#as stated in my rules as well i am friends only for the most part

[simp-ly-writes]

Breaking Character

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Gentleman!Boyfriend!Spencer Agnew x gn!Partner!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You try your hardest to beat Gentleman Spencer at his own game of saying increasingly outlandish comments while trying to get him to break character!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social-media au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive themes, attempt at humour.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,736

─ · · A/N: Asks are closed for a little while but that you to this amazing ask was from an anon! 🫶

─────── · ·

"Hello all you lovely watchers behind the screen, now I would usually save such corse words for the bedroom but you all appear lucky at the games table tonight," you cast a smile and wink towards the camera. Adjusting your wig before taking a drag out of your long fake cigarette. Your goal today was to get your boyfriend, Spencer, to break Character today in a video.

"As you can see, I am joined by a handful of my friends, especially this special friend beside me, remind me of your name again, dear?" you ask with a slight tilt to your head as you eye Spencer form his top hat down to his suspenders.

Spencer tries to hold your look before breaking under your stare, instead turning his back to you and turning fully towards the camera. "Good-day to you all, I am a gentleman here to play quite the crass game. Monopoly: Cheaters Addition, now I believe my wife would have something to say about this, but I wouldn't remember the names of any of them!"

"Ah'll tell ya what, mister, you're staring to sound like my fifth husband, couldn't remember my name while spending quality time with me inside the room nor outside. Now that I think about it, I can't seem to remember his name... maybe I should start to remember yours, m'sure a man like you would like that~" you tease yet keep to your chair observing as Spencer rolls his shoulders and turns to face you head on in character. By the wild look in his eyes, you can tell you are getting to him and by the end of this, you would be sure to hold him in the palm of your hand (in character of course!).

Disregarding your later statement, Gentleman Spencer clears his throat before replying, "And what type of man is your fifth husband, dashing and a rich-lad I would presume for something as gorgeous as you?"

You giggle to his words, hand reaching over the table to pick your piece, "Well, how am I s'possed to know? I'm only on my fourth but I'm sure he'll be out of the picture soon. I like to think I ran him dry in more ways than one-" Spencer begins coughing again before leaning down to erupt in laughter as does the rest of the cast and crew.

"Well, If yee two are done fucking around, It is time to introduce I- Thee masterful wizard thee-self, me" Shayne introduces his character, pointed a crocked finger and eye between the two of you. You shrug, taking a drag of your cigarette.

"Do tell me dear when it is my turn next, you see games of strategy are not for people like me- right?" you coyly state to Spencer who nods his head, still not ready to go back in character as you can see him taking in deep breathes to keep himself form falling into another pit of laughter and all you can do is smile, wiggling your eyebrows for all of that to go to hell.

"And it appears that the most intelligent always wait to go last. Names Tinky-Winky and I'm here to win. Should be easy with the table we have here tough-" Amanda tries to get the game moving before you put in one last jab.

"I wouldn't be to sure about that, what did you say, Rinky-Pinky?-?

"Tinky-Winky," Amanda clarifies with an eye-roll that you match with more exaggeration "Yes, tink-wink, whatever you're called just know that I will enjoy watching you all lose."

"Whatever you say, mobster," Amanda quips before quickly going over the rules as you place your head in your hands, blowing the hair out of your face.

─────── · ·

As the game progressed into the early stages, whatever civilized conversation you all tried to ensure at the start of the game was out the window, now full-blow yelling and screaming at one another as even the staff backed away, watching as the chaos exploded through the room and you all reverted fully into character.

"HEY! You just cheated!" Tinky-Winky Amanda screamed out to you, pointing their purple-gloved mitt in your face.

"Cheated?" You faked innocence, batting your eyelashes while speaking in a high pitched tone, "I would never cheat, thats something I save for me and my husbands!" you retort, now also standing up from your seat, hands gripping the table as you lena forwards to exaggerate your point before Spencer is pulling you back down to the table.

"Now I just don't like anyone putting their hands on my without me sayin' nothin' but I do like the feel of your hands, keep me grounded would ya? I'm forgetting my manners here with this lad," you mumble to the Gentleman beside you as he blushed bright red before starting to pull his hand away, coughing and choking on a reply only for you to hold in hand in position on your arm with a wink before returning your stolen money back to the bank and starting the new round.

"Penguin man! You seem a strange and pathetic fellow..." you off-handedly comment towards Spencer as Amanda takes her turn.

"Well yes, it comes from-" Spencer begins to speak before you continue your sentence.

"...I like that in a man," your voice drops to a sultry tone, head leaning against his arm enjoying the way Spencer sputters into nervous laughter and grips your hand.

─────── · ·

You noticed just how close Spencer had come multiple times during the filming but he had yet to call for a break, you were so sure of it at the start but had yet to get back to that point besides a few blushes and loaded looks your way but you stayed determined nevertheless.

Taking a long drag from your cigarette, you imagined it casting a hard cloud around and past Spencer head as you watched him take his turn, awaiting yours next. "Remember to win," you quiped with a sarcastic tone.

"I'll keep that in mind, dear. Now do be one and let this man concentrate," he replied with a playful glare in your direction before getting a snake-eyes that would nearly bankrupt the gentleman when landing on the dumpster wizards Shayne's hotel. "Fuck!" Spencer swore, tossing his top hat behind himself in outrage.

"I think the man needs to concentrate even more, I could help you~" you tease, picking up the top hat and placing it gently back on his head. Spencer only shakes his head once the hat is firmly back on. "I'm sure my mistresses are better-suited for such works, whatever would your husband think?"

"So outrageous of you to think my husband would do the thinking..." you mumble before picking up the dice in your hand and extending your palm with them towards Spencer. "Blow on these here die would ya, doll?" you ask as Shayne yells over the table, currently in a headlock from Tinky-Winky. "I thought it was custom to get the working women to blow your dice!?"

"Well he might be no dame but you're a dime in my eyes doll," you throw back without missing a beat.

"Ah-well. I may have a dime in my money bin! They make for a leisurely swim-" the Gentlemen comes into conversation as you are quick again to come to a response, "Would ya take me for a dip sometime then? I would love to see what else ya bring to the table?"

Spencer blinks, not wanting to look you into the eyes just yet and talks towards Amanda, "You know, I really can't say for certain, but do you think it's possible they're in it for the money and not my shining personality or physical connection?

And you do not allow time for Amanda to get a word in, knowing that now more than ever will get Spencer to crack his character, "It's not the money that I have my eyes on, sugar. I heard a little something about aerodynamics and clothes that I'm looking to test, and that test seems definitely responsive..." you end with a smirk watching as Spencer stands and turns around to face the wall.

"OKAY! OKAY!" Spencer admits to defeat as you stand up and cheer, running to hug him from behind as you both sway back and forth. "I made you loose character~" you sing-song.

"Yeah, yeah you did. Good job, lovely," Spencer groans before you both are told to re-take your seats and finish the game properly. To everyone surprise the Dumpster Wizard Shayne somehow ended up winning by pulling a Angela and stealing all the money as you were celebrating your boyfriends defeat in good fun.

"There is no way you could have won, I demand a recount!" you announce, throwing all your bills to the table. "And here I thought you weren't in it for the money," Spencer teases back. "Shut up, its only an added bonus," you snakily reply only to ultimately accept your defeat.

"Well, thank you all for sitting through this shit-show. We hope you join us again-" you begin to outro. "But not again for this exactly," Spencer cuts you off and clarify as the video fades to black by the sound of all your combined laughter flooding the studio once again.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Cheaters Monopoly!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 32k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 109k views 5 days ago only the politest of games... click to read more

998 Comments

username01 Spencer really out here acting all hot and flustered- simply adorable!

username43 The group of characters I never knew I needed, all we were missing was Chosen!Trevor and Angela to really round out the chaos of this episode!

username88 So in love with this Monopoly: Cheaters Edition- I never want it to end!!

username21 so... gentlemen's Just Dance when?

↳ username46 OMG YESSS, THIS HAS TO BE MADE A THING!!

username03 i love how determined (name) was to get Spencer to break character and how good he took it!

username94 really love how (name) was the one to make all of Spencers outrageous comments appear like the normal ones in comparison to theirs.

username77 Wait so i'm confused, im a new smosh fan and are these actors acting like they're dating or are they already together????

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala

[greenfiend]

Deducing what may have actually happened to Will Byers on Nov 6, 1983 using evidence from the show.

Trigger warning: M*rder, s*icide.

part 2. part 3.

Before I begin, I just want to remind everyone that this show has many layers to it. What I mean is, if you watch carefully, a piece of dialogue can actually mean two (or more) things. The dialogue can be meaningful for the specific scene (surface level) and it can be a sneaky way to foreshadow something else entirely (subtext).

From this specific moment, we can assume that moving forward: any and all mentions of JFK’s assassination will actually be about Will’s disappearance (subtext).

So when the writers gifted us with these mentions, they are actually referring to the conspiracy surrounding Will’s disappearance. So let’s investigate, shall we?

Here’s the briefest overview of the JFK assassination: Oswald was convicted of assassinating JFK. Oswald denied his involvement stating that he was “a patsy”. Many conspiracy theories believe that Johnson was actually the one responsible.

Both Mrs. Driscoll and Dustin do not believe that Oswald assassinated JFK. Mrs. Driscoll is an outcast; she’s an older woman with schizophrenia. The guys who work at the newspaper are quick to dismiss her for these reasons. Now remember, this is Stranger Things, the show about outcasts being right and those fitting the norm being wrong. Then there’s our beloved Dustin, who states that “Oswald was a patsy”. Thus we can conclude: Johnson assassinated JFK, and Oswald was a patsy.

So… who if Will is JFK in this equation, who are our “Johnson” and “Oswald” counterparts?

Well right now, I assume most people believe Vecna is responsible for Will’s disappearance. He is our “bad guy”. So my guess is that he is our “Oswald”.

Who is our “Johnson”? Now remember, Johnson was someone close to JFK, he was the vice-president. He had something to gain in this. I believe Lonnie fits the bill the most for our Johnson.

So many clues surround Lonnie that tell us he was actually responsible. Plus, remember, he has something to gain from Will’s death: life insurance.

Though to be far, I am definitely not ruling out Brenner and Hawkins lab being involved in this too.

So… what happened exactly then? I’m not certain but this is my theory:

Lonnie was prepared to kill Will that night, but his plans were thwarted by our “Oswald”. Vecna swooped in and saved Will from his fate. His “come with me if you want to live” moment.

Moving further into the theory territory… here is a prediction:

- Our characters believe that the only way to defeat Vecna is to travel back in time and “stop him”.

- They travel back, stop him, then return finding out that the alternate present is much worse. By this I mean: Will was murdered, Mike ended his life by suicide, Joyce got admitted to Pennhurst Asylum, Jonathan was struggling with addiction, Lonnie got his payout, etc.

- Thus realizing that “killing” Vecna is and never was the solution here.

Now you may be thinking: but Vecna is 100% evil, why are you trying to redeem him? Well, the thing is, he’s not. Vecna is a villain but he’s not 100% evil. The show isn’t that simple friends. Plus, remember, nothing is exactly as it seems in this show.

[alexlwrites]

As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!

This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!

As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!

Anywho! Enjoy!

----

Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.

Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.

And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.

"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"

Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...

"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"

"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.

Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.

Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"

"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"

Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.

They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.

Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?

Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...

Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.

Oh.

Oh.

You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.

Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!

You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."

Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:

-accelerated heart beat

-exaggerated hand sweating

-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case

-ill timed boners

And, the most common one:

-praise kink

Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.

If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.

Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.

Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad.  Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...

Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!

Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.

The betrayal? The bro-trayal?

Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

[dreamofjoys]

𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓 ！

♡ A/N: Hello to everyone! I am excited to announce that I will be participating in kinktober 2023! This is my second time participating, so Im quite excited for it. There's a lot for me to write so I seek your understanding that I might not post them on the day itself (school is starting mid october eek but I will try and get it done). Last year's kinktober was focused solely on twisted wonderland but this year there will be other fandoms as well, and it will also be more plot focused? Hopefully that makes it more interesting. Only posting on some days

♡ Brief C/W: Dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, pregnancy, double penetration, stalking and many more (will update as it goes by but will state in more details at the start of each fic). Everything is strictly character x fem/afab readers only

♡ General rules: Minors DO NOT INTERACT, No mean or rude comments (why read when I already stated the warnings and synopsis?Just block if don't like or uncomfy) and lastly, DO NOT ASK FOR PART 2.

♡ Participating fandoms: Genshin Impact (Neuvilette, Wriothlesley, Zhongli, Ayato, Alhaitham), Honkai Star Rail (Luo Cha, Jing Yuan, Blade, Nanook, Dan Heng, Dan Feng), Twisted Wonderland (Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Leona Kingscholar)

♡ P/S: Everything is subjected to changes! Some fics are still in progress of brainstorming.. you can try to req and I'll see if I want to take up the idea. Just putting out the masterlist early to test and see how things go. Might make some changes here and there but it honestly just depends on my situation and mood. Also teasing you guys and adding some sneak peaks lol (I genuinely hope it's good) You can literally guess who will be in the fic base on the title. Will only open taglist if there's a demand.

DREAMOFJOYS KINKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION

DAY 1-7 ; 7 minute in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

— Characters involved: Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR) — Synopsis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it? — Story parts: 1 / 2 /3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Day 9-11 ; The Demons of Xianzhou

— Characters involved: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Feng (HSR) — Synopsis: There has been a legend of demons existing and residing in Xianzhou for a long period of time. Surely, they can't be one of your closest friends, right?

Day 13-15 ; In the name of Justice

— Characters involved: Neuvilette, Wriothelesly (Genshin) — Synopsis: Two of the most well known men in fontaine has fallen head over heels for you. They claim that everything that they do is for the sake of justice

Day 18-19 ; Egg Incubator

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: A young maiden was chosen by her village and was sacrificed as an offering to appease the 5 dragon gods who were terrorizing their land. She plots to escape from them, but can she really succeed?

Day 20 ; The General's Slave

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 23-24 ; The Princes's Sin

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 25 ; The Acting Grand Sage's Filthy Secret

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 26 ; The Destruction of Nanook

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 29-31 ; Briar Valley's Eternal Ruler

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

[morehousebites]

Quotes as House MD

Random shit my friends have said as House MD

for contex, I'm in training to get my Medical Assistant certification and most of my friends are also in/going into the medical field

House:

My mysteries are falling out

Can't a mortal want for death?

That's assault. Don't make me elevate it to battery

No no, don't be embarrassed, you all did bad

I'm going to Hell AND I have to pay with quarters? This is the worst day ever!

It's only like the fourth gayest sport. Behind football, chess, and competitive pole dancing

Either kill yourself or get over it

Don't touch these without gloves, they will irritate your tits

Well y'know, some people come out of the closet, [Chase] goes into the closet

I only let my [fellows] teethe on them occasionally. They're mostly slobber-free

Am I not writing right now? With my words? Like a poet?

You're a sick degenerate fuck! I like you

OSHA is for pussies

I can hurt you and then it will have to be my fault

I'm American I'm entitled to piss where I want

Happy erection day. Your penis hard?

I LOVE bullying children

Sorry ladies, this cock is all mine

It's not abuse if they're living. That's why you kill them first

Chase:

Being lesbian is masochist (referring to Thirteen)

As the youth are fond of saying these days: dope, sick nasty.

I'm a cunt not a whore

He's fat, he needs a vasectomy

She's 14, her uterus is gonna wither up

My dad has a PhD in Jesus

I don't even have a thought process

Ow, don't hit me, you're ugly

The part I'm confused on.... Is all of it?

Victim blaming, it's the right thing to do

Ketchup is such a good moisturizer

Aw man that sucked ass, I guess I'll just die hairy

No sin here, move along

Cameron:

I'm not a lesbian, stay away from me

Numbers, organs, same thing. What am I, a doctor? A medical student?

Not gonna lie I kinda like heroin

Them's the house rules, and I'm the coolest bitch

Wow she's pretty! Oh she's dying

Do you not want to smoke weed on the bus to the hospital?

Not even in a sexual way just vulvas are dope

Shawty is a state of mind

Honey no one wants your organs

Alright I'm gonna go finish my work and disappoint [House]

They can't know I'm a freak YET

Supportive parents? In this economy?

I can't cry cause the makeup's too slay

Whoever said laughter is the best medicine was a man

Gravity is a bitch sometimes

Pleasure myself, weep, and repeat

If I had a dollar for every time someone has told me that, I could actually afford therapy

This is pirated, by the way

I've got my own knives: they're called fingers and I swear to god if he talks to me again they are going in his eyes

Foreman:

I'm no one's babygirl, I'm someone's baby MAN

I can ethically own him in the free market space of debate

You think you have rights here? This is [the hospital]

You're taking a speed bump at 5 miles an hour, I'm gonna actually enjoy my life

There is no opinions on the gays

You spilled spaghetti on the church?! (directed at Chase)

That's not a hehe moment

Do any of you... Hear in the ears?

Infidelity ain't lookin so good right now

I'd be full of shit if I told you I knew the answer all the time

I sympathize with you but you're making funny noises

THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME AND I SLITHERED THROUGH THE WINDOW?!

Don't antagonize drunk old men who hate you

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHARACTER LINES ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, somewhat a character study, elation!sampo

— word count: 4.6k (oh my god i am insane. he makes me insane)

— overview: (as of 2.4) an analysis of sampo’s character dialogue outside of quests!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ INTRO ⌝

I’m putting this here because I wasn’t sure where else to put it, I just wanted to point out that his character intro describes him as someone who “travels freely” between two places (in this case, the Overworld and Underworld, but could also apply to multiple states of being) as well as saying he “acts” like he is everyone’s friend (performance) and is “enthusiastically humorous” (very similar to “infectious enthusiasm”). Being good at bantering also seems very Elation-aligned. That’s all!

