#I'm hurting him by sitting on my deck while he's stuck in THERE

[cobrajuincy]

I hear the piteous rworwl and I turn and I See Him

and now I must spread his image for others to see lest he fucking GET me

#PLEASE he needs so much love #I'm hurting him by sitting on my deck while he's stuck in THERE

[girlbossblackbeard]

S2 TRAILER ANALYSIS WITH 1 BILLION SCREENSHOTS

obligatory warning that this post is gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO foolishly long and rambling with all my silly little theories and thoughts and if you ALSO have silly little theories and thoughts you should ABSOLUTELY share them here please!!!! we can clown so much harder when our cacophonous honking harmonizes!!!!!!!

NOW ONTO THE POST (putting it under a read more so tumblr doesn't literally explode):

-the revenge looks BUSTED AF: i don't know if this is from general disrepair when ed is in his kraken era or if she was in a battle but her sails are all dirty in the opening shot of the trailer, and later we see stede on her deck with tattered sails and ropes everywhere, AND i'm like 99% sure that the shot of buttons ziplining from one ship to another is him going from the Chinese warfleet ship to the revenge, which i'm guessing is essentially stuck bc the sails are so torn they would never be able to catch the wind strongly enough to move her. I also wonder if the shot of roach shooting a canon at something is him shooting a canon at her since we had all those allusions to her exploding from samba, vico, and david on twitter all those months ago

-stede's earring: he DOES NOT HAVE THE EARRING when we see him lying on the deck next to roach and sighing dramatically nor does he have it during his conversation with Olu about stede dumping him, but he DOES have the earring in later shots like the beach english fight and when he's talking about being a failure his whole life which means WE WILL GET TO SEE STEDE GET HIS EAR PIERCED!!!!!!!!!! we'll get to see him make the decision to look even hotter and who knows who does the piercing for him idk!!!!!! @sluterastede had a dastardly beautiful thought in her brain about ed giving stede the piercing and stede making groaning noises and izzy once again thinking they're flapping their jacks right there on the deck in front of god and everybody!!!!!

-stede is spilling his heart out ("i let him down. i should've just told him how i feel") to susan on her ship (you can tell it's her by the long hair)

-interesting that there's a drawing of a donkey next to ed's wanted poster considering s1 had the line "a rich donkey is still a donkey". also i can't really read what the surrounding posters say other than "WANTED 20 GUINEAS". is this in the republic of pirates?

-stede says "i will find him" meaning ed may be actively avoiding stede at the beginning of the season???? (or the basic laws of travel physics have finally caught up to them)

-"look, captain, you know blackbeard's gonna murder you" i just think it's interesting that Olu is referring to him as blackbeard again even though ed told everyone in his pink robe era to call him ed. like it makes sense that he'd say blackbeard considering ed is on a rampage but it just made my brain wheels start spinning

-the Kraken crew are eating cake :)

-ed is holding a torch while letting the storm rain down on him: i don't think the laugh we hear is his because i don't think his mouth is even open during that slow-mo shot

-STEDE with a TEAR in his EYE as he says "i think i hurt him pretty bad"

-ed sobbing on the floor while the little bride cake topper is next to his head

-ed choking on the weed smoke i'm ACTUALLY crying, but also: where the fuck is ed when he's sitting in the chair smoking??? i thought it was on deck at first bc above his head is really dark and it looks like the lanterns we see on the deck of the revenge but there's a chandelier too?? it might be whatever shop Anne Bonny and her friend "you two know each other?" run bc behind ed in that chair is just a bunch of random furniture and a chandelier like we see when ed and stede are at the market. in fact, i think ed is smoking with Anne Bonny because I think that's her hand in the corner of that shot:

-"no more booze, no more drugs, and no more _____" not sure what the end of that sentence could be but we know that the "stede" that was put in there is NOT what he actually says!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-"you two know each other?" now hold on a sec because it kinda sounds like stede met Anne Bonny and Co. separately from Ed/before that market scene (maybe in the teaser clip of Anne on Stede's lap??) WHAT IF WE GET THE AITA SCENARIO WHERE ED AND STEDE TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR VERSION OF EVENTS AND NO ONE REALIZES THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT EACH OTHER UNTIL THAT MOMENT BC THEY'RE BOTH SO BIASED ABOUT ONE ANOTHER

-the evil guy definitely got his nose sliced off by Jackie. good for her :D I also don't think the evil guy is Hornigold, i'm still holding onto my theory that the man in the white rags we saw in the teaser and this trailer is hornigold's "ghost" that ed needs to contend with to find his inner peace or whatever a la stede with nigel's "ghost". but i DO think the evil guy is the rich prince dude from that leaked audition tape from rhys's friend. if memory serves, the guy wants to buy his way into the pirate lifestyle but he's pompous and entitled which makes him reckless. based off the production stills we also got today, he still had a nose when he went into Spanish Jackie's...but i don't think he leaves with one. so because he gets butthurt over invading a space that was NOT meant for him and faces the consequences of purposely disobeying their customs, he defects to the english navy and goes on a rampage against all piracy, very MRA energy :/ also, later izzy says to him "you don't know the first thing about piracy" which would further support that this guy just tried to buy his way in

-izzy gets an honest-to-god pegleg but he doesn't start the season off with it because we see him in several shots with both legs, like the wedding raid and swordfighting stede on the beach. unsure if he loses it due to infection from the toe situation or if he gets shot in the knee like i've seen some posts talk about, but @sluterastede mentioned that one of the leaked audition tapes for archie included dialogue about an amputation so maybe that character has to uh. Get Her Roach On

-as i mentioned before with the teaser analysis, izzy is clearly training stede for something and now im guessing it's the english but like we kinda knew that !

-olu is in a bar fight??

-THE "ED GETS CAUGHT IN A BUCKET ON A ROPE DURING THE STORM AND GOES OVERBOARD" THEORY IS OUT. THE "ED TIES HIMSELF TO A MF BIG ASS ROCK AND JUMPS OFF A GOD DAMN CLIFF TO GO ON SOME SOUL-SEARCHING JOURNEY UNDER THE SEA" THEORY IS IN. and what the FUCK is the rag man doing with ed up on that cliff hello?????? if my theory is correct and that is in fact hornigold's ghost or whatever, what advice or harmful shit is he saying that makes ed do that?????????????????????? but do note the large rock with the rope around it in the first pic

-the revenge crew is blowing up SOMETHING on the side of a building. maybe to cause a distraction or gain access inside the building? is it the side of Spanish Jackie's?? also hiiiiiiii lucius <3

-"our entire escape relies on this" i'm just assuming they're trying to escape from the english bc that seems to be the Big Bad of the season??

-not plot related but during the rope swinging training session izzy slaps stede on the ass and makes this face (sir??????):

>he also has his pegleg here so their mentorship may ramp up after izzy is out of commission for hand-to-hand combat. maybe izzy was supposed to have a larger fighting role alongside ed in defeating the english but once he became incapacitated he realized he would need to train someone else up for the job so ed would be sufficiently protected. but it also had to be someone izzy knew would be willing to die for ed to save his life if it came to that, just like izzy would

-"i've been a failure my whole life. it's not so bad once you get used to it" is stede talking to ed here? is that ed's hair in the corner of the frame??

>side note: as mentioned above, stede also has his earring by this point!!

-"you're going through that 'if i was a regular dude' phase" first of all, SPANISH JACKIE AND EDWARD TEACH BEST FRIENDS TRUTHERS RISE UP. second, why would ed be considered a regular dude now?? how did he lose his reputation? did he willingly give it up or was it taken from him? is this permanent or just temporary? or did he fake his own death with the cliff and the rock thing so he could retire and live a more normal life?? the swede doesn't seem scared of him at all in the final clip from the trailer, straight up asking him if he's poor and going "back to basics". of course, that could just be a power trip from being one of Jackie's newest husbands (or at least her waitstaff)

-possibly totally minor/just a continuity error thing, but: ed has a red ring. we saw it in s1 as he picks up the rather fine cashmere and we see it as ed dramatically drapes himself across the ship's helm with his head on his hand. we do not see it in the scene where he's smoking (see above) or the scene where he's talking to the rabbit. now, if you'll allow me a little bit of clownery for a moment, red has been explicitly coded in this show to be a symbol of love/the heart, especially as it pertains to edward like his red silk scarf as a metaphor for his heart in s1. what if. what if he. gave the red ring (his heart) to. SomeOne. because.....................because his heart belongs to st--[GUNSHOTS]

-olu, jim, and archie with garlic around their necks and making a cross with their fingers - clearly they think someone is a vampire on the ship. @sluterastede proposed it could be izzy, especially if he's on the brink of death due to an infection and frenchie managed to spread his superstitions to other people on the ship!

-THIS FUCKIN GUY. WHO ARE YOU??? it seems like he kidnaps stede and his crew and throws a party on the ship and drugs the drinks which is why everyone is kinda tripping/laughing in some parts. but then everyone gets tied down (stede to the mast, wee john's hands get squished, olu and roach's heads get squished, and jim and archie's feet get secured to the ship's railing i think??). also that wide shot is definitely the rando dude hitting some shrill high note at the same moment the revenge crew cry out in pain from all the squishing (except maybe jim and archie - they might just be laughing at the others bc they're badasses and this pain is nothing). also don't know what the guy is looking at when we first see him but im thinking maybe it's a wanted poster of stede and he's looking at the description of the gentleman pirate to confirm it's the dude right in front of him/that he's captured?? also i think roach is wearing flowers from the drug party in his apron when he fires that canon, so maybe he's tripping too and shoots a canon?? i need a prayer circle for the revenge's safety at this time

-stede has a bullet hole???????????????? did ed fucking shoot him in the heart?????????????????????????? he also notably does NOT have the earring in this scene but he does have the sexy stiddies (blue) shirt like we see in the other shot where he DOES have the earring. maybe this weirdo dude pierces stede's ear bc he thinks stede needs to look more piratey?? or stede gets absolutely sloshed (or drugged) and gets his ear pierced idk !!! maybe jim does it bc they're effortlessly cool and has a bunch of ear piercings!!!

