.

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues.

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for.

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return.

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music.

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration.

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.”

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment.

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away.

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.”

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace.

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse.

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?”

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?”

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.”

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.”

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.”

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.”

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.”

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.”

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?”

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.”

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.”

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though.

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand.

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details.

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji.

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing?

You [emoji: middle finger]

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :)

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame.

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone.

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?”

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.”

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.”

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?”

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.”

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter.

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game.

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level.

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”.

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them.

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game.

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that.

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience.

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy.

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.”

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.”

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face.

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—”

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena.

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.”

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.”

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.”

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over.

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago.

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.”

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door.

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke.

“Who was?”

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.”

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine.

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly.

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.”

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.”

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you.

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable.

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party.

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.”

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?”

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation.

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush.

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?”

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.”

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle.

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.”

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters.

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly.

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.”

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.”

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence.

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes.

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.”

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away.

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away.

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said.

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter.

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you.

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind.

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork.

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall.

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.”

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.”

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?”

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.”

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup.

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing.

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room.

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned.

“Sure thing, definitely need it.”

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself.

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on.

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.”

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.”

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings.

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.”

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs.

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.”

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?”

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.”

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.”

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door.

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally.

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?”

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.”

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.”

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?”

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you.

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash.

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?”

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.”

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead.

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?”

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you.

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under.

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.”

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you.

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.”

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.”

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this.

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.”

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?”

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.”

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him.

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there.

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?”

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third.

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.”

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.”

“That’s��really not what I said.”

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.”

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #*

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

Nightwing 79 Review

i said i would and i will. i did like this issue! not as striking and attention grabbing as 78, but i think this issue was meant to be a foundation one, laying out the groundwork for the future. overall, pretty good. also there wasn't enough bitewing. as promised, overly extensive metaphors and me reading too much into things under the cut

i know i've talked about this cover before, but this particular thing is oddly important to me, so i'll talk about it again

this is me, once again screaming about how artists put nightwing in traditionally feminine poses and how every time i see it i just get whiplash. i mean, true, the main reason why is because nightwing is a so often sexualized character, and putting him in these poses just increases the objectification, which is a goal that dc producers have. but there are very few popular male characters that do this. the only one i can think of off the top of my head is deadpool, but that was so obviously a critique and a way to make fun of the media industry. when they draw dick like this, they’re being serious. they’re putting him in appealing poses meant to show him off, and that’s something that’s traditionally only been done to women.

it's a very direct and very loud breaking of traditional gender roles in media, especially for a character as high-profile and historic as dick grayson. colour also plays a factor in this. the entire background is pink. i was absolutely shocked when i first saw it, when the teaser came out, because i cannot think of any comic book covers of male comic heroes this high-profile where pink is even just prevalent in the cover, let alone the majority of the cover. the pink does look beautiful: it offsets and highlights the black and blue of dick's suit gorgeously, but does it with more finesse than orange or red. but the fact that the stylistic choice was made to accent and draw this cover with aesthetic and beauty in mind, completely ignoring traditional hard-set gender rules in art, was a conscious choice and one i wholeheartedly support.

just another example of the sexualization i was talking about. i remember seeing harley quinn in this exact pose in suicide squad.

so far, taylor's been pretty dead-set on bringing alfred to the forefront of importance in this series. he wants people to know how much he loves alfred's character, and how much the butler meant to dick growing up. he was dick's father too. but what i adore is how taylor managed to stress alfred's importance in a way that didn't insult or belittle bruce.

this is one of the best bruce and dick interactions i've seen, and it's done in one simple interaction. in this, bruce is tough and harsh. he knocked dick down hard, but then he reached a hand down and helped pull dick back up. let me analyze their dialogue for a minute

on your feet: this is bruce telling dick to get up. he's trained dick, he knows what the younger boy is capable of, he knows his limits, and he knows what dick can do. this is bruce telling dick i know you're strong enough to get up, so get up and prove me right

are you just going to knock me down again?: surface-level, it looks like dick's complaining. he doesn't like bruce's rough training, and he's tired of bruce knocking him down. but look at his face in this. he's smiling up at bruce, knowledgeable and a little hopeful. he knows that bruce is doing this to help dick better himself, he's completely on board with the rough training, because they both know the rewards are incredible. also, he's teasing. he's bantering with bruce. there's an ease in that joking statement, one that belies affection and intimacy. they've only known each other for a little bit, but they're already slipping into a close familial relationship.

it depends on how fast you learn: this is bruce bantering back. this is bruce not being a stoic, unfeeling asshole. instead, he's shown with the dry humor that a good batman writer knows is a staple of the character. he's teasing dick, telling him he'll basically whoop his ass if dick doesn't learn fast enough. it's incentive for dick to train harder, while also being lighthearted enough to tell dick that believes in dick and doesn't want him to push himself too hard.

gosh i love the titans. also it looks like wally's staring at dick's ass.

this was cute. a prod at dick's silly and playful sense of humor, while not dumbing him down for the sake of a laugh. instead, he's joking about food, which is stuff everyone jokes about. this is the kind of stuff that'll actually make me laugh, instead of just making me vaguely uncomfortable.

bludhaven's almost always portrayed as a cesspool of a city. and to be honest, it really is. but this panel gives the city a meaningful history, while also giving us a reason for why dick moved there.

it talks of a time when people still thought they could beat the monsters. that if they fought hard enough, they could win the fight. it was a tentative hope that you could always overcome hardship.

dick's little "i like that it's still standing" shows how he still believes that, despite what the rest of the world thinks. despite everything that he's been through, dick is still tentatively an optimist, and believes he can fight the monsters of the world and win. it's a beautiful testament to his character, and i'm like that they added his signature element of hope back in. it used to be what he symbolized as robin, and despite his growth and character arc from robin to nightwing, this is one aspect of robin that i'm glad nightwing still has.

remember when i said "things that make me vaguely uncomfortable??" yeahhhh,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Shooketh Dick: A Sequel

(the expressions in this series are just,,,,on point)

this was an incredibly sweet and kindhearted thing for dick to do, but i found it kind of,,,,,,,,desperate? maybe that's just me, but let me explain.

dick's suddenly a billionaire, and he has entirely too much money that he knows what to do with. it's also alfred's money, what the man left to him, so dick forever links it with alfred. in addition to that, he's back and bludhaven and looking at it with "fresh" eyes. (at least, from a different point of view since he got shot in the head. then mind controlled.) he's desperate to do something with the money and he's desperate to help the people around him that so obviously needs up, so he comes up with an on-the-fly solution that's a little impractical and a little crazy, but it still helps and still does some good.

to me, dick seems a little lost. he hasn't completely found his balance yet, and he's trying to do things that will. he tries charity, because that's what bruce did and it's what he knows, even though he admitted that he always thought bruce could have done more as bruce wayne than batman.

they have a family group chat guys yall were right.

also, do i think that dick would ever actually get his wallet stolen?? no way in hell, he’d notice someone getting ready to pickpocket him a mile away. but i suppose it’s important to the Plot.

okay this is getting interesting. first blockbuster, now maroni (+ the weird heart stealer guy). i can officially say that i am intruiged

this particular artistic quirk is shown a lot in this issue, and from this art team in general, but i feel like this panel is one of the best examples of it. it was stunning enough to take up a full page, and it’s well deserved.

the way they show dick moving is absolutely brilliant. as a reader, i like seeing these smaller versions of dick getting clearer and in more detail as they come closer to the screen. not only do they show depth in the picture beyond what a simple 3 dimensional piece of art does, it also shows the passage of time.

in addition, it showcases dick’s skill. dick spots these mobsters running after a group of petty thieves. he then, and follow me here, leaps off the roof of one building feet first, springboards backwards off the side of the adjacent building with his feet, gracefully continues his backflip, rights himself, shoots a line with perfect timing: just in time to soften his landing but not slow him down, execute said landing on top of a moving bus, keep running on the moving bus without missing a beat, shoot his grapple, use the grapple to swing, use the swing to build up momentum, then use the momentum to deliver a powerful blow to the mobsters. and he did all that fast enough to catch up with the mobsters, even though he was a ROOFTOP OVER.

d a m n s o n

this panel, the very first in the issue, is also another example of that art style, but a little more distinctive. i love the way they showed dick’s different costumes through the ages, along with him simply growing up. it’s a little heartbreaking, but a lot uplifting to see how far he’s come. thank god he got rid of the red. now all we need is the fingerstripes, and we’ll be golden

discowing my beloved. also i can’t clearly see discowing’s hair but it definitely looks like it’s pulled back. it looks like he put it in a ponytail. guys. guys. dick had a ponytail omg.

he’s having a Hero Moment

are you talking about the city, dick, or are you talking about you? the kgbeast, the court, the joker. dick fell to each one of them, no matter how hard he fought. he won in the end, eventually and with his family’s help. but i think he’s feeling a little low, a little defeated right now. it’s almost like he needs a win, he needs to feel victorious, he needs to feel like he helped someone (hence the food and the hotel room), just because he needs to remember what it feels like.

these lines were supposed to resonate with you, and goddamn they did.

i looked at it from two ways. first, it’s the girl asking, begging nightwing not to hurt them. bludhaven doesn’t know dick the way gotham does, they’re still a little frightened of him. this child was brave enough to step in front of all of the other hurt and homeless kids and ask, to a strange man in a mask, if he was going to hurt them like the other men had. it’s heartbreaking, but commendable, and an echo of the city itself that dick’s decided to protect. they’re bloody and broken and terrified, but still gritty and brave enough to stare what they fear in the eye and ask it not to hurt them.

second, it’s dick seeing the question reflected in himself. recently, he got shot in the head and lost all his memories. while i think that the way ric reacted was a perfectly valid and human response to the situation, i think dick still regrets how callously and rudely he treated his family. then, he was manipulated by the court of owls, then he was brainwashed with a magic crystal by the joker. dick does have a guilt complex. it’s not a big as bruce’s, but it’s there. and right now, with this girl begging her not to hurt them, dick is probably thinking about all the times he hurt people, in control of his own actions or not, bc he “didn’t have a heart.”

little ambitious don’t you think, dick?

also just look at the sunset colours loOK at the they could not make this any more obvious oh my godddddddddddddddddddddddd

in conclusion, i need more of her

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing 79 #nightwing 79 spoilers #dc #dick grayson meta #nightwing meta #nightwing 79 meta #dc meta #river thinks too hard

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kanri-tea · 3 years ago

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TDD Time Travel

The TDD time travel back in time, but they're from 10 years in the future where the Chuuoku is defeated and they've all made up and get along now. Ichiro, Samatoki, Ramuda, and Jakurai are very confused, but hey, they're in the past, so why not do a bit... tweaking. Cue the chaos because the TDD are beyond giving a shit about anything anymore.

(I wrote this a while back and forgot about it. I thought it was funny, so here we are. It's just pure crack.)

Y'know that feeling when you know something's off, but you can't tell something's off, but it just bothers you in the back of your mind, constantly reminding you that something is wrong?

Yeah, well that's how Ramuda felt for all of ten minutes after waking up in an apartment that felt mildly different from the one that he fell asleep in before, but the old man could be petty sometimes, so who knows.

And then he looked in to the mirror and screamed. His reflection screamed alongside him, showing a much, much younger and very different face from the one he saw in the mirror the night before.

What the hell, he thought faintly, and right on cue, his phone (in a case he hadn't had in a long, loooong time) began to vibrate.

Ichiro's morning routine was pretty simple: wake up, brush his teeth, eat breakfast while checking his phone for any messages from his brothers or Rei, and then get ready for work.

Sure, it was kind of lonely sometimes, with Jiro choosing to move away several years back for a job opportunity and Saburo living away in dorms, but hey, at least Rei dropped by every once in a while and Samatoki, Ramuda, and Jakurai were still in Tokyo. Ichiro got his socialization whenever he could, but man, he really empathized with Kannonzaka now. Office jobs were exhausting.

So of course, when he is rudely woken up by the familiar, yet not-quite-so-familiar sounds of Jiro and Saburo's pre-puberty voices arguing, it takes Ichiro a moment to remember if he'd taken any drugs the night before.

As he watches the two from the staircase, he dazedly pinches himself, and yeah, that definitely hurt. So not a dream. As the reality of this strange situations finally starts to hit Ichiro (and an panic attack too, because what the frick is going on???), his phone begins to ring,

Jakurai was well-aware that he wasn't the most attentive person in the morning. Ramuda had more than enough pictures and videos of Jakurai's pre-caffeinated self to prove that.

… Well, Jakurai thinks to himself, this is new. It's embarrassing to admit it, but Jakurai hadn't noticed the switch at first. Maybe his first sign should've been the lack of a hangover or the quietness of his apartment. He'd gone through several hours of paperwork without noticing anything right up until Shishikai started yipping and growling like a particularly annoying puppy that Jakurai realized that, wait a minute, Shishikai got his license revoked nearly 8 years ago.

He spends a good couple of minutes zoned out while Shishikai rants about one thing or another before mumbling out some excuse and starts heading back to his office. If what he thinks has happened is true, then well, Ichiro, Samatoki, and Ramuda may have very well traveled back as well.

As his phone rings, Jakurai sighs again. Maybe Ramuda was right, he really was getting too old for this shit. Maybe he really should've drunk that 6th cup of coffee this morning. (If Jakurai ever saw the Rei he knew in the near future, he was going to kick that man's ass, nearly 60 or not. Hitoya did always say that their bad ideas almost always came from their drinking sessions.)

Samatoki takes one look at Jyuto's significantly younger face and slam's the door in the man's face. Nope. Hell no, whatever was going on, it was way too early to deal with any of this shit.

Even after forcibly being dragged into Jyuto's car via handcuffs, Samatoki stews in his thoughts. Whatever shitty dream this is, Samatoki wants to wake up now. Really, this time of his life may have been one of the highest of highs, but it was also one of the lowest of lows. Samatoki would really prefer to dream of other things.

It's not until he gets a hit of Rio's cooking that he finally comes to term with the fact that somehow, he's in the past. Man, no matter how many years it's been, Rio's cooking is always terrifying, Samatoki grimaces. Jyuto is silently dying besides him, as per usual.

As Samatoki contemplates if he's actually in hell or if Rio's cooking has finally caused him to hallucinate, his phone (which somehow miraculously still has signal for once) begins to ring.

The TDD start a group chat to complain about how stupid the past was.

Jakurai is a little bit less iffy about using his assassin skills in his old age and uses them to deal with some nuisances (Honobono, who? Lmao like fuck was Jakurai going to let anyone hurt his precious people ever again)

Ramuda starts a clone revolution and ropes Amayado in to helping. Well, more like gets Jakurai to get Amayado to help because they were sorta-friends in the future

Ichiro sort-of tries to get along with Rei, but it's a work in progress. He knows that Saburo got along pretty well with the man in the future, but man, Rei sure was a deadbeat dad (Ichiro spends a good while contemplating if he could wring out some child support money from the man)

Samatoki spends time chilling. He can't really rescue Nemu from the clutches of the Chuuoku without possibly hurting her because of the incomplete "perfect microphone"

The changes to their personalities, while miniscule, is more than enough to send their teammates reeling and confused

"You know, I spent like, a good five seconds thinking about it, but no thanks!" Ramuda tells the Chuuoku when they order him to try to mind control Jakurai. "Y'all are kinda stupid though, trying to fuck over that old man, he's sooo vicious, y'know?"

"Sit your fucking ass down, you stupid clown," Samatoki tells Sasara the next time he sees him, "the shits I currently give are nonexistent and if you wanna fight, Ichiro said he'd fight you in my place. What a brat."

"I kinda hate you and you owe me like, 15 years worth of child support," Ichiro informs Rei, "but I'm pretty sure you'd get along with Saburo like a house on fire and that's the only reason I'm not going to stab you. (Don't set a house on fire like you guys did in the future. PLEASE)"

"Ah, yes. Of course I desire to work with you after you tell a clone of my former (and future current) partner to essentially kill himself and then proceed to threaten my son in all but blood," Jakurai deadpans, "I appreciate your interest in my abilities, but please do kindly fuck off."

#hypnosis mic #time travel #yamada ichiro #aohitsugi samatoki #amemura ramuda #jinguji jakurai #disjointed thoughts #pure crack

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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years ago

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Human Behavior - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter thirteen of “all bets are off”

feelings are so complicated i think we should just abolish them, everyone feels nothing forever.

warnings: semi-public stuff, teasing, angst, feelings feelings feelings, spencer is lowkey an asshole but it’s okay bc it’s hot

“Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, wear a skirt tomorrow.”

Those were Spencer’s final words to you that night as you walked him out of your apartment. At the time you had barely responded, still feeling quite upset about nothing, but when you awoke in the morning you felt a bit bad about kicking him out, so you opted to at least do something nice and follow his instructions.

You tugged at the skirt a bit as you walked into the lobby of your office building. “You listened.” Spencer grinned as he noticed you walking in, approaching you. You gave him a tired smile, wishing you had had a bit more time to prepare before being thrust right back into the fire that was your interactions with him.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t wanna deal with being reprimanded all day for not doing what you asked.” You replied a bit too snappily. Spencer looked at you quizzically.

"Are you okay?” He asked, seeming confused.

You nodded. “Totally fine, Spence. Tired, but fine.” You assured him. It was true. You were fine, your head just kind of… hurt? Like a bit of a physical headache, but also just mental exhaustion. Damn. You hadn’t taken into account the fact that rough sex for a week and a half could cause some fatigue. Oh well, you had dealt with worse in your life.

Spencer hesitated, analyzing you. “Are you sure?”

“100%.” You fiddled with the fabric of your shirt.