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ FIRST MEETING ⌝

Each character’s “first meeting” line is arguably one of their most important lines. Not only does it give you a baseline introduction to them and their personality, but it shows you how they present themselves to others (i.e. the aspects of themselves they choose to consciously, or unconsciously, emphasize when meeting someone). For Sampo, this includes all of the “perks” that come with knowing him. Business, chaperoning, conversation — these are all part of a “deal” to him, a transaction of knowing and being known.

I haven’t talked about this much in my previous analyses, but Sampo has a very specific mindset of viewing friendship as a commodity. This could easily be chalked up to his idea of business and transaction rubbing off on other parts of his life, but given the strange emphasis he places on “being friends” throughout his dialogue, I’m suspicious it might be more than that. It seems he either isn’t willing to or isn’t capable of seeing genuine human connection as any more than another deal, another façade to do business with. It may be his way of keeping people at arm’s length, or perhaps the Elation won’t let him view people as anything more than another joke, another transaction of language and Laughter to make at another’s expense. Whatever the case, he seems dead-set on including “friendship” in his package deal when doing business.

I also find it interesting how he isn’t wrong. For someone who has a penchant for distorting the truth on a whim, Sampo is, in fact, a “chaperone” and “problem-solving conversationalist.” (“Businessman” is a given, we all know how well that’s going for him given that he literally has an idle where he counts his big stacks of money.) Despite not really having to, Sampo goes out of his way on Penacony to take the Trailblazer around and show us the dream bubble — even if it’s not a “traditional” chaperone role, it’s clear he was trying to look out for us in his own way (same thing on Belobog with the smoke bombs). Additionally, he’s very adept at solving problems by sheer virtue of talking, as shown by being the archetype that��s able to talk himself out of a myriad of situations. So at the end of the day, I guess I’d have to agree with him: it is a pretty sweet deal.

However, arguably the most intriguing thing about this line is the meta aspect of it — the big picture of his selling point being multiple things ��rolled into one.” I don’t want to read too much into it, but I can’t help but wonder if this “three-in-one” phrase refers to more than just his skills. After all, if a running theme of his character is being a businessman and a chaperone and a problem-solving conversationalist, who’s to say it doesn’t apply to him being a Masked Fool and an Emanator and an Aeon (or a part of one, or a creation of one, or an avatar of one — honestly, at this point I feel like we can mix and match). At the very least, it would match up with the rule of three. Food for thought!

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ GREETING & PARTING ⌝

The greeting here seems pretty standard — going into it assuming he’ll get paid, then waffling and thinking about backing out when he realizes he won’t. What’s notable here, however, is that he covers it up by stumbling out a “Not a problem!” and continuing on with us. I feel like this partially shows how much he values friendship (despite clearly still wanting a payout) while also not quite having enough spine to straight up say “no” to us. The only thing I’m not sure about is if the Trailblazer is special in this regard, or if Sampo would keep going with anyone else.

The parting is a bit more notable, especially the idea of “I’m not going anywhere.” It seems half-comforting, half-threat, like he’ll always be a constant in our lives, for better or for worse. In a way, he may be like a never-ending joke we just can’t get rid of no matter how hard we try. (Don’t worry Sampo, I would never think of getting rid of you 😌.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SELF ⌝

This line, despite at first seeming like a joke, feels more personal the longer it goes on. The first “I’m an easygoing fella” seems like exactly the kind of thing a shady businessman would say when trying to drum up clients: “I’m personable,” “I look out for people,” “I’m a community man,” etc. However, by the time the line ends, it very much sounds like he’s referring to something specific. The idea of getting “pulled into everyone else’s business with nothing to show for it” sounds like a passive aggressive dig at something or someone we don’t have the specifics for. Especially with the “tsk” at the end and the repetition of “easygoing,” it almost seems like he’s trying to vent his frustration about being constantly pulled into things he doesn’t want to be a part of.

Now that we know he’s an “old timer” within the Masked Fools, this line of thinking makes sense — he’s left behind his mask, meaning he may have gotten tired and fed up with getting roped into the Fools’ shenanigans. With how exasperated he sounds in much of his Penacony dialogue, I’m not surprised he said something like this.

Going a step further, this could even apply to an Emanator being burnt out at having to deal with the Elation, or even Aha Themself feeling the constraints of a compulsory existence. I feel like Emanator or Silhouette theories would work better for this particular line, although it’s possible that Aha could achieve this level of genuine exasperation through split/dual/separate consciousness.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHAT: INTEL ⌝

Once again, Sampo shows how smart he is. He may be shady, yes, but he does know how to “maximize profit.” After hearing of Boothill’s run in with an Elation Emanator in 2.2, I can’t help but wonder if it was Sampo playing into this idea of selling information to multiple people — I definitely don’t think Boothill learning of the Emanator’s status was a coincidence, even if he says it was because he got it drunk. To me, this definitely reads as Sampo parceling out information in the right doses to the right people, “packaging” it in such a way that that person is none the wiser.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ HOBBIES, ANNOYANCES, & SOMETHING TO SHARE ⌝

Despite only being one line, “hobbies” sticks out to me as a potential revelation. First, there’s no mention of the passion or creativity often associated with hobbies, it’s just him stating what he believes — there’s no indication he actually enjoys it deep down (compulsory existence mayhaps). Secondly, “small talk brings big clients” shows how he focuses on the details and minutiae of the larger picture; he may not be one for flashy entrances like Sparkle (hell, his big entrance in Belobog was when he was literally surrounded by smoke) but he does know how to manipulate the odds to be in his favor. I also find “big clients” interesting. While it could just be a reference to his dealings on Belobog, I can’t help but wonder just how far this might extend. What kind of “big clients” has he brought in? Is he neglecting to mention that he’s a “big client” himself? Is he used to shmoozing in the big leagues? Only time will tell.

In comparison, the annoyance line is fairly standard. It’s a link to his shady side, the idea that he’s just a poor businessman, *sniffle,* and how could someone be so mean to such a nice fella? He’s operating in technicalities here, full well knowing why he’s considered a con-man but intentionally being obtuse about it. It is very endearing to me.

“Something to share” almost seems Robin-Hood-esque. At first, I thought he was talking about more “business” stuff, the idea of “sharing is caring, so you should share your money with me,” but the more I re-read the more I realized he’s probably getting at the wealth inequality in Belobog. He’s technically affiliated with the Underworld, after all, and his closest friends seem to be there too. Behind the fixation on profit and only doing things if it benefits him materially, there seems to also be a genuine want to share himself, to “make up the shortfall.” Even if the “sharing” isn’t coming from his own possessions, he still wants to get the Underworld the supplies and means to live comfortably, which is a surprisingly sweet sentiment. He has a heart in there, I swear.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ KNOWLEDGE ⌝

I feel like this line speaks for itself — the man is omniscient and he is toying with us. He knows way more than he’s letting on, even referencing the Astral Express as a “train” for shits and giggles. Your Elation is showing, king.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SVAROG & CLARA ⌝

I don’t know what’s funnier: the implication that Sampo has tried to strike a deal with Svarog before, or the implication that he, Sampo “I can talk my way into and out of anything” Koski, failed. He was probably aware his conversationalism wouldn’t work on a machine like Svarog, but damn if he didn’t want to try anyways. I would pay good money to see that go down. Too bad Sampo exists in another universe and can’t haggle it out of me.

Alternatively, his line about Clara is pretty sweet. Referring to her as “our little girl” shows how he views himself as part of the Underworld — even if he came from beyond the sky, even if he integrated himself into Belobog for a larger purpose, he still cares. He sees himself as one of them. Behind the gaud and the glamor, we can begin to see that silhouette, that want for connection in the periphery, staying in the shadows because it’s afraid to step into the light. Yet, despite him even realizing it, he’s begun to integrate himself. Begun to see himself as more than just a means to an end, an instigator or a jokester or a clown. He has, in a sense, become part of the collective — a healthy collective, one big found family, and Clara is just one part of it. Beyond his knowing, he’s gone from “I” and “them” to “us.” To “we.” To “our.” (And he is also still eternally confused over how the hell to communicate with Svarog.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT NATASHA ⌝

I like how naturally he describes the progression of their relationship here. While it may not be entirely truthful or accurate (who knows with Sampo), it at least seems like he views his and Natasha’s friendship as an easy progression from one stage to the next. Despite it being transactional, it doesn’t really feel like a transaction, just an evolution of something whose seeds were already planted. It’s also notable that he started with medicine — not intel, not materialistic wealth like relics or Shield, but medicine. His first establishing relationship with Natasha was literally bringing her life-saving medicine. It really reminds me of how he saved the Trailblazer’s life in The Moles’ hide-and-seek daily mission; it’s the things he does in the shadows that really count, really show that he does, in fact, care. Despite what he tells you, he still wants to help. “You know how these things work” is also so funny because it’s like… no, no the Trailbalzer does not know how these things work. (Also, “arrived” in the Underworld? Interesting word choice, bestie.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SEELE ⌝

I just think it’s really funny to imagine Sampo, either an Emanator or an Aeon or both, being constantly told off by some resistance fighter on a random snow planet. Like, Seele is really out here doing what 99% of beings can’t. (With Doll Theory, however, this is a bit… heartbreaking, especially “Can someone explain what I did to deserve her?” potentially hiding the deeper, more agonizing question of “Can someone explain what I did to deserve this?”. But I am choosing not to think about that right now for my own sanity.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT BRONYA ⌝

He really has no self-preservation when it comes to scoring big, does he? Despite how carefully methodical his endgame plans seem to be, his omniscience doesn’t stop him from throwing himself out there when he feels there’s something to be gained. It’s okay, Sampo, she’s nice. You don’t need to risk getting beat up just to talk to her, I’m sure you can arrange a meeting. (Also, I feel like this mirrors his “painful introduction” to the Trailbalzer at the beginning of the Belobog storyline — sure, Sampo had to put up with Dan Heng’s prodding and Gepard’s arrival, but he made the biggest score of all: getting to meet us. So, maybe it’s not just “throwing himself out there.” Maybe it’s all one big calculation on his part.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT THE LANDAUS ⌝

Gepard potentially triggering Sampo’s Elation instincts is hilarious to me. I’ll expand on it in a dedicated Sampard post, but it’s so in line with the Elation for Sampo, most likely a god in his own right, to find such catharsis in, what? Being chased around in the snow by a hot blonde guard? In terms of the wider universe, Gepard is literally just some guy. And yet here Sampo is, doing a little heehee haha and having the time of his life. It’s the little things, you know?

(On a more serious note, if we’re dealing with a Sampo who’s constantly felt like he has no control over his “enjoyment” of Elation — even a Silhouette or Doll Theory Sampo who is actively being harmed by “the joke” — then him gradually warming up to Gepard is surprisingly wholesome. Here he is, someone who has always found himself subject to Elation rather than naturally falling into it, finding a way to reclaim that enjoyment and find a genuine place for it within himself. Some sort of reconciliation, perhaps, a bit of happiness that’s his own and no one else’s, some part of a situation that he can control. The elation he feels here is not Elation, but rather a genuine feeling of connection, one not brought on suddenly by the punchline of a joke, but one that has gradually grown over time, matured, blossomed into something warm and real and comforting. Gepard has no idea, but he’s slowly mellowing out the “compulsory” of compulsory existence until it becomes nothing but a fading whisper. Anyways can you tell I love Sampard?)

I’m also interested in how Serval and Sampo used to be “good pals.” While Sampo’s idea of a “good pal” could be wildly off-base from what Serval experienced — with the likelihood that Sampo’s “we were besties” was Serval’s “he was an annoying guy who kept asking me for deals” — it makes sense to me that they might’ve gotten along at some point. Serval is a fairly casual and accepting person, so I could see her and Sampo being friends (although I don’t think she would have fallen for many of his scams). However, I definitely don’t think she’d agree with Sampo’s shady business dealings, so finding out from Gepard just how much of a criminal he is would definitely sour things. She would believe in giving the Underworlders the resources they need, for sure, but definitely not Sampo pocketing money for himself or scamming random people who’ve done nothing wrong. “Gepard’s bad word” probably wasn’t even that malicious, just a statement of fact.

(I, however, like to think that Gepard opened up about his crush on Sampo to Serval and her protective older sister genes kicked in. What Sampo is really registering is the change from “oh, you’re a chill guy” to “if you hurt my baby brother so help me god I will end your entire existence.” It is canon in my heart.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT LUKA ⌝

This one is another tie-in to Sampo’s fixation on business and profit. I do wonder why and how Sampo missed out on making money here, though. Perhaps the timing was off, or he had bigger things to deal with, or Luka just didn’t want to work with him for whatever reason. Either way, it’s kinda funny that he knows Luka as “that kid I could’ve made money off of but didn’t”. I can just see him hanging his head dejectedly in my mind. It’s okay, Sampo, you’ll get ‘em next time.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SPARKLE ⌝

Sparkle is a unique case, being the only other playable Masked Fool and having a direct connection with Sampo through the organization. He seems to have a pretty good read on her, which would make sense if his status as an “old timer” includes having a lot of experience dealing with specific members of the Fools. He’s basically reading her like a book, saying: She’s all over the place, and you never have anything truly figured out. There’s also the meta commentary of “outwit herself,” referencing the events of Black Swan’s companion quest and an Inception-like folding in of all her personas. It also seems like it might be a bit of a projection: “Think you’ve got her all figured out, don’t you?” I didn’t say anything Sampo, but if this “you” is in the room with us right now, it’s okay, you can just say it. Perhaps he tried to understand her at some point in the past and it fucked him over. (Just speculation!)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ASCENSION & ACTIVATION ⌝

Whoo boy, this eidolon activation. It’s definitely suspicious, to say the least. There’s a reason I chose it as my quote for my Elation!Sampo masterlist, and that’s because it encapsulates so much about his potential identity. There’s the fact he’s not being direct about it, phrasing it as a question where he speaks in second person, trailing off at the end; even now, he seems unwilling or unable to face the truth with his full chest. There’s also the phrase “colorful past,” which just makes me ask: How much of a colorful past are we talking? This could range anywhere from Masked Fools shenanigans to “oh yeah, I used to be an Aeon.” The fact he’s so indirect about it makes me more suspicious — it’s an extremely leading question, very smug and taunting, which makes my mind just go up and up and up the power scale list, much like “old timer” caused me to do the same. There’s just a quality to this line that basically screams, “There is something large and powerful and dormant inside of him! Be careful!”.

The ascension once again links back to money, and his trace activation is about the transactional “business” of friendship. The last notable thing here is his “max level reached,” where he expresses disappointment over… hitting max level? “That’s it? *sigh* I was just getting started,” is not the kind of thing even a regular Masked Fool would say. Again, we’re given a hint of almost incomprehensible power, the idea that the limit of the game, of the universe, isn’t enough for him. In a strikingly eldritch way, our “max” is simply a small drop in his bucket, an ant he barely even notices. He really isn’t beating the Elation allegations, is he?

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ TEAMS ⌝

Since there’s five different ones here, I’ll go through them fairly quickly:

Natasha — Reminds me of Natasha’s own voiceline where she says Sampo doesn’t like owing people things. It shows that he really does try to pay favors back as soon as possible, keeping them present in his mind so they don’t go unresolved for too long.

Hook — It’s interesting how he reacts to her in a similar way he does the Masked Fools: exasperation, but still a little fond. There’s some care, some nostalgia mixed in there, but at the end of the day he still knows that something is getting blown to smithereens.

Seele — On his best behavior. He really doesn’t want her to get angry at him, does he? 

Trailblazer — Interesting how he laughs at the beginning here. Interesting how he says, “Ha!” Interesting how this is only with the Trailblazer. Hm. That is all.

Sparkle — “Same rule as always” establishes a long-form relationship; it’s likely they’ve known each other for a long time, or at least long enough to have established “rules” for each time they fight or work together. The fact that the rule is “no backstabbing” is also fitting, seeing as Sparkle (and by proxy, the Masked Fools) are definitely the type to backstab at any given moment. The real question is: Is this rule simply a surface-level attempt by Sampo to stop from getting messed with, or does Sparkle actually listen to him?

It also sets up Sampo as at least pretending to be on the same power level as Sparkle — he’s in a position where he feels the need to be wary and on-guard around her despite occupying a potentially higher status.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ COMBAT & MISC. ⌝

Reading through these, I just felt like I was getting smacked over the head with theories. It’s like he was repeatedly hitting me on the back of the head with a baseball bat or something. Having each line side by side really makes certain patterns become apparent. Since there’s so many, I’ll go through them fairly quickly (feel free to ask me to expand on any of these if you want!):

Battle Begins: Weakness Break: “Fun” links to Elation. “Just” is downplaying the severity of a Weakness Break, reducing pain/danger to yet another joke. A somewhat callous view of life, similar to the Worm Fiasco.

Battle Begins: Danger Alert: Endless pursuit of entertainment and Elation — “the stronger the better.” Like Aha, it’s less about winning or losing, but rather the challenge and thrill of the fight itself.

Turn Begins: Line 1 — The idea of “friends” again, showing physical protection and aid to be part of the “transaction”; however “takes care of” seems less transactional and more genuine. Line 2 — More transactional with the idea of “business”; perhaps refers to violence as “doing business” with enemies, or helping the trailblazer as “doing business.”

Turn Idling: “Bring out” and “big guns” links to hidden or increased power, something that needs to be revealed. Since this is his turn idle, it gives the implication that he is “waiting” to bring out this power until the right time (though he is impatient about it).

Skill: Argument One — Silly goofy behavior. Argument Two (Delusional) — “Size” alludes to the physical changing of size between mortal and Emanator/Aeonic form.

Hit by Light Attack: Seems somewhat performative.

Hit by Heavy Attack: Seems to be overly protective of his “face” — or rather, the potential physical facade he puts up to hide his true identity from others. Doll Sampo may be overly concerned with “breaking,” while other theories may be worried about something being “revealed” if too much of his physical form is chipped away. (In a way, the avatar of “Sampo Koski” may be a mask in and of itself, able to be broken.)

Ultimate: Activate: Again with the idea of “waiting,” man is impatient.