-idk if this is a coincidence or not but i'm pretty sure stede in his training scenes with izzy is wearing the clothes he wore in that final shot of s1 as he rows to find the crew on the island (white linen shirt, dark pants, brown belt and boots). so either costume changes are happening later in the season, they're reusing outfits like normal people do, or the training montage happens extremely early on in the season

-so originally with the teaser trailer i thought ed falling in the water was followed by the shot of ed coming out of the water on the beach. i don't know if i fully believe that anymore because ed is NOT wearing his jacket on the cliff (see above), but he IS wearing it as he comes up out of the water, so either it's two different events and ed just spends a lot of time in the water this season or he puts his jacket on before jumping off the cliff

-ed his holding his right side as he slashes that dude on the beach so he definitely got hurt in battle but i hope it's not him getting stabbed bc ur supposed to cleverly take the sword on the left where all the unimportant bits are :(((

-I VERY STRONGLY BELIEVE that the person in the scene where stede turns around and shoots his gun into the air and everyone else on deck suddenly draws their weapons against that person is our boy lucius!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's wearing a beret?????????? @sluterastede proposed that lucius got picked up by the english navy after getting thrown overboard and that's why we see him in the english navy garb (which we later see frenchie in too?? i believe an infiltration fuckery is afoot). also the fact that the shot immediately after this one is of Black Pete doing a happy little fist pump which i'm choosing to interpret as a cute little easter egg symbolizing Pete gets reunited with his love. i also also also believe lucius is in the shot of buttons about to zipline from one ship to the other. i missed him :')

-okay i know i said in an earlier post that stede running across the beach was romantic but i changed my mind and i think izzy is just making stede do cardio as part of his training lol. his outfit matches the one he's wearing when swordfighting izzy in that earlier wideshot and i think he even still has the scarf belt and the full beard in both scenes (explained at the end of this post via production stills) so maybe they have an honest to god training montage that takes course over several days and we get an incredible 80s powerballad to play on top of it while stede thinks of ed to motivate him or whatever. david jenkins hire me to help write season 3 i have ideas

-i think jim is behind stede as he breaks into the weirdly religious room we saw in the teaser when stede punches that guy??

-ed is pretty bloodied in the shot of stede leaning over him and saying VERY worriedly "ed????" so my theory is that ed got hurt in battle or he was taken captive by the Chinese warfleet and stede was worried he was grievously injured. however, once ed comes to and realizes who's kneeling over him, he gets pissed and headbutts stede because he's still mad at him for breaking his heart, and maybe his hands are restrained/his body is too weak so he can't push stede away. or maybe they had to begrudgingly work together on some mission and stede fucked it up and ed got hurt so he's mad about that idk!! ALSO HE'S WEARING THE CRAVAT HELLO

-ed in buttons's shirt looking so PEACEFUL what the HELL. obviously it's from the same general time as him being in Spanish Jackie's when she's talking to him about being a regular dude and later when the swede asks him if he's poor addkjfajdfhlkefh i fucking love this show and its writing so much. but ed says "no, i'm just trying something different man >:/" so i wonder if this is ed at the end of s2 or if this is more towards the middle as he's still in the thick of his healing journey. maybe buttons teaches ed about meditation and/or the tai chi he practiced with the Chinese warfleet crew??

-the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!

-i also think the BTS production still of stede with the beard is early on in ep 1 because he has a full beard (that im hoping someone on the revenge bullies him into shaving off to the scruff we see in the rest of the promo materials) and ALSO because he's wearing a long red scarf around his waist, which we never see again in any of the other promo material - except, however, around his neck as a makeshift cravat:

>it's the same exact material and everything! my guess is he gets his ass handed to him in a fight (maybe against izzy??) and his scarf belt gets destroyed, so he repurposes the shredded fabric into his necktie

-there's literal gold bars in the background of this production still lmao the kraken crew got BUSY during ed's goth era

>speaking of, the fucking hair dye dripping down izzy's forehead in this production still:

*sad clown noises*

in conclusion:

WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

anyway that's my second dissertation on less than 2 minutes of content that turned out to be quite literally 6 pages long :)

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 trailer #izzy hands #the swede #spanish jackie #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #wee john feeney #ofmd spoilers #i don't know what i need to be evaluated for but it's SOMETHING and it's PREVALENT #i spent a collective 5 hours making this post what the whole actual fuck

[boxwinebaddie]

Uncle Nina Peppermint, I am sorry tumblr 'Got' you. But I was reading through your HCs and it got me thinking about when you talked about when Style is finally dating and Stan getting StanBanned for flirting with Kyle while he's studying...Do you have an example? Eyes Emoji...It can be spicy...

ohhhhh my god. thank you for your condolences, i'm crying! you know what i was in jail so i also put stan in jail lmaoooooo. which brings me to...yes absolutely. i doooooo have an example. this ask was so iconic i, like, kind of started to write a one shot about it, but then i got lazy and remembered i have to answer my comments and start writing thirteen, so you can have like four paragraphs of fleshed out writing and like a million skeleton lines of dialogue. it's not that spicy like literally pep!stan and kyle are in the trenches of horny jail for their indecent thoughts in every chapter like every four lines so it's like not worse than that but it's under a read more anyways.

also honestly...bless you. i was like man i hate when the boys are miserable and dying this sucks so bad, so anytime i can write them being happy and in love is like...so peaceful. stan tho...is really annoying. i would also stan ban that bitch! banished to the shadHOE realm! but here is this, it's something and nothing, i hope you laugh.

“Stan, I’m TRYING to study!” 

Kyle complained as he strained his eyes trying to still the words printed across the pages of the math textbook he was holding up to his face which were now jumping all over the place due to his super best boyfriend using the bottom of said math textbook as a school-supplied skate park for Kyle’s eraser...

...Which he was using as a Tech Deck. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job.” Stan shot back after doing a sick synthetic rubber kickflip that was so obnoxious it caused page 159 to turn involuntarily, aggravating Kyle to no end. 

“And just whose fault is that, exactly?” Kyle interrogated hotly, narrowing his emerald eyes at Stan, whose lovely, very distractingly perfect head was in his lap and was feigning total innocence like Kyle had raised an absolutely ridiculous accusation against him.

He gasped and clasped a hand over his chest, totally aghast.

Kyle groaned.

“I’m sooooo helpful! Like if you drop your big, dumb, heavy nerd boy textbook, I’ll break its fall with my face and it won’t hurt your lap at all! I’m holding your e r a s e r! And—ANNNND!” 

Stan had started to protest as he ducked under the arm of the annoyed boy, pulling himself into a sitting position before leaning up towards Kyle’s cheek and blowing a warm, minty jet of air at it, which left an guilty, culpable line of blush where Stan’s breath had kissed his skin.

“You had an eyelash.” He stated with far too much pride and excitement before his brow furrowed at a sudden realization. “Wait. FUCK. You didn’t make a wish.”

Stan nudged Kyle with his elbow urgently, like it was of the utmost importance he did so. 

“Hurry up! Go make your wish, dummy!” He pestered and persisted.

“I wish you would stop annoying me while I am studying.” Kyle deadpanned. 

Which was fine because Stan’s voice bore all the animation and energy needed to carry the both of them as he stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, mocking him childishly. 

Note: It’s all fun and games falling madly in love with your best friend, the boy next door, and seemingly most flawless person on Earth until you realize that in doing so you were blind to a very incriminating and important piece of evidence…

That being that he’s extremely fucking annoying.

Yes, unfortunately, Stanley Marsh was a living, breathing testament to the fact that a person’s physical beauty, does not counteract how absolutely annoying they can be. Actually, Kyle Broflovski had no scientific evidence to back up this claim, but having dated his best friend for two months, he was certain that somehow the more absolutely radiant you were, the more irritating you were. Because Stanley Marsh was very, very radiant and very, very, very irritating.

“Haha! You’re supposed to make your wish silently! If you say it out loud it won’t come true!”

“You didn’t—“ 

Kyle started to argue before biting his tongue and swallowing back an argument that he literally did not have time to be having right now as he painstakingly slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose and aggressively scrubbed the circular lenses of the unsightly, practically prehistoric looking things, now all fogged up by the bewitching, breathtaking peppermint breeze that had escaped between said radiant, irritating boy’s lips

…which he was trying very hard not to think about.

That was very difficult to do, of course, when the side of your face was being poked violently a million times by a badly painted, black Hot Topic polished index finger and your name was being called over and over again with the firing rate of a machine gun that sounded something like:

“Ky! Kyle! Kyle! KylekylekyleKYLEKYLEKYL—“

His head whipped around like he was swinging a battle-axe.

“W H A T !?”

Stan placed his head on the slope of Kyle’s shoulder and looked up at him through his eyelashes, which were very long and darkened with the smoky residues of emo boy eyeliner. Kyle held his breath, attempting aloof detachment, as Stan bat the alluring, accursed things at him several times and, as if the unsheathing of Kyle’s one true Kryptonite was not evil enough, Stan also pouted at him.

Fucking hell. 

“I’m bored. Pay attention to me.” Which he tried unsuccessfully to steal as he lurched forward with his lips pursed hoping to connect with some cherry-flavored chapstick only for Kyle to jerk his head away at the last second with his eyes wide, using his textbook as an Anti-Sexy, Spearmint Stan Marsh shield.

“I’M STUDYING!” Kyle shouted, but it was more like a squeak as he attempted ( also unsuccessfully ) to shoo Stan away who had dramatically exclaimed, 

“I’M STUD-D Y I N G!” 

After throwing a tanned, ringed Stan-Hand over his eyes like the world was so cruel and horrible. “I cannot beeeeelieve you would rather learn about Progagility than makeout!”

“It’s probability. But…that was a really good guess. The b’s do look g’s, just flipped. I’m proud of you. That was a tough one.”

He reassured with rare softness as he placed a tiny kiss on Stan’s nose. To which, Stan beamed at him, totally besotted. He earned it. 

“It measures the likelihood of a certain event to occur.” 

“And what is the likelihood of you putting that textbook down and sticking your tongue down my throat instead?”

“Highly unlikely. Actually less likely because you said it like that. Ew.”

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that."

"What do you mea--"

“Kairu~”

“Mmm. Hey. HEY. No. NO. Stan, absolutely NO Japanese.”

“K i s u s h i t e ?”

“Okay, fuck you! Listen…I really…I REALLY didn’t want to do this, but…”

“Stanley Randall William Marsh…”

“Ew, Ky, don’t Government Name me in that voice…”

“Due to the, however, very attractive, but damning body of evidence levied against you…By the power vested in me…”

"Waitwaitwait! Pleeeeease don—“

“I’m sentencing you to Super Best Boyfriend Jail.”

“NO WAY! AGAIN?! On what GROUNDS, Counsellor Broflovski?”

“Sexual Harassment.” “And Theft.” “That’s my favorite sweater, Klepto.”

“Hmm. I think I could get those charges dropped.” “Drop your pa--”

“ATTEMPTED SOLICITATION OF PROSTITUTION.”

“Woooooooow! I’m a prostitute!? Okay, just because I’m not a ~Prospective Prosecutor~…does not mean I’m not a professional. I’m Very Professional!…A….uh…PUNDIT, even!”

“Stan, while it is very sexy when you use your SAT words correctly…Motion denied.”

Stan made a very obscene hand gesture to Kyle’s visible distress. “ALL KINDS.”

“Ugggggggh. This is so whack, K.P! You know I hate SBF Jail! You have to wear your own clothes, no one lets you be the little spoon and everyone is so nice to you! It’s awful! No one makes fun of your hair. No one wants to kill you. No one gets mad at you for biting them all the time or staring at their ass too much in public. I hate it here!

Bail me out?”

“N o p e.” “And don’t worry, I still want to kill you.”

“And do you threaten the violent murders of all the boys who you have secret, deep seated, pent up sexual frustration towards or am I extra special?”

“Stan…”

“...Kyle?”