He frowned a bit, not quite believing you, but not wanting to push it. “Well, hey, I have something to give you!” He perked up a bit, and you found yourself perking up as well. A present? He ruffled through his bag. “Take the stairs with me?” You tilted your head curiously and nodded, treading behind Spencer as he walked into the stairwell. He pulled a little box out of his bag, and you watched, eyes locked on as he opened it to reveal a dainty little choker. You felt all sorts of emotions, the overwhelming one being confusion, seconded by some form of excitement.

“What’s that?” You asked, a stupid question considering it was obvious.

“A gift.” He grinned, picking it up out of its box and allowing you to take a better look. “I know you said something about one with a little bell, I was considering maybe taking it a step further and adding a tag with my contact information in case you get lost,” He teased, and you felt yourself turn pale. Oh yeah, you had teased him about a collar. But this? You should have been embarrassed, but it was kind of pretty. And it was a gift. From Spencer. Spencer had bought you a gift. You blushed. “But, I thought this would be a bit more suitable for day-to-day life. A bit more subtle.”

You nibbled your bottom lip a bit. “Ah, so this is the notorious collar I’ve been dreading?” You chuckled a bit. “It’s um, it’s kind of pretty. Definitely not as bad as it could have been.” You stuttered.

“Can I put it on you?” He asked, almost excitedly.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Am I allowed to say no?”

He laughed. “You are, of course, but if you do accept this gift, there are some rules that come with it.”

“Oh, hooray. More of your infamous rules!” You exclaimed sarcastically. “Can I ask what they are before I let you trap me in them?” You questioned.

“Of course,” he tucked your hair behind your ear gently. “You should keep the collar on at all times unless you get my permission to take it off. This doesn’t include when you shower, of course, but even when you’re at home alone or at work it should stay on.”

You considered this for a moment. “What about when I sleep?” You asked.

“I think it should be more than comfortable to sleep in, but if not we can talk about it.” He assured you, fingers running over the fabric of the choker.

You shrugged in defeat.“I guess the only way to know is to try it on, yeah?”

That was all it took for him to move towards you, clasping it around your neck. Your hand went up to touch the new jewelry. “Velvet,” you chuckled knowingly, fingers grazing the soft fabric. “Still your favorite, huh?”

His eyes were locked on your neck, “It looks good on you, what can I say?” His breathing became a bit heavier as he took in the sight.

It was almost weird seeing him so openly affected by you. You felt a surge of power. “Mm, I think this whole collar thing was more for you than me, huh?” You teased.

“I like seeing you wear a physical reminder of who owns you.” He admitted, running a hand through his hair.

You had one goal in mind as you watched him grow more flustered by the second. “Of course you do. You like the power you have over me, don’t you daddy?” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and you felt your knees weaken. “But we should get to work before we’re both late, don’t you think?” You walked past him, shoulder brushing his, as you began walking up the stairs. You didn’t make it far, though, before he grabbed your arm, stopping you in place.

“Where did this confidence come from all of a sudden?” He asked, voice low.

“I can enjoy my power over you just as much as you can enjoy your power over me.” You replied, attempting to gently tug your arm away.

You waited for another snarky comment, but instead were met with a tug. Spencer turned you around, lips slamming onto yours almost painfully, and his other hand moved to your jaw, forcing your lips apart further and granting his tongue access to your mouth. You kissed him back, of course, hands running through his hair. It didn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander, one finding t's way down in between your skirt, caressing the bare skin of your thighs. You whimpered into his mouth, flinching away, scared to make too much noise even in the stairwell. Spencer pulled his lips away from yours, using his knee to push your legs apart, widening your stance, hands wandering higher, rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

“You suck.” You breathed out.

He didn’t reply, only pushed his leg further between your legs. You felt your body began to grind against it automatically, craving the friction. You let out a huff of frustration and pleasure, angry at your body for giving in so easily. “What are you doing, Y/N?” Spencer asked.

You looked away, face red, and stopped. His hand moved back to your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. “Did I tell you to stop?” You shook your head, or at least tried to considering he was holding your face. “Then why did you?”

Why did you stop? Because you were embarrassed? Because you were going to be late for work? There were plenty of reasons.

"I dunno.” You settled on. That didn’t seem to be the correct answer though.

“I think you do know. I think you’re embarrassed.” He placed a hand on your hip, pushing and pulling your body against his. You didn’t reply, eyes pointed at the floor. “No? Am I wrong?”

You stopped fighting your desire a bit now, allowing yourself to grind down a bit more onto him. You held back your moans as best you could, biting down on your lip to suppress them.

“I guess if you’re not embarrassed,” Spencer leaned down a bit, leaving a single kiss on your neck. “You’d be fine begging me to let you finish right here on my thigh.”

You gulped. No. God no. You were embarrassed. You were totally definitely embarrassed. “N-No-“

But it was too late, he was holding your waist, keeping you perfectly still. You groaned at the lack of stimulation, pushing against his grip to no avail. “Beg.” He repeated.

“P-Please, daddy?” You mumbled, looking up at him with your best and most convincing face of desperation.

“Please what?” He replied, showing no signs of sympathy.

“Please let me, um...” You trailed off. Did he seriously need to hear you say it? “Um... you know.”

He laughed a bit. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, baby.” He cooed. Fucking hell could he get any more annoying?

You inhaled deeply. Fine. “C-Can I please ride your t-thigh?” You said quietly, staring at the ground.

“Of course you can.” He eased up his grip, allowing you to resume your previous movements, and you were grateful for it. He was kissed your neck, a hand firmly rooted in your hair, but it was short-lived. As you began to inch closer to release you felt him pull away a bit. Oh fuck no. He was not about to pull this again.

Except he was.

He moved his leg away from your body, leaving you without anything. “We’re late.” He said simply, glancing down at his watch, and you stared at him, anger and desire bubbling up inside of you.

“No. Spencer, no. Don’t do this, come on.” You whisper-yelled.

“Do what? You asked if you could ride my thigh, and you did, didn’t you?” You swore you could punch him right in his perfect face. You could shove him down the stairs, perhaps.

“Don’t argue semantics with me. You’re the absolute worst.” You seethed, pouting.

He paid you no mind, walking up the stairs. “We should hurry, we might miss the briefing, don’t you think?” You didn’t move, staring in disbelief, until it dawned on you that he genuinely had no intention of coming back. You groaned in frustration, walking up the stairs behind him in defeat.

You guys were, luckily, on time for the briefing, walking into the meeting room alongside the rest of your colleagues. Spencer took a seat next to you, and you scooted your chair away from his, crossing your arms. He glanced at you and raised a brow, amused. You glared. Who could blame you for feeling mildly angry at him and slightly petty? Especially after what he had just done. JJ began to explain a couple of new cases she was keeping her eye on, and you tried your best to pay attention to her rather than the man next to you who was clearly looking your way. He piped up eventually, citing some statistic that was relevant to the conversation, and used the opportunity to casually adjust his chair and the position he was sitting in, a hand nonchalantly brushing your leg. You knew it had to have been on purpose, right? No way this wasn’t one of his calculated moves. You pulled your leg away, crossing it over your other, and ignored him. The rest of the briefing really only consisted of you trying to control your thoughts, some of them horny and some of them about the violent things you wanted to do to Spencer for fucking you over like that. As soon as the meeting was done you made a beeline to the door, avoiding any chance of giving him time to talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out, catching up to you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing! I just noticed that necklace choker thing you’re wearing and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. Is it new?” She asked, examining it.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you chuckled. “It is new. You like it?” You smiled, trying to appreciate the comment without thinking about everything else associated with the new gift.

JJ nodded sweetly. “I do. It really suits you.”

“Where’d you get it? You have a special someone in your life?” Emily was approaching you now, teasing, and you scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “With this job? I barely have time for myself, let alone someone else. Plus, men aren’t worth the stress. I mean, there’s nothing they can do that a good ole’ piece of silicon can’t do better.” You joked.

Emily and JJ burst out with laughter, echoing sentiments of agreement.

“I don’t get it.” You whipped around at the sound of Spencer’s voice behind you. He was staring at you, feigning some sort of innocence, but you knew. You knew he was doing this to mess with you.

“Oh, don’t worry about it Spence.” JJ giggled. “It’s not something you need to get.”

He shrugged in response, locking eyes with you before walking away.

"Can you imagine him in the bedroom?” Emily lowered her voice to be quieter. “I mean, he’s a human super-computer.”

“Before you joined the team he made out with some girl in a pool while he was supposed to be acting as her bodyguard. You’d be surprised.” JJ gossiped back, nudging you. “Remember that?”

You hadn’t actually remembered that event until now. It wasn’t really relevant to you, so you didn’t particularly keep it in mind. You had only heard a few jokes and stories about it, anyway.

“I don’t know what’s more surprising, the kissing or the choosing him as a bodyguard.” Emily chuckled.

You were tuned out of the conversation. How long ago had that been? You couldn’t remember exactly. Was he still in contact with her? He had never mentioned her before, sure, but you guys never really talked about that type of stuff.

“She was some superstar actress too,” JJ elaborated. “Famous from being on some beach bikini babe TV show. Typical upcoming Hollywood starlet. I don’t know how he managed to do it.”

You frowned. Fuck. Yeah. That girl had been gorgeous. And famous. And now he was messing around with you? “Do you think they still talk?” You tried to ask as casually as you could.

JJ thought about it for a moment. “Well, I’ve never heard anything about it, but he’d have been stupid not to keep in touch. I know she gave him her number.”

“We should get Garcia to hack his phone records and check for any California area codes.” Emily laughed.

"Maybe we should.” You half-joked back absentmindedly. You weren’t even sure if you really wanted to know if he still talked to her. It probably would’ve been better if you hadn’t remembered their whole affair altogether.

The three of you went your separate ways, walking to your desks, and you just sat and thought. A hand played at the velvet on your neck, fingers tracing over it. This whole thing with Spencer had made you feel more confused than any case you had ever worked in your life. Your job was to understand human behavior, and yet you were at a loss. You couldn’t understand him, but even worse, you couldn’t understand a thing about your own thoughts and feelings. Why were you so attached to a dude you had fucked a few times? Was it all just that weird post-sex sadness Spencer told you about? Was this normal? Or were you going insane, maybe? You couldn’t tell. Or maybe you could. Maybe you had just been suppressing the answer to all your questions, shrouded in denial. Maybe you weren't bad at understanding your own behavior, maybe you were just bad at accepting it. You needed coffee, you decided, so you got up, walking past Spencer’s desk, avoiding looking at him at all costs. He watched as you walked by and you almost laughed. He was a genius, but he was so unaware. You couldn’t blame him, you had been unaware of it too for a long time. But it seemed, despite your greatest efforts, it seemed you had fucked up. You thought your biggest mistake had been hooking up with him, but your mistakes had gone far beyond that. Oh, no. You had a much larger issue at hand. You had caught feelings for Spencer Reid.

taglist <33

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid @slutforthegubes @cluelessnitwhit @downondilaudid @screeching-student-unknown @gretaamyk @thegingerfairchild @criminal-minds-reider @spencerrreid-cm @collegestudentvevo @pastathighs @midnightsubmissives @spencer-reid-enthusiast @emilyxprentiss @drreidshands

#all bets are off #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler x reader

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a-crimson-lion · 4 years ago

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Ultimatum: The Art of Lying In A Made Bed

(Or Why My Experience With Chapter 285 Is Contrary To Everyone Else's)

[Manga Spoilers Ahead. Also Opinions. Feel Free To Ignore.]

After Chapter 284, many fans were wondering how the story of BNHA would follow up on Katsuki's development. Now that Chapter 285 is officially out, fans are clamoring about Katsuki's latest acts of heroism, about how his arc is finally kicking it into high gear.

I'd be inclined to agree, but… you know how these things go.

[Heads up fans/stans, if you like Katsuki you might wanna bail. The word vomit that follows is pretty much incoherent and reflects my disaster of a thought process.]

I was looking forward to Chapter 285. I had my reservations on the execution of Chapter 284, but if the next chapter could follow it up and then some, I'd be pleasantly surprised. But then the leaks came out. And then the fan translation. And as of today, the official VIZ translation.

While everyone else is cheering for explosion boy, I'm just… done.

285 didn't get me to see how far Bakugo's journey has come. 285 didn't get me to finally root for him. And maybe I am making this decision prematurely, maybe I am missing something, but…

...the way things are going in the story I just- I just CAN'T root for him.

And I'm not saying the rest of you can't, if you're still reading. Katsuki is definitely a different person compared to Chapter 1, a better person, and he's definitely been heading on the up and up! If you can and want to support him, then by all means, go for it, don't let me stop you! It's just…

For me, chapter 284 was a wavering torch: a flicker of hope that sometimes dwindled, but was still there. Chapter 285 was the moment where I wanted to jump on the Katsuki Development Train, to finally gain some semblance of respect for him. But when I jumped, I landed on the tracks, and had to crawl back onto the platform.

I missed my chance to jump on that train. Whether it's because of previous circumstances or recent circumstances, I'll never know…

You probably wanna ask me at this point, "But Crimson, why DIDN'T Chapter 285 make you see the awe inspiring pinnacle of character development that is Katsuki Bakugo???"

To put it simply: it's a culmination thing.

For starters, there's a sort of… whiplash with Katsuki's development in the last few chapters. People like me will complain that Katsuki's development is too slow, in the case of the last 2-3 chapters, it feels like a switch was flipped, and now it's become too fast. Perhaps it's a me thing, but let me try to explain…

Shoto starts out as a standard background character. By the time he gets his spotlight in the Sports Festival, he comes off as reserved and antagonistic. After the whole "it's your power" moment, Shoto is finally able to accept the side he always hated. Then Katsuki fights Shoto, and we're shown he still needs time to grow; his left side comes with a lot of baggage he can't just brush off in the span of a single sparring match.

Fastforward to Hosu. Shoto's starting to take other people into better account. He's starting to learn to better control his fire. He's reconnected with his mother. His goal is no longer one-upping his old man; he has goals, people, that he wants to protect. He's coming into his own and wants others to do the same, like Tenya.

He joins the Katsuki Rescue Squad because, like Izuku, he had an opportunity to save Katsuki, didn't, and now he wants to make up for it. When we get to the Provisional License Exam, we're yet again slammed with the fact that his growth is still not done via Inasa, that there's still a bit of Endeavor he has to shake off, even if it was in the past. And he does progress towards that with the Remedial Course Arc. And while I have my opinions on the Endeavor Agency Arc, I'll admit that it was another development opportunity for Shoto and the Todoroki family. Shoto's growth comes with setbacks, but overall it's consistent.

Let's shift gears to Tenya, who's characterization I find fascinating. He starts out opposed to Izuku when they first meet at the Entrance Exam. He sees how Izuku is (for lack of a better phrase) "better qualified" at heroics thus far, reassesses his position, and apologizes whilst making amends. When Tenya resorts to LITERAL MURDER against Stain, the narrative does not let him go off without reprocussions. His arms are damaged, his supervisor's teaching license is revoked, and while he managed to avoid legal charges via police cover up, it still came close. Tenya listened to Stain's words, and opted to improve himself by that notion. He tries to set a better example, be a better class rep. It isn't a one and done.

Him lashing out during the Hideout Raid Arc is an offshoot of that. He doesn't deck Izuku just to be a dick; he's trying to knock some sense into him. They're so focused on Katsuki that they're forgetting about everyone else. Their friends, their teachers, their parents. If they f*** up like Tenya almost did at Hosu, they'll have hell to pay, and he doesn't want that. Of course, once they explain that combat/murder is not their M.O., Tenya tags along, if only to ensure the operation goes smoothly without this hitch. And again, Tenya keeps up. He looks after his classmates, looks after Izuku during the Shie Hassaikai arc. His growth is also consistent.

There are probably more characters I could elaborate on (Ochako, Momo, Eijiro, etc.), but I'll stop there. So, what's the deal with Katsuki's arc?

Well, it's… frustratingly back and forth.

It's one thing to have setbacks like Tenya and Shoto. It's something else entirely to have multiple setbacks and to keep trucking on with only abstract signs of development, but otherwise feeling like a very similar character compared to several chapters ago.

This is (in my opinion) Katsuki's problem. If we're going by what the manga stated, his arc technically started in Chapter 11: "Bakugo's Starting Line." But this is a rocky start. Izuku tells him about OFA right from the getgo out of guilt, but this neglects the fact that he's technically lying to everyone about it (including his new friends Ochako and Tenya), that OFA is a world-shattering secret, and that Katsuki is likely the worst person to tell this to considering that Izuku just handed Katsuki's ass to him and Katsuki was willing to use lethal force in their Trial. That aside, instead of say, sucking up his pride and opting to try and learn from everyone else, Katsuki doesn't really change strategies or approaches. He essentially does what he was planning to do since the start of UA; he's only crying because, SURPRISE, people are better than him. You'd think he'd expect that considering he called his middle school crappy…

After the USJ, once everyone had their "Lol Bakugo sux" moment on the bus ride, we get to the Sports Festival and everyone is clamoring to join Katsuki's team despite his apparent unapproachability. This feels less like something happened in the two weeks leading up to the Sports Festival, and more like history repeating itself from middle school. Moving on to the tournament, we don't even get to see how capable Katsuki is at serious combat. Two of his matches resort to Deus Ex Machina pulls, and the other two are in his corner by principle instead of difficult.