Ultimate: Unleash: If we’re going with an Elation!Sampo theory, it seems like he may almost be alluding to Aha as “king” here, which would center themes of betrayal and switching sides. It doesn’t seem personal in this case, but rather a power/money/profit-oriented standpoint.

Downed: *Puts on tinfoil hat* Sampo could actually be referencing a “loophole payment” here; as shown in the Curio Hacker Occurrence, one of the curios given to us by the blue-haired man is “Organic Heart,” a curio that removes the golden (powerful) dice face for four turns, destroys itself, then grants two cheat attempts — if we take this as an allegory for Sampo’s existence, then he may be paying a “price” as an Emanator or Aeon to escape an unfortunate fate later on (or accomplish something impossible). In this way, “This price was too steep…” may refer to Sampo being trapped in mortal form (a more vulnerable state) and realizing the “price” he paid upfront for those cheat attempts isn’t worth it if he never gets to see the fruits of his labor.

Return to Battle: This may also link to the Curio Hacker dice faces, as a combat “turn” could also stand-in for a dice “roll” — he has been brought back to fight, and so he will continue to participate in the cycle until his cheat attempts are granted. (Also, it links to the cyclical nature of the snakes, going from one turn to the next, never able to truly die.)

Health Recovery: Another mention of transactions, debt, and “owing” — according to Natasha’s voice line about him, this is not a phrase he says lightly.

Technique: Laughter, plan and simple. The Laugher, even, if we’re feeling frisky.

Battle Won: Probably one of the biggest clues in his voicelines. “How’re you gonna win if you don’t take any risks?” directly implies a “risk” at the core of his being, some dangerous change he is making to make sure he gets what he wants. May somewhat detract from Aha theories in that Aha doesn’t seem to care about “winning,” however who knows if that mindset has changed or if Sampo simply thinks that because he is currently in mortal form. Either way, it once again links to him paying a “cost” for those later cheat attempts.

Treasure Opening 1: Good old cash reference.

Treasure Opening 2: Kinda sweet that he lets us keep it, even though it’s only because he doesn’t have any use for it.

Precious Treasure Opening: … And of course he immediately shoves us aside when it’s something he’s actually interested in.

Successful Puzzle-Solving: 1: Pretty generic.

Successful Puzzle-Solving 2: Reference to his businessman persona and how he’s made a career out of “solving others’ problems.” It may be that he’s trying to solve a problem for either himself or Aha as an outside entity (or perhaps even a different Aeon of Emanator, who knows).

Enemy Target Found: Sounds almost taunting; there’s no vocal recording in this post, but if you listen to his English voice acting it sounds goading, almost like he’s daring you to start the fight. “I dunno” is a bit more reserved, like he’s hesitating a bit, but I’m definitely on the side of “he can handle this, he’s just fucking with us.”

Returning to Town: Another third person reference! Obligatory business reference.

And whew, that’s all of it! Every single Sampo character screen voice line as of 2.4! My main takeaways are definitely the third-person references, as well as the fixation on business and profit. The lines linking to Curio Hacker especially stand out to me — “risks” and “prices” remind me a lot of Organic Heart. But I’ll save that for its own analysis! As for now, I hope this was a comprehensive-enough coverage of Sampo’s voicelines. In my opinion, this man definitely has some Elation-related shenanigans going on.

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[imagines--galore]

Hello! Can I request a fake dating fic with Clark with coworker and best friend reader please :)

Pairing: Superman(Clark Kent) x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Oooooooooooo I ADORE the fake-dating trope! Meep! Also vote for the second part here.

"Your mother thinks what?!"

Several nosy reporters poked their heads up from where they had been working on their latest scoops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you dragging Clark by the sleeve of his shirt and into the empty conference room. To anyone new it would've been an unusual sight, seeing someone as tall as Clark Kent be dragged by someone at least a head or two shorter them him. But the workers at the Daily Planet were used to seeing the two of you together.

Once inside the conference room and assured that no one else would hear you or Clark, you turned you attention back to him

"Keep your voice down!" You huffed, before giving a small shrug. "And its not a big deal."

"A big deal?! Y/n, you lied to your mother." The corner of your mouth twitched and you were unable to meet the disappointed look in his blue eyes. "I didn't lie to her per se."

Clark rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Well you didn't correct her either."

Pouting slightly you threw him an accusing look. "Yeah well, its your fault isn't it? You shouldn't have gotten me such an expensive gift for my birthday! She just saw the necklace and when she asked who gave it to me I said you did, and then she just assumed we were going out and I.......I didn't correct her." Your voice trailed off, seeing that you weren't really going to win this argument.

At the mention of the necklace, your fingers had unconsciously lifted to run the tips of them along the piece of jewelry that you had taken to wearing since Clark gave it to you.

It was truly a gorgeous piece, and now counted as one of your most prized possessions. Not because it was probably expensive, but because Clark had been the one to give it to you. His gaze dropped to your throat as well, where the necklace lay just between your collarbone.

"And now she has invited us over this weekend to meet me?" Clark confirmed, finally meeting your eyes once more to which you gave a nod. "Well she wants to meet the new beau, her words not mine." You were quick to clarify, your eyes widening in horror at the word that had slipped you. "So you're suggesting we spend an entire evening together, and pretend that we're dating?"

You gave a little flinch. "Sounds cliché, I know." Clark only shook his head. "I should really stop you from watching those rom-coms you're always crying over." He grumbled under his breath. "Too many romantic ideas in your head makes for these kinds of situations."

You bristled. "Hey! I'll have you know I watch classical rom-coms, none of those new hallmark rom-coms that makes you wanna puke." You had a particular taste when it came to the movies you watched, although your best friend's taste was significantly different then yours.

Yes.

Best friends.

You and Clark were best friends who were now being roped into fake-dating. Why? Because you were too much of a coward to come out and tell the truth to your over-bearing hard to please mother.

This would either go really good or turn into a complete disaster.

                                             ————————–

A few hours later you and Clark were both at his apartment, sharing the food you had ordered to bribe him further.

"Well I suppose we should start setting the rules and such? At least thats what they do in movies." You suggested, once the Kryptonian had managed to go through half the food. A well-fed Clark was a happy Clark, you had learned long ago.

"Remind me again why am I doing this for you?" He asked, digging into your takeout container to steal one your chicken pieces. You smacked his chopsticks away with your own, pulling the container out of his reach.

"Because I'm buying you dinner here, and also because you love me." You stated in such a off-handed manner as you stuffed your mouth with chicken that you didn't even notice how Clark stiffened at your side at your words.

Polishing off the food you began to speak. "They'll be coming in a couple days, so dress nice, and appropriately. Make sure to wear your coat. I know you have an internal heater given that you're freakin' E.T." You gestured to his overall physique, to which he rolled his eyes at you. "But us puny humans get cold a lot, so coat, hat, and gloves."

"I know, Y/n." He said in an exasperated tone, to which you grinned. You loved messing with him, acting all delicate and weak just to tease him about his strength and powers. It was all in good fun though.

"She already knows how we met, and will probably ask really nosy questions. Dad will just sit there quietly and let her do all the talking. Besides he already likes you so you don't have to win him over." Clark looked up from where he had been pouring himself a drink.

"He does?" You smiled at him. His blue eyes were so hopeful and the smile he wore was so adorable. Did it really matter to him that your parents liked him?

You shrugged. "Well yeah. I mean I did tell him how you helped me out with the stalker situation, without telling him that you were Superman, and he was really grateful. Said it was good that I had someone sensible looking out for me." You poked your tongue out at the triumphant look in his eyes. "I agree with your father, between the two of us one of us should be the sensible one."

Raising an eyebrow at him you leaned towards him, arms wrapped around your legs which you had pulled up on the couch. Your eyes narrowed. "Remind me which one of us flies around wearing a cape and goes around actually looking for trouble?"

Clark gave a smug smile, leaning back against the couch and resting the back of his head on his forearm. "At least I can handle trouble. If I didn't, I couldn't have handled you all these years now could I?"

You scoffed, though you were unable to fight off the smirk that pulled at your lips. "Oh please. You? Handle me? I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Do you honestly need one Kent?"

"I am a gentleman Y/L/N. Of course I do."

"Alright fine! If you pull off convincing my mother we're dating, I'll let you handle me however you want."

Translation: You would do whatever he asked you to do.

"And if I loose, I'll take you up to the Watch Tower again."

"Sounds good! I'm due for a gossip session with Wally and Diana."

He stuck out his hand. "May the best of us win." You grinned, grasping his hand within your own and giving it a firm shake. "Oh, I will."

Clark only smirked. When it came to betting and competitions, you both had rather competitive streaks. Sometimes he would win, and other times you were the victor. It was always fun to one-up the other.

And you had a feeling this little competition would take the cake.

                                             ————————–

The day of the dinner arrived, and you spent the entire day pampering yourself. Just because it was a fake dinner date with your parents, with your fake boyfriend, it didn't mean you couldn't be looking nice.

Good think it was a Saturday. You were meeting your parents in the evening, and Clark would be picking you up. You had only just put the finishing touches on your makeup when the bell rang. Dashing to the door, quite the feat since you were wearing heels, you pulled it open.

The sight that greeted you had your mind short-circuiting.

Both of your office attires were semi-formal at best, and at home both of you wore the worst of your clothes. And though the image of Clark as Superman was impressive enough, nothing could beat the sight that your eyes feasted on right then.

You had told him to dress nicely, and clean up. And damn, did he clean up good. Under the winter coat he had on, he was wearing a black suit that was tailored to show off his muscular body perfectly. The shirt under the jacket was a deep red, which actually looked quite good with the black tie. You had a sudden urge to tug him forward by grabbing it, but you refrained yourself.

Little did you know, Clark was battling his own inner dilemma. Seeing you standing there in the dress you had chosen for the evening. Wearing the necklace he had gotten you. You were already beautiful on a daily basis, but right then you looked absolutely stunning.

Managing to come back to the present, you gave him a quick smile. "You clean up nice Kent. Just let me grab my coat and we'll get going." You pivoted on your heel to retrieve the garment, completely missing the way his blue eyes roamed the expanse of bare skin the dress left exposed.

Tonight would be a long night for him.

                                             ————————–

"So far so good."

You heaved a sigh as you slumped into your chair, with Clark drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You mother had gone to the powder room while your father stepped out for a quick smoke, under the pretense of a phone call.

"I now understand where you get your perceptive nature from." He attempted to joke, recalling to all the questions your mother had thrown at the both of you over the course of the evening.

"Yes, but unlike my mother, I know when to stop." You muttered, taking yet another sip of your wine. You had topped off long ago, and were still going strong. You needed all the alcohol you could get when it came to dealing with your mother.

"Well we're just left with dessert." He pointed out as the waiter brought their choice of desserts and left. You didn't even wait for your parents to get back, starting to dig into the chocolate tart you had ordered. Clark shot you an amused glance to which you held out a spoonful of chocolatey goodness for him to taste. He obliged, never once breaking eye contact with you. And the absolutely sinful way his mouth wrapped around the spoon had an involuntary shudder course through your entire body.

The feeling had become rather frequent since the start of the evening.

When Clark had taken your hand to help you out of the cab.

When his hand had rested against the bare skin of your exposed back.

When he had settled beside you and offered you a reassuring smile.

When you had rested a comforting hand on his thigh when your mother's words had become a little too harsh and you had defended him.

When your foot had slid to touch his under the table and had stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When you had allowed your pinkies to touch when both your hands had rested next to one another on the table.

When your eyes had met and he had recounted the time he had first met you. You had never considered the moment from his point of view, and your heart had nearly melted at what he had described.

How he had thought you were one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. How he adored the way you were able to call him out on his bullshit. How he could just be himself when he was around you.

It was a pity all of this was pretend.

Or was it?

As he pulled away from the spoon, your eyes drifted to his lips where a small chocolate smudge had remained. You had no idea what compelled you to reach out and gently wipe away the thick chocolate.

Only to bring the digit to your lips and licking it clean.

You definitely weren't imagining the way Clark's eyes darkened, his light blue orbs suddenly taking on a stormy sheen that had you shivering deliciously.

This had to be an award-winning performance right?

Whatever trance the two of you were in was broken by the arrival of your mother, loudly complaining about something in the powder room that wasn't to her liking. You turned your attention back to her, with Clark a little surprised that your mother had been so oblivious to the moment you and him had been having just a moment ago.

Suddenly Clark sat up straight. You frowned at him as he quickly stood and muttering something about a phone call walked out of the restaurant, just as your father returned.

He returned moments later. "I apologize everyone, but Mr. White needs me to cover a story and I need to get going right now." He said, picking up his coat from the back of his chair as he did. From the urgency in his voice you quickly deduced that it was superhero business.

"Well now!' Your mother began indignantly to which you quickly cut her off. "The life of a reporter. Always on the clock." You said with a small laugh as you stood as well.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening everyone. And don't worry about the bill." Clark added with a charming smile. He was doing that on purpose, you knew.

He turned his attention to you and you smiled at him. "Well go do your job then and be careful." You straightened the collar of his coat. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Before you could say anything else he quickly leaned down, cupping the side of your face, to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a simple brush of the lips, and yet you felt it to the very tips of your toes.

It was over just as soon as it had begun.

"I'll see you later." He muttered as he pulled back before he was off.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly sliding into your seat once more.

"I suppose your taste in men has improved significantly Y/n." You heard your mother say. You glanced up at her, still a little lost from having Clark kiss you.

"He's a good one, honey." Your father said gently, giving your hand a small pat.

Just then the big screen television that had been playing some program in the background was interrupted with some breaking news. News that showed Superman and the Justice League fighting yet another threat to Earth.

And while the rest of the patrons and staff clamored to get closer to the screen your eyes never left Clark's face as the camera showed him as Superman, as he rescued civilians.

"He is." You softly spoke, more so to yourself then your parents, as you smiled at the next thought.

Seems he won your little bet this time around.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Crosshair Bodyguard Pt 2

<<<Part 1. Part 3>>>

He lingers and hovers when given orders as though his internal monologue is convincing him to break the rules that he held so dearly just to get a moment alone with you.

It had gotten to the point that even his brothers had begun to tease him about his mannerisms around you.

You know the exact moment when he entered a room or if he was already present, his whole body would swivel towards your direction as though you were the most important thought that inhabits his mind.

He waits for you at the start of stairs or at the entrance of starships just so he would be the first to lend his hand to help you up.

His gloved hands would wrap around yours with such yearning that you felt the immediate loss of his touch instantly.

He goes out of his way for you even when you had told him it wasn’t necessary, like walking you back to your room just to be sure you got there safely and then entering your room with your permission to make sure it was safe.

He checked all the possible spots but his attentive gaze grazed your bed, then you and his fingers clutched around his rifle even tighter. It was as though he had gotten himself distracted.

“All clear.”, he stated as he started towards the door when you blocked his exit, mustering up all your courage. Pushing the door panels behind you till you heard a soft click.

“I have some bad news to share.”, you started and he shifted his weight. “My field work is coming to an end, I’ve been assigned to train the new batch of Padawans.”, you held your nerves together as you broke the news to him. You had been mulling over the fact that this might be the last time you would see him and have him around you.

“I can still be assigned - he began to speak but you cut him off. “Clone force 99 is only assigned for missions, I will have an other reg assigned to me.”, you looked away as you held back from saying more. “I already asked.”, you pursed your lips in the hopes it wouldn’t give you away.

“We can still be friends.”, you quickly added fearing that his silence meant he was ok with this distance and it broke your heart. “Friends?”, his voice was strained but annoyed.

“Jedi do not foster such relationships.”, his answer was immediate and you looked away as tears threatened to fall. He shifted his weight again.

“And you? Are you bound by duty as well?”, you asked, it felt so childish but some part of you wanted his answer.

“Clones are soldiers first, we are bound to our orders.”, he straightened but even with his helmet on, you could feel the weight of his gaze.

You pushed away, in an attempt to hide your tears but as you moved he was quick to reach for your wrist and pulled you towards him. But when did, he watched a single tear drop trickled down your cheek and it was enough to shatter his cold heart.

“Order me to stay.”, he said softly, the words slipped his lips only because he could not contain it anymore.

He had only a few seconds prior stated you were incapable of loving, but the more you denied it and the more he stuck to his duty, this special affinity for Crosshair only grew to consume your soul.

“You said it yourself, I am a Jedi and you are a Clone. We are both bound by duty.”, he heard you say and he hated himself more. You pulled your hand away from his and it burned like he had dipped his fingers into a fire pit.

He watched you walk away towards the window, he knew very well he was the reason for your tears and for his own heartbreak. He never missed the mark with his rifle but with his words, he was miserable. If he reached for you now, would you forgive him?

But his instinct kicked, he was a sniper first, he liked to stay hidden and right this second, he felt rather vulnerable with how exposed and raw his emotions felt. He didn’t want to fracture this relationship any further, so he turned away and left.

I will most definitely be writing a part 3

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 12 -- WHEN ONLY FRIENDS GOT 2GETHER-ED

TRIGGER WARNING: EVERYONE'S UP FOR CRITICISM HERE, JOJO AND TEAM, FORCEBOOK, FIRSTKHAO, ALL OF THEM. Read at your peril.

Well. Big deep breaths. I spent a lot of time on a show that had been marketed as not-a-BL, that ended as a BL. As a mom with not that much time to spend on watching and writing on dramas that were marketed incorrectly, I am feeling some kinda way (fucking pissed off).

So many people had amazing takes yesterday, on both sides of the aisle, regarding how the show ended (pro-ending here, anti-ending here, here, here, here, here, and here, and my dear friends @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan did heavy lifting on reblogs yesterday, so stroll on over to their blogs for more).

I want to set up a constellation of points to touch upon before I get into the meat of this post.

1) I referred quite a bit to my review of Theory of Love throughout my watch of Only Friends. In that review, I meditate on how the majority of the general global public judges sex, and casual sex, and people who have sex and/or casual sex. Generally speaking -- even in countries that makes as progressive art on sex and sexuality as Thailand and the United States -- that's a rule of thumb that I can rely on. Sex is judged by the majority of the global public.