“Bro…”

“...Babe?”

“Go home.” 

“Woooooooow. It’s because you hate me, huh?”

“Oh my god. Stan, will you PLEASE jus--” 

“No, no! It’s okay! I get it! I’m just h e a r t b r o k e n. Why would you date me if you hate me so much?! Huh, Kyle! Pretty cruel, dont’cha, think? Sigh. That’s alright. I guess I’ll go lie in the street…where I belong, you know…With the other H O O K E R S! Attempting to solicit prostitution for one measly very cherry chapstick kiss! From my super mean, super WORST boyfriend who would rather do stupid MATH than m--”

“Don’t drown in a river of your own tears, Ophelia.” “That does NOT mean O-feel-me-up, Harlot! Ugh! You’re unbelievable.”

“But…If…” “IF you can wait here q u i e t l y while I finish taking my notes. The probability of making out will drastically increase…And I will consider…”

“Consider letting you out of Super Best Boyfriend Jail…on good behavior. Can you do that?” 

“I can do that.”

“Okay, I’m holding you to it.” 

“Now, before I change my mind…” 

“Sit on my lap and hold my e r a s e r.”

Narrator VC: Kyle did not finish taking his notes.

#UNCLE NINA PEPPERMINT IS SO REAL IM CHANGING MY LEGAL NAME #something abt kyle spending like 12 years being like wow stan is so perfect pls date me #and then it happens and hes like wait nevermind what the fuck HES SO ANNOYING #is so deeply funny to me like ur honor they are in love also theyre so cute i love them #kyle: im going to kill u // stan: ooooooh u wanna kiss me so bad #smh #embarrassing #he does wanna kiss him so bad hes such a liar omg #maybe one day ill finish it hsalkdhad #also oh my god stan is so unserious like oh my gooooood tw for dramatic ass bisexual boy energy like relax #they cast stan as lead in the school musical bc of this behavior

[sagurus]

Mini Gift 2!!

[sagurus: This was written by my DCMK Secret Santa, @chriswhitewolf. Thank you for this!!!!]

Hello again from your DCMK Secret Santa! I am so excited to get to give you your main present later this month!!! It's been an awful day and I'm going to go crawl into bed now that I'm home from work (nevermind the time.) Anyway, I hope your day was better than mine, have another Mini Gift!

(I also feel like I should warn you that I am rarely able to write characters as they are in canon every single time I pick up a pen they come out varying degrees of OOC and that's just my life. I have too many brainworms about these boys for them to appear as they do in canon.)

((Everyone in your main gift has taken on a life of their own and are very much not canon compliant in their personalities. Every. Single. One. ojeahgeraihroefwij'ovgnjofrbj. It's fine.))

*Casually throws in* The word count for this is 1,607

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

Kaito had known for a long while just how dangerous his Crows were, how important it was that his identity remain a secret to ensure the safety of everyone he’d ever had any connection to. Knowing that they knew his father had been KID made it all the more challenging to keep them from discovering that he was the one who’d taken up the mantle. He’d gone to great lengths to keep that secret.

Too bad nothing good ever lasts.

His identity had been discovered by the Crows, who, unlike a certain great detective, had no qualms about confronting him in his civilian life.

He’d gotten the hell out of dodge at that point. He had to disappear. He’d spared just enough time to grab Hakuba and drag him along to a safe house while he worked out a better plan to keep them out of the line of fire. He hadn’t expected to get a call from a certain tiny sleuth, saying that his identity as missing detective Kudo Shinichi had been found out by his Black Organization that same day, and that he and Tantei-han needed to disappear for the time being.

It’d seemed, at the time, like a good idea to group up. The four of them were smart, and between Kaito’s disguise skills and Kudo’s FBI connection, it’d be easy enough to hunker down and throw together a plan to take out both international criminal syndicates at the same time, before anyone else got hurt.

Unfortunately for them, tragedies came in threes. The four of them had made their way out of the city and into a remote safe house, completely off the grid, and managed to pass along every last bit of information about either group that the four of them had gathered thus far. At which point the FBI forbade them from having anything more to do with the takedowns and instructed all four of them not to leave the safe house for anything less than the location being compromised. Kaito was more than willing to disregard both of those orders, and Kudo seemed to be right there with him. The safe house in question was tiny, more like a small bomb shelter than a safe house. It was one room, no windows, with the only doors leading to a small bathroom and the world outside. One wall was floor-to-ceiling shelving stocked with shelf stable foods and ration bags, with a stand-alone sink for water nestled in the corner. Four thin cots had been dragged in and shoved against the opposite wall. The rest of the room was bare, solid concrete.

In short, there were four bored, highly intelligent teenagers stuck in constant close proximity, with no entertainment and nothing to do but stare at the walls and annoy each other.

It’d been two weeks. They were losing it.

Kaito felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin with all the pent-up energy he’d been collecting. Being made to sit around all day without so much as a deck of playing cards was near impossible for the high energy magician. He was practically bounding off the walls, pacing around for hours on end, doing whatever acrobatics he could fit in the small room in hopes of burning off some of the energy.

The detectives didn’t appreciate his antics. To be fair, they were driving him crazy as much as he was them. It was mutual. Shinichi kept trying to sneak out, never mind that the BO knew he was Conan and were keeping an eye out for him as an adult and a child. Hattori seemed to be incapable of not starting an argument with Hakuba every other hour, and Hakuba was being every bit as much a stick-in-the-mud smug bastard as ever.

If they didn’t get out soon, they were going to kill each other. Or do something else drastic. Like sneaking into the FBI’s operations headquarters they’d set up and causing all sorts of mayhem. He couldn’t mess with (or solve) their cases without it causing problems that might let the criminals off free, and he couldn’t risk dying the agent’s hair without potentially exposing agents in undercover operations. He had plenty of other ideas, though.

Kaito was more and more tempted to carry through with one every passing hour, at this point.

Zoned out in his thoughts, Kaito wasn’t paying enough attention to avoid slamming into Hakuba and knocking the Brit flat on his ass.

“KUROBA!”

Kaito allowed himself two quick blinks to be startled before he smiled down at the detective.

“So sorry, Tantei-san. Didn’t see you there.” He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself from adding, “Though, you must be used to being invisible by now.”

Hattori choked on a laugh, while Conan rolled his eyes and continued fiddling with his bow tie, not even bothering to look over at them from where he was laying on his cot staring at the ceiling. Hakuba fumed as he pulled himself up off the floor, stalking forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with Kaito. He opened his mouth to retort but paused. He stepped back out of Kaito’s personal bubble, and for a moment the magician thought he was going to drop it without rising to the bait. Then Hakuba opened his mouth again, and sucked all the air out of the room with his next words.

“I’d rather be invisible than get the people I love killed, running around as a shiny white target, Kaitou-kun.”

Kaito froze at that. He heard Conan bolt up into a sitting position, the cot creaking with the movement. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shinichi and Heiji exchange a look, shocked that the British detective would strike such a low blow.

Contrarily, Hakuba sported an infuriating smirk, likely at having shocked Kaito into silence. He was willing to bet the bastard hadn't even processed what he'd said yet, riding blindly on the annoyance and frustration built up over the last two weeks. Kaito growled, an angry sound low in his throat, and Shinichi sucked a sharp breath between his teeth. Kaito watched as Hakuba's face slackened, realizing the weight of his words.

"Kuroba-" Kaito cut him off by slamming him back into the wall, shirt collar balled in his fists.

"Woah! Hey, hang on a sec-" Kaito ignored Heiji's slightly panicked attempt and deescalating the situation. Kaito didn’t want to deescalate, or calm down. He wanted to be angry, just this once, without holding back. He wanted to escalate it further.

“Kuroba-kun-”

“Shut up.” Kaito noted, in some back corner of his mind that was always watching and taking notes and paying attention to everything, that his voice had pitched significantly deeper in his anger. He hadn’t even consciously made the choice to switch to English. The s was slightly drawn-out, a viscous hiss. He didn’t care. “Bastard. You asshole.”

Kaito felt detached from himself. It felt like he was riding shotgun in his own body, watching himself surge forward and slam his lips to Hakuba’s. The instant he did, the detached feeling fled. He didn’t break the kiss; he growled and pressed closer, all burning anger and aggression. He didn’t spare a moment of surprise at the way Hakuba kissed back, letting Kaito press him to the wall. Kaito bit at Hakuba’s lip, enough to send a spark of pain without actually hurting him, and Hakuba let his lips part in what felt like surrender. The very thought drove Kaito mad in an entirely different way. He knew Hakuba was stronger, physically. He could easily push Kaito away, and he knew that Hakuba knew that. But he didn’t push him away; no, instead he let Kaito hold him there, let Kaito do whatever he wanted. If Kaito’s kiss was a demand, Hakuba’s reciprocation was acceptance, was giving in and letting Kaito take. It was heady, filling his chest and driving out the anger to replace it with an entirely different kind of heat.

“WOULD YOU TWO CUT IT OUT ALREADY?!” Conan’s voice broke the moment like a sledgehammer through a glass window. Kaito startled at the sound, breaking the kiss unintentionally. His shock-wide eyes met Hakuba’s steady, smug, and slightly clouded gaze, before darting down to watch as his tongue darted out to wet his kiss-bruised lips. Kaito’s chest was a knotted mess of tangled emotions in the aftermath of...that, but the one thing he did know is that he definitely wanted to kiss Hakuba again. Wanted to soothe out the anger he’d poured out into him, replace it with a sweet softness that left the blond’s head spinning.

He wanted to give him that sweetness in other ways, too, not just with kisses. He wanted to be Hakuba’s, to have Hakuba be his, to be together.

He...he wanted to be boyfriends.

Huh. Hello, Gay Awakening. And here he thought he’d known everything there was to know about himself.

It was overwhelming. He felt like he’d been set adrift in the middle of the sea.

Hakuba must have noticed something in his expression, because he reached up and flicked Kaito, gently, in the center of the forehead. When Kaito focused his eyes, Hakuba was smirking at him.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked. You didn’t have to start a fight with me as an excuse.”

Kaito could read between the lines, and he gratefully accepted the comfort and control Hakuba had just handed back to him.

That didn’t mean he would admit just how much fondness bled through his voice when he replied.

“Bastard.”

[sagurus: That was a wild ride from start to finish!!!!!! Holy shit. Things sure got heated. And then they got heated...differently. ;D Thanks for writing this! I had a lot of fun reading it <3 Thanks for being such an amazing secret santa! These gifts have been so fun.]

#submission #dcmk secret santa 22 #dcmk ss 22

[pleasantspark]

FINAL MEMORY FANFIC SELF INSERT X 4 CHARS RATED: TEEN

"I'm sorry, ze has a few cycles until ze offline, there's nothing much we can do." Ratchet said. Rodimus teared up. 

"What can we do? There's got to be something!" Rodimus said. 

"The best option you have is to make zir final moments special." Ratchet suggests. 

"As much as we hate to hear this, we have no choice. Thanks Ratchet." Rung said grimly. The Five of them arrived back in their habsuite. 