First off, Katsuki vs Ochako. I don't know why people praise this fight. For starters, it makes Katsuki HEAVILY OoC. Ochako is the only person he asks if she wants to back out before the match even starts. The ONLY person, which kinda undermines the whole "he didn't underestimate her" thing. Then he takes a reactionary stance the entire battle. Like, I thought we were still dealing with the "fist first" Katsuki. He does this to Eijiro, Fumikage, even Shoto, but Ochako? Stay still and then attack. Even if he did get his gravity removed, couldn't he just… propelly himself and let her have it. If he was proactive, he could have ended the fight quicker. Instead, he just plays sitting duck and headless chicken. If you're gonna have Katsuki win the fight, don't bulls*** it.

Which brings me to the final bit of that fight: the meteor shower. Having Katsuki blow that away after supposedly expending most of his energy earlier in the match just does NOT sit right. Ochako gets the upper hand, and then you just… negate that? You expect me to believe that Katsuki could generate an explosion at that magnitude, if nothing else? And what exactly does that do for him in the end? No one else tires him out for the remainder of the festival, which is pretty sketch.

(And yeah, I know I know "What part of her was frail?" but that's more of a retrospective thing than in the moment, coupled with the facf that it's never elaborated on again in any capacity, with Ochako or with someone else. It's a throwaway moment; a waste. Moving on…)

You really can't say much about the matchups with Eijiro and Fumikage. With Eijiro, it's an endurance match, and Katsuki apparently has infinite stamina and is on the attack. And he just… rushes him, which I'm pretty sure anyone else would do. Then with Fumikage, Dark Shadow is weak to light. Katsuki's explosions emit light on contact. Do the math.

And I am especially mad at Katsuki vs Shoto because one, he stays in place yet again at the start of the match, and two, he can apparently ignore his Quirk' weakness to low temperatures. In a gym uniform. Against a glacier the size of a building. Even with his power output, you don't see his explosions dampening in magnitude. It's obviously in his favor, which defeats any tension the fight could have had. It sucks, and in the long run, as a wise man once said, "Todoroki should have folded [his] ass."

Then we get to the Final Exams (ABOUT DAMN TIME) and… Katsuki hits Izuku for trying to cooperate, nearly gets knocked out once, and gets knocked out the second time around. He does not want to work with Izuku despite it being All Might, is petty enough to consider losing, and actively grumbles against working with Izuku. And all of his supposed self-preservation goes flying out the window when he's willing to try and beat All Might, leaving Izuku having to come and carry this boy out of the gate, which should not have let him pass.

Then there's the Training Camp attack. The second Izuku is mentioned, Katsuki decides to go AWOL, and while being kidnapped sucks, I am less sympathetic when you're boneheaded enough to help them capture you because you wanted to fight villains instead of getting to safety like the professionals recommended, all because of your one-sided hatefest with one of your classmates. Congrats, you played yourself.

Then we get to the Provisonal License Exam, which feels like a step in the right direction… until you realize this will boil over into Deku vs Kacchan 2, which will get both of them in trouble, which will give Katsuki insight into OFA while Izuku gets shunned by his classmates, and which will prevent Katsuki from the one ass beating that could have potentially taught him something. It's essentially the narrative covering his ass, and then he has the gall to be happy about other people potentially getting set back just because he was set back. Geez dude.

The Cultural Festival essentially undoes what the Remedial Course Arc accomplishes, having Katsuki look down on the rest of UA when he said NOT to look down on people earlier. And then his speech is still heavily antagonistic to the rest of the school, and to the idea of basic human decency and kindness in general. And if I'm being honest, that whole "he can play drums" feels like a big ass pull to keep him in the spotlight. At least the story brought back his ability to cook down the line.

The Joint Training Arc is just shoe horning in regards to Katsuki. It acts like his gearing up towards saving, but the circumstances are heavily, heavily in his favor, and not in a good way. I've already brought up how Katsuki won't get "saving" until the Endeavor Arc, and how here he's just doing it to show off, so I won't go into it here. Then apparently he gets to outwit a recommendation student 'cause why not? It makes him look more impressive than he actually is, even though he outright states he hasn't changed much if at all. Not to mention the narrative makes it sound like he was some sort of underdog, even though he only got kidnapped and didn't get his license. And I know those are big things, but not enough to warrant his victory feeling that triumphant. I'd probably buy it if he didn't win the Sports Festival or pass the Final Exam. Keep him in that slump for longer than you actually do, or it lessens the impact. And let's not forget, he might have been willing to help Izuku with Blackwhip via fisticuffs, but the second he realized he wasn't getting anything out of it, he noped out. And it's been what, almost 200 chapters since his "starting line?"

I don't have much to say during the Endeavor Arc (that was its own can of worms), but as for the War Arc thus far… here's what I mean by "whiplash." The arc begins in Chapter 253. By Chapter 257, Katsuki will demonstrate how much he just does not give a f*** about Izuku's mastery over OFA so long as it looks like he'll come out on top. By Chapter 274, when Izuku's gotta split, it'll look like Katsuki has been thinking about some stuff, but by 275 he's gonna throw that out the window so he can attempt to one up Tomura and Izuku, and then he'll nearly get killed for it. And we won't know what exactly Katsuki is thinking until a flashback in Chapter 284 (which chronologically takes place after 257), where he has a conversation with All Might about his past with Izuku. Or at least the bullet points. If you're me, the start of the conversation feels less about Izuku and more so about his situation: his situation with OFA. And as much as I want to believe there was at least one good kernel in Katsuki that he was too stubborn to let out with Izuku, I feel like Katsuki only brings up him and his capabilities now because he got a Quirk. That's what put him on Katsuki's radar. That's what forced Katsuki to take notice of Izuku, what caused him to be unable to ignore his own weakness. Because of a Quirk. That's… borderline shallow, if not remarkably so.

And even when Katsuki is attempting to save Izuku in 285, his first thoughts are still on OFA. And even if we go by the line of thought that Katsuki is thinking "Even if OFA sucks, it's still Izuku's Quirk." And that's nice and all, but the flashback makes it seem like the Quirk is still All Might's Quirk as well. That all of Izuku's worth is hinged on the fact that he got a Quirk now and therefore can't be written off. Maybe he doesn't owe this to his accomplishments, but the narrative is terrible in its implications that Izuku wouldn't have gotten as much attention without it. At the end of the day, Katsuki is still associating Izuku's worth with his Quirk. And as much as I want to vaguely, vainly hope that this will change later on, I'm already at my limit

...and now that I've said my piece on almost the entire narrative thus far, let's shift gears to a few more tidbits in 285.

Again, the flashback. I think it's significant that they're shifting the focus briefly on middle school again. But you wanna know what sent me the wrong way? They didn't include the god forsaken suicide instigation. They can show Katsuki gloating. They can show Izuku up against a wall. They can even show a notebook and Izuku's face during the Sludge Villain rematch. But they can't show Izuku reacting with sorrow mixed with almost fury. That can't show Katsuki threatening him with a mere "What?" and the sparks on his palms. They can't show Izuku standing and crying, small and defeated.

"BUT HORI SAID HE WENT TO FAR WITH THAT SCENE!1!" Blah blah blah, doesn't change the fact that it still happened. Doesn't change the fact that it should be addressed, at any capacity. Doesn't change the fact that the story had the balls to recall middle school but couldn't bring itself to remember the one thing that could get its audience raising eyebrows.

But that's alright, it gave you the notebook; clearly it's done enough.

And maybe in another timeline, I could have let my jaw drop when Katsuki was hit and the chapter title was revealed. "Katsuki Bakugo: Rising" It would have been pretty damn powerful too.

...but with all the previous crap the narrative has pulled, it feels like more shoehorning. It feels like more Erasehead stepping in and shaming the audience. It feels like more All Might letting Katsuki in because he's not completely familiar with the finer details. It feels like more people. In narrative parroting that Katsuki changed when he does the bare minimum, as a hero or as a person. I can't treat this development legitimately, because so many other "legitimate" developments pulled a "psyche!" and headed out.

So, I'm done. I'm done with Katsuki, done with hoping his development will be done in a somewhat satisfying manner. Done with people telling me "it's actually good though!" like I'm blind and deaf or something, when I have enough brain cells to formulate my own opinions, and we both have enough brain cells to leave each other alone if we don't agree. Maybe when the series ends and we can all look at this in hindsight, and Katsuki has either found a way to redeem himself, or remain deplorable, I might talk about it then. But for now. I'm drawing the line. I might talk about what we've gotten up to this point, but everything past 285 I'm taking with a grain of salt. 'Cause I'm sick of hoping for something that obviously won't come through, and it's better for me and everyone involved if I just pack up and move on. BNHA isn't just Katsuki's story after all.

And if you made it to the end of all this… I hope you'll either respect my opinion, or respect my thought process. That's all I can ask.

-Crimson Lion (27 September 2020)

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justatiredghost · 3 years ago

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Living for the Moment Ch19

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3

The problem with coming to a sudden stop after burning himself up the way Klaus had been lately was the loss of adrenaline. That had really been the only thing keeping him going. Well, that and the drugs. Thankfully he still had some of those in his system so the ghosts were leaving him alone, because the inevitable crash wiped him out completely. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore let alone enough to hunt down another contact to resupply.

There were a lot of things Dave had said that he wanted to comment on, mostly to ask what was wrong with him, but he just couldn’t right now. None of this felt real. He’d never had someone so determined to stay in his life, and all he could do was wonder how long until he came to his senses. But that was a problem for future him. As most things were. Right now, Klaus just wanted to sleep.

Not that he got much before they were both jolted awake by a car backfiring. The early commuters were likely out, so they had to leave, but Klaus felt so much worse than he had before. The exhaustion, the aches and pains, the ugly bruise welling up on the side of his face where he’d been punched, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he had a fever.

“Hey, you okay?” Dave asked when he noticed, and of course he had to be all sweet, rubbing his back and everything.

“Oh yeah, sure, all good here,” Klaus said, trying to suppress a violent shiver at the early morning wind icy cold now that Dave wasn’t pressed up against his side.

“Shit, I didn’t give you my cold, did I?”

“What can I say? Petty theft is one of my charms,” Klaus joked, because he didn’t like how worried he looked.

“I wish I could repay the favor and find a place for you to warm up and sleep it off, but— hang on, I have an idea. Come with me?”

Dave stood and offered his hand, and Klaus considered it. He thought about trying to ditch him again, or just refusing to move. But he was too tired to be stubborn and petty, so he decided it would be easier just to go along and he let himself get pulled to his feet.

Usually, Klaus would be more nosey about this, but when Dave left him outside the shitty motel, he just stood there and waited while he went inside to talk with someone. He surprised himself, honestly. He must be really bad off. At least Dave didn’t keep him waiting long.

“Wow, you really do look like shit,” Dave said when he returned, actually able to get a good look at him now that the early morning sun was starting to make its appearance.

“Still hot though, right?” Klaus said.

“Mmm, feverish and attractive,” Dave joked. “You might be overdoing it a little, might want to tone it down a bit.”

“Have you met me?” Klaus replied.

“Well,” Dave continued, unlocking one of the motel room doors on the first floor. “The good news is, a buddy here owes me a favor. She said we can have this room, but gotta be out of here by tomorrow evening.”

“She is a saint,” Klaus said, stumbling inside after him. “I am going to take a 6 hour long bath, so if you need to pee, you better do it now.”

“No, go ahead,” Dave laughed. “I’m actually going to step out for a bit. I have some other stuff I need to take care of. But I look forward to seeing what you look like all pruny.”

Klaus waved him off with an annoyed sound. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and was ready to soak up all that warmth and wash away the grime. By the time he finally climbed out of the bath, he didn’t feel so frozen. Sure, he still felt like shit, but it was better than nothing.

For once, Klaus slept like a rock, so he wasn’t all that surprised when he came to, desperate for a glass of water, to discover Dave was asleep in the other bed by the door. On the way back from the bathroom with a cup, he had the sudden impulse to crawl into Dave’s bed and join him, but tried to block that out and just go back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, it was to hear the shower running. Dave was no longer in the other bed. A midnight shower wasn’t all that strange, though, so he let himself fall back to sleep. But when he woke up again a little over an hour later and the shower was still going, Dave still missing, he started to get a little worried.

Well, more curious than worried. Yes, this definitely wasn’t worry. These types of places weren’t really known for having unlimited hot water and he actually wondered if Dave had been the one to ditch him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stumbled out of bed, pausing at the bathroom door to knock.

“Dave? You alive in there?” he called, but didn’t get a response. “I’m coming in. I swear I’m not doing this just to check you out naked.”

As he slowly opened the door, he noticed that there wasn’t as much steam as he thought there would be. The mirror wasn’t even fogged up. When he turned to the tub, the curtain was pulled back just enough that he could see Dave sitting there, letting the water fall over him, still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were raised as if to protect his head, fingers digging into his hair.

“Dave,” Klaus called again, concerned now.

Dave flinched as soon as he spotted him, but at least he relaxed when he realized it was just Klaus. Then, he scrambled to turn the water off before sitting back, out of breath and just trying to regain his bearings.

“Hi,” Dave said guiltily. Then, he looked down at himself and sighed heavily, picking at the way his shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. “Aw, man. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“Would it help if I also got in with my clothes on?” Klaus offered.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dave sighed, not completely able to stop himself from smiling despite everything.

“Your loss,” Klaus said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly one to judge, I was in here for a criminally long time earlier, but typically I don’t think showers are supposed to last very long. I’m surprised you haven’t run out of hot water.”

“Ah,” Dave said, looking away. “I think I may have, actually.”

“May have what?”

“Run out of hot water,” Dave said, and as if to prove his point, a particularly violent shiver ran through him.

“What the hell?” Klaus said. “You should probably get out of there. Only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time, and I already called dibs.”

He passed Dave a towel as he clambered out of the tub. Then, he left him so he could have a little privacy to change while Klaus wandered around the room in search of any extra blankets stashed away. Dave was already back in his bed when he returned, so he unceremoniously dropped his spoils on top of him before selecting one to unravel sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I swear I don’t take all my showers clothed,” Dave said, forcing a chuckle as he followed suit, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey, whatever does it for you,” Klaus shrugged, and Dave smacked him playfully with one of the folded blankets.

“I really am sorry about all this,” Dave groaned after they finished with their work, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets, still shivering.

“What, hogging all the blankets? I guess I can forgive you.”

“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that now, too,” Dave chuckled. “But I more meant, just, all of this-- my little breakdown. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but I still get flashbacks and nightmares sometimes. Showers help, they can kinda ground me I guess, this one was just particularly bad, I guess.”

“Oh,” Klaus said dumbly, not really sure what to do with all that openness. Except run, but he’d already tried that and failed.

This all hit a little too close to home; the nightmares and the flashbacks, the whispered confessions in a moment of vulnerability. In Klaus’ experience, it never went well. He knew Dave was just like this, so much more open than Klaus could ever imagine being, but it still sent a chill through him.

As irrational as it was, he didn’t want Dave to learn the same way he had. At least Klaus didn’t have any plans to betray him, so he might as well encourage him to let it all out now.

“Do you, like, what to talk about it or something?” he said uncertainly. “I heard it’s supposed to help. I mean, I know that’s rich, coming from me of all people.”

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” Dave said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Okay, well, now you have to tell me,” Klaus said, climbing onto the bed so he was laying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands.

“I, uh, went to talk to someone today,” Dave said slowly. “About getting support. For vets.”

“That’s good, right?” Klaus said, trying to be encouraging.

“I guess,” he said, eyes sliding to the side, avoiding Klaus’ gaze. “It’s just frustrating, it feels like admitting defeat. But I can’t even hold down a job, something’s gotta change.”

“That’s the spirit?” Klaus said uncertainly. It wasn’t like self-improvement was his specialty. But he could definitely understand the guilt that went with asking for help. Which is why he never did.

“Unfortunately, it’s bringing up a few too many memories. And, when I’m stressed, I have nightmares, so that doesn’t help,” Dave added lamely, trying to laugh a little.

“There, there,” Klaus said, sitting up so he could reach out and pat his shoulder. Taken by surprise, Dave burst out laughing and Klaus couldn’t help but grin, pleased he could still make him laugh, even when he was upset. “If it helps, wearing clothes in the shower is nowhere near the top 10 weirdest things I’ve found people doing in the bathroom,” Klaus said unhelpfully.

“Still,” Dave said, before changing the subject. “But enough about me, how are you feeling? Sorry again for giving you my cold.”

“I might learn to forgive you one day,” Klaus said dramatically, hand on his forehead.

“Hey,” Dave said. “I was thinking, and I realized that I just kinda made you come with me here, sorry about that, too.”

“Yes,” Klaus said, again playing it up. “How dare you force me to sleep in a proper bed for a change?”

“You know what I mean,” Dave said with a weak smile. But then his voice turned serious. “I know I was probably a bit too much before, probably creepy too, tracking you down like that. I just want you to know that, if you really don’t want to be here, I’d understand.”

“What’s the matter, starting to have second thoughts?” Klaus asked. “I am a handful. Being friends with me is gonna be a nightmare”

“Seriously,” Dave persisted. “How about we meet up in a few days and talk it out? I’ll have at least a few more answers once the VA get back to me. I know everything feels impossible right now, but being your friend is worth it, to me. But if all of this has put you off, then feel free to make a break for it. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sure,” Klaus said distractedly.

Dave nodded and turned away, pulling the blankets up nearly over his head.

Klaus had never been told he was worth it before. He’s never been worth anything and he didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He thought he could feel something melting in his core, a warmth reaching him that he never expected to feel. But there was guilt, too. So much guilt.

How was this even happening? Dave was a pretty smart guy, but he just seemed to be ignoring all the warning signs. Maybe Klaus had tricked him into this somehow. He was very good at manipulating people. But, for some reason, Dave kept coming back, there was no denying that. He wanted to trust him, to believe in Dave even if he couldn’t believe in himself, but he knew how dangerous that was.