2) I hate to say it. I cannot believe this happened. But I was right about monogamy being an ultimate theme in Only Friends. Not just a theme, fam. A theme by which people judged others for having open, casual, and consensual sex. Queer sex. Queer sex that is so very often had outside of the constraints of a monogamous relationship.

There was a reason why that holiday party was populated by couples, except for Boston, and Boston had to grovel to them in apology for their friendship. In Only Friends: monogamy wins, and casual queer sex loses.

3) Unfortunately, in part though an analysis of Cheum inside of last week that I accidentally started (ha), I see that points 1 and 2 come together to have created a fabric and framework of judgement that Only Friends ended on.

The last paragraph in this excellent post by @benkaaoi notes that the assumption by a large portion of the OF fandom that the creative choices that were made to end this series were designed to save the sanctity -- economic and otherwise -- of the shipped pairs of ForceBook and FirstKhao. This rings true to me.

Most of the BL shows that I've watched this year are older shows, through my Old GMMTV Challenge, in which I've been studying the changes over time that GMMTV and other Thai networks, have made towards their editorial choices, attitudes, and risks in producing BLs. I included Only Friends on this syllabus to note the show's impact as a kind of zeitgeist measure of how much heat and literary controversy GMMTV could take in airing increasingly progressive queer media -- even though Only Friends wasn't originally intended to be a BL.

To the theory that Only Friends needed to save the ships... and to another theory that the ships needed to be saved in the most moralistically judgmental way that I could have ever imagined (I was actually blown away by how heavy-handed this messaging was) -- I look to the ending of 2gether.

The majority general reaction to the ending of 2gether from within the existing BL fandom in 2020, was one of guffawed incredulousness. BrightWin/SarawatTine did not kiss in the first season of 2gether. It took Aof Noppharnach to come in to make Still 2gether to indicate that these two young men may have been at least vaguely sexual with each other throughout the course of their fictional relationship.

Yet, 2gether was a massive success. Many theorize it was because 2gether was the first big BL to air during the start of the COVID pandemic, and new BL fans had time to be at home and watch shows. But I posit in my 2gether/Still 2gether review that 2gether was also successful PRECISELY BECAUSE IT LACKED SEX (and by sex here, I mean plain old kissin').

As I stated earlier: sex is judged by the majority of the global public. With BrightWin NOT kissing, new fans who may have been implicitly and/or explicitly turned off by physical depictions of queer love could glom comfortably onto 2gether, and watch a BL without the "threat" of physical depictions of two men expressing their love to each other.

Subsequently, BrightWin gained massive social media followings, 2gether made GMMTV buckets of money, and GMMTV went -- well, hot diggity.

Many of us had impressions of Only Friends as...something else than it ended up being. Early on, Jojo Tichakorn, for instance, cited an early non-GMMTV, non-BL show, Gay OK Bangkok, that he and Aof Noppharnach worked on in 2016 and 2017, as being referential to Only Friends. Gay OK Bangkok centered on a group of queer friends, mostly cisgender men with Jennie Panhan in the mix, as they lived their lives and dated away in Bangkok.

I'll tell ya, GOKB didn't end the way Only Friends did, and I'll get into that more in a bit. I believe @benkaaoi, @lurkingshan, and others are absolutely right that the ultimate moralization on casual sex that this show depicted -- and how Only Friends punished Boston for his casual sex -- was an economic decision designed to reflect on the sanctity of monogamy that shipped couples like ForceBook and FirstKhao can sell back to their fans, fans that may have actually flocked to GMMTV shows from 2gether, and that demand a fantasy of devoted monogamy from both fictional characters and professional actors who are actually only just doing fan service to earn their livings. GMMTV has known for a long time how to make money, and money the network doth has made from Only Friends, and from shipping their ships around the world to service the growing fandom.

Casual sex in fiction, casual sex that breaks up the ships.... fucks that economic shit all up.

GMMTV has taught us our lesson, a lesson that we had already learned from the no-kissing rule of 2gether. Loose lips shall not sink ships at this network. And I think we lost a chance for a big and progressively artistic zeitgeist that GMMTV could have taken risks on, if it had the courage to risk depicting something truly novel.

I want to note quickly another framework that I dug into while I was watching this show. I sent a flare to @lurkingshan before I started watching the episode that I was going to, in part, watch this last episode from my personal Asian lens. I wanted to ask myself, as I was watching this disaster -- is there anything happening here that strikes my heart with fear and doom as an Asian?

Indeed, yes. I didn't expect it, but there was a dialogue on individualism vs. collectivism.

Boston. My dear, sweet Boston. Boston, named after a city so very distant from Bangkok.

Boston was punished by his group of friends because he didn't adhere to the rules of the group. His individualistic actions and preferences -- his preferences to "roll alone," as Nick stated, would not work in the frameworks of either monogamy with Nick and/or the group dynamics of the hostel crew.

The link I linked above is an amazing answer to an inquiry I posed to dear @absolutebl last year about how Asian social collectivist paradigms are depicted in BLs. In that question-and-answer dialogue, I asked ABL Sensei about the motif of queer revelations in BLs, and how seemingly straight characters respond in kind to being approached with a proposition to a queer dalliance and/or relationship. Generally speaking, the Asian collectivist mindset is to at least attempt to respond in kind to those kinds of propositions, as one's behavioral habits are designed to be responsive to others instinctually, as opposed to only servicing oneself. To only service oneself is not only seen as selfish, but also as disturbing to the general flow of public existence among one's societies. To respond in kind means that you will not cause potentially disturbing angst to another individual or group. (Collectivism explains why Asian countries performed much better with mask mandates during the pandemic than we in the States did.)

So -- Boston filming Ray, Boston sleeping with Top, created waves in the friend group. He was so severely punished for it.

And the show iterates, and repeats, Nick's preference that Boston move forward alone in Boston's life, because of Boston's tendencies to make decisions that suit himself. As an Asian-American, I mutter to myself: god forbid.

Nick will not commit to Boston -- and yet, will also condemn Boston for making his own decisions outside of the specter of a monogamy that does not exist between Nick and Boston, and that Boston will still get judged for, as referenced in the Sand/Nick conversation depicted above.

In other words: if Boston makes a decision for himself? That's punishable. Because it might hurt someone else's feelings -- a someone else that actually hasn't committed to Boston, and/or allowed Boston to commit himself to.

This group caught Boston in a moralistic and collectivist catch-22, the likes of which I just would have never expected from Jojo and team, even if the creative team faced the economic pressures of the GMMTV bigwigs. I'm sorry to state that I am beyond disappointed in this condemnation of individualism, sending Boston alone, judged, and friendless, off to New York City to live in, what, the immoral boundaries of Chelsea? Homey, get a fucking SWEET-ASS PAD, and FUCK THESE LOSERS, leave 'em BEHIND in your cloud of airplane gas emissions. See you at the La Quinta rooftop bar on 32nd Street, friendo.

Only Friends could have ended so much better. And I understand that in the Only Friends novel, published AFTER the script was finished, that it did end somewhat better for Boston (cc @jinitak, reporting from Thailand, thank you for this heads-up about the novel!).

So. Any-fucking-way. Do y'all know how Gay OK Bangkok ended?

Of many lovely endings for the various GOKB characters, an older main character, Aof, was dating a much younger character, Big. (CC to @neuroticbookworm for our quick convo on this last night.)

Aof was sex-averse. Big wanted lots of sex. Big slept with a lot of people. He loved Aof. Aof couldn't handle Big having sex with other people, and they broke up. It was a lovingly handled break-up, written just gorgeously by Aof Noppharnach.

After their break-up, I thought Big would disappear from the show. Instead. Instead! Nong Big, the little brother to the core group of queer friends that centered GOKB, was welcomed back with open arms. Arm, Pom, Sathang (played by an effervescent Jennie Panhan), and others toasted to Big, telling him he would always be family, no matter if him and his ex, Aof, had broken up. In the queer circles of friends that I'm a part of, exes are not as commonly excommunicated as they are in straight circles.

Only Friends could have been this. Something, a little something, like this.

Instead, Only Friends punished a friend for acting outside of the rules of their group.

Boston was punished because.... because Only Friends had to end up being a BL. For the sake of the moolah, for the sake of collectivism, for the sake of the shippers who'll buy tickets around the world to see ForceBook and FirstKhao perform fan service on stage.

I just didn't think that the show would be so brutal, on so many levels, in the end, to people who want to have casual sex. I don't think any of us expected this. But, it's over, it's done, and the piece has been said -- GMMTV said, no casual sex today, and here's how we actually feel about it.

I'll see you over on Gagaoolala for Playboyy. Deuces, OF.

(It was an absolute pleasure writing meta with the Ephemerality Squad -- onto the next one! @lurkingshan @neuroticbookworm @ranchthoughts @twig-tea @slayerkitty @thatgirl4815 @distant-screaming @clara-maybe-ontheroad)

[junedenim]

2007

beneath the boardwalk, part 5 (series masterlist)

my mistakes were made for you

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, robert, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I had my hair cut just above my shoulders but it was not a bob, I am adamant about this. I got a light fringe that I never wore full-frontal on my forehead. I was inclined to pull the two sections apart like a curtain or, regrettably, have them as side bangs.

After New Year's, I returned to London and left many things behind in Wakefield, most notably my journals. I was starting fresh and wanted to claim independence. Stacey gifted me a stack of Moleskine notebooks for Christmas that I wrote in and I began babysitting two girls (5 & 7) who lived in the building with their single mother, Lee, who was 6 years older than me. Georgia and I refused to turn on the heat because we weren't overflowing with cash, especially after my father and I agreed I would start paying rent after the three-month grace period he gave me. 

The other reason was we felt more like struggling artists, piled under blankets, wearing two pairs of socks, and heating meals in the microwave because they had grown too cold too quickly. Georgia would write poetry in her room then meet me in the living room and recite it. I was without an editor since Alex and I's parting. So, I began to share my writing with Georgia.  After we traded pieces, we would crack the window open and smoke cigarettes out of it. 

I was aware I was using Georgia to refill the Alex-shaped hole in my life. What Georgia and I were doing was what I dreamt for Alex and me. I had overwhelming happiness for Alex but I felt disappointed (and certainly jealous) that we didn't experience the struggling artist phase together. But Georgia was what I needed: a friend.

Madeline Critchley, who helped me submit to Granta, got me a position with the University of Greenwich's literary magazine, Anthology. It felt dumb to start at the magazine a few months before I was finished with school but she told me it didn't matter how much time I put into it but what I got out of it. It was cheesy but it ended up being true. I wrote endlessly, trapped inside that building. I was overcome by some being and she never let me stop.

*

I was invited to a secret gig at The Leadmill in February. Arctic Monkeys's tour director emailed the invitation. I thought about going but used the excuse of babysitting and RSVPed no. Georgia, her new girlfriend, Kyle, Dianna, Robert, and I went and saw Amy Winehouse instead. Obviously, I don't regret the decision.

Not speaking of Alex seemed an unspoken rule but I couldn't help but think of him when Amy came on stage. Not because I related her songs to Alex and our relationship but because the bastard got to meet her and didn't fucking introduce me to her!

Robert's place was a close distance from Astoria so we all, except Dianna, went back and crashed at his place instead of taking a 40-minute ride home on the underground late at night. Georgia and Kyle would sleep on the pull-out and Robert would share his bed with me.

Before we went to sleep, Robert and I smoked a joint in his room. It didn't do much for me, only making me tired-eyed. Robert was in a constant state of haziness. He wore leather pants and a turtleneck. His hair was overgrown and every movement he made bounced his curls. 

"Heard about you and Alex." It was the first time we had seen each other this semester. I had only told Georgia, she informed everyone else for me.

"Yep."

"Sorry 'bout that."

I shrugged. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

"Sucks we can't get free concert tickets now."

I huffed a laugh. "I didn't think you were much of a fan anyway."

"Well, you know, it's a good place to pick up girls." He eyed me. It was obvious.

"I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing."

"Oh, come on, like you weren't watching every girl there who could steal your man."

I shrugged again. I was never threatened by that idea or maybe I was just uncaring towards it.

"Your ambivalence is a man's greatest dream."

"He never did anything for me to not trust him."

"What about me?"

"Oh," I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "I'd never trust you."

We shared a laugh and the joint had reached its butt. He put it down. "So, shall we just get to fucking?"

I pushed off the wall and walked over to what had been deemed my side of the bed. "God, Robert."

"Come on. It's been a long time coming. We're here. We're single. It's our last year. We're never gonna be here again."

"You just want to get yours wet."

"So, you're wet? And hell yeah."

"Shut up."

"Let me kiss you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Me too."

We laid side-by-side for a minute before I kissed him and then we fucked. I don't remember much. I wasn't that drunk or high. It just wasn't very memorable.

*

Robert and I had a transactional relationship. Before we began hooking up this was the case and now that we were spending our nights together, we shared awful things with one another, none of which were words. Drugs seemed to be the biggest thing. A joint after sex was expected and by March, Robert and I were snorting coke with one another. It was quite enjoyable. For the time.

We ended up in Regent's Park one night. We sprawled across the vast grass. He called people—they weren't friends—on his Motorola Razr and switched between rambling with them and rambling at me. I brought my notebook and thought about writing but he was too loud.

I searched through my bag for something I never found and remembered when I came with Alex. I hated the infection of him but something about that night and picturing him on a bench next to me made me smile. 

I thought of guards changing. My first trip down to London when I was 10 and how Stacey and I stood, faces squeezing through the gates of Buckingham Palace to watch the New Guard replace the Old Guard. I couldn't understand how anyone would want to stand outside on sentry duty for hours. The relief when the New Guard showed up must have been such an enormous relief as their bladders ached and their shoulders begged for mercy. I wondered about the relief Alex felt as the New Guard replaced him. Or did he wish to continue to stand still by the palace's side? But the Old Guard becomes the New Guard eventually. They all just go spinning around. 

I wrote about the places we attribute to people. The corners of the world that just belong to them. (Alex, unbeknownst to me, had already done the same [505]). I left Alex's fingerprint out of the piece but it had him all smeared over it. I wrote about the Guard and Stacey's little head nearly trapped in between the metal bars. It was my favourite piece I wrote for Anthology. 

I sent it to Alex. He responded:

Buckingham Palace still has guards???? Are people still trying to actively kill the Queen?

I responded:

Diana's ghost.

Alex never sent me any of his work. I dreamt of a book one day appearing on my car roof. But my car stayed in Wakefield and Alex stayed nowhere. It was a rotten daydream.

*

In April, days before Favourite Worst Nightmare was released, the band played the Astoria for two nights. I hadn't heard any material yet, besides the recently released single "Brianstorm" and its b-sides, I had heard none of the album. It was unsettling not to know the songs. To not have the entire setlist memorized, front to back. 

My goal was always to be friends with Alex and going to the concert felt like solidifying this notion. Georgia found my need to befriend Alex so quickly after we had ended bizarre and unnecessary. But it had been months and I was ready to rip the Band-Aid. Georgia came with me. Robert insisted too. 

It did end up being bizarre. I was unacquainted with going to an Arctic Monkeys concert and not talking to Alex beforehand. When they came on stage, their appearances were much like when I saw them last. Alex hadn't changed one bit, but his demeanor had. He was stiffer, not in a good or bad way, just an indistinguishable way.

New additions met my ears well with the bass of "Balaclava" ringing through me for days to come. I shifted around "Do Me A Favour" as details became obvious that the subject matter was concerning us and our teary eyes. It made me fidget but I loved it so I couldn't quite complain about the feeling of irk I got. My opinion changed when it was followed by "Mardy Bum" where I knew all of this was a conscious choice. It was an attack on my heart whose walls were still susceptible to incursion.

I found myself relating to songs that weren't written for me like I was the average listener. "Leave Before the Lights Come On" had a different meaning standing next to Robert. I felt ashamed for that and that made me enraged by Alex because without moving a muscle I felt like he was dictating my life through my hippocampus only. 

After the show, we waited outside for the band. Georgia also found this insane. Robert said it was tragic but in a poetic way. I said they could go but both refused. 

Jamie came out first with Katie who wrapped her arms around me which could be deemed as a threat to my life if it wasn't so loving. She did the same to Georgia and I laughed at the way Georgia flailed her arms around.

The rest of the band followed with Alex's eyes wide and looking between the floor and me, unable to process the sight in a simple glance. "Alright! We're heading back to Robert's place!" Matt shouted. His eyes on Alex became clear he was teasing him. 

Regardless, I chuckled and hugged Matt. "No. I was hoping to join wherever you were going if you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never," Nick said, giving me a hug. Nick and I didn't know much about each other other than what Alex told each of us. I liked him because he had always greeted me with a wide smile, welcoming to all. He often seemed like he was just happy to be along for the ride wherever that ride took him. I like that quality very much.

As we walked out further into the street, the paparazzi snapped away, more at the band than the 3 dimwits following them, nevertheless, Robert began a potent rant against the invasion of paparazzi and how it was Big Brother and flexing that he had read 1984 as if it wasn't required reading for everyone in high school. He continued this the whole ride until we arrived at the pub.

It was premier service for a place that felt so unchic but I knew nothing about how the status of celebrity worked. Alex and I didn't go out enough for me to witness it. I had no qualms about using the complimentary service for my drinks. 

In the booth, Robert sat with his arm around me. Our displays were often limited to his flat but when he stood to go use the restroom and kissed my cheek I knew what he was doing. I had to laugh, it was impossibly amusing.  

I left for a cigarette. Alex followed a minute later. My back was against the wall as he approached. "Hi."

"Hi." I unconsciously handed him one. It was second nature.

He blew a puff out and asked, "You got a review for me?" That was also second nature.

I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at the floor. "Excellent as usual."

"Dry as ever, come on, Janie, you've got to give me more here."

I gave what I could. "I liked the new songs."