"So, Ratchet said we have to make zir last few moments special. We should take zir out and hang out with zir." Kup said.

"As much as I don't want to believe this, Kup is right." Swerve said. 

The Five of them hung out together, picnicking on a hill of Earth in their holoforms. Each and every time they went out Rose became more and more weak. Eventually, Rose was unable to walk, and had to use a wheelchair, the four knew their time was soon approaching. They saw Rose sitting out in the observation deck. 

"Hey Rose?" Rodimus said, Rose turned to face Rodimus and looked towards the other three. 

"Yes?" Rose replies. 

"You don't have much time left and I... We decided to let you pick what you want to do..." Rodimus said. 

"I want to see the sunset with you four..." Rose said. 

"..." Rodimus choked up. "Y-You want to see the sunset? Okay, if you want. Then you'll see the suns-set..." Rodimus teared up and pushed zir wheelchair. 

The other three followed behind. Rose and them arrives on the hill looking at the sunset.

It was peaceful, Rodimus and the other three were grim. 

"Isn't this a beautiful sunset?" Rung asked. 

Rose chuckles. "Best I ever seen." Rose states. The others went silent and started to think. What were they going to do after Rose passed? Rose were their glue that stuck them together and now, now Rose is going to pass. 

Without Rose, the other three didn't know what to do. They sighed and looked towards Rose who had zir optics closed. They panicked. 

"Rose? Can you hear us?" They asked the cybertronian, no response. They freaked out and shoved Rose to wake zir up and got no response. Rodimus knowing what this meant fell to his knees in anguish. He couldn't save zir, Rose was gone. 

Rodimus started to cry, emotions flooded him one by one, he couldn't take it, he was at the brink of what he could take. Kup placed a servo on Rodimuses' back, and sighed. 

He too, knew ze were no longer with them. They rushed zir back to Ratchet who was asking them questions for what they want to do with the body. Rodimus all the while clung onto Kup still upset. 

Kup discussed to Ratchet that he would like zir ashes, he planned to ask Drift to plant a cherry blossom tree and they could spread zir ashes in the soil of the planted cherry blossom tree to commemorate zir. Rodimus was wailing, he couldn't bear to hear this. He was sparkbroken. 

Kup tried to calm him down. But Rodimus, he was grieving badly. After the preparations were in order, Ratchet went ahead and dismissed them. The four went back to their room and sat in silence. Now that Rose was gone. 

They didn't know what to do... They stayed together sadly, looking at one another. One wanted to say something, but the other couldn't, so they went quiet. 

Eventually, Rodimus couldn't take it and ran towards Roses' side of the room and went through zir stuff and finally, after having a mental breakdown, envelopes directed to each of them fell on the floor at Rodimuses' pedes. He picked up the scattered letters and walked over to the other three handing them their letters in silence. 

They each opened their letters. 

"Dearest, (Main Four)

I knew when I first met you, I was a mess. I didn't know what to do with my life, my past relationships were hell for me and I was so afraid you were going to hurt me. But as we all became close, those fears went away. You made me safe and felt wanted. I couldn't thank you enough for the relationship. Each and every one of you did so much for me, and I wish. I wish I had more to say, but even writing words on a paper is even harder than saying it out loud. I just wanted to tell you, I love all three of you. While my time is up, and I'm no longer here as you're reading this. I wanted to let you all know how special you all meant to me, please take care of our kids, I am watching from above.

- Rose." 

Rodimus teared up, as photos fell from the envelope, he picked them up and the other three looked over his shoulder only to see various images of Rose and them all together or some individually with Rose. Photos such as them kissing, with their children even Rose holding their children after birth and zir final moments with them. All four of them decided that right then and there they needed to honor Rose, as ze would wanted them to. 

They made frames to place the photos up and began to write back to Rose. 

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers mtmte #transformers mtmte fanfic #mtmte self insert #transformers self insert #mtmte self indulgent fanfic #. 💕 ; text.jpg #. 💕; selfshipping.jpg #. 💕 ; the main four #. 💕 ; okay to reblog #. 💕 ; okay 2 rb #. 💕 ; minors dni

[lightning-struck-thrice]

During the Mighty Nein Vs. Vox Machina I just pictured all of the unused people of each party sitting in, like, an awkward waiting room together.

Nott: *Gets caught stealing from Grog*

Grog: Hey what are you doin'? *Grabs for her*

Nott: Hey! Hands off the merchandise, big boy! *Scurries up Caleb's back to peek around him, drawing her crossbow*

*tensions rise between strangers, all weapons are drawn*

Caleb: *trying to defuse the tension because he's looking at Grog who could kill him in one punch* Hey, you all seem like nice people that definitely don't want to hurt my friend here, would you like to see my cat?

Keyleth: *instantly disarmed* Oh My God! You have a cat?!

Caleb: *snaps Frumpkin into Keyleth's arms*

*everyone else lowered their weapons*

Keyleth: *GASP* It's so cute!

Vex: You think cats are cool?! Check out my BEAR! *Dramatically presents Trinket, opening her locket*

Trinket: *Yawns*

Caleb: *looks terrified, snaps Frumpkin back into his arms*

Yasha: *Leans down eye to eye with Trinket who sniffs her* I did not know that people kept bears as pets. Is he magic too, like Frumpkin?

Vex: He's not my pet, he's my friend!

Caduceus: This girl? *Points to Vex* Yeah, I like her. She gets it.

Trinket: *Licks Yasha's nose*

Yasha: *turning to Cad* This is a good bear. *Turns to Vex* He is shaped like a friend.

Vex: His name is Trinket.

Nott: I love trinkets! *Drums fingers mischievously*

Caleb: *sternly* You are not stealing a bear, Nott.

Grog: *eyeing Caleb* Would you like to wrestle? I'm getting bored.

Caleb: Oh, ugh, wrestling is really not my strong suit, perhaps we can all have a drink instead? *Nudges Nott*

Nott: I don't want to share with him! He tried to grab me!

Caleb: Well you didn't exactly put your best foot forward when you tried to pick his pocket. Go on, make friends.

Nott: *sighs* Would you like a drink, Mr. Giant-man?

Grog: out of this tiny thing? *Laughs* Sure! *Drinks for a suspiciously long amount of time, finally tips it up* I love this! Would you like to trade it for a deck of cards?

Vex: No! *Swipes the flask away*

Caleb: Well, while we're all stuck here I could use a drink.

Vex: *shakes the flask, takes a swig before handing it to Caleb* Ugh, that is Briney!

Nott: Oh yeah I opened it in the ocean one time. That happens every once in a while.

Caleb: *looks at Trinket again and takes a large swig*

Keyleth: Do we have anything else to drink?

Caduceus: How about some tea?

Keyleth: That would be wonderful!

Yasha: Yes, the tea is very good, it's made out of dead people.

Vex: it's made out of what?!

Caleb: Look we all have a bigger problem, where are our friends and how are we getting out of here?

Everyone: *exchanges a glance, looks around for exists, none exist*

Nott: Hey... if we're all stuck here can I interest you all in some fruit?

*3 hours later, the rest of the parties appear, flustered*

Vax: Come on! Let's get out of here!

*Pike and Scanlan are still straighting their clothes, the second half of the Nein look cocky, Molly and Percy are eyeing one another, they all turn, shocked*

*Grog and Nott are drunk and cry-hugging*

*Caduceus is writing a cookie recipe onto Keyleth's arm, Keyleth had braided some of his hair*

*Frumpkin is asleep on Yasha, Yasha is asleep on Trinket*

*Vex it's staring intensely at Caleb, peeking over a book while he lays on a hovering flying carpet*

Vex: So we've never met before?

Caleb: No.

Vex: You've never been to Tal'Dori?

Caleb: No.

Vex: Where did you say that you were from?

Caleb: Wildemount.

Vex: Are you lying to me?

Caleb: Why would I lie about that?

Vex: *looking thoroughly puzzled* Gods! Then why do you seem so familiar?!

#critical role #vox Machina #the mighty Nein #critical role shitpost #Vox Machina vs the Mighty Nein #caleb widogast #vex'ahlia #trinket #grog strongjaw #nott the brave #caduceus clay #Keyleth #yasha nydoorin #frumpkin #mine #this was a nightmare to try and keep track of everyone in accept form

[typical-simplelove]

On Your Right (M. Tkachuk)

Author's Note: The longest one-shot I have ever written is for @raysofcrosby for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange; this is my first exchange, so hopefully, I did well. Thanks to Demi for organizing this! I truly had a blast working on this. I hope you enjoy this!! I used inspo from To All the Boys I've Loved Before and Bridgerton for this. Enjoy reading!

Summary: When you and Matthew both find yourself needing dates to individual events, Matthew proposes a plan where you both fake date. He suggests that he, who's been in love with you since the age of ten, and you, who is convinced Matthew hates you, date. What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 21.4k

Warnings: the time may not coincide with the way time works, but ignore that; hatred; friends hating each other; Matthew being an ass; fake dating; mentions of sex (nothing explicit or too NSFW, though); planes; only one bed

Sitting on the patio chair of the Tkachuk's deck was exactly how you expected to spend a Sunday afternoon in the early weeks of summer vacation. For the past ten years, it's the exact way you've always spent your Sunday afternoons in the summer. It was always the same. Your mother and Chantal would be in the kitchen with the air conditioning, and your dad and Keith would be at the grill making dinner. What they would make would change, but it would usually be somewhere between burgers and hotdogs to chicken or salmon. It was always a surprise. They'd never tell the kids not wanting any complaining. You always sat in a chair with Taryn on your left and with Matthew on your right. Across from you sat your brother and Brady next to him. Keith always sat at one head and Chantal at the other. Your dad sat in the seat next to Keith, and your mother sat next to Chantal. You would always drink lemonade, and your brother would drink iced tea. You never got to drink that at home, so you and your brother would make sure to share your cups. Sometimes, Matthew would drink a pop of his choice and share it with you. If it rained, the Tkachuks would go to your home, and the seating situation was the same around your dining room table.

Chantal and your mother would insist that you kids couldn't play inside at these Sunday afternoon dinners. Sometimes, your brother and the boys would play soccer and maybe let you and Taryn join. Oftentimes, though, you and Taryn would hang out together. Sometimes, Matthew would play with you and Taryn, and you'd all play family. You and Matthew would be married parents, and Taryn would be your daughter. If your brother and Brady chose to join, Taryn would be the aunt, and Brady and your brother would be the children. Taryn always joked that life should always end up that way -- you and Matthew married with Taryn as the aunt to your children. When she'd bring up the topic, your mother and Chantal would always give each other a knowing look as if they knew something you both didn't. Your dad wouldn't say anything, but Keith would pat his shoulder, again, as if they knew something you didn't. Brady and your brother would gag and tease Matthew. You and Matthew never said anything; you both were close friends, some would argue best friends, but it didn't matter. You knew that Matthew would be someone who would always be in your life. In your life, ages 5-10, you didn't understand the notion of marriage. All you knew was that you wanted Matthew to be in your life, and if it was marriage, then so be it.