Klaus felt cold, again, when he went back to his own bed, moving automatically. Mostly he just felt numb, completely drained. And he was more lost than ever. Maybe he was just too sober, maybe drugs would wipe it all away and remind him who he was. Or, maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d wake up one day and hate himself, wondering what would have been.

Hating himself wasn’t anything new, but when he glanced over his shoulder to see Dave’s curly hair sticking out between blanket and pillow, he so desperately wanted to give hope a try.

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #my fic

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raendown · 4 years ago

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Todays follower milestone gift fic is for @sparklemagpie with the prompt word importune. Can you tell I had fun writing this one?

Pairing: ShikamaruTemariTayuya Word count: 1966 Rated: T+ Summary: For the two women in his life Shikamaru will do whatever it takes. As long as they're happy he's happy. When they're not...well, when they're not you get situations like this one.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Just The Right Cherry On Top

Shikamaru would have told anyone who asked that it didn’t start off as begging. No one was really asking, though, and the shreds of pride still buried in the back of his mind somewhere told him that was a problem. If no one was asking questions that usually meant they thought they already had the answers. But they didn’t. They really didn’t. When it came to his two girls Shikamaru was smugly aware that he was usually the only one with answers.

Well, answers to questions like ‘are you sure they’re not trying to kill each other’ or usually ‘how can you stand to live between that’. The questions about what might be going on in either woman’s mind were ones he didn’t even try to guess at. He knew when to back away from a problem he would never figure out.

Right now he didn’t so much have a problem as he did have a disaster. He knew very well that relationships took work, that his work would be doubled when he agreed to marry both of the most important women in his life, and since he had not a day went by when he didn’t consider that work so very worth it. For the most part their days were happy. Blissful, even. Shikamaru was as flawed as any other human being but among his flaws pride wasn’t usually the one that tripped him up. Disaster only really happened when pride snuck up on the other two parts of his soul.

Tayuya, as usual, was the first to start throwing insults. And of course Temari, when faced with a hot temper, flared her own with the kind of heat usually accomplished only with the most deadly katon. Standing on the other side of the kitchen with a frying pan in one hand and his face in the other, Shikamaru briefly wondered if there were any missions available that would take him far away until these two crazy goddesses sorted their own shit out.

There weren’t. He checked. Discreetly, of course.

After the first couple days of cold silence it became obvious that this was one of those fights they needed him to bring them back from, when pride and stubbornness and sheer petty spite held both of their lips shut, eyes refusing to meet, tempers refusing to back down. These were the kind of fights that reminded Shikamaru why the three of them really worked as a full unit, one single whole, any weakness in one covered by another. Knowing that never made it any less annoying trying to be the cover to their weakness. They might need him but in those moments they sure didn’t want to need him.

“What’ll it take this time?” Shikamaru could hear the exhaustion in his own voice but that’s just what happened when he hadn’t gotten more than three consecutive hours of sleep for the past week.

“Nothing,” Temari snapped. “Maybe this is just it!”

Drawing a hand down his face spoke louder than words how little he believed that. If he looked really close he could see the lines of aching tiredness in Temari’s expression that told him she didn’t believe it either.

“Right,” he murmured. “I’ll just go talk to her then.

And so he did, though it would be hard to express just how unsurprised he was to get a very similar reaction from Tayuya.

“Fuck that bitch and her high horse!”

“You could if one of you would say sorry,” Shikamaru couldn’t help pointing out.

“Oh no fucking way! Not with a ten foot god damned pole!”

“What if I said please?”

So that was how it started. Or got to the middle, really. Much to the contrary of what other people seemed to think, Shikamaru was not so whipped as to just fall on his knees and beg any time he encountered the slightest of resistance in their relationship. He had some self respect. In the face of these two boneheads, however, self respect was a concept he was more than willing to throw out the window in favor of a full night’s rest, something he would not be getting until their home saw peace again.

One instance of saying please did nothing. Twice did little more than that. Somewhere around the fifteen ‘please’ he switched tactics and added a cherry on top. Tayuya rather harshly reminded him that she hated cherries and described in very colorful detail where he could stick his polite words. Clearly another tactic was needed.

As a smart man Shikamaru very carefully ignored all of Naruto’s well meaning suggestions like sending his wives flowers pretending they were from each other. Maybe that would have worked on someone like Hinata who was determined to look at the world and see the best in everyone but Shikamaru had married two people determined to look at the world through a cold lens of cynicism. Gods but he loved it. Loved the both of them. He just didn’t love the fights. Naruto meant well but the one and only time any of them had seen Hinata truly mad had been the middle of a battle against the reanimated body of a dead man handing Naruto his own ass. It was great for the two of them to finally find happiness. When he thought of their calm and sweet relationship Shikamaru sometimes just couldn’t help but wonder how they didn’t get bored with no one around to throw a plate or two.

Since being nice about it didn’t do much his next step was to try being firm. This time he went to Tayuya first because if he could crack her then honestly he was pretty sure he could crack the whole world. His efforts in this round were about as successful as the first.

“Go ahead and try to tell me what to do one more time, Nara.” Right up in his face Tayuya was all fire, in her hair and in her eyes and in every move of the arm currently jamming in to his chest. “I’ve had just about enough of being ordered around for one lifetime, you hear me?” Oh he did. He did hear her. He also heard the undertone of heat and it wasn’t until an hour after he left their home in the daze of post orgasmic bliss that he realized he’d been had. Maybe Choji was right and he did think with his dick a little too much.

Going to see Temari hadn’t exactly had better results - although he’d known better from the start than to consider either one of them ‘better’ than the other in certain departments. After making it very clear how much she both enjoyed and scorned his attempts to law down some kind of law Temari rode him against the nearest walls and sent him off afterwards with a few choice words about how she really didn’t mind wearing only his marks on her skin from now on. Since he hadn’t been the one to bring that up Shikamaru saw through it right away. They missed each other, a blind man could see that. Getting them to admit it was the hard part.

So that was a bust on trying to put his foot down but if he were honest Shikamaru hadn’t expected any different. The next thing he tried was bribery. After the harsh years both of his wives had experienced it was entirely understandable that they should enjoy being waited on hand and foot. Usually the offer was an irresistible one to them; hence why he didn’t make it very often, a special treat for special occasions when he needed to remind them just how precious they really were. When not just one but both of them turned him down this time Shikamaru had to take a nice long walk through the woods and feed the deer for a while, wondering if maybe the magic offer had lost its touch at last. Or if maybe he was the one that had lost his touch. It took a good long while and three different deer taking curious nibbles of his ponytail before he shook himself and stood up with a little more steel in his spine.

Clearly this problem was running out of control and that meant bringing in the biggest weapon he had at his disposal. One didn’t spend a lifetime best friends with the Yamanaka heir without picking up some tricks.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please please?”

“I said no, fuck off Shika.”

“Uhhh, please and please and please?”

Tayuya actually stopped walking to round on him with furrowed brows. “You get hit upside the head or something? This is- you’re acting like a damn child!”

“Maybe.” Shikamaru clasped his hands together and lifted his eyes to the clouds above them. “How many times I gotta say please? Cause I will. Give me a number, I’ll do it.”

“For real?”

“Please, please, please, please, plea-”

Ignoring the baffled looks of anyone passing them by was a lot easier than ignoring the sharp voice that spoke from the doorway, rough at the edges under the heavy weight of defeat and sadness.

“He might not look like it, but he’s really just a child in a man’s body.” Temari studiously did not look at her wife when Tayuya whipped around to stare at her, missing the ripple of yearning that went through all those well honed muscles. “You probably shouldn’t test it. He really will just keep going.”

“Sounds annoying as hell,” Tayuya ventured.

Neither of them seemed to notice when Shikamaru fell silent, still, waiting with baited breath.

“It’d probably be less painful if we just give in. He already did that to me for two hours this morning and I don’t know if I can listen to it for much longer without violence that I’m pretty sure I would regret.” The proud set of Temari’s jaw was that of a queen making concessions. The dark warmth of her eyes when they finally canted sideways was that of a wife who missed the touch of her beloved.

“Good fucking god, two hours? Yeah, hell no. I ain’t listening to that. Let’s just get this over with or something then.”

“For the best.”

Despite that agreement it still took about five solid minutes of staring wordlessly in to each others’ eyes before either of them made any more toward the other. In the end they moved at the same time, reaching out with the same hand, laughing in a fondly awkward way as their fingers entwined. The moment would have been utterly beautiful if Shikamaru hadn’t breathed in very deeply just to let it all back out in one great rush.

“Finally,” he muttered. Both of his wives frowned at him.

“Wait.” Temari narrowed her eyes as though only now realizing what she’d done. “How did you do that?” She didn’t seem to appreciate the sheer exasperation filling him up in place of all the soft pleading he’d been wearing for days now.

“You don’t just hang around with Ino for this long without learning how to annoy someone in to giving up.”

Before either of his wives could say anything Shikamaru was spinning on one heel and marching out the door, grumbling under his breath while he rummaged around his flack vest for a pack of smokes. Troublesome women and their troublesome tempers. At times he really did wonder why he put up with it. Two sets of footsteps rushing after him was a good reminder, though he thought he would be well within his rights to make them do a little begging after all the trouble he’d gone through just to bridge the gap between their overinflated prides. Worth it, absolutely worth it, but damn if they weren’t trouble sometimes.

#rae writes #follower milestone #shikatematayu #shikamaru #temari #tayuya

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v-hope · 5 years ago

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Absolute

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!AU, Fuck-buddies to Lovers, Fuckboy!Jeongguk, Tutor!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Request by @asiivnc: “Hi, can I request a one shot? Can you do it based on Ariana Grande’s song Boyfriend for Jungkook?”

Summary: After arguing over the status of your relationship and having a bit of a fall out, Jeongguk and you find out you don’t quite like the idea of each other being with someone else. Nevertheless, with the two of you not being precisely a couple, things might get a little too complicated.

A/N: I don’t know if my interpretation of the song is what you had in mind, but hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope the rest of you guys like it, too 💞

Jeongguk was fuming.

The second he had entered the coffee shop and his eyes landed on one of the tables by the windows, finding you comfortably talking to the smarter guy of your promotion, he felt like going up there, grab you by your wrist, and drag you out of there with him.

But he could not.

And his desires were not only prevented by the fact of him knowing you would not ever look his way again if he did such thing to you, but also by his mind suddenly remembering he had not gone over there alone — the sweet voice next to him asking if he was alright, managing to draw his glaring eyes from you to the girl he had arrived with.

However, that was as much attention as said girl got from him that evening, for no matter how hard Jeongguk tried, his eyes kept fixing on you every two seconds, since he had strategically chosen a seat facing your table — torturing himself with the way you would smile ever so brightly time after time to your classmate, just like it made his heart skip a beat every single time it was directed to him.

And although his heart felt uneasy and his knuckles turned white with every smile of yours, he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking; not when the guy you were with could make a move at any given time.

It was almost two minutes later, when who felt like his new rival did indeed lean over the table to take a better look at what you were pointing to on your notebook, that Jeongguk had enough. So, not really giving it a second thought, he excused himself from the girl in front and made his way over to you.

Your eyes focused on him before he could even clear his throat to catch your attention, and he hated the way your smile had disappeared in a heartbeat. It was fair to say, neither you nor your companion were very happy to see him standing there.

“Yes?” the cold tone of your voice was enough for him to feel like turning around and never look back.

Instead of acting on his instincts, he stared at the table for a second before he awkwardly pointed towards it. “Can I borrow a napkin?”

Your eyebrows raised in such manner he couldn’t tell if you were amused or annoyed; maybe a mixture of them both. “I think you’re supposed to ask the staff for that kind of stuff, but sure”.

Without another word, he nodded his head before he took one in his hands. However, before he could leave your side completely defeated, he stared down to the person he thought you were on a date with, and before he could even think about it, his mouth was opening, much to your annoyance, once again to say something else.

“Hi, I’m Jeongguk” he introduced himself to the guy sitting in front of you, who tried his best not to feel bummed by Guk’s presence.

“Jaehyuk” he greeted with a small bow, which ended up looking more like a nod that was immediately reciprocated by Jeongguk just the same.

Not like they didn’t already know each other and their intentions with you, but seeming intimidating right then was apparently a very necessary thing to do.

“So you need help with your classes as well?” he pushed it regardless of the glare you were giving him. He knew for a fact Jaehyuk did not need your help at all, and he was not having it. “She’s been tutoring me for a while now, too”.

“Not really tutoring me…” Jae decided to answer him — his eyes travelling from Guk to you, and giving you a small smile that made Jeongguk’s stomach turn. “It’s more like, we’re teaching each other”.

You were not the two top students for nothing anyway; and to say that bothered Jeongguk was an understatement, because knowing there was someone just as smart as you, someone who overall was a way better choice for you, wanting to win your heart as well, made him feel a subtle pain in his chest he could not explain.

Nevertheless, he was not about to portray that for you to notice. No. Instead, what he did was curve up the corners of his lips in a smile, and a pretty cocky one at that.

“Oh, yeah” he was full on smirking by now, resting his palms near the edge of the round table and leaning over to your side. “I’ve taught her one or two things as well, but we haven’t really needed books for that. Right, baby girl?”

You felt your heart jump at his words, immediately feeling the heat go up to your face as a nerve-racking silence took over the table, yet being fast enough to cover it up with a cold glare directed his way.

“Well, now that you’ve so unnecessarily established that” his smile only grew bigger at how beautifully mad you looked right then, “I think you should go back to your date, I’m sure she’d love for the Jeon Jeongguk to show her what you’ve done to half of campus by now”.

That alone was enough for his smile to be erased, and not exactly because he had been reminded of the girl he had so inconsiderately abandoned a few minutes ago or because of your harsh words by the end of your statement, but because you knew. You knew he had gone there with someone else although he could’ve sworn you hadn’t seen them sitting a few meters away from you. And, for some reason, seeing your eyes slightly soften, looking almost hurt as such words left your mouth, hurt him just as much as seeing you with someone else.

It was stupid, he thought while he walked back to his seat; you had fought almost a week ago precisely because you couldn’t come to terms about your relationship and its dynamics, and yet here you were a couple of days later, hurting at the sight of each other with different people.

You were more than acquaintances, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves friends. You were more than fuck-buddies, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves a couple. You did not sleep with other people but each other, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves exclusive.

You had crystal clear feelings for one another, yet you wouldn’t admit them.

It was stupid. Absolutely stupid.

And he was not the only one to believe so, for you were left not being able to focus on your studies anymore; instead drowning in your thoughts and the faint pressure you’d feel in your chest whenever you either thought about Jeongguk with someone who was not you, or your eyes were drawn towards the table he and the girl he had arrived with where sitting at.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so submerged in your own self-pity, you would’ve noticed he was not really paying attention to his date, but to his phone under the table — only noticing when your mobile buzzed with an incoming text, causing your heart to skip a beat at the sight of his name on your screen.

Guk-ah [20:07]: I’m taking you home

Giving Jaehyuk a quick glance and internally thanking the fact that he was too focused reading one of the papers to even notice you were doing something else, you rushed to unlock it so you could type an answer.

You [20:08]: Shouldn’t you be taking your girl home?

You knew you were sounding petty as hell, but, in all honesty, you couldn’t care any less by then.

After hitting send, your eyes moved up to see if he had received it, catching the exact moment he was already determinedly typing on his phone.

Guk-ah [20:08]: That’s what I’m doing Guk-ah [20:08]: Now come here, we need to talk

Simple as that, that’s how you ended up a little under ten minutes later inside Jeongguk’s car, not even feeling like complaining when you realised he had taken the long way home, the one he knew by heart now — instead absently staring out the window as the atmosphere was filled with nothing but silence.

“I can’t believe you left her all alone in there” you spoke after what felt like forever, not really feeling like making small talk yet not being able to take another single second of the overwhelming silence.

“She said it was okay” he replied plainly, not taking his eyes away from the road.

“It was not” you denied, sitting up straight so you could take a better look at him and his tensed factions. “She’s probably going to badmouth you with her friends later”.

“Then so be it” he snapped, fixing his piercing stare on you for a second before he focused it back on the rather dark streets. “I couldn’t stand another second of you with that guy on your stupid date”.

“We were studying, it was not a date”.

“Oh, so the guy who’s at the top of our class and who, may I add, has been after you for months now, suddenly needs help with his subjects?” a loud scoff abandoned his mouth, letting you know perfectly enough just how much he was not having it. “And then he takes you to a coffee shop to ‘study’ and you’re trying to tell me it was not a date?”

“Exactly”.

He scoffed once again, shaking his head in both disbelief and indignation at either how oblivious you were or just how you were so blatantly lying to his face.

Poking his tongue against his cheek without bothering to place his eyes on you, he carried on: “Did he pay for your coffee?”

Your eyes went once again to the window. “Yes…”

“A date” he stated simply, doing a pretty good job at hiding how much that fact was actually bothering him.

“Well, you’re one to speak” you were the one to scoff this time, shifting in your seat. “You’re the one who was on an actual date with someone else!”

Jeongguk sighed, turning left to the road that would lead to your place. “I’m telling you, it was not a date”.

“Did you pay for her coffee?” you bit back with his own previous words.

Hating the way his own logic had turned out to be against him, he annoyedly answered: “Yes”.

“A date then” you said rather bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like it matters though, since you’re not my boyfriend—”

Ouch.

“—and you can do whatever you want”.

“Can I now?” Jeongguk questioned, raising one of his eyebrows as he gave you a quick glance. “I’m guessing so can you then?” he pushed it, receiving nothing but silence from you. “Why don’t you just call what you had with Jaehyuk a date then if you can do whatever you want?”