It seemed less jokey now as his laughter fell but he smiled at me sincerely. "Thanks."

"I'm sure the album will be great." I never doubted that. Even if he wrote the most scathing things about me, I would love it because he’d word it in such a way that I simply could not hate it.

Our conversation was like hitting a tennis ball back and forth but each time one of us hit it the other wouldn't hit it back. I thought about going inside. Then, he asked me, "You and Robert together?"

His bluntness had taken me aback and I focused on my cigarette to process the question. "Does Robert strike you as the boyfriend type?"

It made Alex laugh, which was the only relief in the world I would need. "I suppose not. Kissing you on the cheek and all—I'm sorry, not my business."

He was flustered, which made me laugh. He was small and cute when he was flustered, messing with his hair and shaking his head. "You know, he gets a kick out of making you jealous."

"Really?" Alex chuckled at the idea. I think Alex, for many years, viewed himself as the underdog, even if he was more famous, richer, cuter, and kinder than nearly anyone else I knew. 

"I think you make him feel insufficient. I'm not sure why but he's always felt a need to overcompensate when you're around."

"So, he doesn't do stuff like that usually?"

I never liked lying to Alex. "No. But in full transparency, we are doing the hook-up thing or whatever."

He verged on saying something but closed his mouth and scuffed out his cigarette. I joined him in dropping mine. "Lucky him."

I pushed him light-heartedly. "Shut up."

We returned inside and Robert's arm returned around me. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes for the evening, he was loud in his exclamation that we were leaving together and returning to his flat. I had to hide my laughter. Robert's usual too-cool-for-school conduct faded at the sight of Alex. It made it funnier when Alex pulled me aside while everyone was saying their goodbyes.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow?"

I shook my head. 

"Come."

"I can't. I've got to babysit."

Matt interjected, "They let you around children?"

Before I could say anything, Alex told him, "Will you shut it, Matthew?"

When Matt moved away, Alex grabbed my hands. "Just come tomorrow. Another night of free drinks if you want."

I giggled at his earnestness. "I would if I could."

"Cancel. Come on."

"Al."

"Look, how many nights am I in town for? Come on, Janie."

His eyes wide, his mouth saying his name for me, and his hands clutching mine. I didn't say no.

*

My arms are crossed and my head is shaking the first time I hear "505" because I don't know what to make of it and I don't know what to make of this. Alex was dressed in a sky-blue Lacoste (this will be more relevant in a few years) and he pressed down on the keys as he pressed down on me.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I wasn't sure if I should cry or smile. The song left me uneasy and I felt I didn't know what was true anymore. That wavelength between us had been severed and I imagined Alex felt sad about our break-up but I never thought he was rethinking his actions and pining for that hotel room again. I had been the one to lament over our break-up and send it to him. He had stayed reserved in all his opinions and hid away his emotions. It wasn't a new thing by any means. But I did feel a sense of betrayal when I heard the information with 2,000 other people instead of under blankets and sheets, whispered in the dead of winter.

But I didn't want to talk about it so after the show I didn't bring it up. His mannerisms shifted from his awkward movement to more deliberately positioned as he hugged me after the show like he had done so many times before, sweaty.

"Drinks?" I asked him.

He moved back and forth between his left and right foot. "I was thinking I could see this new flat I keep hearing about." 

Everything was intentional and obvious. "It's not very fabulous."

He waved me off. "I'm sure you've gushed the place up."

"Gushed the place up?" I questioned his verbiage.

Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed my upper arm. "Come on. Let me see the grounds."

Off we went on the underground to my flat, just the two of us. He kept jumping in his seat on the way over, citing excitement. "It feels out of place that I haven't seen your place," he said.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

On our way up the stairs to my flat, Alex tried to challenge me to a race but my feet hurt and I couldn't believe he still had enough energy after performing concert after concert. My back was slumped and Alex was standing up perked as I unlocked the door. 

"Georgia home?" He asked as we made our way through the door.

"With Kyle."

He nodded, tight-lipped. I could see the scene unfolding before him in his mind as we stood in the living room/kitchen hybrid. He looked around the room like he had actual interest in it before his eyes landed on me with a smile.

"Do you do this in every city?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Al. You're easy to read."

He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tried to fight that grin bursting across his face. "I wanted to see your place."

I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bedroom. "Yeah, sure." He followed behind like an obedient puppy.

He was attentive in looking around the room, nearly all those trinkets he had memorized from my old room had been replaced with new ones. The poster flier from one of Georgia's poetry readings, the Amy Winehouse ticket stub, and the dumb joke from Alex's Christmas cracker were pinned on my mini bulletin board. The paper crown and mini deck of cards sat displayed on my desk. A slight upturn came to Alex's cheeks at the sight.

His gaze moved back to me. "A lot smaller than your room back home."

"Yeah. Rent's expensive and I'm paying rent now."

"Out from under your dad's thumb." Seeing him as pleased with this as I had been was a happy sight. Those long chats in hidden coves where we'd be independent together. But as always Alex was happy for me even without having him as codependence. 

Alex faked looking around my room more as I sat on the edge of my bed. He'd bend down to look at things like he was at a museum. His hands stayed in his pockets the whole time and he examined the corners and details of everything as if he'd be quizzed on it.

"Are you looking to see what you're going to steal from me?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, sorry. Just curious." He picked up the mini deck of cards, tossing it in his hands. "Round of Gin?"

"Alex." I wanted to be clear. "You came over here to play cards with me?"

His eyes were stuck on the deck's package, fiddling with the cardboard lid. "I just..." He shrugged multiple times and bounced on his feet. "I guess, I missed you, you know."

"Yeah." It was an easy sentiment to agree to because I feared I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

"We were in Tokyo a few weeks ago and I wanted to go see that Buddha you wrote about that, that, that—"

"Kamakura Daibutsu."

"Yeah." He looked down solemnly. "Wasn't there long enough to do it. I don't know. It just had me thinking about you and I know the relationship thing has sailed." 

I didn't believe that. I didn't want to believe that. I had held on to those hidden beliefs that after all the madness we'd return to each other's side and all would be well. An abyss grew in me that Alex didn't believe that too.

"But," he continued. "But just all that shite that I'd done to make it worse and I vowed I'd never do that and I'm sorry for being a total dickhead."

"I did things too that I knew would hurt you."

"You did nothing."

"I slept with someone in Aruba."

He froze, his stare on me as he processed the information. "Uh, that's fine."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. I don't want to start acting like my parents."

"I don't want tonight to be this depressing," he laughed wetly. 

"What did you want tonight to be?"

"I, I, to be—to hang out, to be with you."

"We could have done that at a pub. Why'd you want to come to my flat?" We looked at each other, both knowing the answer but waiting to see if the other would verbalize it.

He put the deck back on my desk and sat beside me. He stared forward at the wall for a moment before falling on his back. He rubbed his face as if to scrub it off, not wanting me to see the sight of it. My eyes never stopped following him. I was afraid to blink.

"My plan was to be all cute, tha knows."

"Aren't you always?"

The comment seemed to drop his guard a bit as he placed his hands on his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at me. His smile slowly grew as if it was being watered by the sight of me. "If you want to kiss me, you can."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him but my smile was unavoidable.

"Come on." He tugged on my wrist. "You wouldn't let me endure one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

I slapped away his hand's grip. "Quit mocking me."

He sat up. "I'm not mocking, Janie. I'm making the bad good." His face was right next to mine and it felt like the best move was to kiss him because kissing Alex could never be wrong even if he was leaving tomorrow and I would be left here.

So, therefore, having sex with Alex could never be an issue even though I slept with Robert the night before and I would sleep with him tomorrow. I wanted relief. The only solution was Alex in me. It was memorable.

*

His excitement worried me. "You're graduating in a few months. You could join us for festival season. It'll be in all those incredible places you want to go with beautiful weather. It'll be perfect. Where do you want to go? We'll go."

Lying in his arms had always been a comfort but now I felt this inevitability of hurting him with the false hope I had given. We lied on our sides, looking at each other, his hand draped over my waist.

"I don't know what kind of job I'll have after school. I might have to stay in London."

"We should hire you. You'll be our on-the-road journalist." His smile was infectious and I wished to have similar sentiments that once the obligation of school was done then we'd be fixed. But I wasn't going to kid myself.

I fell onto my back and clutched the bedsheet to my chest. "I think I'd be a bit biased. I don't want to be a journalist anyway."

"What do you want to be then, Janie?"

I shrugged. "I'll know when it's here."

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and quickly hovered over me. "You can't lie to me, Janie. You're a writer."

"Everybody's a writer," I argued.

He bit back a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't give me that shite for 4 years ago. You're a writer. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Well," I bite my lip, "there's this magazine, Granta, that I've submitted pieces to. I don't know if I want to do the whole freelance writer thing but I like writing what I want to write."

"Do it," he urged. "I'm not just saying that because you'll be able to come on the road with us."

I side-eyed him. "Sure."

"Have faith in me. I'm always looking out for the best for you. I'm always in your corner, Jane Cavendish."

It hit me. I knew it was the truth and he had always rallied for me so deeply even when we were far away from each other. "Ditto."

Alex rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Plus, you'll be able to see us headline Glastonbury."

I laughed but he didn't correct himself. I looked over and that smug bastard smirked at me and slowly nodded his head. "Fuck off. You're joking." He wasn't. Obviously.

*

Alex left for Liverpool at 6:30 AM. He shook me out of sleep saying he'd see me in a few weeks and kissed me.

Hours later, when I woke up, I would've figured I'd dreamt it if he hadn't written a note and placed it on my nightstand.

Come to Leadmill on the 21st & 22nd. I want a formal review. —A.T.

A couple of days later, Favourite Worst Nightmare dropped, including my—to this day—only songwriting credit on "Fluorescent Adolescent." I sent a text to Alex calling him a plagiarist. He told me to look out for the royalties check.

My relationship with Robert had remained unchanged but he gave the impression he knew what I had done with Alex. We never talked about it and when I left for Wakefield on the 20th he told me to tell the band he liked the album. I kissed his cheek. He was an annoying piece of shit but he was my friend. Few people understood it but we related to one another in a way I've never related with anyone. We were twin flames and it's why I couldn't handle him for more than a night at a time. We lit each other's fires but a fire is still a fire even if it keeps you warm on a cold night and burns you the next.

In Wakefield, my parents informed me they were moving. It had little to no effects on me other than sentimentality and having to clean out my childhood room. Stacey, however, would be uprooted and for that, I hurt.

My parents' guilt-tripped generosity allowed Stacey to attend The Leadmill show—her first Arctic Monkeys concert. She was slightly aware of the ambiguity of Alex and I's relationship and over the winter had prodded me for more. No one can claim to be a bigger fan of Alex Turner than Stacey, not even myself.

I wore my Arctic Monkeys tour T-shirt purchased at the London shows and Stacey wore the one I had purchased for her (I bought them at the merch table because it felt too awkward to ask Alex or the band for one. I used to just steal them. I decided to not hold the poor merch girl at gunpoint for a shirt). I drove my car there so Alex couldn't persuade me into drinks after. Stacey's coming eliminated any funny business. I wanted to get through school before starting anything up with Alex again. If I was even going to do that. I wasn't sure yet.

The setlist had a few new inclusions and Stacey jumped around freely. It was a beautiful sight of youth to see. It's the first time I really felt old at the thought that used to be me. Then, I felt stupid. I was a fresh 21, I had no clue how old old would really feel.

After the show, we congratulated the band on a good show and said good night. Alex told me to come to his parents' house before the show tomorrow. I accepted. I missed David and Penny. They would also be a good prevention buffer.

Up in his room, we sat on his bed and talked like the old days. There was much that had happened to talk about. Alex took the news of the house selling harder than me. I guess my sentimentality had rubbed off on him but I never viewed that house in the rose-coloured view that Alex did. But moments in my room I've locked away in my heart for just him and me. Things for only my ears to hear, my eyes to see, and my flesh to feel and vice versa for him.

After the show, we sat in my car.

"I feel like we're back to being 18," I told him.

"Why?"

I laughed to shield the seriousness with which I was speaking. "These trysts of ours."

"I already told Miles so." He had come out and performed "505" with them that night.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Of course you did."

He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm still—well, I continued my thing with Robert. I'm not gonna lie to you."

"I kind of figured."

"I don't know how I feel about starting this again. Always being so far."

Alex sighed and leaned forward on his elbow on the center console. "After you've graduated that might not even be an issue."

"I'm not gonna follow you around like a puppy dog for years, Alex."

"I don't expect you to. But it could be fun this summer. After that, there'll be a break and we'll go wherever you pick. Swear it." He stuck his pinky out.

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked at his sweet face, always seeing so much with those big eyes. I loved him to pieces. Through all the struggles, there was that sweet face. So, I wrapped my pinky around his.

*

Alex was in Orlando when I graduated. He sent me a long email that is too long and personal to be printed in full here but here's an excerpt.

I think you should be a food reviewer that way we get into all the best restaurants that I'm not elegant enough to get into. Or you could just bat your eyelashes. Either would work I'm sure.

Be whatever you want. You'll be the best at it. Unless you want to do my job then stick to your day job otherwise I'll be out of one. Call me after, whenever you can. I wish I was there so imagine I am. It'll make me feel better.

He sounded like a dad. Some version of Atticus Finch morphed into a buffoon. I thought for hours about how to respond to the email. My eyes began to hurt so I just sent him photos from the day that Georgia had taken. 

Georgia hid her discrepancies with me over abandoning the flat to "run off with Alex" as she said every time I brought up my summer plans. I sublet my room with full intentions of returning in September. 

Robert was messier. We mutually seemed to agree that our sexual relationship would come to an end in May when we graduated. Robert held plans of going to New York and being a vagabond and I felt settled in London. Our activity had grown sparse after my trip to Yorkshire but didn't cease.

Two nights before graduation, I told him of my plans for the summer. He nodded along but laughed when I finished. "Whatever, Jane, be a fucking groupie all your life."

"I'm not."

He laughed maliciously at me. "I think you're scared of what comes after uni so you're clinging to this rich, successful ex-boyfriend. Play second fiddle to him. That's fine."

He was jealous. But I worried he was right.

*

I met up with the band in Dublin, which seemed fitting. It was easy to fall into the old habits of 2005 when I joined the band during the summer. However, Alex and I's relationship hadn't returned to what it had been. I slept in his bunk due to lack of space but that wasn't difficult. We struggled more with communication.

Their two shows in Dublin were messy and fanatical in the crowd. I stood backstage and listened to people singing along to a song I wrote. It didn't feel as out-of-body as I imagined and I wondered if Alex felt the same way when he heard the crowd singing along with him. 

In between their first and second show in Dublin, Alex and I escaped to Wicklow, much to the annoyance of his management who worried the whole day that he had ditched the show. We returned in time, although we did cut it close.

We hiked the Glen Beach Cliff where the ocean kissed the mountains and I knew Alex wanted to complain the whole time but he didn't. His shoes were old, the seams nearly ripped open as we hiked the 3 miles. Below us, on the beach, were seals. It felt like a different world compared to the one we had experienced last night.

As we walked downhill, Alex wrapped his arm around me and despite nearly tripping several times and knocking me down with him, I refused to let him remove the arm. 

"Are we dating again?" He asked.

It had been a largely neglected topic, mostly because I hadn't made my mind up about it. It was easy to be with Alex but being with Alex when we weren't actually with each other was frustrating. My biggest worry had always been ruining our friendship over the failure of our romantic relationship. Still, I wasn't sure of anything. "I guess."

He lightly chuckled. "That was enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry. I guess my question remains about what will happen after summer." The wind swirled around us and I tried my best to keep my hair out of my face.

"That's more a question for you than for me. You know what I want but I'm going to be happy for you whatever way you go. You know that right?" Alex has always been insistent on making sure I know he's steadfast in his support of whatever direction I decide to head and he has held true to that (mostly).

"Then, I'll need time to think about that. See what opportunities come my way this summer."

He nodded and tugged me closer. "This is over in December and then I'm all yours. Besides, I've already called you me girlfriend so you can't go back on it now."

In my sarcastic nature, I tossed my head on his shoulder, sounding, "Ugh! Don't be presumptuous, Al."

*

I got my favourite pair of sunglasses stolen at Glastonbury and I will hunt down the thief until the day that I die. Not that sunglasses were required for much of that day. The sky was dim, the ground was muddy, and it rained the whole weekend. We got there a day early to settle and like any night before a big show, it was spent drinking and horsing around late into the night.

Alex and I didn't get to bed until way past midnight and even then we had left Jamie, Matt, and other mates still fucking around. As we got ready for bed Alex had grown quiet, slow in his movements, and shrinking down into the small bed.

We laid down together and silence was awkward and he felt stiff. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," he laughed out in an effort to mask his nerves.

I curled my arm around and hugged him. I did my best to comfort him the way he always did for me. I held him tight and tried to possess a shoulder to cry on the best I could. "You know, I'll still love you even if you make a fool of yourself."

"Thanks." I leaned back to look at him as he struggled with a smile. His hand reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He held my cheek and it felt like his muscles had finally relaxed. "I'll try my best not to. I know you don't want to be stuck with a fool." 

"Aren't you already?"

He rolled his eyes and was relieved with a laugh. "Maybe only for you."

"That's so cheesy. You should be put in jail."

"As long as you were there."

I slapped a thunk onto his arm. "Stop it, you. I'll imprison you. Shush!"

He resisted my push away from him, wormed his arm under me, and landed the other over me. He wiggled us close and he felt like a preheated oven as my bones were left out to defrost. "Are you happy? Excited?"

Alex often needed me to reassure him during this period of our lives, especially after we got back together. That summer our relationship was ambiguous and it was easy for Alex to fear that at the first sign of unhappiness, I would ditch him. He wasn't exactly wrong. I wouldn't have left if Glasto sucked but if I became unhappy with Alex, it was an easy out for me. I've always appreciated easy outs.