Despite expecting to be sitting on that patio chair, you never expected you'd be watching Taryn, Brady, Matthew, and your brother playing while you sat there by yourself. It wasn't that they weren't including you, but they also weren't not not including you. They all decided to play your least favorite game, and you didn't want to, so you decided to sit and watch. There's more to it, though. The school year ended just the previous week, and you and Matthew graduated from elementary school and would be going to middle school. Somewhere within the past few weeks. Matthew went from being one of your closest friends to hating you. He just suddenly decided he didn't like you. You weren't sure why, but he just stopped being your friend. You told your mother you were sick so as not to have to come to the Tkachuk's today, but she said no. She saw right through your lie. You didn't know why Matthew didn't want to be your friend anymore, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. No longer were the days where you and Matthew would pretend to be a married couple. No more were the days where Matthew would share his pop with you. No more were the days where Matthew was your closest friend.

When Chantal called for dinner, you ran to the washroom to wash your hands and sat back in your usual spot. Despite knowing Matthew's recent emotions towards you, you hoped he'd still sit next to you. You watched as Taryn returned from washing her hands and began to apologize for not playing a game you liked. You told her it was okay, it was, and watched your brother take his seat across from you, as normal. You watched Brady put the toys away and go to the washroom to wash his hands. You watched as Keith and your father put the grilled chicken on the table, and Chantal and your mother set the sides on the table. Finally, Matthew emerged from the house, but what he did next confused you. He sat in Brady's usual seat.

"What are you doing, Matthew?" Brady asks when he sees where his brother is sitting. Matthew glares at you and shrugs.

"I just want to sit next here, today," Matthew says with anger in his voice. You weren't sure why he was suddenly so angry, but the look he had as he stared at you sent chills down your spine. That's when you knew. That's when you knew that Matthew hated you. He doesn't like you anymore, and you doubted he ever would You didn’t know it, then, but you now know that when Matthew opted to sit in a different seat and treat you with anger, he broke your heart.

Matthew Tkachuk broke your heart at the age of ten.

. . .

With Matthew out of the picture as a friend, you found yourself growing closer to your other friends. One friend, in particular, became your closest friend, Shelly. You and Shelly became the best of friends and stuck together through middle school, high school, and college. It was Shelly who convinced you that it would be a good idea to move to Calgary despite your hated family friend living there.

"Shelly, I don't think so," you tell her. "Actually, I know so."

"Come on, Ynn," Shelly eggs on. "Do it for me? I'm getting married! Please, can you bring a date? Actually, it's a must thing. I'm telling you that you have to bring a date. That's the only thing I need from you."

"So, the only thing I need to do as your maid of honor is to bring a date?"

"I mean, no? But, the wedding is in two months, and most of the stuff I've needed you to do has been done. Just this one thing, okay? I think you'll enjoy it much better if you have someone to hang out with. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with him and marry him, and I can be your maid of honor."

"Fine," you grumble. "But, only because I love you."

You hang up the phone and groan. How were you supposed to find a date? You had a few work friends in Calgary, but you found it difficult to find a date. The one thing that annoyed you the most was that you had two months to find someone you liked and trusted enough to bring to St. Louis for a wedding. What were you going to do?

Now, a month later, you were standing outside one certain door you never thought you would with a plate of cookies, their favorite cookies, and angry that this was your last resort. You knock on the door of the apartment and await the smirk and comment you were bound to get.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my biggest admirer, Yn Yln," Matthew says with his signature smirk. Yup, you guessed it.

"Matthew," you grumble and walk into his apartment as he welcomes you inside. "Here are some cookies."

Matthew takes the plate from you, opens it up, and bites into a cookie. "Thank you," he says with a mouthful of cookies. You grimace at the sight and remind yourself about the task at hand. "You know, when you called me, I forgot you were in Calgary. Why haven't you ever called me before to hang out?"

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Maybe the small fact that we've hated each other since we were like ten? Or, how about that time you spilled water down my dress at our joint eighth-grade graduation party? Or, how about that time you spilled Gatorade on my English project? Or, how about that time you told everyone we were dating when you clearly know WE WEREN'T. Or, how about that time you took my car keys and hid them at the bottom of your hockey bag in the men's locker room? Would you like me to continue? I can keep going as far as you need."

"No, no, I get the point. No need to remind me," Matthew tells you. He internally cringes at his actions growing up, but he has too much pride to apologize. "Anyways, that was when we were growing up and in high school. I haven't treated you like that in ages."

Matthew knows he shouldn't have said that immediately when he sees the glare you give him. "I have a list if you'd like for me to list it out?"

"Okay, fine, message understood. You hate me, and I hate you because of it. What do you need? You called me pretty frantically."

You narrow your eyes at Matthew. "Firstly, I did not call you frantically. I called you asking if I could ask for a favor. Secondly, I only hate you because you hate me. Third, I need your help with something."

"Okay, firstly, yes you did. Second, maybe that's right. Third, just tell me."

"Can you set me up with a teammate or a friend of yours for me to take to Shelly's wedding?" you blurt out in one breath.

"What?" Matthew laughs breathlessly, not sure if he heard you right.

"I need a date for Shelly's wedding, and I need you to set me up with someone you trust, please."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"No," you grumble out, and Matthew laughs at you. "It's not like you have a girlfriend or anything."

"Wow, look at you. Firing shots, huh?"

"Matthew, can you or can you not set me up with someone you know and trust?"

"Sure, I'll see who I can find."

"Great, thank you," you say and make your way to leave.

"Where are you going?" Matthew asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Home?"

"You just came here to ask me that and leave?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," you say blatantly. Matthew is shocked by your words and takes a visible step back. He isn't sure why your words shocked him so much because he knows you're both not friends. He knows for a fact you're both not friends but hearing you actually say it after all these years is shocking to him.

"Right, not friends. You can leave then. You can take your cookies back."

"No, no, I made them for you. I know they're your favorite. Thanks, again, Matthew."

"Sure, sure," he says as you walk out the door. He locks the door behind you and is instantly confused why he hates that you're both not friends. He knows you’re not friends. Both his and your actions over the past years have proven it, but he thought — he actually doesn't know what he thought. As the season came to an end, Matthew had another task at hand — finding someone for you to take as a date even though he knows no one he knows is good enough for you.

. . .

Matthew was sitting at the bar with his teammates sizing them all up wondering which one would be good enough for you to have as a date. There was Noah; Matthew guesses he could be okay with you with him, but Matthew knows you could do better. There was Jacob, and Matthew knew he'd treat you well. Maybe he should ask Jacob if he'd join you as a date.

"Matthew, why do you keep staring at us?" Noah asks.

"I have someone I know who needs help finding a date for a wedding this summer," Matthew explains. "This person I know asked if I could set them up with someone I know and trust."

"Do you need a guy? If so, then go with Jacob. He'll treat your friend, right," Elias says.

"Yn's not my friend," Matthew is quick to say.

"Is she someone you’re more than friends with?" Noah asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, absolutely not," Matthew says as he vehemently shakes his head. "No, we've hated each other since we were like ten."

"Why are you helping her, then?"

Matthew just stares at Noah. Why was he helping you? You both weren’t friends, as you made abundantly clear the other day. Matthew didn’t know why he was helping you. You were a long-time family friend and by far one of the most amazing people he’s ever met. But, that didn’t answer the question as to why he was helping you. You were someone amazing, yet Matthew still can’t seem to pinpoint why he was helping you. Matthew knows that if he doesn’t help you Chantal would have his head. Maybe, just maybe, it was the small, no large, crush he’s harbored for you since you were both ten. Maybe, just maybe, he truly, deep down cared about who you dated if it couldn’t be him. “I’m not sure,” Matthew deflects knowing fully why he was helping you.

“Maybe you should strike her a deal,” Mark mentions. “You find her a date for the wedding, and she finds you a date for the End-of-Year Charity Gala.”

Matthew perks his head up towards his captain. He forgot about the Gala.

“Oh no, Matthew has a smirk on his face. What’s your idea?” Noah says suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Matthew says, not losing his smirk. He has one splendid idea that he is sure to solve both your dating issues.

. . .

Matthew: I have a date for you. He’ll come over tomorrow at 5 pm with flowers, okay?

Yn: Okay, sounds good! I can’t wait to meet him.

Matthew: You’ll love him.

Matthew knows you won’t. Based on what his plan was, he knew you wouldn’t like it. He only hoped you wouldn’t slap him across the face.

. . .

The day after Matthew texted you and said when your date would show up, you were nervous. Incredibly nervous. You hoped that, for once, Matthew wouldn’t be an ass and set you up with someone nice. You were pacing around your kitchen and 4:58 pm when the doorbell rang. You stood up straight and took a deep breath. You could do this. You weren’t going to actually date the guy; you were just going to ask him to accompany you to a wedding back home and that was it. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Matthew?” you ask in disbelief as you lock eyes with Matthew’s striking blue eyes. You give him a once-over and notice he’s wearing a white shirt, a tight shirt that fits him way too well, and black dress pants. What was with the fancy wear? You meet his eyes again, and you’re met with his eyes full of love, happiness, and worry as they stare deep into your eyes. You’ve yet to ever see this mix of emotion in Matthew’s eyes when he looks at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You and Matthew continue staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both not wanting to break the trance you’ve found yourself in.

“Hey, Yn,” Matthew finally says, realizing who he was looking at. He hands you the bouquet of your favorite flowers. “These are for you.”

“Oh, um, come in,” you say and usher him inside. You hate him, Yn. Stop with these emotions, you keep telling yourself. Why did he suddenly have this effect on you? Matthew walks into your apartment, takes his shoes off, and sits on a chair at your counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your date,” Matthew says nervously, but you still see the love lining his eyes as you speak. You haven’t seen that look directed to you in a while.

“No, absolutely not. We hate each other, remember? Why would I suddenly bring you as a date?”

“Look, before you go crazy, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” Matthew asks softly. You nod and turn away to put the flowers in a vase. You make sure your back is to Matthew because you don’t want him to see how flustered you are by his soft tone towards you.

After placing the flowers in a vase and placing it on the coffee table, you say, “Okay, Matthew, what do you have to say?”

“You know how at the end of the season, the Flames have an End-of-Year Charity Gala?” you shake your head no, and Matthew chuckles softly, and your faith grows warm. “Well, we have one, and I need to bring a date.”

“Okay?”

“So, what if we pretend to date? Like, you come with me to the gala, and I go with you to Shelly’s wedding,” Matthew proposes nervously.

“Why would you want that, Matthew? You hate me.”

“I don’t — I couldn’t ha— you know what? It doesn’t matter. Look, you need a date, and I need a date, so why don’t we just go together and solve both our problems?”

“Matthew, I don’t know.”

“Yn, come on. What’s stopping you?”

“You hate me, Matthew,” you tell him softly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.