For the same reason he wouldn’t call what he had as well a date either: because it felt wrong. Although you were technically not dating, there was this kind of both unspoken and unintended agreement not to be with other people. That’s why it had hurt the two of you so much to see one another with someone else. It almost felt like getting caught cheating whilst finding out you were being cheated on all together, for both of you.

With your mouth remaining shut for the rest of the ride, Jeongguk decided not to say anything else either, not even after he had parked the car in front of your building and the two of you got out of it; not even as you made your way inside and spent the single most tense thirty seconds on an elevator. In fact, he only ever opened his mouth with the intention of speaking up once he had followed you to your living room — even then not knowing what to say.

So, you did for him.

“You said we needed to talk” you pointed out what he had ever so determinedly told you over text, “so talk”.

Silence took over for another couple of seconds — Jeongguk having a hard time to find the right words to express what he truly wanted to.

Finally, letting out a shaky breath, he went for it: “I don’t want you to go out with other guys”.

You whined out of exasperation, throwing your head back out of instinct at how obstinate he was being.

“For the millionth time, we were just studying!”

“Well, we were just studying five months ago and you see what happened”.

It was your turn to go quiet; hesitating as to what to say next, given how taken aback his statement had left you right then.

“So what, you’re scared I’ll start fucking him just because the situation is slightly similar to ours?” the tone of your voice sounded almost mocking — your disbelief only growing stronger when he remained silent, breaking the eye contact as he looked to his feet instead, earning a scoff from you. “Seriously, Jeongguk?”

“You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility…”

Because, although it was not the same, to his eyes it was. And it was not like you hadn’t tutored more people during the amount of time the two of you had been together, but it was the first time he felt threatened by someone else. For you to have these little study sessions with someone smarter than him, who also happened to be attractive, felt like a timebomb awaiting to explode. He could already see it, how Jaehyuk would at some point want to move your studying somewhere more private, just like he had done months ago, and how then things would inevitably escalate from there… just like they had escalated with the two of you.

Only he could actually see you falling for said guy, as opposed to what he thought you would never feel for him.

That was the exact moment he let his walls down, along with the exact moment you realised just how hurt by the whole situation he actually was. And although a part of you wanted nothing but to go up to him and hug him tightly, the other part of you, the one that was still hurting because of him, was the one to carry on with the argument.

“You do realise how messed up it is for you not to want me to go out with other people when you yourself are doing just that?”

“She’s just a friend”.

You laughed under your breath at his statement, yet your face alone let him know you were not amused at all. “Friend, sure”.

“If I say she’s just a friend then she’s just a friend!” he snapped, exasperatedly motioning around with his hands to make his point.

“Okay” you nodded, slowly taking one step closer to him. “But what is your definition of ‘friend’, though?” your lips puckered up questioningly as your eyes looked up as well, “because, for all I know, she could be the same kind of ‘friend’ I am to you”.

“Okay, no” his eyebrows furrowed dramatically, “don’t even think about comparing the two of you, because we’re not just friends and you fucking know it”.

Hell, he didn’t know if you were friends to begin with. It had always been different with you. Always had felt like something more he could not quite put his finger on.

“Then what the fuck are we?!” you were the one to snap this time, throwing your hands as you took a step back. “I’m pretty sure fuck-buddies are supposed to have no strings attached, yet here we are freaking out over each other going out with other people”.

“So you did go out with him!”

“No! I—” you sighed, not understanding when had everything started to go downhill. “Look at us, Jeongguk” your voice turned weaker, just like your eyes became softer, “we weren’t supposed to start fighting over these things. This isn’t what I wanted when we started doing this”.

“I didn’t want this either but it happened” he pointed out the obvious, much to your frustration, “and now we have no choice but to deal with this”.

You shook your head no, taking one more step away from him. “We would never work out” you confessed your thoughts, glancing over the entrance of your own apartment yet what seemed to be the only escape right then. “Things weren’t supposed to get this complicated, I don’t want this”.

“No, don’t you dare walk out on me” Jeongguk called you out as soon as he saw you start walking to the door, catching up on your intentions faster than you had given him credit for.

Holding your wrist tightly, he turned you around so that you were back again at facing him, only this time he cornered you on the nearest wall — his intimidating figure hovering over yours.

“You’d really rather ignore your feelings than to give us a chance?”

“We would never work out” you repeated what you had already expressed before, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together in both frustration and disappointment... if not hurt.

“Why not?”

“Because you…” you took in a shaky breath, struggling to find the right words, “you don’t date…”

His lower lip stuck slightly out in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“You know what it means...”

One look into your eyes was all he needed to understand what you were talking about, and it would’ve been a lie to say it didn’t pain him. Especially since he couldn’t change the things he had been doing up until a few months ago, and he had no idea as to how make you believe he would be willing to change his previous ways for you.

“Is that how low you think of me?” he wondered, taking a step back yet not moving far enough from you to let you move somewhere else.

You shrugged, not daring to meet his eyes as you spoke. “I’m just saying… the guy who fucks around campus and doesn’t do commitment and the straight A’s girl who’s never fallen in love before… it’s like a bad cliché that’s bound to end up with my heart being broken”.

“What about me? Don’t I have a lot to lose, too?” he tilted his head questioningly. “I have never been in love either and, for all I know, you could always fall for some Mr. Right and leave me”.

You could, he was right. However, either fortunately or unfortunately, it was him the one you had caught strong feelings for, and somewhere within the deepest inside of you, you knew falling harder and harder was all you would do from then on.

So, you decided to let him know.

“The thing is, I don’t want some stupid Mr. Right” you confessed, placing your hands on his chest out of habit, “I want you”.

“And I want you” he replied in what felt like a heartbeat, resting his forehead on yours and gently holding your waist — his thumbs drawing small circles on your sides as his lips already were searching for yours, “no one else”.

The way he had every so lovingly whispered those words over your mouth sent shivers down your spine, forgetting your point for a moment there as his sweet lips caught your lower one in between them.

“Jeongguk, wait....” you managed to mumble in between tender kisses, having your voice come out muffled by the soft touch of his lips, “this doesn’t change the fact that I don’t—”

Your words were temporarily hushed by another kiss.

“—entirely trust us together”.

His breathing trembled as he inhaled, fully withdrawing his mouth from yours before his forehead once again rested against your own. He understood. In all honesty, a part of him still didn’t know if he could entirely trust himself either. But he wanted you, in a way he had not ever wanted anyone else, and that was enough for him to know he wanted to fight for you and what the two of you could have if you just acted on your feelings instead of keep ignoring them any longer.

“Let’s just… be exclusive for now then”.

Your eyes opened at that, finding his chocolate ones already staring back at you. “I don’t know about you” a small smile curved up your lips, “but I haven’t slept with anyone else for a while now”.

Jeongguk couldn’t help but smile brightly at your confession, feeling his heart flutter and an indescriptible feel of joy taking over his body.

“Neither have I” he admitted, causing you to tauntingly raise one of your eyebrows. Rolling his eyes, he cupped your face in his hands. “I haven’t. Can you trust me in this one?”

Staring into his genuine eyes, you could do no other but believe him; nodding your head lightly after a few seconds.

“This solves nothing then” your bummed statement got a frown out of him, at which you explained: “We were already kind of exclusive and we still ended up the way we did…”

“But it’s official now” he pointed out, absently tracing your lower lip with his thumbs. “And I don’t mean it just when it comes to sex, I, let’s… not be with anyone else at all. No dates, no kissing…”

“No studying sessions?” you teased before you could stop yourself.

Too soon.

“Y/N” he sighed, “I’m serious” his lower lip stuck out.

“I know, I’m sorry” you pouted as well, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling your muscles relax when his familiar hands were instinctively placed by your sides, like they had been moments ago. “It’s just… such level of exclusiveness can lead to one of us to confuse it for an actual relationship at some point...”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened...” he sheepishly admitted, making your heart jump when he added with the same shy tone: “Hopefully it won’t be just one of us”.

“And then what?” you questioned, gently playing with the dark strands of hair falling over his neck.

“Then we date” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world; and, to some extent, you knew it was. “As in, boyfriend and girlfriend, in health and sickness or however it goes, kind of serious”.

A bright smile took over your face as you chuckled at his way with words, having him mirror it in a second.

“Just to make sure then” you raised one of your eyebrows, “we won’t be doing anything coupley for now, right? It’s just a promise not to be with anyone else?”

“Oh, no” he denied immediately, “I’ll definitely be all over you and spoil you as much as I can”.

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that had just escaped your mouth, biting down on your lower lip to try and stop smiling so that you could properly speak again.

“We might as well start dating now then” you snorted with the intention of taunting him, yet only causing his heart to skip a beat instead, “since what you’re proposing is pretty much the same”.

“I mean” he dragged on the last letter; his nose faintly brushing over yours, “if you want to…”

You shook your head in amusement, not being able to erase your smile and stop another giggle from escaping your lips.

“Let’s just…” you begun as you tightened your hold around his neck, earning a chuckle from him at the feel of your chest pressing against his — loving to have you closer than he had expected to, “take things slow from here... you know, test the waters...”

He smiled sweetly, nodding his head and letting out an almost inaudible ‘okay’ before he closed the space between your mouths.

As one of his hands moved up to cup your cheek and allow him to intensify the kiss by pressing his lips deeper against yours, his other one was soon to follow just as your fingers begun to entangle themselves in his messy hair. It was that small act from yours he had always been driven crazy for, along with your mouth opening faintly to allow his tongue the entrance it had been asking for, what caused his free hand to stop from travelling up to your cheek and instead move down to the hem of your sweater, wasting no time in digging inside the fabric so he could tenderly caress your skin; almost immediately feeling your goosebumps under his fingertips.

“Does this mean no sex for a while now?” he panted, planting a chaste kiss to your mouth, “because this one week without having you has been killing me”.

You bit down on your lower lip and shook your head in amused disbelief, jokingly shoving him away from you, only for his hands to catch yours and pull you closer to him once again — warmingly wrapping you inside his arms.

“Ugh, you only want me for my body” you over dramatically breathed out, causing a light laugh to escape his throat, and then a moan to be muffled against your lips when you determinedly pulled him towards you to resume your needy make out session.

You knew now more than ever that it was not like that at all, because the line between fuck-buddies and an actual couple had been one hell of a thin one for the two of you for a while now, and even though there were quite a few things both of you needed to work out first in order to put a label to your relationship, there was one thing you were sure about: you didn’t need to name what you had for it to be genuine.

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monkeebratz · 5 years ago

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Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne - Summer Part 2

Okay guys, remember how I said the Miraculous Super Squad was going to show up in Gotham? Adrien, Kagami, and Chloe all buy the first ticket out of Paris for themselves and Luka and pack asap. Luka and Kagami are the only two suggesting maybe this isn’t a good idea? Yes, they want to see their illustrious leader too after such a nerve wracking experience but maybe they should get her okay first? Maybe? Guys? Oh, we’re already at the airport, guess we’re doing this.

Meanwhile, the Wayne’s are bonding. They’re like, sitting in the living room talking about their hobbies. Marinette is glad she has at least one thing in comment with each of them and is determined to bond! Y’know, now that its clear Damien had no idea what he was shoving his hand into while he was snooping around her room, and such. The Wayne’s are just under the impression that its a set of important heirlooms from her old ‘master’ that are pretty delicate.

Anyways. BONDING. Bonding and then everyone goes to ‘bed.’ Which is code for the batfam going out to patrol. And Marinette sneaking out after a few hours since she’s just. Restless. She’s used to paroling Paris almost every night and Gotham isn’t Paris but she just can’t sit here and do nothing! So she sneaks out and transforms into Multimouse in a random alleyway. She does some jumping around using her jump rope, running across rooftops, keeping an eye out for crime. She doesn’t plan on intervening with anything more than petty crime, she doesn’t know Gotham’s villains as well as she does Paris’ and she won’t endanger lives so recklessly. She does, however, not find any crime. Just the batfam. Specifically, Jason as Red Hood. There’s much panic bc Marinette has HEARD of his reputation. And the man has guns. Fuck. HER SUIT MAY B E MAGIC BUT THOSE ARE STILL BULLETS

Jason chases after her while Marinette splits up when its clear that the other Robin’s are also chasing her. Only for main!multimouse to get caught by batman and you just have a squirmy, palm sized Marinette in Batman’s hands. Everyone’s confused bc what kind of super power is this? Who even IS this? And why can’t they seem to pinpoint what she looks like? This is BULLSHIT

Bruce, on the other hand, is holding Multimouse very, very gently. Because she is clearly a child, still. Going on about how there’s no meta’s allowed in his city, and if she’s going to be here, she can’t cause trouble like this. The Batman and Robins are the hero’s of Gotham and he will not stand for untrained children testing boundaries in his city. The rest of the batfam ends up with this tiny mouse in their hands or running around their ankles and this is. Possibly the weirdest thing they’ve ever dealt with. Damn. Do they give her a thing of cheddar? What’s the protocol for this? They have lots of animal based villains but this is just blowing their minds.

Marinette panicking bc her time is running out and she’s going to transform and Batman and the Robin’s will see her, and she’s defeated Hawkmoth but what if they kick her out of the city! What will she tell Bruce!!! THEY DON’T KNOW THAT MULTIMOUES IS LADYBUG BUT WHAT IF THEY PUT IT TOGETHER? WHAT IF SHE HAS TO LEAVE? WHAT IF HER FAMILY BLAMES HER FOR GETTING THROWN OUT BY BATMAN!! BATMAN HIMSELF! WHAT IS SHE GOING TO DO

(there’s a lot of high pitched squeaking noises. The Robins refuse to admit that its adorable as hell)

Marinette tries to get away only to detransform right at the edge of a building. Damien catches her by the jacket and there’s a lot of yelling. Marinette’s kinda crying tho bc she’s been in the city only a week and she’s already blown her identity? Batman thinks she’s some kind of troublemaker? She’s only been a full fledged Guardian for a few months and she’s already messing up!

Damien doesn’t know what to do. Because his little sister is a fucking mouse theme’d hero with a damn magical girl transformation? And she’s going on about ‘miracles’ and ‘kwami’ and he doesn’t know what to do other than gently pat her. Console her with awkward pats while looking at his Father and Brothers like WHAT DO I DO?!

Batman reassuring her that they will have to tell Bruce Wayne about this, but that she isn’t in trouble. They were mostly concerned about meta villains in Gotham, but he’s sure than any child of Bruce Wayne’s isn’t going to go about causing unnecessary mischief.

The batfam escorts Marinette back to Wayne Manor and disappear, telling her they’re off to talk to the Wayne’s. And meanwhile Marinette is still panicking. Sends off a quite message to the Super Squad about what happened (who can’t respond bc they’re currently on an overnight flight to Gotham, what an unpleasant surprise this will be). Long explanation about how she’s going to tell them most everything since the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak, and they ARE her family. Bruce supports the Justice League, so it should be fine. Right? Right???

Meanwhile the Wayne’s are freaking out. There’s many jokes tho bc OF COURSE YOUR YOUNGEST, CAVITY INDUCING, BABY GIRL, IS A SUPERHERO. OF COURSE SHE IS. ITS GENETIC ISN’T IT. HOLY SHIT. AND SHE’S ADORABLE. A FUCKING MOUSE. DAMN. DID ANYBODY KNOW ABOUT THIS?

And then everybody’s going up to Marinette’s room and Alfred is screaming internally bc he was right? Tho he wish he wasn’t.

And Marinette’s full blown panic mode rambling, in French, so Damien, Bruce and Alfred are really the only one’s who know what she’s saying and trying to translate for Tim, Dick, and Jason. But gives them the whole talks about how Multimouse is a reserve hero for Paris, as she’s the Guardian of the Miraculous, and supports Paris’ hero’s, and she’s so sorry for not telling them, but Hawkmoth was only just defeated and Gotham was supposed to be an escape from her duty’s and she couldn’t tell them secrets like this, she’s so sorry!

Alfred wants to cry. Because he can’t believe his grand daughter is the Guardian. Sits down next to her and comforts her and reveals how he lost the Peacock Miraculous during the French Occupation and how he’s partially to blame for her troubles.

The Wayne’s are fucking thrown bc two of them are magic users? What? ALSO THERE WAS A VILLAIN IN PARIS? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL THEM? OR THE JUSTICE LEAGUE?

Marinette: We did! I contacted them multiple times, as myself, and as Multimouse. Nobody ever responded after the first message not to play such pranks...

Bruce: Oh really. -eye twitch- I think I need to have a conversation with them, then.

SO YEAH A ONE SIDED REVEAL ALSO BRUCE IS GONNA KICK THE COLLECTIVE JL’S ASS BC THAT’S? HIS? DAUGHTER? WTF GUYS

also cutting this off before the intro of Paris’ Super Squad bc this is getting... long

Tag List! And hey guys, if you want to be added, please send me an ask! (They’re a little easier to keep track of then comments for me)

@mystery-5-5 @mariae2900 @vgirl-10123 @iglowinggemma28

#miraculous ladybug #batman #maribat #biological father bruce wayne #miraculous ladybug au #batman au #marinette dupain cheng #multimouse marinette #bruce wayne #i'm getting tired of tagging but HERE HAVE THIS

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 5 years ago

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Her eyes, the stars - Bucky Barnes x Reader (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[I know, I am a ghost. Sorry guys. Enjoy.]