"Yeah. I wish I had a camera. Then, I could sell them all to The Sun and make a killing."

"Is all this okay with you?" More questions. Another valid one. An undiscussed topic had often been I, an at-the-time unknown, being pulled into the public eye for my attachment to Alex. It's not like he was some tabloid superstar but it didn't leave me as a virtual unknown, especially with the band only getting bigger.

I nodded, my ear rustling against the pillow. "No stalkers. Except maybe you." He hadn't left my side since we arrived. I couldn't complain one bit. For once, I wasn't the clingy one.

He mused, "What can I say? I love you."

"Stop." Too cheesy, too cheesy.

Alex laughed into his pillow. He softened up and inched closer to me on our tiny bed. "Why didn't you bring your camera?" My photograph production had declined since college but I still held onto the habit.

I frowned. "It broke right before graduation."

"The ol’ Canon finally bit the dust,” he joked. It had been the only camera I ever owned. I used my mother’s old cameras when I took that photography class with Matt. I never bothered investing more in it than what I could borrow. “We can pick up another one."

I sighed. "Too much money. I'm an independent woman now."

"Oh, damn, you need me to be your daddy now."

I pushed him off the bed.

*

We mudded up our wellies the following day to see Amy Winehouse before the rain poured in full force again. I think it relaxed everyone to feel like we went to Glasto just to enjoy it and not actually headline it. We nodded our heads along with the songs and stood with our hands stuffed into our pockets. 

Opposing Alex's nerves, I was wracked with excitement. I went off into my own world during Glastonbury and wanted to enjoy the hippie nature and the history. I loved the whole weekend. The nights after watching The Killers and The Who and I'm pissed with Arctic Monkeys to this day for having me miss Björk to watch their stupid headline set.

Dressed in their overcoats and Matt with his Adidas track pants, their set went off without a hitch and I had fun dancing with Katie and briefly with Dizzee Rascal before he joined them onstage for "Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend." The road had and would be lonely but it was eased a little bit by having another girl by my side. When Miles came out and joined the band for "505" I thought of Eva. I hadn't talked or heard about her since The Little Flames disbanded. I shamed myself for it. I had become a person who held onto objects that reminded you of a person as an excuse to no longer see them.  The thought crossed my mind that Georgia was my only friend and I hadn't talked to her since I joined the band on the road. Then, Katie hugged me to her side and I felt a little less lonely.

I had grown desensitized to the meaning behind Alex's songwriting. I never stopped and thought about how he was singing songs that were rooted in our break-up because it no longer seemed important because we were together and how the past could affect the future. But there was this moment during "Do Me A Favour" where he had seemed rather emotional, furiously strumming his guitar and rushed singing close to his microphone. I felt ashamed for not having the same reaction as him. I felt like I was missing a gene by not crying at "Mardy Bum" or not swooning at "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" but I suppose night after night, I just became numb to the meanings of those songs. I wish I hadn't. I wish I enjoyed it more but everything felt fleeting so I made no effort to cherish moments at that age.

When they got off stage the thought had floated away and we were ready for a night of exhausted celebration. The weather was rough and the band had their casual round of press before we enjoyed drinks and party favours in the camper. Alex and I made out against the door of a porta-potty at one point. It was very disgusting.

*

I fulfilled more travel fantasies with this tour. The limitations no longer sat in Great Britain and Ireland as we moved up to Scandinavia, first stopping in Oslo. I was set loose and skipped their concert, instead visiting the Akershus Fortress and seeing "The Scream" at the Munch Museum finally returned to its home after being stolen in 2004 (although, I'm partial to Munch's "Madonna" but that's neither here nor there). In Stockholm, I continued this by going to the Vasa Museum and in the evening hiking up to Skinnarviksberget and watching the sunset, but, sadly, no Northern Lights.

We continued the festival run going through Germany and then Rock Werchter where at this point I should have broken the world record for seeing Lily Allen live as I once again watched her on the Pyramid Marquee before seeing my boys on the Main Stage.

A festival or so later, a day off was given before their Paris show, and, in a way, I finally got my Parisian dream. The hotel was nice and the toilet worked like how a normal toilet works but Alex and I shared a room. Privacy for the first time since his room in Sheffield. We did the obvious, a few times.

It's weird to put it how sex works with Alex and me. It's like a weird recalibrating device. I suspect it's because our relationship started through it that whenever we need to get back on the same page fucking seems to help. It was late and we shared a cigarette after because you can do that then in Paris. I would talk, he would smoke it, then he would talk, I would smoke it.

"You and Katie have become best mates," he said. Katie had returned back to England a few days prior and I once again was the lone girl.

"I like her a lot. She's a calm presence amongst the chaos."

"Yeah, she's done Jamie a world of good. Calmed him a bit." That was undeniably true. Jamie had always been a kind and caring guy but he had an uncontrollable craze at times and a mouth that poured at things that maybe shouldn't have been said. Katie seemed to kick him and keep him in check.

I have always been fascinated with how people change people. Somewhere at our center these people worm their way in and change your hardwiring or maybe they just expose what has always been there. "Have I calmed you?"

Alex chuckled. "Quite the opposite I think."

"Hey!" I became jokingly affronted. "I can be a calm presence. You lot are the ones who are messing around so much."

He continued to laugh at me. Eyes bright and smile light. He reached over and began to pet my hair. "I don't think calm would be the right word." I thought about hitting his chest but that would prove his point. "I just think you've made me more confident."

It was a peculiar thought to me. I didn't feel confident most of the time and I was nowhere near the confidence of going on stage and headlining festivals as a band's frontman. "How?" I asked.

He reached back to stub out the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table but he kept his hand steady on the side of my head, rubbing smooth circles. He returned closer and with a soft smile. "In a lot of ways. Your encouragement." I couldn't argue with that. Alex had done the same for me tenfold. "I feel like if you believe in me, even if I fuck up out there, you'll still be here." I wanted to always be there. I hated how life got in the way and people stayed and others went and I just wanted to stay in little corners of the world with Alex forever. But in those early years, it was an impossibility. We tried our best. 

"Plus, you're smoking hot." I rolled my eyes but I was, of course, charmed by the comment (I mean, I wrote it here for a reason. I want everyone to know he finds me smoking hot). "Do you know the power I have by having you as a girlfriend? For god's sake, Robert almost kicked my ass over you."

I pushed away from him. "Ew. Don't talk about Robert when I'm naked."

"Why? You've been naked with him."

Forces froze and I waited to see if he had more to say or if I had anything to say but we both felt chilled by the awkwardness. I slowly sat up more against the headboard and rested back against it. "Were you hurt by that?"

"What?"

"Me having sex with Robert because you don't really have a right to be pissed." I was defensive because I was in the right but I also framed his words as an attack.

Alex was slow in his response, I guess he was trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking without me biting his head off for it. "No. I mean, you're right. There's no reason to be pissed."

I wanted to know his real feelings. I knew he wouldn't shame me for doing it but I wondered if he felt the act of Robert and I's relationship was an attack against him. I played with my fingernails and we didn't make eye contact. We were two planks beside one another. "But were you?"

I peeked over. His shoulders shrugged and he looked down at his hands. We were mirror images of each other. "I don't know. I mean, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else. Truthfully, Robert annoys me so I guess that confused me or upset me more. But I love you, you know." He looked over. Insistent on this part. "And that's not going away. I figured that out a long time ago. As much as I love the idea that I get to be with you for...you know, I know that I can't get everything I want. But I want you to get all that. I want it more for you than for me. You got that?"

It took me a while to regain control. I was stuck between smiling so wide my face ripped into two and crying until my eyes fell out. I took a shaky breath. "Yeah. But I want all that for you too so you're right back to getting everything you've wanted again because I want that."

"You're always forcing me to take care of myself, Janie."

I hugged him. I needed to touch him. To hold him. I whispered into his neck, "It's 'cause I love you, you know."

*

When the tour went on break I went with Alex to Black Box Studios in Maine-et-Loire, France where he and Miles recorded the first Last Shadow Puppets album. The whole album was recorded in a matter of 2 weeks but nothing about it was rushed. The landscape was lush and the downtime felt like something out of an Eric Rohmer film.

On the last few dates of the tour, we ended up in Sydney. It was the only time during the tour that I got the urge to call my mother. I didn't because my Nokia couldn't call that far but I sent her and my father a postcard and I bought Stacey Uggs, authentic Uggs. We had a day off where we went to Bondi Beach where Matt and I braved the cold water. Afterwards, we visited the zoo where I got to hold a koala. I felt like holding a baby, except with the softest fur imaginable. Afterward, I pouted about not being allowed to own one so Alex bought me a koala stuffed animal.

A week after, the band went to play Summer Sonic in Osaka and Tokyo. I went back home for a week. It wasn't intentional, the dates just lined up that way but it felt best to skip such a rough place. Alex has a habit of embodying the mood of places based on memories. This behavior can likely only exist for a guy who has been to so many places.

I joined The Last Shadow Puppets a few days into recording. When I arrived, Miles and Alex had just returned from riding their bikes together. They looked like twins, shaggy-haired and brown-eyed boys. Alex threw his bike down and tossed his arm over to me like we were two buds, just getting off our shift at work. It filled me with endless excitement. Then, Miles came over and cupped my face, pinching my cheeks. I slapped him away and we went inside and had dinner.

At that dinner table, I could picture a whole future. Ones where Alex and I had Miles over our house, our little stray puppy. Nights where we all went out drinking and he crashed on our couch. Miles and I would both be hungover and Alex would give us painkillers and make us scrambled eggs.

Side-by-side, Alex and I brushed our teeth. It was a greater act of love than a marriage proposal.

*

I had begun to videotape these Shadow Puppets. On the morning of my second day there, Alex and I were lounging around in bed when he told me he had a little present. He came out with a camera, a Pentax 17. 

"For me?" I pointed to myself, holding the delicate thing, cradling it like my baby.

He snorted a laugh. "Who else?" He petted my hair back and he was the sweetest man who ever lived. 

In those two weeks, I didn't have many subjects. Most of the footage and pictures were of Miles and Alex. James Ford, who produced and drummed with the Puppets, made some appearances. I slipped by in a couple too. I began to develop this plan to make a documentary on the band. It fell through, mainly because when they went to do the orchestral parts of the album in December, I couldn't go, and I was also lazy. They used some of it for a 4play documentary but it wasn't the vision I had. Alex says I would have won an NME award (I have desperately wanted to win one solely for the middle finger trophy. Alex has plenty, only one on display for joking sake, but I would beg to win one. It might have been my only chance). It probably would have sucked. I've never worked with actual film to make a movie. I never worked with anything to make a movie because I've never made a movie. I will never make one either. Because I am lazy. But, I guess, I'll get through the rest of this book and stop interrupting the flow of the story by telling you I'm getting ready to write more of this book which you will read now. Or now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Now, I have filmed much more on that camera other than Miles and Alex skipping through great fields and picking daisies, although I still shoot that too. If I could submit home videos for the NME Awards, I would have won one by now.

Most afternoons we rode bikes around the tiny town. I would occasionally drop into the studio out of pure boredom but I spent the majority of my downtime writing or exploring. One afternoon, the trio of us biked by Château d'Armaillé.  It was a lofty manor contrast to the farms and livestock breeders we usually biked by. I stopped and stared as I usually do.

"Can you believe people lived in that thing?" I questioned, completely mesmerised.

Alex laughed, already pleased with his joke. "Yeah, isn't that the size of your family home?" 

*

On our last night there we had a little dinner party with everyone we had come across at Black Box Studios in the two weeks we had been there. Since this was pretty much the middle of nowhere, there were very few people. But it felt celebratory to end this little project with gloriously catered French food and playing dress-up. It was mainly an excuse for me to wear a vintage dress I had found at a used clothing store in Nantes when I was waiting for a car out to Black Box. 

It was a white drop-waist dress with a little bow on the side of my hip and a skirt with a light lace overlay. It was paired with a cloche hat that I regretfully didn't buy, but I still have the dress. Alex wore a button-down and slacks but Miles and I talked him into wearing a stupid top hat that had been lying around Black Box for the 2 weeks we were there. Alex ended up taking it home with him, although he does not still have it. Miles wore shorts, a grey T-shirt, and a bowtie. 

The food and conversations were far more important with the most delicious potatoes I've ever tasted that were mixed with a sauce that I might forever be wondering what it was but my tongue can still feel the taste. The wine was white and Alex dropped his glass on the floor halfway through the dinner, which he doesn't want me to mention, which means I totally will be mentioning it (obviously).

His arm rested on the back of my chair and our plates had long been cleared and the dessert, Gâteau Nantais (a delicious almond pound cake, soaked in rum, and topped with glaze—I really, really liked these meals), had been picked away at. I was still eating the crumbs of my second slice and Alex drank from his new wine glass. I could see futures, but for the first time, I felt like this was the future. Friends, old and mostly new, surrounded us and we drank and ate and talked and laughed and the warmth of Alex radiated on me. I was in love with everything.

"Will Jane be heading back on the road for North America?" James asked Alex. 

He turned to me with his teeth showing, smiling enough for sparks to come off it. Pride radiated off of him; it still makes me want to cry. "As of this morning, Miss Cavendish has a job with Simon & Schuester." 

When I told Alex, I was cautiously concerned that his worries would overshadow the news, but I never doubted he'd be happy for me. I got the call when he was brushing his teeth. I told him when he returned to our room and he grabbed my hands and made me jump on the bed with him. (Shall I avoid the Monkeys Jumping on the Bed joke?).

The table cheered loudly and drunkenly. "Oh, shit, I know those two boys!" Miles, sooooooo drunk, exclaimed. I bashfully tucked my chin down, avoiding the attention. 

Alex's hand skimmed over my left shoulder. He bent down to kiss my downturned cheek and it was like my crush just kissed the spot—my cheeks flushed red and my heart pounded on the gates of my ribs. 

I waved for the noise to quiet down. "It's just an editorial assistant position."

Alex squeezed my shoulder, looking over at me, and rolling his eyes. "Cut it with that rubbish, Janie. It should have been the first thing we cheers to when we sat down."

He reached for his wine glass and I shoved his arm away. "Stop it. You're flustering me." His breath smelled of Chardonnay and his behavior spelled out drunk—his bubbly drunk phase, which is the most flattering phase. He leaned over kissing my cheeks repeatedly making the table erupt in noise again. I took a grip on his face and tried to push him away.

"I've made you all red," he boasted. Alex's face was all red too but it was likely more to do with the alcohol than me. "It's time to cheers, Janie." He motioned toward my almost empty wine glass. I shook my head. "Time to cheers, Janie," he insisted. 

"You sure you aren't going to drop your glass again?" I teased.

"Oh, shut it, you," he said, but he laughed and tugged me close to him. I almost thought he was going to give my head a noogie.

He drank all the wine out of his glass before raising it. "To Jane Cavendish, Simon & Schuester Editorial Assistant."

*

I started on a Wednesday and I did little editing in my editorial position. But Helen, one of the editors, gave me old drafts they hadn't published and the book and told me to pick all the differences out and she would be quizzing me on it the next day. I went out drinking with Lee and Georgia and came in hungover the next day. Helen said I was the first editorial assistant she had that didn't fall for the quiz prank. That endeared her to me and she became my mentor.

Alex was off doing interviews about virginity for the Virgin Fest and I had never been more thankful I didn't lose my virginity to him. I used to wish that and tell Stacey when assuring her not to lose it so young. But it's probably best since I'd associate the time I lost my virginity with an interviewer from AXS Uncut asking Alex to name virgins.

I had moved back in with Georgia and her new girlfriend, Kyle, who was always a sweetheart, even if she didn't do the dishes. They weren't the annoying kind of couple to live with. They weren't loud and I never felt like the third wheel around them. It was easy for my mind to drift to Alex. I would relive the way Black Box felt. While the majority of it felt like a vacation, at its core, we were coming home each night together. The home is what we lacked on the road and the togetherness is what we lacked at home. I just thought of him being in my bed, sleeping. I always liked the way he looked sleeping.

Alex called more than he did on the last tour. I guess he had learned a lesson. Being in North America was a bit easier than when he'd been in the Eastern Hemisphere since he was only 6 hours behind. He'd call me when I got off work before he'd perform his concert and we would talk of the monotony of my day. A couple of hours later, usually while I was sleeping, he'd text me about how the concert went. It was usually only one word: "Good." "Great." "Best." "Sucked." "Wanker." "Drunk." 

We had fallen into a pattern and although it seemed dull, it was successful. My heart still ached and sometimes the sight of Georgia and Kyle made me want to stick my head in the oven, but he was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't be here.

Working felt comfortable and, for once, I eased into that comfort. I got after-work drinks with editors and fellow editorial assistants. I'd joke around with superiors at work and I'd go home to Georgia and Kyle, who had made dinner for me. Georgia was working various gigs, but still heavily focusing on poetry. Kyle worked as a set developer, which meant our living room looked like a craft store had exploded. I didn't mind. I spent most of my off-time in my room and would only venture to the living room when we watched TV together.

However, when the North American leg finished at the beginning of October, Alex dropped by, and with a clicking of his tongue and the shaking of his head, he said, "Oh, Janie. You've got glitter everywhere." He said this in front of Kyle, so I hit the back of his head and dragged him to my bedroom.

Alex's stay at our flat during October was never agreed upon, he just showed up and I'd never turn him away. A week in, however, Georgia asked me when it was just the two of us in our kitchen, early in the morning before I headed off to work, "So, is he like living with us now?"

I shrugged. "No. I mean, he'll be back on the road before the end of the month."

"How do you feel about that?" What a good therapist she would be.

"Better than last time. I'm occupied now. I don't have to worry about lying around all the time thinking of him."

"You're a big girl now, Cavendish. But if he stays past a month, he will have to pay rent."

I laughed out loud. "I doubt he'll be living here with us."

"All I’m saying is rich rockstar can pitch in on groceries."