Matthew sighs. He could never hate you. He never really hated you; he just had to pretend to hate you because of how he felt. When Matthew was ten, he realized that he had a crush on you. He realized he like liked you, and he didn’t know what to do about it, so he just ignored you and was mean to you. Unfortunately, over the years, Matthew couldn’t let go of those feelings, and he fell more and more for you as he watched you grow into the beautiful person you are now. Seeing you walk into this apartment with the cookies the other day, Matthew realized that he was still hopelessly in love with you. At first, Matthew thought that he could find a date for you. He could find someone who was perfect for you because everyone knows that he could never be it for you, but, as he began going through his list of friends, he realized that even they weren’t good enough for you. Matthew knew you’d never feel the same way about him, but if Matthew can have you as a fake girlfriend, then that’s what he’ll have, then. “We both don’t want to find a date for our events, so why don’t we just pretend to date, then?”

You look at Matthew and see the sincerity in his eyes. You see the longing and want for you to say yes. You’ve always loved looking into Matthew’s eyes and seeing the emotion in them. You’ve never seen this kind of emotion directed towards you. You see the longing and sadness and wishing for you to say yes; however, you also see love? You couldn’t possibly be seeing that in his eyes. Could you? “Okay,” you whisper, suddenly being overwhelmed with what you saw laced in Matthew’s eyes and facial expressions.

“Okay?” Matthew asks, confirming because he was in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. We can fake date.”

Matthew rushes over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he holds you tightly.

“Of course, Matthew. You had a good idea that helped us both.”

Matthew leaves shortly after with a fake girlfriend and a wide smile on his face. He only hoped that he wouldn’t fall harder for you now that he’s finally somehow got you.

. . .

Matthew came over two weeks later, one day before the Flames’ last game, to sort out the terms of your and Matthew’s fake dating ruse. You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. No one back home would believe that you and Matthew were dating. You both have hated each other for as long as you can remember. Everyone would be shocked that you and Matthew can possibly stand to be in the same room together. The fact that you moved to the same city was also a giant shock to everyone. Not a single person would believe it, but why did your heart suddenly race when you thought of you and Matthew fake dating? Why did your pulse quicken at the thought of being on Matthew’s arm at the Gala? Why did you enjoy the cheeky messages Matthew has been sending you and telling you that he was trying to “fill the role perfectly”? Why did your heart hurt when you realized it was all fake?

“I brought some takeout, is that good?” Matthew asks as he steps into your apartment. In his hands, he has a bag of food from your favorite restaurant in Calgary and another bouquet. You take the bag of food and the flowers from his hand, and Matthew goes into your cupboards to find some plates. The domesticity of the situation made your heart lurch through your chest, but you still weren’t sure why.

“That’s perfect, thanks, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile as Matthew sets the plates down on the counter. You place the flowers in another vase and put them next to the flowers Matthew brought previously that were probably ready to be tossed. “You don’t have to buy me flowers every time you come by.”

“Firstly, it’s been like two times, and secondly, let me treat you, okay? I am your boyfriend, after all, so I might as treat you as you deserve to be treated,” Matthew tells you as if he was preaching fact. He talked to you as if he didn’t hate you your entire life and only just started liking you.

“Fake boyfriend,” you correct. You want to make sure that the parameters of your relationship are clearly defined.

“You tell that to Shelly? That you and I are fake dating?” Matthew asks with a smirk.

“I told her I had a date, and I was going to tell her it was you, but she told me to surprise her on her wedding day. I’m convinced she thinks I don’t have a date,” you tell Matthew and take a bite of food. You moan in delight, and Matthew grins knowing he picked the perfect meal for you. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

Matthew shrugs, but a playful smile is a dead giveaway that he has an explanation. “I guess I just know you really well.”

“That’s ridiculous, Matthew. You do not know me at all. I’ve changed since you stopped being my friend when we were ten.”

“Hey! I did not stop being your friend. You stopped being my friend,” Matthew feigns hurt even though he knows your words are right.

“Matthew, I stopped being your friend because you stopped being friends with me.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Matthew mumbles and opting to look down at his plate instead of at you where he’d much rather be looking.

“You stopped being my friend after we graduated from elementary school. I remember that the third Sunday dinner we had that summer was the first time you stopped sitting next to me, and I knew that you were officially not my friend anymore.���

“You sure that’s what happened, Yn? Are you sure that it wasn’t you who stopped being my friend?”

“I always sat in the same middle seat, Matthew. You opted to sit in Brady’s seat instead.”

“Fine, whatever. Agree to disagree?”

“Sure, sure, even though I’m right.”

Matthew laughs at your words and shakes his head. “How we were ever friends baffles me because we are both so stubborn.”

“That we are,” you agree, and a comfortable silence fills your kitchen as you and Matthew continue to eat.

“You know,” Matthew says breaking the silence, “I do know you better than you think.”

“As do I,” you tell him not meeting his eye. You always were quite observant of Matthew despite you two not being friends anymore. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. No, it probably wasn’t because of how gorgeous he was.

“Okay, you tell me something about myself, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Yn; you just say something.”

“But I want you to tell me what you want me to say,” you tease.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about me,” Matthew gives you his signature smirk.

“I’m starting to think the same about you.”

Matthew sighs and shakes his head. “How about we talk about our situation instead?”

“Our ruse?” you tease and quirk your eyebrows.

“Sure, our ruse,” Matthew says, not sure why you had that look on your face. “What is our story? We could just say we hooked up and realized that we liked each other.”

“As much as that story is believable, I don’t think that Shelly will believe that. Why don’t we go with something else? How about: I was lonely in the city and needed someone familiar, so I called you, and the rest just fell together.”

“I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Matthew says. As much as he loves and thinks it’s a good story, he’d very much rather have a bit more romantic and loving story, so Matthew can have the fake relationship he’d always wanted with you.

“Oh, come on, Matthew, it’s perfect!” you pout, and Matthew knows he’s going to bend for you because it’s you. He always bent to your will regardless of whether or not you knew it.

“Fine, we’ll use your story. How long have we been dating?”

“Why don’t we just keep it vague to minimize any questions? Should we say a few months now? Anything longer will be suspicious, and anything shorter would be weird. The most we can say is three to three and a half months because when I talked to Shelly about two months ago, she was under the impression I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

“Okay, fair. You know,” Matthew says with a smirk, “the fact that you’re able to throw together the perfect fake-dating story makes me think that you’ve done this before.”

You burst out laughing. “You seriously think that? I thought you knew me.”

“I do know you.”

“Then you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic, and the amount of times I’ve read fake dating romance novels is unbelievable. The only thing, though, is that our story won’t end up with us dating but with us maybe being friends.”

“Right,” Matthew says, and he looks down at his plate sadly realizing you truly didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, did I say anything wrong?” you apologize. You weren’t sure why Matthew suddenly got upset, but you thought it couldn’t have possibly been your words. How could it? You and Matthew have hated each other for years. It’d be ridiculous to think that this ruse would end in an actual relationship.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry,” Matthew sends you a soft smile, and your stomach does somersaults. “What about physical stuff?”

You glare at Matthew trying to figure out exactly what he was asking for in this fake relationship. “Explain because if you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not happening.”

“No, Yn, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” Matthew replies shocked that you’d even bring up the notion. “No, I meant like holding hands, my arms wrapped around you, kissing and stuff like that. Things that couples do, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I guess we could hold hands and touch each other to keep up the facade, but only in public.”

Matthew nods. “Only in public.”

You make moves to clear the table, but Matthew stops you and clears the table for you. “Sit, I’ll take care of it.”

“Matthew —” you begin.

“Nope, my fake girlfriend doesn’t need to clear her table, so sit down.”

“Maybe you should be my fake-boyfriend forever if you’re going to be clearing my table and stuff like this.”

“I mean if you’d like,” Matthew smirks and sends you a wink. He continues cleaning up by placing the dishes in the dishwasher and placing the leftovers in a Tupperware container and inside the fridge. You’re watching him concentrate on the task at hand, and suddenly, you’re drawn to his lips. You were drawn to the way he bit his lip in concentration and licked the bottom lip now and then. You watched the way he’d stop biting his lips and realize that you want to be the one to bite his lip. You wanted to kiss Matthew.

“Hey, um, Matthew?” you begin hesitantly.

“Mmm,” he replies looking up.

“Should we, um, kiss?” your eyes don’t meet Matthew’s, and you’re intent on staring at the tiles on the floor of your kitchen instead.

“I mean, sure, when we’re out in public. It’d be weird if we didn’t, right?”

“Right,” you nod knowingly and happy that Matthew didn’t realize the true meaning of your request. You look up and notice him watching you curiously. The sparkle in his eyes makes your face warm under his gaze, and you know that he’s figured out what you were truly thinking.

“Or,” he begins with a smirk, “we could practice now, so we know what to do when we kiss in front of people.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, barely audible.

Matthew, being the pest he is, smirks at your words and asks you to repeat them. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. I need you to repeat it.”

“I think that we should practice kissing,” you say again, slightly louder, but Matthew’s shit-eating grin tells you that you’re going to have to repeat yourself.

“Come on, baby, I need to hear you loud and clear,” he walks over to you, and you shift in your seat to face him. You stand up, so you’re level with him (as much as you can be considering his height), and Matthew puts his hands on your waist. “This okay?” he asks, and you nod, but when he raises his eyebrows, you know you have to give him audible consent.

“Yes, Matthew, and I think that you should kiss me,” you tell him loud and clear. Matthew’s grin widens, and he dips his head towards yours. You put your hands around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him.

“This okay?” he asks with concern lacing his features. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.

“More than okay,” you reply and lean towards him. Matthew dips his head towards yours and places his lips softly on yours. He planned on pulling back and that being the end of the kiss, but his instincts and strong desire to kiss you stopped him. Matthew’s hands leave your waist and cup your face. He holds you forcefully but also gently. You both deepen the kiss, and your mouth separates as Matthew works his mouth against yours. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip begging to meet his. Matthew puts his hands back on your waist and pulls you close and flush against his body. There’s no space between the two of you, not a single inch of air. You both pull away after the kiss crossed the line between what your relationship truly was. You both pull away but your heads are still close to each other. You’re looking into Matthew’s blue eyes that are laced with longing and desire. You watch Matthew’s eyes glance down to your lips as you long for his lips to be on yours again.

“We have the practice, now,” Matthew says in a deep voice, almost huskily.

“That we do,” you reply softly.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Absolutely not, Matthew. I would have slapped you if you stepped out of line,” you tell him, and Matthew’s deep chuckle sends the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You take a step back from Matthew and sit back in your chair. “Maybe if we kiss in front of people, it shouldn’t be that deep and passionate.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Matthew tells you. He loved kissing you. Now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else. He wants to keep kissing you for as long as you would possibly let him. “Oh, that reminds me.”

“Mmhm?”

“I may or may not have let the cat slip out of the bag that I had a girlfriend, and now the team is expecting you to be at the last game tomorrow and our celebration.”

“Matthew!”

“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!”

“How does it just slip out?”

“Some people asked if I had a date for the Gala, and I said I was bringing my girlfriend.”