The reminiscence of a rose - the single flower that’s so impossible to hate, delicate and pretty, even when it stops blooming. Her voice could calm even the most chaotic oceans, always soothing with soft notes of comfort. Even her eyes could mesmerize the most soulless creature; her sweet face left him dreaming in heartache. On the nights his loneliness stung him harder than cheap liquor; he was always thinking of her. For he reveled in the memory of her heart placed on his hands. As he tried to get drunk on other people’s skin. Yet all that regret still burned his chest. And he realized that he once had the best. Since she loved his highs and lows. He thought about what he once held. He regretted leaving her. But she deserved more than his pettiness and demeanor.

She begged herself to stop loving him.She hated herself for all the mistakes she had made, all those wrong decisions - she blamed him for he made her vulnerable. He was the sun, never really committed to one planet, always dancing around the universe, with bright colors revealing themselves, leaving her in awe. Her heavy blues of night opened to reveal the chariot of the sun lighting up the sky with various shades of yellow and gold. The feeling was almost theatrical and the dramatic intensity was palpable. How could they end up in the same sky, when he was the sun and she was always so fond of the night? They were just celestial objects, trying to find the one perfectly still moment, so they could co-exist in harmony without worrying about nature's balance. That moment had passed them by, ignoring their desperate attempts to escape the chaotic force.She was a whole universe in motion - he had guessed that was why she seemed so tired lately...It must be an exhausting, yet beautiful thing to brush the orbits of all the universes she walked by. He had tried to stop thinking that he made her so unhappy. He couldn't. Instead, he tried to understand her a bit better than before, to get close to her, without hurting her. Again. She was no pawn in his game, she was clever and cunning - but just to hide her true self.

"You think you can define me, that I am a tick in just one box. Like my being is a door that a single key unlocks. But let me tell you something - something I figured out after you broke me. I have the universe inside, I hold an untamed ocean with a constantly changing tide. I'm home to endless mountains with tips that touch the sky, flocks of grand migrating birds and deserts harsh and dry. Please, don't tell me that you know me. That "this right here is what you are", trying to get an old and very dead version of me back. I am the universe in motion, for I was born from the stars" she was talking to him, trying to make a point, to seem sure about what she had become - but she was scared of her heart. Oh, the things it made her do. He wasn't taken aback, which surprised her. He was looking into her eyes, watching the soft colors of the sky fooling around with the dark strokes of her irises. It was true, her eyes held the stars. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the swirling feelings inside her. She felt every single cell of her body begging for her to forgive him - there was nothing to forgive, really, for he had done nothing wrong. It was her that could not - would not - handle things. She never saw herself in a relationship - so many obligations. She was not made for ballgowns and parties but for battlefields and saddles.

"I am yours, forever yours… and when the last star of the universe blinks silent, I will still be yours", his answer came naturally to him. It was the most sincere thing he had ever said. He knew her as a sea breeze, but now she met her as a hurricane. So he knew, she needed to be alone. She had been craving freedom so long and he had been blind. He was a liar- he lied to her, to the entire world, to his own self. He wasn't the Golden Boy, people made him to be. He had hurt her in ways he couldn't have imagined before. She softly smiled to his words, because she knew he was being honest. Once upon a time, everything was magical and they were found themselves walking through a chaotic paradise. The entire multi-universe had changed.

"I might have been too harsh, Stevie. Truth is that this, us, has turned to dust right after we were defeated. Five years now, we have been foolish enough to try and make things work. We have been lying to everyone, we want them to move on and be alright when I know that all those sleepless nights we have been thinking of a way to make everything as it was. I also know, and please do not try to deny it, that you are not mine. Not really, not entirely, not ever. For you, it's always gonna be Peggy. Accepting that, was the hardest thing I have ever done". His face twisted in a guilty way. Everything she had experienced for the first time, had been with him. It hurt her but she would move on, find someone else to make her feel alive again.

"I... I am sorry. I love you, you should know that. It's just. I can't shake the feeling… I am so sorry" he calmly apologized to her. He couldn't control his heart.

" And I love you. You can't unlove someone. You can, however, become just friends with them. I wouldn't want to lose you from my life. So... Hey dude" she tried to change the dark and painful situation into something less...

It all happened so quickly and slow at the same time. It was a disaster and a triumph. Everyone came back - well, not everyone. Once she laid eyes on Bucky, she ran like hell and almost knocked him down as she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. How she had missed him - her best friend, companion and well...it would take her a while to admit it but there were butterflies, even though she did push them away every time, convincing herself that it was nothing more.

"I missed you Jay, so damn much" was all that she managed to say before Steve called them to assemble.

They won. And they lost. All thanks to the amazing Tony Stark. After a horrific scene of Thanos wearing the gauntlet and snapping his fingers - only to realize that Tony had stolen them right on time - everyone's heart fell and crushed and burnt. Yes, Tony defeated Thanos but at what cost?

He had always been the only father figure she knew- if she thought that standing against him with the Sokovian Accords was devastating, this was torture.

When things slowed down, Steve looked at her for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. Her porcelain-like skin was bruised, stained and twisted forming a pained mask, her hands were trembling and she was leaning against his best friend- why was this the first time he was noticing the look on Bucky's face? Why was this the first time he felt that his friend craved to be more than a friend to her?

Life has a strange way of revealing her secrets, a dark sense of humor. It goes on, like a circular river, never-ending, never resting. After the simple ceremony to honor Tony's memory, she took a step back, asking for a few weeks off of the team to help Pepper and Morgan. All she wanted was to feel normal again. One more task before that though.

Seconds before Steve stepped into that platform to be teleported back in time, she called for him. He knew it and so did she. She had seen it in his eyes after they had mourn Natasha. In all honesty, she understood why - he deserved the life that was taken away from him, without asking him if he liked the alternative options. Bucky knew it. He knew it when he saw him on the blood-stained battlefield. He felt it in their hug. He also knew that she knew- he was the one both her and Steve had asked for help before Thanos. He was the one who swallowed his feelings for her and gave her a friendly shoulder to rest her head. "Thank you" Steve mouthed to her. She smiled, eyes covered in tears threatening to spill. "Go".And he was gone. Bucky gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she turned to face him. Unknown him, she had become aware of his feelings. And her own, slowly but steadily. "A soul that carries empathy is a soul which has survived enormous pain" she softly whispered as if she didn't want to be heard. He felt that she could read his mind. All those years ago, another Bucky had existed- one who flirted shamelessly with everyone. He had to get in touch with him if he wanted a chance with her, he thought, only to be proven wrong after a while. He just had to be himself.

She had finally realized that Steve and her were exactly like the moon and the sun- and their time together was an eclipse, a breathtaking phenomenon, a glimpse of what it could have been. A moment. And that was okay. She regretted nothing. It was perfect in its imperfection.

She found herself knocking Bucky's door, not knowing why. All she wanted was to see the stars but somehow when she was greeted by sliver blue eyes, the stars seemed inefficient. He was the night, she thought.

"Can I stay here for a while?"... because I am scared when I am alone? He opened up his door to let her get inside because he knew the part of the sentence that left unsaid. His room was warm with a serene view of the night sky. He knew that she loved to gaze the stars, how she would always complain that the moon was a hypocrite. But not tonight. She felt gravitated towards him which made him blush, thankful for the darkness. To say that he hadn't wished for a moment with her, it would be a lie. He was pulled towards her like a magnet and in all honesty, he didn't want to leave far away and get over her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked her in a hushed tone as he laid to his bed, eyes watching her every move. She let a tired chuckle and sat down next to him. He pierced her eyes and she felt naked - and she didn't mind. It was okay for him to see her in all her doomed glory.

"Jay, its past midnight and I’ve pretty much thought of all the words hoping to find something that can remedy this... I can try but my vocabulary falls short when it comes to describing the matters of my heart. My heart. Not yours - mine. I could fill pages about the likes and dislikes of your heart. What makes you tremble what softens you up. I know you like the back of my hand. I know your anger and I know your vulnerability. Vulnerability…. what does that even mean? I guess it happens when you finally take the leap to open up to one who might not ever see you the same again. I guess that your weakness is not supposed to be a different form of feeling when it comes to me. And it isn't. I guess that attachments don’t exist between the two of us. But it does. And I guess, well I guess, that I love you a bit more each day and bit less on the days you choose to ignore me. No, wait, that's a lie. And I know that this is way too forward and yes, he was, is, your best friend, and my ex, which can be a bit awkward - but you know what? He made a choice, but not before I do. I had already fallen for you and if it's weird -" he did not let her finish. The words coming from hee mouth were burning fires inside his head, for years now. His lips were ever so gently upon hers. It almost didn't feel like a kiss.

In the end, everyone wanted to be like Icarus, hoping to fly high and soar far. Nobody was satisfied with their standing and kept pushing their limits. And that was human... full of life, blinded, arrogant, wonderful... always falling in the end. But not every fall hurts. She landed softly on his lips, her hands caressing his face and his were holding her tight as if she was a dream and he would soon wake up.

He was the stars and she was the moon. Finally, it worked.

'From stars we came, to stars we'll return and in the middle is all we are'

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bondsmagii · 5 years ago

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(over the last month or so, I’ve been working on a small project for Halloween. I’ve long since been fascinated by the paranormal experiences that occur in childhood -- it seems everyone has at least one incident that occurred when they were younger that they can’t explain now. I have many, of course, but I started thinking about the children I grew up with. what were my childhood friends experiencing at the same age as I was, when we were in class together; hung around together? I managed to get in touch with several old friends I had from the ages of 8-11, and asked them to share that one incident they couldn’t explain. I have recreated the stories here, with my own narrative supported by excerpts from their letters -- and it’s a pretty impressive bunch of stories.)

SEAN

Something to know about Sean is that he didn’t have the best upbringing. The details of this aren’t relevant to the story he tells me, outside of setting the context as to why Sean was in this position in the first place, and he’s also asked me to be vague with his background. As such, the only detail that is needed to set the scene here is that Sean’s parents were not great parents, and from the age of thirteen to nineteen, Sean lived on the streets.

Sean was thirteen when the following encounter occurred. In order to make some money and to ensure some relative safety, Sean had fallen in with a gang of petty criminals who specialised in theft. Usually they would steal smaller items, such as wallets and purses, cash from people’s pockets, and mobile phones. On other occasions they would steal larger items, like bicycles or the occasional moped. This is pretty common fare in London, where Sean was living rough, and one of the major crimes London is known for is what’s called a snatch and grab theft. This is where somebody on a bicycle or moped rides very quickly and very closely past somebody, and snatches their smartphone out of their hands as they pass. By the time the victim has realised something has happened, the bike or moped is already halfway down the street. Such crimes are quick enough that several can be committed on the same night (and often the same street), and as the bikes or mopeds are stolen and the rider wears a helmet or other facial covering, it’s near impossible to catch the perpetrator. Sean had discovered a latent talent for such a crime.

One night, around pub closing time where most people on the street would be some level of drunk, Sean was making his small fortune. He was riding a stolen moped at the time, cruising around the streets and looking for an opportunity. When he spotted someone appropriate – usually a drunk person, alone, and standing near the road or on an empty bit of sidewalk – he would make his move, ride past, and snatch whatever it was in their hand (usually a phone). This night, Sean recalls he already had three phones, and he was going to round it off to four and then call it a night.

His final victim was towards the end of the shopping street. Many London high streets are of the following layout: a long street of shops with very wide sidewalks, and flats above the shops. The road is usually quite wide also, with at least one regular traffic lane going in each direction, and a bus lane on each side, too. There are streetlights, but the shopfronts are all dark, and because of the differentiating spaces between bars, huge stretches of the street can be completely deserted even at pub closing time. It’s not uncommon for such places to have a green somewhere along the road, too – a large open expanse of grass, usually with a children’s playpark included. Such places are very common, and London can sometimes be remarkably green for a capital city. Where Sean was at the moment, this green was not too far away, and on the other side of the road to the side he was travelling on.

His intended victim was shortly ahead of him, standing close to the road and texting. Sean mounted the sidewalk and shot past, snatching the phone out of his hand. This man was perhaps slightly more sober than Sean had intended, because he realised quickly what had happened and gave chase for a short time, but Sean easily outpaced him on the moped. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, he increased his speed and headed up towards the green.

He gave one final glance behind him, just to make sure the man had given up, and as he caught sight of him he did so in just the same moment that the man had admitted defeat – he was throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. Sean turned back to face the road and, as he did so, caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced back, and described to me what he saw in the following part of his letter:

There was somebody running after me, and at first I thought it was the bloke whose phone I’d nicked. I thought maybe he’d decided to make another go of catching me, but then I saw that it couldn’t have been the same guy. The guy I’d nicked the phone from was wearing kind of a smart shirt and stuff, you know, for the bars and things, but this guy was dressed in bulkier clothing and his shoes were heavy as hell because I could hear them thudding on the road as he chased me. That’s another thing, too – he was running on the road rather than the pavement, like just in the middle of the lane coming after me.

I’m like “what the fuck” so I gun it up to about forty miles an hour, just hauling ass down this empty road, and I can still hear his feet just thudding along behind me. I look, and I swear to god he’s got closer. He’s really gaining on me. There’s about I don’t know, eight shopfronts between us, and then six, and then four… mind you, I’m still going at about forty. I don’t want to speed too much because I don’t want people hearing the engine revving and calling the police for noise complaints or whatever, but I can’t deny what I’m seeing. I go to about fifty and this guy is still catching up. By now I’m totally shitting myself.

The chase continued up towards the green, where Sean reports that the man was getting closer still. He was running in a straight line up the middle of the road, his eyes fixed firmly on Sean, and inexplicably seemed to be gaining on him despite Sean going up to fifty miles an hour. Out of desperation, Sean veered off the road and across the green, pushing sixty as he hurtled across the uneven ground, almost throwing himself off the moped in the process. There were no lights at all on the green – only the dim light from the moon straining through the light pollution of the city – and several times Sean glanced back and saw nothing. He began to relax and slowed to a safer speed – around thirty miles an hour – and had just started to really realise just what he had witnessed when he became aware of a strange sound coming from his immediate left.

It sounded like a kind of scuffling, like a big dog running full pelt through the grass and leaves and stuff. I looked behind me again and saw nothing, and then realised it wasn’t coming from behind me but actually beside me, so I look down and honest to god the guy is running on all fours beside me. Not like how you might crawl around as a kid, either – it was like his joints had changed, his hips were at a different angle and he was moving his legs like how an animal would run. He looked at me and his face was just so fucking blank, but when I looked at his eyes I realised both of them were yellowish and caught the light like a cat’s would. I slammed on the brakes so he overshot me and hauled the moped back around towards the street, going full pelt until I got back on the tarmac. When I dared glance back, there was nothing, and thank fuck it stayed nothing.

Sean has tried to explain what he saw numerous times, but insists that while during that time period he regularly drank alcohol, he didn’t do any drugs that might have resulted in hallucinations. He was sober at the time and recalls the event clearly. Usually something of a sceptic, the situation frustrates him because, despite constant assessment, he cannot find a way to explain what he saw that night, and he has never experienced anything similar since.

#creeptastic #creepypasta #halloween posts #paranormal #unexplained #childhood experiences project #my creepypasta

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phantomwitch16 · 4 years ago

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Real Dreams, Fake Compassion

Hey, this is a kind of snippet of what I wanted to do to do back when this I first came to me a few years ago. Back then, this was going to be a mix of the shows and series I was into at the time with my favourite character facing a lot of tough shit.

Now, the idea is very different, with the only series involved is Inazuma 11. This is the original post which I have edited, added and cut a lot out of it so I could fix the narrative. It might not be all that great, just to warn you. So it might be familiar to those have read it before back when I first posted this in 2020.

Also warning this has mention of self harm, depression, ptsd and some other dark subjects. You have been warned.

__________________________________________________

Blade ducked and jumped away from the man as an energy blast was shot at his head. He glanced back and growled under his breath. Dammit, he was almost hit. The energy field around him absorbed the attacks as he readied a blood-red energy orb that fit easily in his right fist.

Constable chuckled darkly as a golden-yellow orb that was about the size of melon forming in his hands." It's been a long time, boy. I see that despite your lack of training over the past year and a half now, you're still as agile and strong as I remember."

The former squire growled at the mention of his old title." What are you doing here, Constable?" he sneered, glaring up at the man." If I remembered correctly, you despised being here. It must be terrible if you of all people crawled out of Wonderland just to see little old me."

"I assure you, Blade, that I am here by the orders of the queen herself. There's a situation that has come up, and the queen needs our allies and men to return home." The older woman answered, and Blade's orb turned into a brighter shade of blue.

The boy rolled his eyes in disgust." Of course, there is. Why else would you show your face to me after everything that happened?"

Constable scoffed before he gave Blade a coy look and began walking over to him." Oh, come now, Blade. You've always known you were always my favourite."

Blade scoffed." Funny. I always assumed Midori was your favourite out of the two of us. Given how much time you spent with her, this kind of surprised me."

The man let out a laugh." You know I care more about results and precision. While she was strong, she lacked the necessary…skills and motivation to get those results like you did."

"Well, at least one of us will be leaving this life pleased." The boy muttered sarcastically, giving Constable a fake smile.

"If that's true, show me then, Knave." He growled, glaring at the young boy.

The two threw their orbs at each other, with there being a resulting explosion when they met.

“So before you went to the sleepover at Sorano’s house, a hole just appeared from under you and took you?” Tsurugi asked as he and Midori walked back from the school to Midori’s apartment complex.

Midori nodded.” Yep.”

“Then you were brought to this weird fairytale world where everyone there looked exactly like everyone that you knew, including us?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And for the three months you went missing, you were literally caught in the crossfire of some political disagreements, and the people there used you to sort out every petty fight that resulted in physical conflicts afterwards?”

The girl sighed.” Pretty much. I know it sounds stupid and unbelievable, but it’s true. I don’t have proof or anything, but please don’t look at me and call me crazy. I’ll already get enough of that back at home with my mom.”