I told Alex of this conversation and he took me to the store to point out all of Georgia's favourite food goodies and bought them for her. Georgia felt bad after that until she had Jelly Babies. Then, she insisted Alex buy groceries every week.

On Alex's last night at the flat, he bought takeaway for everyone and watched I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! with us. Several jokes were made about Alex doing the show, but I don't think Alex could eat a bug or be stuck with Katie Hopkins for a month. After dinner, Georgia and Kyle left for a "late-night poetry reading" or more likely avoid-the-lovebirds game.

Alex and I showered, changed into pajamas, and brushed our teeth together. In two parentheses, curled to bookend one another, Alex brushed his hand down my side. I told him, "I hope you get a good tan in South America."

"I'm too pale for you, Janie?"

"Maybe your butt," I giggled. It was some form of drunk-in-love. I felt rush through me every time he looked at me. It was like taking a hit.

"Wish you could come with us," he said. He was sober in his tone but his eyes were glazed over.

"Me too, but I'm happy here. I love my job and it sucks to not be with you but—"

He smiled—beamed bright and overwhelming. "But you're happy." He curled into me. My manners had transferred to him as he curled his arms around me and dug his face into my neck. "I'll be back for a week in November."

"And you'd come back here?" I questioned. There was a touch of uncertainty in everything we did that year, mostly because we had never even said we were back together and the other part was the reason for our break-up.

Alex lifted his head, his smile still showing. "Yeah." He sounded so happy and sunny. It was a cocoon of bliss. The young love I had always wanted. His fingers traced over my shoulder, making little finger drawings. His eyes looked down on his creation, avoiding my eyes. "And then we've got two shows here in December and then that last show in Manchester, which I thought maybe you could take off work and come up for. It's on a Monday so understandable if you can't."

I smiled at him but I'm unsure if he saw it due to his shy gaze dodging my face. "I'll try my best. I'll definitely be at the London ones."

His face was aglow but attentive to his finger tracing. "And then I was thinking, maybe—I don't know—maybe I'd come back to London."

I lightly chuckled. "You're not banned from the city. You're always welcome here. Georgia and Kyle like you a lot."

"I like them too but I was thinking we could stay somewhere else."

"What? Like a hotel?"

He finally looked me in the eye. "No, maybe we move in together. Like, get our own place. Maybe. It was just a thought."

It pleased me to no end. The thought wrapped its way around me the first time we slept together and over three years later to encounter the reality of it, I couldn't believe it. "A flat for just the two of us?"

"Yeah. I know you like it here but maybe we could find somewhere that I'm not finding specks of glitter all over my clothes."

I giggled all over him. "Yeah, yeah. I'd like that too. I'd like anywhere as long as you're there."

Alex shook his head with a big smile like he couldn't believe it. He hugged me, kissing my cheek, and then...then we did other stuff, you know.

*

People have asked me if Alex plays songs for me. They've imagined a world in which Alex sings me a lullaby every night. And I guess the answer is "yes" but I'd say more of a "sort of" situation. Alex would often strum his guitar to me but not in a dedicative format. It was something he would have done if I was there or if I wasn't. So, I would say he never did it for me.

Except once.

He was back in London and he had arrived late the night before. I was in my jammies and my slippers when he arrived and he made fun of me for my pajama pants that had Christmas elves printed on them. 

I was waiting on my bed for him to return from the bathroom. He came back, chilly from the lack of heating; Georgia and I weren't turning it on again this winter. He paced around my room before he asked, "Can I play you something?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like a song?"

He nodded and picked up his guitar. "I'm gonna do it on Radio 2 tomorrow. Like a little teaser for what's to come."

"So, this is a song for the next album?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." We never talked about the next thing, which was a problem and not a good choice for our reunited relationship.

Alex adjusted his guitar on his lap and sat in front of me, playing "Fire and the Thud" to me. He had never been that overtly romantic in a song before. Songs on the previous two albums never felt like love songs, but rather songs of longing or infatuation. But it felt like he had written this song for me as he played it for me. 

It would be one of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me if he didn't go on to do even more songs for me. Not to brag or anything.

After he put his guitar down, I curled my arms around his neck and yanked him down with me to lay back on the bed. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I love everything you write."

"Yeah, but you really loved this one right?"

"Sure."

*

A few weeks later, when Alex and I returned from the final show of the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour, we moved into a new flat. Together. I had picked the flat out. Alex said whatever I liked he'll like and I wasn't going to argue being the sole picker. 

We moved in at a record speed, mainly because I had very little stuff and Alex had nothing, everything still back home in his childhood bedroom. My parents had officially moved down to Bath and I had received scathing phone calls from Stacey. I still feel sorry for that poor teenage girl.

Alex and I got a studio, which I liked because it felt artsy and a total adult thing to share a studio with your boyfriend. Later, it would be the start of many fights between Alex and me because I never had any privacy.

We had our bed in one corner, the kitchen in the other, and a small bathroom down the hall. Plus, it was in Clerkenwell, which was closer to work. We had his record player on the floor and a shared dresser. It was a greater act of love than sex or writing songs. It was his things mixed with mine.

We weren't there for very long. We each went back to our family's homes for Christmas, which suddenly was no longer the same area. Our time apart was short and when we returned we cleaned up the rest of our shared apartment and decided to have a New Year's Eve party.

It was wild debauchery from start to finish. Though we provided liquor, it seemed like every guest came with their own stash. I hadn't realized how many friends Alex had in London. His number of guests heavily outweighed mine but it didn't have much of an issue. Everything was communal and it was truly a night where everyone seemed free. Maybe it was the New Year's part or maybe it was being in the start of our early 20s. When I look back on this time, I forget how young I was. 17 and slutting up the streets at Barnsley and how in 4 years, I had obtained an establishing job and lived in London with my boyfriend. It was a dream book experience and like most things it was a small portion of our lives. But I felt straight out of a movie with this ending to the year I had received. 

Katie and I hid in a corner to talk close together to avoid all the noise. We shared a drink and both drowned in heavy alcohol consumption but we loved each other very much and I knew we'd be friends forever (I was very drunk when I thought this and slurred this to her but time has held this statement to be true. Drunk words are sober futures). "I'm going to marry him," I told her. We were watching Jamie attempt to throw Alex over his shoulder, fireman-style. Alex was a sweet ragdoll, laughing about and swaying.

Jamie was the loyal rescuer. "I'm going to marry him too," she slurred back to me. "We'd be like band sisters-in-law."

"Aw," I cooed. "I don't have a sister-in-law." (I mean, I do, my brother's wife, but I was referring more to Alex being an only child and I was wildly drunk. Forgive me, Cecilia).

"Then I can be yours!"

Before midnight, only a minute or so before, Alex and I huddled up in the kitchen with our closest friends of the bunch. Matt and Jamie were arguing about who had drunk more and we all watched on laughing. I was burrowed under Alex's arm. He was the cave I chose to hibernate in this winter.

"Don't forget the beer you had before coming here," Alex egged Matt on.

"Yes! And the beer I had 'fore coming here!" Matt sloppily shouted to Jamie. 

I pulled on Alex's hand he had thrown over me. "Don't they know I'm the drunkest?"

Alex chuckled. "Yes, with that breath you probably are." He was quite sober compared to the rest of us. Mostly because he knew how drunk I would be getting and somebody had to make sure our new place didn't get destroyed. 

I pulled back, offended. "It is not that bad."

"Yes, it is," he laughed.

"So bad you won't kiss me at midnight?" I hung off of him. You'd think we were in some basement in Wakefield.

He moved his hand down to the arch of my back to steady me. "I could never not kiss you."

My eyes snapped over to him, and I raised my eyebrows with a smirk. "Really? I don't recall that being the truth."

He laughed again. "Fair enough." But then he leaned in and kissed me until way after midnight, making out in the kitchen. It was disgusting and I loved the whole thing.

Nick knocked into us as he moved through the kitchen. "I'd tell you to get a room but we're all in it." He laughed, pleased with his joke, and moved to grab another beer.

Later in the evening, Nick threw up on our bed. Nick was the drunkest. 

Somewhere around one in the morning, I sat on Alex's lap and his arms were around me, holding me close to him as I talked to Georgia on one side of the couch and Alex talked to Miles on the other side of the couch. We held separate conversations about separate lives but he held me to him and he held me tight.

*

a/n: sigh, this is all i can think about writing as of late. i am a series girl after all.

[bygone-visionary]

Hello, hello!

Just as I stated earlier, my name is Alzis Myers. I am a historian and an archaeologist, although I have not been able to do proper field work in some time. I primarily study Pokemon that were created by ancient civilizations, though that is far from the only thing I have worked on. (:

I am not a Pokemon trainer, but I do own two Pokemon.

Delphi, my Absol. She's simply a wonderful companion, and quite skilled at easing my anxieties... as well as being an ideal Pokemon to have around while I am working, for many reasons. She's wonderful, truly wonderful.

And... Atlas, my Sigilyph. The main inspiration behind my primary field of research. I caught it back during my first experiences with field work, back in university... Incredibly, incredibly odd.

It's much larger than the average Sigilyph, with a unique color variant, as well. It's been over half a decade since I caught it, and yet my knowledge on it is lacking... I suppose that is just how Sigilyph are by nature. Always so elusive and cryptic.

Other social media websites feel overwhelming and at times, hostile, in my experience, and frankly a pain to use, but I am hoping that I will be pleasantly surprised here. (I have also stumbled across a few rumors pertaining to this website, and I am very, very intrigued...)

That aside, however, I do hope at the very least, I can spread knowledge and interest in our history. I promise you all, it's worth learning a thing or two! (:

// ooc under the cut!

Hello! You mayyy recognize this guy if you've been following my stuff for a while. This is a hard reboot of his original blog (Extrasensory-absol or something I can't remember </3.) Almost none of the information from that blog is canon now! I fumbled so hard with that blog, he deserves better

ill be real I'm tired so I'm just copy pasting from Paris' blog, hang on:

Hello! This is the OOC part of the introduction! I follow from @act11as, and ooc posts will be tagged as such, and will usually have the color green.

My rotomblr "hub" account is @battle-subway-aftershow!

Muse is an adult, mod is a minor. Don't be weird, or I'll screenshot your ask and make fun of you with my friends. Into the hall of shame with you.

(Weird: NSFW/Suggestive asks, fetish mining, etc. Do not fucking do these.)

Additionally: If your main is NSFW, please do not follow me. I will block you for my own comfort.

ALL TRIGGER WARNINGS WILL BE TAGGED AS "[word] tw"! This is to make it easier to blacklist things! if I ever miss something or you need me to tag something in specific, shoot me an ask or a dm! I'll try to remember.

Guidelines/Rules I guess?

*ALMOST ANY kind of Pokemon Irl blog can interact! Eeby deebies, sapient pokemon, evil teams, whatever! I cannot guarantee that Alzis will be nice to you, however.

*Self-Insert fallers, please do not interact. I personally cannot handle these kinds of blogs. Self-insert ocs are fine, but the idea of a real person on rotomblr being isekaid into Pokémon is not.

IN CHARACTER anon hate is perfectly fine! Pester this guy he sucksssss (very affectionate.) Don't go too far, etc. etc. be civil this is a pokemon roleplaying community

Extra:

Mystery Gifts are open and preferred! Go wild! Just remember the rules!

Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are always open! Feel free to torment this guy. prone to being turned off if people begin sending live pokemon, or otherwise causing issues.

Musharna mail, (sending dreams) and Musharna malice (sending nightmares) are always on! Once again feel free to torment this guy.

Magic anons are usually off, unless I specifically specify otherwise!

Organizational tags:

#[nickname] the [pokemon] - Most posts about Alzis' pokemon should be tagged like this.

And, here's his playlist! No youtube version yet (although I hate spotify), I'll be working on that :]

[crispythehubcoon]

HELLO, THERE!

Crispy here! As I've made more and more roleplay blogs and gained more and more experience in the pokemon irl community, I've learned a few things. For one, I don't really like clogging my blogs with ooc messages. For another, sometimes communicating as the mun is necessary to help things go smoothly. And, most important of all, it's a pain in the butt to repeat the same announcement across 5+ blogs. So, I thought I'd solve all of those problems in one fell swoop by creating this blog! Here, you can find any blog of mine you might be interested in, ask me any ooc questions you like, and follow for ooc alerts/statements/commentary related to my blogs or my life. I hope this will help you out as much as it will help me!

Tags I will use:

#pinned - pinned posts from my blogs

#announcement - standalone posts that will communicate important things, including life events that might interfere with my blogging or any rule changes.

#ask - any ask I am sent here

#ask game - I'll store ask games here for later use. I don't reblog them to receive asks here unless stated otherwise! Feel free to reblog from here without sending an ask in return, I don't mind!

Trigger warnings will be tagged as I see fit. Feel free to ask me to tag anything! It will be in a triple format; #tw [trigger] #[trigger] and #[trigger] warning. Just to make sure no one sees anything they don't want to.

More tags will be added as needed :) enjoy your stay!

Blog Directory

@ballonleastadiumofficial - my interpretation of Bede from pokemon SWSH! He is a perpetually 15 year old trans boy who leads Ballonlea's gym with only moderate interference from Opal. The rotumblr populace is free to poke, prod, and annoy him as they please. Sometimes Opal, the gym trainers, or Bede's pokemon may make appearances on his blog.

Current arc: Bede is trying his hardest to deny the fact that he has a crush on his best friend. It isn't going well.

@gmax-butterfree - my Galarian bug type gym leader OC, Hemmi. They try their hardest to look cool and appeal to other trainers, but they are really awkward at heart. The blog explores their passion for bug type pokemon and insecurities about being in Galar's minor league.

Current arc: N/A

@pixieprince - my interpretation of Ortega from pokemon SCVI. He's here to speak his mind and deliver the hottest takes this side of the great crater. ...And maybe to be there for his friends, but don't say that part out loud. Feel free to strike up a conversation! He will probably act abrasive, but he doesn't totally mean it.

Current arc: Ortega has recently come into possession of both a Furfrou puppy and a newborn Milcery. Can he handle the responsibility?

@when-lechonk-learn-levitate - my Naranja-Uva student OC who loves all things that oink! Her name is Samrah, and her main concerns are growing up alongside her little brother, determining her path in life, and spreading the love for pig pokemon. Her enthusiasm knows no bounds, and she's itching for a friend to share it with.

Current arc: Samrah's scrambling to gather willing student participants for her to start a Lechonk Fan Club at Naranja-Uva. Maybe she can find some like minded trainers on rotumblr...?

@medicalmystery7 - a faller blog for Medic from Team Fortress 2! Dr. Ludwig has been spat out in the pokemon world by unknown means with no memory to fall back on... just a pocket full of syringes and a Pidove named Archimedes. Honestly, it's not the worst situation he's ever found himself in, and he's making the most of it by applying his ingenuity and general disregard for human decency toward pokemon battles.

Current arc: After being fired from his job at a Nacrene City pokemon center, Medic is hiding from the authorities at an undisclosed location in Unova.

@macrocosmos-social - a Chairman Rose blog meant to compliment @ballonleastadiumofficial. It's meant to allow Rose to answer questions that Bede would never be caught dead answering and shed some light on Bede's upbringing that led him to become the person he is today. Oh yeah, it's also meant to allow me to roleplay being an insufferable jerk. Exploring perspectives like that is fun. Here, Rose has bribed his way into getting internet access from jail and is making it everyone else's problem. He is using an old, failed corporate account designed by a public relations worker for Macro Cosmos long ago. That original creator of the blog, the Rotom in Rose's device, and Oleana may make brief appearances on this blog.

This blog is a villain blog and thus will act in cruel, antagonistic ways. In particular, Rose is noticeably classist and transphobic. He acts this way to blend into the narrative I have in mind for Bede. If this might upset you, please feel free to block! If it sounds interesting, please feel free to interact! I will tag anything I believe people might find upsetting, in particular #tw transphobia, #transphobia, and #transphobia warning.

Current arc: N/A

@beauty-abuzz - my interpretation of Burgh from pokemon BW2! He is Castelia City's eccentric, dreamy, and impulsive gym leader with a heart of gold. Currently, he is engaged to @elite-four-grimsley

Current arc: wedding planning!!!!

@pokemonworld-ology - A faller blog for the Lodger/Bormot from Knock-Knock by IcePickLodge! Coming from an isolated cabin deep in the woods, Bormot is a stubborn, matter of fact, and extremely troubled scientist who mysteriously emerged into the Slumbering Weald after taking a fateful walk through the forest. Now, he is staying as a guest in the home of Emelia, mother of Gloria, Galar's own champion, and trying to wrap his head around both pokemon as a whole and modern human interaction. Emelia and Gloria may rarely make appearances on this blog.

Current arc: Bormot is getting his first pokemon! ...Eventually. Once he fully grasps the concept.

OOC Notes

I do my best to keep my blogs inclusive, bipoc friendly, trans friendly, pro-Palestinian, and generally safe and friendly spaces!

If you disagree with any of these values, please move along! If I've unknowingly done anything to betray these values, please let me know immediately. I'm not perfect, but I'll always try to improve 🙏

No NSFW asks or interactions are permitted on any of these blogs

Non-negotiable, especially on blogs with muses who are minors. That said,

Any and all other interactions are welcome and encouraged!

If I don't get to your ask/reblog, it's more than likely for a personal reason, rather than you doing anything wrong. I struggle with many a mental illness, which makes staying on top of everything difficult. I love meeting new blogs and participating in other people's stories!

All of these blogs accept Pelipper Mail and In Character Anon Hate. Magic Anons are restricted to events only.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to send an ask with any questions you may have!

[thoscheienjoyer]

A cute little story about the 3rd Doctor and his Master being forced to dance together during an alliance. Bonus points for the almost kissing trope!

The Doctor stepped into a ballroom with the Master following close behind, the ambiance of the music matched their tension. Shapeshifters had forced the pair into an unwanted and unlikely alliance, the Master can't rule earth if it's been taken or destroyed by someone else, he had said when asked. The Doctor adjusted his jacket as his eyes scanned the room searching for any sign of the alien threat. "Remember," he said quietly, "we can't let it slip away. We need to blend in."