“So, I have to go to the game tomorrow?”

“Please?” Matthew pouts. “I’ll owe you big time.”

“You already owe me big time,” you point out.

“Fine, just come to the game tomorrow? You don’t have to wear my jersey or anything, just come?”

“I’ll be there, and if you give me a jersey, I’ll wear it, okay? Or, I can just wear Brady’s.”

“No, never. Wait, why do you have Brady’s jersey and not mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthew asks as he walks over to the door. You walk with him and unlock the door.

“See you tomorrow, fake boyfriend,” you tell him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Tomorrow, fake girlfriend,” Matthew says and walks out the door. When the door is closed, he places his hands on his cheek where you kissed him. He touches his lips softly remembering how you kissed him just recently. Just remembering your mouth being anywhere near his face made him melt. Matthew was digging himself into a hole he only hoped he’d be able to escape from.

. . .

You walked up to the Friends & Family box still trying to recover from Matthew kissing you barely twenty-four hours prior. You didn’t have Matthew’s jersey to wear, so you opted for a red shirt with jeans and a leather jacket. You’ve also never met anyone on the team before, so you were scared as to what they would say.

You stepped into the box and were instantly overwhelmed with what you saw. All the other wives and girlfriends and children were mingling around, and you felt out of place. One of the WAGs walked over to you, and said, “You must be Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I’m Annica, Elias’s girlfriend. Don’t worry about being nervous or whatever, Matthew is crazy about you, so we’re automatically crazy about you, too! Everyone, this is Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You stood there as everyone introduced themselves, and you maybe remembered two of those names.

“Matthew left you a jersey because he knew you didn’t have one,” Lauren, Mark’s wife, tells you. She hands you the jersey, and you look at it. Were you supposed to put it on? “You can just put it on over your shirt and leave your jacket on a chair.”

You nod. You put on the jersey and look down at the number on your sleeve. You smiled. You liked the way it looked on you.

Watching the game with the other girls was interesting and exciting. You chatted with the other women and played with the children. It was exhilarating to be in the Saddledome during a game, especially the last of the season. You haven’t been to a game in Calgary despite living there. Every time the Tkachuks came to town, you always told them you couldn’t go to the game. It didn’t feel right, but now that you’ve been to a game, you wanted to keep coming to the games. The Flames ended up coming out on top to celebrate their final game, and the arena was loud and bursting with happiness. You followed behind as everyone walked to outside the locker rooms to wait for the team. You stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. You played with your jacket in your hand just as Matthew walked out. He spotted you instantly, and his heart lurched through his chest as he saw you in his jersey. His eyes widened at seeing his number on your arm, and if possible, he fell more in love with you.

“Hey,” he says as he walks over. You look up and give him a wide smile.

“Hi,” you tell him and pull your fake boyfriend into a large hug as you whisper in his ear, “you played amazing.”

Your words send shivers down Matthew’s spine, and he holds you tightly. “Thank you.”

You both pull away and notice some of Matthew’s teammates and significant others greeting each other with congratulatory kisses. Were you both supposed to kiss? “Should we kiss, Matthew?” you whisper.

“What?” he whispers back, not sure if he heard you properly.

“You heard me, should we kiss? Everyone else is.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Would it be awkward if we didn’t?”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your response as he hungrily leans down and kisses you. Despite kissing you yesterday, Matthew was waiting earnestly for the day he’d get to kiss you again. It wasn’t as passionate as the night before, but somehow, it was even more intimate despite being in public. You both full away flushed with the kiss, and Matthew’s teammates holler around you both. “Oh, shut up.”

Matthew leads you to his car and holds your hand. “Did you want to come to celebrate with us?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought that was part of this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but not everyone is going out, so if you don’t want to, we can just head to my place.”

“We can go to your place, then.”

“Okay,” Matthew says to you and opens the car door for you. He closes the door and heads towards the driver’s side. When he gets in, he asks, “How did you get here if I’m driving you home?”

“Oh, I walked because I don’t work too far from here,” you explain, and Matthew whips his heat towards you. “What?”

“You walked? Do you not have a car?” he asks as if the notion were beyond him.

“Yeah, it was like ten minutes.”

“If you didn’t have a ride or something, I would have sent someone to pick you up.”

“I walk to work, Matthew.”

“You walk? No, from now on, I will be driving you to work and wherever you need to be.”

You giggle to yourself softly. “I have a car, but I just walk to work because it’s only five minutes.”

“No, I refuse to let you walk to work.”

“Matthew,” you say gently and place your hand on his thigh. “I’m fine, I promise, okay?”

Matthew looks at the soft look in your eyes and the anger he has dissipated. “Okay, but if you ever need a ride somewhere, please just let me know, and I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Okay, but I do have a car, you know,” you tell him, and Matthew starts the car and heads towards his apartment. Why was Matthew so concerned and angry about the fact that you don’t drive to work? You ponder the thought and are so deep in trying to figure it out that you don’t realize that you’ve reached Matthew’s apartment until he tells you so.

“You okay?” Matthew asks as you’re standing in the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Not sure, you seem kind of spaced out.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Promise?” Matthew asks.

“Promise,” you reply with a smile.

You and Matthew walk into his apartment, and your breath is taken away by the view of Matthew’s apartment. You take your shoes off and just stand there staring. You drop your purse and bag on the floor and walk over to the window in a trance.

“Yn, you good?” Matthew asks, confused about your actions.

“It’s just so pretty, Matthew,” you say and reach for your phone in your back pocket and take a photo. Matthew can’t help but smile at your actions. Sure, the view was pretty to him, but he saw it each day, so it wasn’t as special to him. Watching you take in the view, though, gave Matthew a new insight into how pretty the view truly was. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew was staring at you, looking beautiful with the dim lighting of his living room and wearing his jersey, instead of the view, but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful, and if he was talking about you? Then, so be it!

“I’m just going to get changed real quick, okay?” Matthew asks. He didn’t want to leave you standing there alone, but he knows he won’t be comfortable in his suit. “I can stay if you want.”

You giggle to yourself. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but —”

“Go,” you push Matthew in the direction of his room. “I’ll be fine.” Matthew looks behind him once more to you; you give him a pointed look, and Matthew walks to his room to change.

You settle yourself on the couch and sit there staring at the TV stand. On it are sitting picture frames with photos of Matthew’s family and friends. One photo, in particular, stands out to you. You get up and walk to the photo and smile at it. You pick it up and stare at it. It was a photo of Brady, Taryn, Matthew, your brother, and you. You don’t remember the photo being taken but it was around when you were six or seven. You were sitting at the table in Tkachuk's backyard before dinner. Matthew was sitting on your right, as he should, and with Taryn on your left.

“Find anything interesting?” Matthew asks as he walks out. He walks over to you and rests an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m surprised you have a photo of me sitting here,” you tell him and look at him.

“Why?” Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I just, I don’t know.”

Matthew walks over to the couch and sits. You place the photo back on the stand and join him. You sit next to him on your right, and Matthew, again, rests an arm around your shoulder. “I have photos of the important people in my life.”

Matthew turns on the TV and begins flipping through Netflix. He selects one of your favorite movies, and you’re surprised he knows it, but then again, Matthew seems to know more about you than you realized.

As the movie continues, you and Matthew move closer and closer together to the point where you’re cuddled into him and your head moves in sync with Matthew’s breathing. The warmth that Matthew’s body exudes and the pattern of his breaths put you to sleep. When Matthew notices you’ve fallen asleep, he doesn’t want to wake you, so he tightens his hold on you and grabs the blanket that was sitting over the couch (he silently thanks his mom for making him put it there), and he places it on you. He softly kisses your forehead with a soft, ”goodnight, Yn.”

. . .

The next morning, after you’ve woken up, eaten breakfast that Matthew made for you, and left for the day, Matthew was on his way to the Saddledome for the exit interviews of the season. It didn’t end the way the team wanted, but they fought tooth and nail until the last game, and they should be proud of that.

As Matthew walks into the locker room, he has a soft smile on his face of pure bliss.

“So, what did you and Yn do last night?” Noah teases when he sees his teammate. “You’re never one to turn down a night out.”

“I didn’t go out because Yn didn’t want to. I think she was overwhelmed with meeting everyone, and I just wanted her to be comfortable.”

“Wow, Matthew, look at you maturing for the better,” Mark teases. He was waiting for the day that Matthew would meet a girl and act this way for her.

“Whatever,” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“Matthew’s in looooove,” someone teases and everyone else laughs in response. Matthew, again, just rolls his eyes in response. He had no other response.

Matthew only wishes that the person he was in love with was him, too.

. . .

You’re standing outside Matthew’s apartment door with your dress in your hand with a bag of the things you needed to get ready over your shoulder. You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you were. You were about to ring the doorbell, but Matthew opened the door first.

“How did you know I was here?” you ask as you walk into his apartment.

“I mean, I had to buzz you into the building, so I was waiting for you,” Matthew says as if it were obvious.

“Oh.”

“You can shower first. I probably take less time than you to get ready, so you can shower first.”

You nod. “Okay, can I hang up my dress in your closet?”

“Yeah, of course. What color is it? I probably should have asked before, so that we could match.”

You smile. “It’s a lavender color. I doubt you own anything lavender.”

“My mom bought me a lavender dress shirt for Christmas, so, yes, I do own something lavender.”

You giggle to yourself softly and head into his bedroom to hand up your dress. You walk into his washroom and set your things there. “Thank you, Matthew.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “I left you towels and stuff. Just let me know when I can shower, okay?”

You nod. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly at a loss for words. What was it with Matthew?

After you showered, Matthew told you that, if you were comfortable, you could use the washroom as he showered. You told him it was fine and began styling your hair just as Matthew was showering. You were halfway done when you heard Matthew turn off the water. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he grabs the towel from behind the shower curtain. You try to calm your breathing as you watch Matthew step out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his hips and his broad shoulders and chest lined with water droplets. He stands next to you and begins to moisturize his face. You feel your face warm as you stand next to him.

Matthew walks out of the washroom, but he stops at the door and turns to you. “I’ll get ready in my bedroom, and you can get ready here. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll let you change in the bedroom.”

“Thanks, Matthew.”

“Sure,” he says and takes one step out of the washroom before stopping again. “Hey, yn?”

“Yes?” you turn to him.

“Your hair looks really pretty.”

“I haven’t finished, yet,” you point out.

“Fine, but I know for a fact that you’re going to look so incredibly beautiful.”

. . .

You put on your shoes and look at yourself once more in the mirror. You observe the way you look and take a deep breath. You take your steps out of the bedroom, and Matthew stands when he hears the clack of your heels. Matthew takes a deep breath, getting ready to see how beautiful you will undoubtedly look.

“Hey,” you say and stand in front of Matthew. You smile, and your breath stops when you see Matthew. He’s wearing a lavender shirt that matches your dress with a black tie, jacket, and pants. His clothes fit him perfectly, and it displays his body just the way clothes should.