“I’m not saying that your story isn’t true, senpai. Really, I kind of believe you.” The junior said, earning a perplexed look from Midori.” Look, given the fact that we know time travel exists and we’ve met aliens. I think the idea of another world connected to ours might not be so far fetched.”

She stared at him for a moment before she turned to look back down at the pavement.” That at least makes one of us.” She murmured.

Tsurugi looked up at her and gave her a confused look.” Senpai?”

“Ever since I came back, I thought everything was all a dream,” Midori admitted quietly, stopping in front of an alleyway with her friend stopping beside her.” In fact, I outright denied it. I thought I just got attacked at my house then got taken by weirdos for a few months before turning up in the alleyway. That my mind just made things up to cope with the trauma.”

“But ever since I came back, the memories…the trauma, it kept on coming back.” She said, shifting in her spot on the pavement.” Every night I would wake up from nightmares about that place. Whether it was on the battlefield or within the walls of the kingdom. And since then, something…somethings been happening to me. For a while now, somethings been holding me back, weighing me down to the point where I don’t have the energy to get my own bed my bed.”

She looked at her right hand, the white bandage that was wrapped securely around it, a dull pain pulsing under it.” And when I do…I feel so numb. It’s gone to the point where I get curious whether or not I can feel things anymore.”

With another sighed she looked back up, pushing the strands of hair out of her face with her bandaged hand.” The worst part is that I didn’t even notice how bad it was for me until Aoi and Akane talked to me about it. They told me that they knew something was up for a while and how they felt…long story short, I started looking at myself from a different perspective. Honestly, I can’t blame them for being concerned. I would’ve been, too, if the shoe was on the other foot. But I wonder if you and the others noticed too before they told me.”

Tsurugi did, in fact, notice. Everyone in the club has. Since she came back, Midori became quiet, reclusive and skittish. She became thinner, bags began to grow under her eyes, and her appearance became more dishevelled. It became the topic of concern when she returned to school. Especially since she started to get hurt more often.

But he didn’t say anything and just let her speak her mind.

He looked back up at him,” Then one day, my hand started to glow. The stuff in my room started floating in the air. That’s when I realised shit was real.” She said, pulling off the bandage to reveal a tender red burn mark on the back of her hand.

Tsurugi winced upon seeing it.” Is that alright?”

“Not at the moment. But it will be in a second.” She answered.

Without another word, her hand began to gleam bright blue. The junior watched in awe as the burn mark quickly began to fade away. Just as the wound finally heal there was a loud and sudden crash startled the two teens.

“What the hell was that?” Tsurugi exclaimed, looking down the street.

Midori looked around before her attention turned to the alleyway beside them. She stared down there intently for a moment before she spotted something. Then took off.

“Senpai! Wait!” Tsurugi exclaimed as he ran after she ran into the dark alleyway.

The girl kept her eyes trained to the shield, following the massive amounts of magic that practically flowed through the air. Then several meters in front of her was a clearing with Blade and Constable already there charging another attack.

Midori’s heart stopped when she saw them. She didn’t know what surprised her more. Was it the familiar faces that haunted her dreams for over a year? Or was it the raw power she felt coursing their attacks?

There was another attack, making the girl jump back to see two orbs flying at the other. The two easily deflected them, with Constable put up her hand and absorbed orb while Blade dodged it.

The boy looked precisely like Tsurugi. From his pale skin, lanky figure, spikey dark blue hair and sharp golden eyes. He wore a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt with pieces of armour strapped to his left shoulder and knee caps, black pants and brown boots.

He wore regal white clothing that reminded Midori of European royalty with red and black accents. Meanwhile, the man with him looked like the spitting image of Sennguji Daigo.

Tsurugi quietly came up and hid behind the trees beside her. He doubletake when he saw the two in front of them. He turned to Midori with an expression of disbelief on his face and muttered to her.” Is that me and Mr Sennguji?”

Midori didn’t respond. She could only stare at the pair who had her attention, hearing little snippets of the conversation.

"You must obey me, Blade." Constable growled, holding out his left hand towards the boy as an animous yellow glow began to shimmer." This was the very deal your queen agreed to back when you first came under my wing. Now came along." He ordered, clenching her hand into a fist.

Blade loudly grunt, falling to his knees but didn't move any closer towards him. The woman's eyes narrowed again before she sighed loudly.

She made her way towards him and grabbed his chin, turning him to face her as she gives him a sympathetic look." Blade. I understand what you're feeling right now. I know that you hold a great deal of anger and rage towards the people in Wonderland and even me. Please, let me help make it up to you. Come back to Wonderland, fight with us to defeat the emperor and the warlords. Leave this pathetic world and help avenge Midori."

They stared at her before a chuckle left his lips before full-blown laughter began to echo the area. The two teenagers hiding behind the trees stared at him in shock, as did Warlock, who took several steps back away from him, taking a defensive stance.

"You think…" he said before letting out a small snort." You think I am going to help you avenge her?" Blade cackled as he turned his gaze up at the man. Blue sprouted up in his neck as he pushed himself back to his feet." You actually dare to try and persuade me to go back and help you!? After everything that we went through!? After all of the abuse you put us through for months, and you think that I will ever go back listening to you after she ended up dead?!"

Tsurugi paused in disbelief when they heard that word. Abuse, he thought before slowly turning his head to see Midori frozen, her eyes widened, and her mouth left open.

Blade's hair began to darken as he slowly began to walk towards Constable, as animalistic features seeped into his face." Why do you need me? After all, you have dozens of more child soldiers. I’m sure you won’t mind using them as your weapons as you did with myself and Midori. I mean, you already used the same tactics as you did with her. So why don’t you just leave."

Memories of the acts she did while working under Constable came back in excruciating detail. The weight of the sword in her hands. The feeling of her jumping in the air, sword in hand. The loud screams of hundreds of soldiers ringing in her ears. Warm liquid flowing down her face and the image of a soldier losing the light in their eyes. The same look that he had when he was dying.

Her vision began to obscure as her breath suddenly began to quicken. Something wet drop down on her cheeks.

“Oh, please, Blade, you know you and Midori were different compared to them,” Constable called out, pulling out a knife from his overcoat.” After all, the two of you are war heroes. You managed to save the kingdom from political disaster numerous times. I made you powerful.”

“Your masters were the very reason why we were in those political disasters in tha\e first place!” the boy yelled, more fur growing around his neck.” There was so much damage to the political systems of the surrounding kingdoms and cities you had to kidnap someone powerful enough to fix those mistakes!”

Blade looked angry and ashamed with himself when he said that. Tsurugi watched on as horror grew on his face. Midori took in the emotional scene as her body leaned heavily against the wall for support.

After a moment of silence, they continued glaring at the nobleman in front of her." And look what happened to Midori. You broke her down until she was a shell of what she used to be before she was finally finished off. Now, unless you want to be flung into the ground, I would kindly suggest you leave and bring your trash with you." He said, throwing several trinkets on the ground in front of the man.

Constable sighed heavily before giving Blade a disdained look." Is that really why you refuse to help us? Your home? How pathetic. Now I see why the two of you were close. It was a shame that she died. You loved her.” He said, closing up the image and turned the boy.” I thought that having a close relationship with you would be beneficial. You two became the perfect weapons. I could've even taken over all of the kingdoms using both of you if I wanted to. But given the events that have transpired, it seems I was wrong.”

The man’s words again struck something in Midori. It was as if her entire world started to crumble around her.

What...what happened, she thought. Why...why was something like this happening again? No...no, this can't be real. This has got to be one of her delusions again, right? Right, she wasn't in some pocket dimension seeing these two people, she didn't see any weird landmarks from the top of her apartment building that wasn't there before, and she didn't meet that boy and his dog who looked so familiar to her. She was back in Inazuma Town, having an utterly everyday life. She didn't go down to a world of make-believe where she was poorly treated, forced to fight in an arm, part of a war where she had no-

A hand was placed on Midori's shoulder, bringing her back to reality. She turned around to see Tsurugi looking at her worriedly." Senpai. Are you okay?"

Midori stared at him for a brief moment before slowly shaking her head. Tears decorated her scarred face, leaving her eyes bloodshot and looking much paler than she was before.

Blade took a step back as Constable raised her hand a brought up an image of Midori in her battle uniform. She looked…so different. Her bangs were shorter, barely covering the dark bags under her eyes and the deadpan dark red orbs that were her eyes. A giant bandage was wrapped around the right side of her face. The short white dress, the armoured boots and even the leggings underneath the dress were blood. In Midori's armoured gloves was a sizeable bloody sword that was decorated in gemstones.

Something about her eyes didn't sit well with Midori. Whenever she would use magic, her eye colour would change from green to blue to yellow-orange and red depending on her emotional state or how much magic she was using. But her eyes...were never that dark. Her eye colours would've been very defined or bright. But her eyes in the image were a deep burgundy colour, almost black.

Blade gasped at the image before he turned to the man with a rage-filled looking in his eyes." You kept that!?"

Constable continued, staring at the image with a fond look in her eye." Of course, this was her first battle. I wanted to remember the moment. One of my proudest. My only regret with that girl is that I never made her complicit to me and me alone. Blanc and the others made her question her position, her loyalty and even sympathetic to our enemies. The only way I could get her to be utterly loyal to me was to make her believe that she had no one and returning to her world after everything that happened would lead to disastrous consequences. It's a shame. She could've done so much more than what she had already done."

The memories of her waking up with a bloody sword in her hand came back to light. She remembers the horror she felt as she found the body of an older man in front of her. She dropped the sword and covered her mouth, and turned to look away. Only she couldn't escape the sight…next to her were even more bodies, all with the duplicate slashes and stab wounds, all of them caused by the same sword.

"We have wasted enough time, Knave." Constable stated as the image disappeared and her magic return, her hands balling up into a fist, making the boy's body stiffen." Now, let's go back to the kingdom and win the war."

"…I should've known better…." Midori murmured, keeping her head low as she walked into the energy field. Her voice was so quiet and weak, it could break at any moment.

Blade and the Constable froze upon hearing that voice, then swiftly turned around to see Midori out of the trees staring at them. Tsurugi stayed back hidden by the foliage of the trees, giving the older woman an absolute disgusted look while Midori just stared at them with a poker face.

Then the reality and the weight of Constable's words sunk into them as they stared at the girl.

"Midori!" Constable exclaimed with a slight tremor in her voice, backtracking as he tried to act like he didn’t just confess his manipulative and outright abusive nature towards her and Blade. He turned to the girl, giving her the exact same smile she would give her back when she was back in the kingdom. His soldier…or, to be more precise, her puppet." You're here… you're alive! Thank goodness! I was just-!"

The man began to move towards the girl when a dark blue ball was flung past her shoulders, nearly hitting him on the left side of his face. He froze, hearing the explosion behind him as she took in the expression on her face and her body language. Her stature was relaxed, and her face devoid of any emotion. Only one arm was raised to send that attack. The essence of the magic she used was being lifted up into the air. Her face was covered by the shadow her bangs provided obscured her face.

However…he could make out the emotions she could see in the girl's eyes. Her eyes were bright red, reflecting the pure rage coursing through her veins.

Midori was known to get angered easily. Hell, there was more than one occasion where she would often show no mercy for anyone who dared to cross her. But now…this was different. It wasn't like the moments of rage they had faced before. This was pure and utter hatred...

"Just what?" she snapped, cutting him off." What were you saying? That Blanc was right about you? That for the months I was with you, you have been lying to me, manipulating me, using me as a tool and fucking up with my head while you forced my best friend to keep his mouth shut so that he couldn't help me? That the atrocities that I committed were all you? That I let you fucking use me to be your head soldier of the army, be the fucking cavalier of the war that you and those associates of yours started, so I get the blame for whatever bad shit happened."

The girl's short hair began to float above her head, making it look a little reminiscent of Gouenji's hair. But under the amount of hair, Tsurugi could see the scars hiding under the strands of her hair. His eyes widened when he saw the faded marks that began to glow through the fabric of her clothes. Just how many did she have!? How many did they give her?

They didn't need to speak to know what they were feeling. That the Midori standing in front of him wasn’t the girl he easily manipulated all those years ago. Right now, he saw the powerful soldier that he created. And honestly, she terrified them.

Constable gasped as Midori suddenly stood right in front of him, her eyes practically burning holes through her very soul. The girl grabbed the man's robes and pulled her face down to her level.

"I'm going to give you a little piece of advice now, Constable." The girl growled as her grip tightened around her robes." If you're going to go back to the kingdom and still pretend to actually give a shit about the people around you, that's fine. If you're going to go around parading your new status around your underlings and abuse it, go right ahead. But I will only say this once, so listen. Blanc and the others will know about everything soon. They will deal with the fallouts of their kingdom, with or without your precious weapons. They don't need Blade or me to solve it with violence. They never did."

Midori leaned in slightly, staring into the man's dark eyes with ." So if you dare consider coming back to the Upper Realms, putting my world in danger for whatever bullshit you have in store or to bring me back as your little puppet again, the last thing you will ever see will be my fist. Or better yet, my sword. Do us both a favour, stay the hell away."

The redhead let go of her robes, and the woman stumbled back, staring at the young girl who previously was another one of her prized soldiers. Constable's eyes narrowed as a portal opened underneath her, falling through without another word.

Midori stared at the place where Constable stood before she went back to her normal appearance. She took a deep breath. The adrenaline of the magic Midori used and the anger inside made her hands shake. She shuddered before turning to Blade, who just stood there staring at her. His hair returned to normal, and the marks were gone, but his entire body was shaking.

"You… you're real…right…?" He questioned as he fell to his knees, still holding up the girl's gaze." You're not a dream… you're not some illusion Constable is using to trick me, right?"

Blade shuddered before he began crying into his hands. Midori stared at him and nodded slowly before she walked over to him, bent down and gave him a hug. Blade melted into it, tightly gripping onto her uniform as she began rocking him in her arms as if she were to disappear if he were to let go of her.

#inazuma eleven #seto midori #tsurugi kyousuke #my post #my writing

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bigskydreaming · 6 years ago

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The Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason...and Tim...and Damian...and, well, you get it

I maintain that Dick’s history with juvie and the system is actually crucial to understanding his and Jason’s dynamic, not to mention the reasons Bruce took Jason in at all in the first place.

Its usually described as though Bruce took in all his kids because they reminded him of himself in various ways, but that’s not really true. With Dick, yes, its been clearly canonized this was his motivation. He looked at Dick, who does look a lot like Bruce, especially when they were both younger, and saw a mirror of himself when he was a kid and had just lost his parents. He eventually took Dick in because he wanted to keep Dick from turning out like he had, consumed by his mission, his need to keep bad things from happening to other people, like had happened to him. To make sure Dick had more to his life than just that. He wanted a do-over in a lot of ways. Raising him was a way for Bruce to kinda see how his life would’ve turned out differently, how he would’ve ended up, if he’d taken a different path, if there’d been someone who understood his pain and the intensity of his drive to DO something with all the emotions his parents’ death left him with.

Yes, of course Bruce had Alfred, but its also been clearly laid out in the comics that Alfred - for as much as he saw Bruce as a son - just couldn’t relate to him in the same way Bruce could to Dick. He never really understood Bruce’s need to become Batman, he just went with it and supported him anyway, because he’s Alfred and that’s what he does. His kid wants to dress up like a giant bat and go fight crime? Well, okay, lemme get my sewing machine, guess he’s gonna need a costume.

And then with Tim, well, Tim came to Bruce, not the other way around, and they’ve always had an understanding because they come from very similar backgrounds. Same social standing, similar environments....Tim was neglected by his largely absent parents, not actually orphaned (until later), but Bruce definitely saw reminders of his own self-imposed isolation in Tim’s parentally-imposed isolation. There’s similar links and parallels between Bruce and Damian, Cass and Duke.

Jason was always the outlier.

Bruce never took Jason in because he saw a reminder of himself in Jason, (with the exception of Jason’s anger, which he could relate to on many levels, sure). But Jason’s story really has zero parallels with Bruce. Bruce met him when he was stealing the tires off the Batmobile. Both his parents were still alive, even if they weren’t exactly nurturing influences. He came from a wildly different social background and upbringing, was foul-mouthed, angry, bitter, vindictive, petty. Hell, he didn’t even actually look anything like Bruce, the way we tend to joke about Bruce taking in boys who look just like him. Originally, Jason had red hair. Bruce dyed his hair when he made him Robin. The idea that Bruce took Jason in for the same reason he took in his other kids, because he saw himself reflected in him, saw what he could’ve been if his life had gone a little differently, it just doesn’t work. On any level. There’s no scenario in which Bruce ever could have lived any version of Jason’s life. No scenario in which Jason was only a few degrees removed from Bruce’s own personal experiences.

No, Bruce took Jason in for one reason and one reason only - because he looked at him and saw Dick Grayson. He saw the boy Dick Grayson could have grown up to become if Bruce hadn’t taken him in, if Dick had been left to rot in juvie or elsewhere in Gotham’s corrupt system. If Dick had fallen through the cracks without anyone to catch him, the way Jason clearly had.

Forgetting where Dick came from, ignoring his original backstory, completely obliterates Bruce’s entire motivation for adopting Jason. And it completely erases Bruce’s real role in the trainwreck that became his relationship with both Jason and with Dick, not to mention the original relationship between Jason and Dick.