His temporary companion snorted, his disdain evident. "And your brilliant plan to blend in involves what, exactly?"

"Why, dancing of course, what else?" The man chuckled, like it was the obvious solution.

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, but I am. If we just stand here, we'll draw attention. The alien will notice and flee." The Doctor offered a hand and the Master sighed dramatically before taking it. "Very well, Doctor. But if you step on my toes—"

The Doctor interrupted with an eye roll. "Yes, yes, I'll lead." He offered. The Master scoffed and had the urge to pull his hand away but he managed to stay still. "What makes you think you should lead?"

"I'm taller," the Doctor pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and after a moment's hesitation, the Master reluctantly agreed. They began to dance on the floor and sway seamlessly into the crowd. The Master, true to his nature, kept occasionally "accidentally" stepping on his dance partner's foot, getting an annoyed expression each time. Despite the minor sabotage he couldn't help but be impressed, the Doctor moved with surprising grace and confidence.

Without warning, the other timelord spun him out and then pulled him close before leading into an elegant dip. The Master's eyes widened in shock and humiliation as he found himself bent backward, supported only by the Doctor, he clung on expecting to be dropped. Laughter and applause erupted around them, adding to his mortification.

"I wouldn't drop you" the Doctor laughed as he brought the Master back up.

He glared, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You enjoy this while it lasts but my next scheme will make these aliens seem like a minor inconvenience." It was a threat, funny being in this state.

"Promises, promises," the Doctor teased and scanned the room again, this time he actually caught something. There was a suspicious figure standing near the refreshment table. He nodded discreetly towards the Master. "There. By the punch bowl." He whispered.

The Master followed his gaze and spotted the alien. "I see it. Let's go." They disentangled themselves from the dance, moving with purpose towards their target. Despite their bickering and the Master's bruised ego, they were a formidable team when united against a common foe. They neutralized the threat and the guests assumed it was part of the evening's entertainment.

"Well, that was a fun collaboration," the Master remarked smoothing back his hair. And the Doctor nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Indeed. Good work, Master."

The Master paused but there was a glint of reluctant respect hidden in his eyes.

The Doctor cleared his throat and began to speak "you know, we never did finish our dance."

His old friend looked at him confused. "Doctor, the threat is neutralized. There's no need to continue."

Once again the Doctor offers a hand. "Consider it a farewell if you like." And once again the Master hesitated before taking it. He sighed, a small almost smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. But just this once." The music had slowed to a gentle waltz as they moved to the dance floor once more. The Master placed his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, while the Doctor rested his hands on the Master's hips.

The dance was slower this time, more intimate. The Master found it embarrassing, but a quick glance around the room reassured him that if anyone dared to mock them, he could easily handle the situation. Their faces were close, closer than he was comfortable with and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them in their private bubble of time and space. For a moment, an unspoken tension rose to the surface, daring them to draw their faces even closer. The Master's hearts raced, and he could see the Doctor's eyes flicker with something he didn't know. It was almost as if they might-

The Master abruptly pulled away, flushing with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Well, Doctor, this has been... enlightening. But I really must be going."

The Doctor watched him all while feeling unresolved. "Until next time, Master."

He nodded and then turned on his heel to stride out of the ballroom, he was eager to escape the confusing whirlwind of emotions in him. The Doctor stood there for a moment, watching the Master retreat and trying to process what almost happened too. The dance had been more than a cover and it was a dance they seemed to be destined to repeat in their eternal game of cat and mouse.

[inlovewithalotoffandoms]

Ski lodge trip||Part 2

Steve Rogers x teen!daughter!reader

Natasha Romanoff x teen!daughter!reader

Other parings: Josh Matthews x reader

Warning: Overprotective Steve, kissing, cuteness.

Authors Note: Hi everyone! It's finally here! I am so sorry for the long wait. I have been really busy and haven't had the chance to finish this one, as well as not having the best storyline figured out at that time. But now that it's here, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you all for reading my fics. I really appreciate it.

"What the hell is that?" You asked as Bucky brought out a book.

"This, this is a game we're gonna play. It's called the official guide to who belongs with who." Bucky replied.

"The book's gonna tell us?" Josh scoffs with an eye roll.

"No! I remember that book. That book, is evil." Tony states as his eyes widen in horror at seeing the book again. He then continued,

"The first question is 'If you could change your mate into one animal, what would it be' and the only answer is 'the falcon'."

Bruce and Peter look at him in disbelief.

Steve stares at Tony, "How would you know that?"

Tony glances between everyone in the room and exclaims, "Because I am the Falcon!"

"Of course you are," Nat mumbled. You and Josh glanced at each other, grinning.

"Let's play!" You state, walking over to the couch Josh was sitting on and cuddled up to him.

"Let's find out who belongs with who," Josh says, wrapping his arm around you.

"Don't do it, nobody do it," Tony exclaims, trying to stop this from happening. Only to be ignored by everyone.

"No one ever listens to the falcon." He says to himself as he sat down with everyone else.

"Question number one," Bucky started.

"If you could change your mate into one animal-" You interrupted Bucky, but he interrupted you back.

"Uh, that's not the question," Bucky states. Everyone looked confused, especially Tony.

"The first question is, 'The most important part of any meaningful relationship is, A, romance'." Bucky continued.

"Yes, romance. Isn't that the whole point of a relationship?" Peter says. Tony rolled his eyes,

"It says any relationship. It doesn't just mean you and MJ." Bruce nodded in agreement,

"Yeah, it also means relationships with your friends."

Nat sighed, "So if the answer isn't romance, what else you got?" 

"B, adventure," Bucky says.

"Yes, adventure. Break the rules." Sam nods. Bucky rolled his eyes,

"You don't have to break the rules to have an adventure."

"What do you have against breaking the rules, Sargent Barnes?" Sam asked.

"That's who he used to be, Sam. Cost him years of his life. I think maybe he's learned something." Steve states.

"Read the other choice?" Josh says to Bucky.

"How do you know there is one? " Bucky smirked.

"In multiple choice, there are always close answers, but then there's the correct answer, and as soon as you hear it, you know it's right." You state a matter of factly.

"And I don't think we've heard the right answer yet, so I know the most meaningful part of any relationship is C." Josh grinned.

"C, conversation." Bucky smiled. You and Josh smiled at each other, kissing for a couple of seconds, cuddling up to each other again after the kiss ended.

"I love these now." You say.

"How come?" Steve asked, knowing how you didn't really like hugs.

"Because Tanya and I have had so many good conversations now that I think she trusts me," Josh says. You smiled and mumbled a small, 'I do.' Seeing how sweet Josh was being with you warmed Nat's heart. Seeing her daughter with someone she feels happy and comfortable with makes her happy. Steve, while still being the overprotective father, was starting to warm up to your relationship with Josh.

"So the most meaningful part of a relationship is talking to each other?" Peter asked.

"And with the right person, sometimes you can talk all night," Tony states.

"Yup, maybe so. Well, if y'all will excuse me, I'm gonna go over there to maybe, I don't know, kick a tree." Steve states, getting up and walking outside. Bucky sighed, giving the book to Bruce as he said, "Will y'all excuse me? I'm going to go over there to maybe, I don't know, save a tree." following Steve outside.

"You know what? I'm through playing games. I want to talk to you." Pepper states.

"Who?" The people still in the room asked curiously, at the same time as she grabbed Tony's hand, dragging him to another room. You and Josh had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you smiled and ran upstairs to the room you were bunked in together.

"God help us all," Bruce mumbled as he rubbed his temple in utter annoyance and disapproval.

After a couple of hours, Steve and Bucky came back inside.

"Where's Y/N and Josh?" Steve asked. Bruce and Peter glanced at each other in second-hand embarrassment.

"Up there," Peter states, pointing to one of the rooms upstairs. Steve's eyes widen in disapproval.

"Oh, hell no!" He exclaimed as he ran up the stairs.

[crazycurly-77]

Hey, Ms. Secret Service! - Chapter 12

After waiting nearly a week, the planning of the flight back could begin. Your passenger made himself known in presence, but without any name, because that were the rules. No questions, no names. But he didn't have to say his name, since you already recognized him. He was the second in command of one of the biggest drug cartels in Colombia, Santiago.

You gulped. That was a big game changer. But you had to go through that, no matter what. So you observed and listened, while Aaron and Santiago discussed the shipment and the conditions and then you took part concerning the flight. 

After all, your passenger stated that he waited for boxes full of guns, which had to be delivered, too. So you had to wait 3 more days. Sure, you were only waiting so far, but the danger to be discovered raised with every minute you two stayed there. And because of that you were anxious to be on your way as soon as possible. But you had not a good feeling about what will happen, when you had landed and there were many FBI agents waiting. That could easily result in a blood bath. 

You had to make things work out somehow and finally you had an idea “we will get a large bag and put it in the farest back of the plane behind all the boxes. There you should be safe. We will put some clothes above you for proof and then we will say that this is my clothes bag and because I am a woman, it is a bigger one.”

Aaron thought a little about this and then murmured “yes. Yes, I think that could work. But then I'm not able to help you.”

“Sure, but since he knows you, you have to hide and there's not much place in there” you shrugged your shoulders. 

“Okay, then so be it. But I will try to get free in case you need help.”

“Good. But please, no higher risk than there already is.”

Aaron and you discussed and finalized it and were slowly getting anxious for the flight back. 

Meanwhile in Washington…

…was Abby standing in front of Gibbs’ desk fidgeting with her hands “Did you hear anything from Y/N? How long ‘til she's coming back? Is everything okay? Is she still alive?”

He exhaled “Abby…”

“No, no. You have to tell me, Gibbs. I feel like I'm going mad waiting for any information.”

“Yeah, me too” came from DiNozzo. 

Then Tim and Kate joined them in questioning Gibbs. 

Jenny had seen this as she was already on her way to Gibbs to tell them the news. And before he could say a word, Jenny spoke up “listen. I just received news from Y/N.”

Since she said this with a stern face, everyone stood at attention and looked at her. 

Then she continued “the flight back will be tomorrow. Aaron, her contact, will be in the plane, too. But…Santiago changed the plans. He will be in the plane, too. And besides the drugs, they will additionally transport firearms. The FBI will await them at the airfield, let's hope for the best.”

With that she turned and went back to her office. 

They all stood there dumbfounded and looked at one another. It took Gibbs to shake them back to reality “get back to work. Now” he ordered them. 

Then he tried to concentrate on the file he was reading himself, but all of his thoughts were concern for you, so he didn't catched a word. 

Back in Colombia… 

Finally the day of the flight back has arrived. On one side you were happy that the mission was nearing the end, but on the other side this was the part which was the most dangerous. You both hoped very much that all will go well, but you never knew. 

So this morning Aaron and you went to the plane to prepare the take-off. You did the pre-flight check and Aaron went hiding in the back of the plane in the big bag. 

Shortly after Santiago and the other cartel members arrived. They didn't greet you, but searched if you had any weapons. As they found none, they began to load the plane, Santiago got in and you started the engine. After the lift-off there was no turning back. Your thoughts drifted shortly to the team and friends and especially to Jethro, but you had to concentrate. So you stared out of the cockpit windows and hoped for the best. 

The flight was in complete silence, but nothing happened, too. Until then everything was good. You spoke with the tower, got landing permission for Runway 1 and landed safely. 

Suddenly a gun was held on your head and you heard “stay quiet and roll to the hangar with the cars in the front.” You gulped, nodded and did as you were told. Then you came to a stop in front of the hangar in question where several men with two cars and a truck were waiting. 

They started to unload the boxes, all the while with you in the cockpit with a gun at your head. You tried to spot the colleagues from the FBI, but you didn't see any hint of them. “I hope that they are there and will be faster than the criminals around me” you thought. 

All of a sudden you noticed that more men went from the plane to the truck, than were coming back. 

“That's them! They are silently decimating the gangsters!” you inwardly danced around in happiness. Hope and help were still alive. 

Then everything happened very fast. Aaron had managed to free himself and climbed towards the cockpit and hit Santiago the gun out of his hand. It went off, but hit the metal. Santiago was knocked out by Aaron and the colleagues from the FBI stood around the plane. That was a really, really close call.

(To be continued...)

----------------------------------------

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

---------------------------------------

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

----------------------------------------

[prythiansfavoritefox]

The first time he went back --> Tamcien, ACOFAS

"Tamlin." Lucien's face was carefully neutral, his limbs loose, nothing in his scent or his body language giving away anything about how he felt to be standing before his once High Lord again.

"Lucien." Tamlin was relieved, at least, to see that his old friend had not adopted the Night Court fashion, opting for a blue and silver tunic instead. "I see you've been keeping this place clean in case I decided to come back," he said sarcastically. Then, there was a strong scent of rust and embers as Lucien began using his magic to move some things around. "There. At least it's somewhat livable now. Don't you have servants, Tamlin?"

Tamlin didn't fail to notice that Lucien called him by his full name rather than by his nickname. Lucien had called him Tam practically from the moment he'd arrived despite Tamlin's insistence that he show him the respect due of a High Lord, and decorum, blah blah blah. After some point, he stopped fighting it because he liked that Lucien had a special name only for him.

"Some. Most are too scared to question the state of the place. Many have left." Tamlin stared blankly at a wall. He had no fight left in him. All his anger had left him the moment he'd brought Rhysand back to life. There was no one left to be angry at. Nothing left to fight for.

Feyre had ruined him, and yet Tamlin had done that. Why? Why did he still love her? Why did it still hurt that she chose him? How long would she be able to hurt him?

As long as he loved her.

But how did he make it stop? How did he make this love go away, stop it from carving his heart out of his chest?

"You ignored me. After the war." That's what Lucien wanted to talk about? Surely he'd understood how painful it was to see him in Illyrian leathers, how painful it was to see him so quickly accepted as part of another group, how painful it was to see him away from him. For the longest time, Lucien had been his, and his alone. Now he had a mate and a whole other court and family. He wondered now if he had possibly taken Lucien for granted.

Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-

Little did either of them know how those words would turn out to be prophetic. Fitting, he supposed, with that seer mate of his.

"The sight of you in Illyrian leathers disgusted me," Tamlin replied dully. Lucien snorted. "What else was I to do? I didn't have anything else to wear; all my clothes were back here."

"You could've just stayed with me," Tamlin replied. A stupid thing to say, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Rhysand would never understand and appreciate Lucien's value like Tamlin could.

Lucien leaned back against a wall, putting his hands behind his head. "Right. And continue to watch you listen to the female who raped me over me, the person who not only loyally served you for centuries, but has connections to every damn court in Prythian. If I had a little more power, I could rule this whole damn place, I know so much."

Tamlin snarled. "Don't remind me of that. Believe me, I am well aware of my transgressions."

"Then surely you see why I had to leave. Even if my mate were not trapped in Night, your attitude would've eventually prompted me to leave."

My mate. The words sent shards of glass into his heart. "The mating bond is a curse," he rasped. It had to be. Why else would it mate his parents together, Rhysand's parents together, and his Feyre with Rhysand? Why would it mate Lucien with Elain, thus taking his Lucien away from him?

"The mating bond is a blessing from the Mother herself," Lucien insisted.

"Don't just blindly spit back the bullshit the temple taught you," Tamlin snapped. His claws emerged from beneath his skin, trembling rage filling his body. "God can offer us many beauties, sure, but we already know that She can also be cruel. Is it really so hard to believe that the mating bond is not what it's made out to be? Imagine a bond compelling you, forcing you to be with someone you don't want forever."

"Who said I don't want Elain?" Lucien whispered. Tamlin stilled. Those glass shards twisted in his heart a little bit more. "You think it's just a bond compelling me to stay with her? I thought you more intelligent than that, Tam." Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, slumping against his chair. Heartbreak was all too familiar a feeling to him at this point.

"Look, Tamlin, I'm trying here," Lucien said, his voice sounding as though he were repressing some emotion. "I know it hurts, Tam. Please, let me help you. Don't push everyone away like you always do. Don't try to go it alone."

Tam.

As though drawn by a magnet, Tamlin's eyes lifted to Lucien's. The handsome lord stared at him with an earnestness that threatened to melt all that Tamlin was into nothing. He could never resist that soft look, and that wasn't about to change.

At last, he lost control. His shoulders caved in and he began to cry into his hands.

"Tam." Lucien closed the distance between them, kneeling before him. He placed his palms on Tamlin's cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry," he murmured. "I'm here. I am here, I am with you."

Tamlin sniffed. "You should hate me."

His former emissary gently pulled him by the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. "I know," he answered quietly. "But I don't."

He pulled away, offering a hand to stand up. "You look terrible, Tam. Have you been sleeping enough?"

Sighing, Tamlin shook his head. "Not really."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Go sleep, Tam."

Tamlin just crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Lucien raised a brow at him, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You think because you're the High Lord, you can do whatever the hell you want. Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-"

The Spring Court lord grinned as the words sparked a far more pleasant memory of the two of them, leaping up in an instant. "As you wish, Lucien." The Autumn Court faerie smirked as he placed a hand on Tamlin's back, guiding him to the bedroom.

After tucking him in, Lucien was about to leave the room when Tamlin called out weakly, "Lu?"

He turned around, cocking his head. "Tam?"

Tamlin hesitated, a blush coming over his face. "Do you think- well could you...stay with me?"

Lucien sighed exasperatedly. "Just sleep, Tam."

"I can't. I've been trying for the past several days." Lucien took a deep breath, pinching his nose. "Fine. But don't expect to see me here when you get up."

"Ok." Lucien strode towards him and hopped onto the bed, leaning his head against the bedframe. Tamlin crawled towards him, placing his head on his lap. Lucien just scoffed.

"What are you, a six-year-old child?" he asked, but he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. Tamlin purred.

"After all this time, you still purr like a goddamn kitty cat whenever someone touches your hair," Lucien muttered, and those were the last words Tamlin heard before sleep overtook him at last.