Because Bruce fucked up, big time, when he took Jason in. Oh, not that he shouldn’t have done it, but in the WHY he did it, and the fact that he never really acknowledged this and nobody ever really called him out for it. With Dick, Bruce was trying to give him a better life. Even if he fumbled and went about it the wrong way, his motivations were still pretty pure. Bruce was aware enough on some level of his own flaws, his own deep-seated dissatisfaction with his own life, to genuinely want to steer someone he saw himself in from going down the same road, making the same mistakes. A huge number of Bruce and Dick’s early conflicts were essentially Bruce frustrated that he didn’t know how to get Dick to stop making the same mistakes Bruce himself regretted making. Not getting that it still had to be up to Dick whether or not he did, that the choices ultimately had to be his.

But with Jason....Bruce’s motivations were not so selfless, and they were not nearly as self-aware. Bruce took Jason in pretty much in the immediate aftermath of his biggest fight with Dick ever, when he fired Dick as Robin and basically kicked him out...entirely out of an emotionally stunted sense of self-preservation. The idea of Dick being hurt, of losing him if he died, it terrified Bruce so completely that he pushed him away, as though if he lost him on HIS terms, deliberately, that would somehow be better, it’d hurt less. Except it didn’t. He regretted it immediately, but he didn’t know how to fix it without owning that he’d fucked up, without explaining to Dick WHY he’d done what he did, allowing himself to be vulnerable and admitting just how terrified he was of losing him....and Bruce just was not capable of that at the time (as if he is now, even).

And so then he’s out fighting crime one night and returns to the Batmobile, to find some scrawny little kid stealing the tires off it. A kid who wasn’t remotely apologetic, who was defiant, and ballsy, and not about to be intimidated by even the goddamn Batman, who swung his tire iron at this giant dude in a Bat costume, spitting and kicking and screaming as if he had the slightest chance of winning. It didn’t matter to him that he didn’t, couldn’t, Jason Todd was going down swinging. And in that moment, you can not tell me that its himself Bruce Wayne saw. That he looked at Jason and saw any version of himself or the kid he once was or even one he could have ended up as.

Nope, he saw Dick Grayson, the tiny little acrobat who’d guilt tripped him, HIM, into letting him dress up in bright yellow and green and run across rooftops taking on bad guys twice his size, villains he shouldn’t have had a prayer of defeating but did anyway, because he just refused to accept an alternative as reality. He saw the kid a young, angry Dick Grayson could’ve grown up to be if he’d been left in juvie, if he’d never had anyone else take him in and show him the kindness he thought he’d never see again after his parents died. He saw the Dick Grayson who’d been originally consumed not with Bruce’s desire to pursue justice, but with a desire to pursue REVENGE. I know everyone tends to view it as the other way around, but that doesn’t actually check out. Even in the backstories where Bruce finds the actual killer who murdered his parents, Joe Chill, Bruce’s own views on killing restrict him from every taking revenge rather than just making sure he goes to prison.

Not so, with Dick. Another element of Dick’s original backstory that everybody largely glosses over, even if they do technically keep it in mind - Dick Grayson wasn’t born this pure, virtuous, glowing saint that so many fans and other characters make him out to be. The exact specifics vary in the different versions of his backstory reboots have resulted in, but in the vast majority of them, this is a kid who ran away and ruthlessly hunted down his parents’ murderer, Tony Zucco, and who usually had every intention of killing him if Bruce hadn’t stopped him. Dick was old enough to know right from wrong, murder is bad, blah blah....he just didn’t care. And Bruce didn’t stop him by making some compelling argument or showing him the error of his ways, he didn’t tell him anything Dick didn’t already know. Essentially, what all those various takes on the Zucco plot boil down to is Dick only really refrained from trying to kill Zucco, settling for bringing him in, because Bruce wanted him to. Because Bruce was the first and only person to show Dick any kindness since his parents died, and THAT is what Dick clung to, that was what he didn’t want to lose.

(A little off topic, but additionally I’ve always maintained that Dick doesn’t have this obsessive anti-killing stance that most people make him out to, being even more rigid in it than Bruce. This is the guy who has an extremely complex relationship with Deathstroke, who’s mentored Ravager, who is the closest sibling relationship Damian has, not to mention his relationships with Huntress, Midnighter, Tiger, etc - all people who have killed many, many times, and often without remorse. Yes, Dick broke down after his role in Blockbuster’s death, and he had a panic attack immediately after killing the Joker, before Bruce resuscitated him - but if you ask me, this isn’t because his personal morality doesn’t make allowances for killing, its because deep down he’s still insecure about his place in Bruce’s life, and that HIM killing someone, specifically, could cost him his father’s affections. Which is a TOTALLY different thing from being too good or pure to kill, which is how he’s often painted as by writers and in fandom).

Anyway. Point being, the surly, defensive kid Jason Todd was when Bruce met him was absolutely someone Dick Grayson, orphaned circus kid remanded to juvie and likely to have fallen through the cracks and ended up on his own if Bruce hadn’t intervened, could have ended up as. And so while Bruce had looked at Dick that first night at the circus and seen the potential for a do-over for himself, the road not taken, with this cemented on the night he steered Dick away from killing Zucco and instead prioritizing (Bruce’s personal view of) justice.....Bruce looked at Jason that night in Crime Alley and saw the potential for a do-over for his relationship with Dick, with the son he’d driven away, possibly for good.

And herein lies the fuck-up. Because while I do believe Bruce eventually grew to see Jason as his own person and love him on his own merits, for himself, and not just as Dick 2.0, he took too long getting there, and hurt both Dick and Jason way too much along the way. All because he’s too much of a control freak to just accept that it was these tendencies that’d driven Dick away, that HE was the problem. Yeah, Dick contributed, sure, but Dick was the child. Bruce was the parent. It was always his responsibility to suck it up, swallow his pride, and be the one to reach out and repair the damage he’d caused by pushing Dick away. But because Bruce has so much trouble admitting where he’s done harm, he couldn’t do that. He’s this weird dichotomy of self-aware and willfully blind. He has no problem seeing his flaws when they exist in a vacuum. When they’re ones nobody’s getting actively getting hurt by in the moment. But because so much of his personality is centered around his all-consuming desire to protect his loved ones, keep them safe at all costs, ensure that he doesn’t lose them the way he lost his parents.....over and over and over again in the comics, he proves incapable of recognizing when that very same desire is the thing that’s actually harming them. He took in half a dozen kids who all shared a need to fly, to spread their wings, and time and time again kept falling in the same trap of trying to clip those same wings because he was equally terrified of them falling.

But because Bruce was so willfully blind to his own role in hurting his son, couldn’t reconcile his desperate desire to keep Dick safe with the realization that he was the one doing Dick the most harm.....he HAD to convince himself that Dick was the problem. That if he, Bruce, had made mistakes, that they were mistakes that he’d done along the way, places he’d gone wrong in raising Dick, resulting in Dick growing up to be this person Bruce could no longer relate to, no longer see himself in, that he couldn’t be a father to. And so, with Jason, he saw a chance to do it all over again, and do it right this time. Fix the mistakes he’d made the first time around, be a better father, make sure Jason didn’t grow up to be the man Dick had grown up to be, the way he’d once set out to make sure Dick didn’t grow up to be the man Bruce had become.

And so he created this trap that Jason and Dick had no chance to avoid falling into. There was no way around it. Because unintentionally or not, he’d pitted his two sons, two brothers, against each other before they ever even had a chance to meet. He’d made it a competition that both were doomed to be stuck in even as neither could EVER hope to actually win. Dick was screwed because he could never hope to beat the kid that Bruce had essentially replaced him with, not when Bruce had only done that because due to his own fuck-ups, Bruce had decided Dick needed replacing, because their relationship was beyond repair. And Jason could never hope to beat the kid that Bruce had taken him in to replace, because he was from the get-go pitted against Bruce’s IDEALIZED image of his first Robin and son, the person he WANTED Dick to be, and who didn’t actually exist outside of Bruce’s refusal to admit his own fault in his fractured relationship with Dick.

The very things he did that were GOOD for Jason, healthy, helpful, empowering....at the same time, HURT Dick. He adopted as his official son and heir within months of meeting him, even though he didn’t end up adopting Dick, his son of over ten years by that point, until years after Jason died, long after Dick was already a grown adult. And this was a good thing for Jason, at first. Bruce DID love Jason, had already by this point started seeing all the ways Jason was his own person, not a second Dick Grayson, and being officially adopted gave Jason a sense of security and certainty in his place there that he desperately needed. Problem is, Bruce only adopted Jason so quickly and easily because he recognized that this was a mistake he’d made the first time, with Dick. That it’d been a mistake putting off adopting Dick, that he’d always backed out of showing Dick the adoption papers he’d had drawn up for YEARS by that point. All because Bruce was afraid of rejection, that if he tried to insist too hard on being Dick’s father, tried to actually draw comparisons between himself and Dick’s first father, the idolized John Grayson, he’d come up short and get an answer he was afraid to hear. It was easier with Jason, since Jason had never had a good relationship with his own biological father and had zero problem rating Bruce the clear winner in any competition between them.

But of course this hurt Dick at the same time it helped Jason, because he HAD always wanted Bruce to officially adopt him, and it was his own insecurities that kept him from broaching the subject and asking why he hadn’t. The very fact that Bruce knew to do this with Jason, that it’d been a mistake not to push it with Dick, was because on some level, Bruce did know that Dick wanted this, needed this even, and that his own fears of rejection were baseless paranoia.....there’s no way to avoid this compounding his issues with Dick, because it meant that on some level, Bruce had once again denied Dick something he desperately needed and craved from him. A clear indication of their relationship, where Dick stood with Bruce, how Bruce viewed him. Ironically, at the very same time this proved that Bruce’s fear of Dick rejecting him were baseless, it proved that Dick’s insecurities WEREN’T baseless, because his place in Bruce’s eyes WASN’T entirely secure. He COULD be replaced.

And there’s the irony of Jason’s nickname for Tim. “The Replacement.” Only it was never actually ironic, so much as it was insightful. Born of Jason’s own insecurities. Because long before Tim came along, in the original family drama that was Bruce and Dick and Jason.....JASON was the original replacement, and they all knew it, only Bruce refused to admit it. Kept trying to act like it was all in Dick and Jason’s heads, even while every choice he made with the two of them just hammered in the reality that it WASN’T. Neither of them was stupid. They were the original sons of the world’s greatest detective. Trained to be observant and insightful. To read between the lines. They knew damn well that everything Bruce did with Jason was only because Bruce had decided (at the time) that his relationship with Dick was beyond repair. Unsalvageable. He’d essentially given up on Dick as a son, written off any possibility of having the father-son relationship he’d always secretly wanted to have with Dick, all because he refused to admit he was the one standing in the way of that and refusing to accept the man Dick had grown up to be, differences of opinion and all....and so had started over with Jason.

And Dick saw exactly what Bruce was doing, cuz Bruce isn’t exactly subtle when it comes to his personal relationships and his emotional issues. So it pinged every single insecurity Dick had ever had, and HARD. And once Jason saw Bruce and Dick interacting and heard the nature of their arguments, he saw exactly what Bruce was doing, and began second-guessing every good thing about his and Bruce’s relationship, wondering (with validity) how much of it had happened while Bruce was wishing it’d happened with Dick. Which of course pinged every single insecurity Jason had ever had, and HARD.

So from the moment Dick and Jason met, with a few rare exceptions where they were able to see past the Bruce-sized elephant in the room and view and interact with each other on their own merits, as their own persons, and just be BROTHERS, rather than dysfunctional sons of the world’s most repressed dad....Bruce and Dick and Jason were all locked in this never-ending cycle of Hurt, Rinse and Repeat.

Bruce adopts Jason. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Bruce makes Jason his new Robin. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad, because Robin was his mom’s personal nickname for him and not remotely something Bruce was ever the right person to give away. To make Jason his new sidekick, sure. But not with that name, the name Dick chose to honor his relationship with his mother. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Bruce is happy when Jason calls him Dad and encourages it. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad, because Dick never felt encouraged or safe in calling Bruce Dad, even when he wanted to, because Bruce never encouraged it or even hinted it was what he wanted because Bruce was insecure and afraid Dick just didn’t view him that way and would never want to call him that. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Over and over and over, every single damn thing Bruce did just compounded the harm he caused both his sons in doing it. All because he refused to just admit what he really wanted all along, and actually WORK at making a reality - to be a father to both Dick and Jason, and have both of them view him as such.

And that’s the tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason. They all wanted THE EXACT SAME THING ALL ALONG. But only Bruce could make it happen. No matter how much Dick and Jason wanted it, no matter how they raged at each other and blamed each other for not having it, Bruce was always the only one who could actually make them the family they all wanted to be. Because he was the parent. He was their dad.

And if you want your kids to accept you and call you and love you as their dad, you gotta do the goddamn job. Instead of calling do-over every time you fuck it up.

So of course Jason felt threatened by Tim when he came back, and of course he resented Tim, and called Tim “the Replacement.” Even though Bruce hadn’t actually sought Tim out as a replacement for Jason, there was no way for Jason to know that and no reason for him to believe it when told it....because Bruce had done this all before. With him! Every time Jason lashed out at Tim with that name, it was his own insecurities talking, his conviction that he’d been relegated to the same backburner he’d once seen Bruce shove Dick to, that he’d once insecurely expressed smugness about, when he could point to Bruce’s open affections as proof he was loved, but now knew exactly how it felt. But it wasn’t like Jason could take comfort in the fact that Dick was now welcomed back in the manor, that he was at Bruce’s side again. Because Bruce STILL had never acknowledged where he’d fucked up. In the wake of Jason’s death, Bruce and Dick eventually repaired their relationship....but only because DICK did the work. Was the one to reach out and make it happen, with Bruce so grief-stricken over the loss of Jason he didn’t have the obstinacy to KEEP pushing his remaining son away when he came bearing an olive branch.

But even with that, Dick and Jason at least were still painfully aware that should never have been Dick’s job to do that. To step up, be the bigger man, the more mature adult, even though he was the child in that relationship. Dick did so because it wasn’t worth it to him to insist on being in the right, even though he was. He eventually decided he’d rather have Bruce in his life on Bruce’s terms than not at all. But it was never his responsibility to do that, and that means Jason was never in the wrong to refuse to do that. To make it easier for Bruce, and coddle his own father when every child of Bruce Wayne’s has just as much trauma as he ever did, and he has no excuse for not doing the goddamn work of pulling his head out of his ass and giving his children what they need from him. Some actual honest, sincere, and UNSHAKABLE certainty that no matter what, he is their father and always will be.

And without that, the cycle was always doomed to repeat itself. First with Jason and Tim...because Tim might not actually have been a replacement for Jason in Bruce’s eyes, the way he’d unintentionally ended up making Jason a replacement for Dick. But without Bruce ever actually owning up to the mistakes he’d made with his two eldest, there was no way to address the fact that Jason’s insecurities here were NOT baseless, that he had actual reason to worry that this is exactly what had happened. There was precedent.

And then it happened again. Because by the time Damian came into their lives, Tim - who also is not an idiot, and easily the most detective-like of Bruce’s first four sons - had been firmly entrenched in the family drama for some time. The Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason had for a few years now been the Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason and Tim. He, like Jason before him, had had a front row seat to Bruce’s obstinate refusal to admit his role at the center of this tragedy, and so clearly could see Bruce’s patterns and how his selective doling out of favoritism went hand in hand with who Bruce currently viewed as beyond repair, in terms of father-son dynamic at least.

So just like both his older brothers before him, Tim viewed the newest Wayne son as a threat, and a replacement. And just like both Dick and Jason, he wasn’t wrong to do so. He wasn’t RIGHT, either, but that doesn’t mean he was wrong. That his fears were baseless. And so this time, just like when Tim had been the newcomer, circumstances were different, but the end result was the same. Bruce hadn’t sought Damian out, and Damian hadn’t come to him in the same sense Tim had. But once there, Damian received the lion’s share of Bruce’s attention as Bruce attempted to forge a bond with him, and so this time, it was the transitive property in reverse. Tim saw Bruce behaving in the way Bruce always did when a new son came into his life and occupied his focus, with tunnel vision - because Bruce always defaults to tunnel vision when committing himself to a new endeavor - and Tim reverse-engineered from there the belief that he’d been replaced and thus must have done something wrong, had somehow been lacking. Because that’s the pattern in their family. Without exception.

(Among the boys at least, Cass always having been exempt from this fucked up little family tradition due to being the sole girl and never a Robin, thus occupying her own little niche that had no direct competition, unlike the boys who always ended up locked in that same competition Bruce had initiated with Dick and Jason so long ago.)

And thus it became the Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian. With again, always, the painful irony being every single damn member of this family wants nothing more than the exact same thing - to be a family, and equally secure in that knowledge.

I honestly don’t know how much this pattern has repeated with Duke, as due to not reading DC much since even before the nu52 for the sake of my blood pressure, all of my knowledge of Duke comes from fandom and fanfic. Which is more than enough to make me love him, but means I don’t feel comfortable including him in meta currently, because I don’t actually trust fanfics and issues synopses to have the same interpretation of the characters and dynamics that I’d have if I read them myself. (Seriously, I’m a little ticked off at how it took me like three years to learn that Duke’s a meta, even, which is extremely interesting information and something I was very interested in knowing, and am side-eyeing the hell out of a lot of fandom for how long this bit of NON TRIVIA took to show up on my radar. Like, its not exactly a small detail, if so many ppl leave that out like what the hell else is getting left out of fandom takes on Duke and his character and story? Ugh, I can’t believe I gotta start reading DC again, u guys let me down, why would u do this to me, ur the worst).

Anyway. Thought this was gonna be a little bitty post about how much Dick and Jason actually have in common and it ended up a Bruce Why Are You Like This essay. That actually sounds about right though.

The end!

(For now.....)

#batfamily meta #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce's kids deserve a bruce wayne who goes to therapy and actually learns stuff about himself

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