“Hey,” he replies, and his breath stops, too. You were beautiful. The lavender gown hung on your body perfectly, and it accentuated each and every curve of your body perfectly. The color brought out your eyes, and they shone in the light. The dim light of Matthew’s apartment reflected off the design and details of your dress that Matthew knew he was going to be speechless when the light of the ballroom truly lit you up. “You’re beautiful, Yn. Gorgeous, yn!”

“Thank you,” you say bashfully and walk over to your fake boyfriend. You place your hands on his chest and straighten his tie. “You look amazing, too, Matthew.”

Matthew’s breath is shallow as you run your hands on his chest. His heart is beating through his chest, and he knows that he’s going to have to use all his energy and brainpower not to stare at you the entire night. You stop and rest your hands on his chest. “Ready to go?” you ask.

Matthew audibly swallows at your touch. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. He takes your hand and leads you towards the door. “Did you want to put your stuff in your car and drive home, or do you want to just stay the night and drive home in the morning?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Matthew won’t admit it, but he wanted you to stay the night.

As Matthew drives to the location of the Gala, he continues taking peeks at you. He isn’t sure what he’s done to get someone as beautiful as you as his date, but he’s thanking any and every higher being for blessing him with you.

Throughout the entire night, Matthew has to force himself to leave you for moments every now and then to do his job. It was difficult. He wanted to be right by your side and show the world how lucky he got to be right next to you. You were the star, and Matthew was one of your many admirers. When Matthew wasn’t talking to donors and was right next to you, he found it difficult to speak. When you’d ask a question or make a comment, Matthew would take a few seconds to reply because of you. Your laughter, your smile, and your perfume were intoxicating, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he would make it through the rest of the night.

Annica wanted to grab another drink from the bar, so you went with her. Matthew, reluctantly, removed his hand from the small of your back and watched you lovingly as you went off with Annica. When he lost sight of you, Matthew finally turned his attention back to the group at the table.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not whipped for her and in love with her,” Elias says.

“Matthew not in love, who?” Noah jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew says. It didn’t matter if he was in love with you because you weren’t in love with him.

“Look, the minute Yn comes back, Matthew is going to put a hand on her, either on her shoulder or on her back, smile down at her, and pull her close to him. I guarantee it,” Jacob says. He was watching the two of you interact the entire night, and he knows that this will happen as it happened every time you and Matthew got separated.

“I see your point, and I raise you with this: he’s going to lean down and kiss Yn on the forehead,” Johnny adds.

“I see both your points, and I raise you with this: Matthew’s going to look at Yn, and she’s going to look at him, and they will both smile widely at each other,” Elias points out.

“Are you guys betting again?” Mark asks as he settles himself at the table as he’s making his rounds.

“Kind of. We’re trying to figure out how Yn and Matthew are going to act when she returns,” Noah explains.

“Oh, drop the subject,” Matthew says, annoyed.

“I’m not sure what has been said, but I guess that Matthew will be so enthralled by his date that everything in the world will fade away,” Mark says, “because that’s what a person in love does.”

“Look, I’m not in love with Yn, okay? Can we just drop the subject before Yn and Annica return?” Matthew replies exasperatedly.

Everyone agrees, but they all know that they will be monitoring your and Matthew’s actions when you return. Just a few moments later, you and Annica are returning to the table with a refill of drinks. You settle in next to Matthew and place a glass of wine down for you and a glass of beer for him.

“You were empty, so I got you a refill,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” he says to you and places a hand on the small of your back where it was before you left. You lean in further to him, and Matthew smiles down at you as you engage in conversation with Mark. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead, and you look up and smile at Matthew who smiles back at you. Elias mentions Matthew’s name, but Matthew is too soaked up in your presence to notice. The group is shocked. Every single one of them guessed correctly what Matthew would do when you returned.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Mark begins, “I’m going to go ask the Mrs. for a dance.”

Elias and Annica leave, too, and head to the dance floor. You stand there awkwardly wondering if you and Matthew should dance. Matthew leans his head towards yours and whispers, “Do you want to dance, Yn?”

You look at Matthew and nod with a smile. Matthew takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. He takes one hand in his and the other rests on the bare skin of your upper back. You place your other hand not in Matthew’s on his shoulder and move close to him. You both sway to the music that’s playing. As you both continue to dance, Matthew’s hand draws soft patterns on your skin sending electric shocks through your body. As the song comes to an end, the bubble you and Matthew found yourself in slowly pops, and you return to reality. It didn’t matter how special dancing with each other was, you were both not truly dating. You were living a lie, and you knew it would hurt when, one day, the ruse was over. You only hoped that you could salvage your feelings and not hurt your heart too much. You weren’t sure, though, what you were trying to save your heart from.

. . .

“Ready to head home?” Matthew whispers into your ear as you’re talking with some of the WAGs. You nod and say goodbye to the ladies. Matthew wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders as he notices you’re cold and takes your hand in his. “Thank you for being my date.”

You smile. “Thank you for taking me. I had a lot of fun.”

“I had a lot of fun with the beautiful person as my date.”

“Oh, beautiful person? Who may they be?” you tease.

“They’re you, of course. The most beautiful of people.”

“You flatter me, Matthew.”

“You deserve all the compliments in the world, Yn,” Matthew squeezes your hand and opens the car door for you. You smile in gratitude as he closes the door and heads to the driver's side. You smile in happiness at the evening you had. Matthew intertwines his hand with yours as he drives. With the late hour and the comfort of Matthew’s hand, you feel your eyes drift closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did.

“Yn? You have to wake up; we’re back at my apartment, now,” Matthew says softly as he strokes your face softly to wake you.

You slowly open your eyes, and your lips quirk up at the sound of Matthew’s soft voice. You nod and move to get out of the car.

“No, no, I’ll get the door for you,” Matthew interrupts. You’re too tired to argue, so you just let Matthew rush out of the car to open the door for you. Matthew leads you back to his apartment and ushers you into his bedroom. “You can sleep here, and I’ll take the guest room.”

“No, Matthew, I’ll take the guest room,” you interject.

“No, Yn. You did me the biggest favor by coming as my date tonight, so you can take my bed.”

“Matthew —” you were going to point out that you were taking him to Shelly’s wedding, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Yn, just take the bed, okay? You can grab a shirt and sweatpants to wear to bed.”

You nod, and Matthew walks out of the room with clothes for himself. He closes the door quietly behind him as he heads to the guest room. His one wish was that he was sleeping in that bed with you instead of you there alone.

. . .

“Yn, come on, we have to go,” Matthew says, standing in your kitchen and waiting for you to be ready to leave.

“Just give me a moment. We’ve got quite a bit of time, still.”

“You know, you’re the one who told me I had to be here at exactly this time, Yn, so you should be ready to go.”

You walk out of your bedroom lugging your suitcase and purse. Matthew rushes over to you and takes your suitcase out of your hand. In the process, Matthew’s hand brushes over yours, and you hear your heartbeat in your ears as the heat rushes to your face. “Let me just make sure that all the windows are closed and that I unplugged everything.”

When you return and are completely ready to go, you lock the door to your apartment and head to Matthew’s car. He opens the trunk to place your suitcase in, and as usual, Matthew opens the car door for you.

“You know, you don’t have to always open the car door for me, right?” you tell him.

“Just doing what any boyfriend would,” Matthew points out. “Fake or not.”

“Right,” you say. It’s been a while since you or he pointed out the fakeness of your relationship, and you almost forgot. Almost. Matthew turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to ask if you’re upset that he pointed out that you were both fake dating despite that being the obvious title between you two? You reach to turn on some music to try to ease the awkwardness in the car. You put on Taylor Swift, and Matthew groans in response.

“You know the way Taryn and I were growing up; I can’t believe you’re shocked.”

“I thought you’d show me some mercy, you know as your boyfriend?”

“I show zero mercy.”

. . .

Going through checking in and security was a breeze. You got on the plane fine just, but the nerves immediately hit as the pilot announced that the doors were closing. Your leg begins to bounce up and down, and you begin to fiddle with your fingers. Matthew glances down at you and notices your nerves.

“You’ve been on a plane before, right?” he whispers.

You nod. “Just scary sometimes.”

He nods and places his hand on your thigh causing it to stop bouncing. You feel all your nerves suddenly dissipate. “I’m here, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you whisper back. Matthew lifts the armrest between you both and scoots closer to you. He pulls you into his side, so you’re leaning against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Matthew takes your hand in his.

“It’s not a long flight. You’ll be okay.”

. . .

“Hey, you have to wake up,” Matthew whispers as he strokes your head softly. Your eyes flutter open. You didn’t realize you fell asleep on Matthew during the flight. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you yawn.

Matthew smiles softly at you. “You slept through the flight, so that’s good.”

“Oh, we landed?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, let’s get off this plane, what do you say?”

You grab your purse from under the seat in front of you, and Matthew grabs his carry-on from the overhead bin. He packed significantly more than you because he wasn’t flying home with you. Matthew would be staying in St. Louis until he flies back to Calgary for training camp.

Matthew extends his hand for you, and you take it. He walks into the aisle first with one hand holding his bag and the other behind him holding your hand. You both exit the plane and head towards customs and baggage claims.

You take a deep breath once you’re in line for customs. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t realize the nerves that would come with it. Would you be able to survive this week with Matthew?

. . .

“You go in first and get us settled; I’ll pay for the taxi,” you tell Matthew when your taxi pulls up to the hotel.

“Nope, you go in; I pay,” Matthew counters.

“Matthew —”

“I am your boyfriend, no? Just let me do this.”

“Okay,” you relent softly and head into the hotel with your luggage in tow. You head to the check-in desk. There isn’t a line, and you get your room information and key quickly. You meet Matthew at where he’s standing and lead him towards the elevator door. You both wait for the elevator in silence and walk inside in the same silence. You lead him towards your eighth-floor room and walk inside. “I made sure to request two beds, so we don’t have to share.”

“Smart,” Matthew says. You unlock the door and walk inside. You groan when you see the layout of the room and what it contains — one bed.

“Oh,” you mumble. “Only one bed.”

“What? Oh,” Matthew says as he stands next to you.

“Let me call down and see if they have another room for us.”

Matthew nods. He was frozen solid at the thought of sleeping next to you. He watches as you walk over to the phone and call down to the front desk. You tell them your issue, and Matthew watches as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration. You end the call with a “thank you, it’s no problem” and look to Matthew.

“What’s the verdict?” Matthew asks.

“They have three wedding parties staying here and no extra room with two beds for us.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Matthew suggests.

You shake your head. “We’re both adults. I’m sure we can sleep in the same bed without any issues arising.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Matthew breathes out. His throat is dry and the words are barely forming on his tongue. You nod towards Matthew and begin unpacking. You hang up your dresses in the closet and line your shoes against the wall.

“Make sure you hang up your suit, so it doesn’t get wrinkly,” you remind Matthew as you head to the washroom to unpack your toiletries. Matthew nods and does what you say. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so nervous and clammy, but he figures it’s because you are both going to be sleeping in the same bed. You both move in sync with each other as you settle into the hotel room. Once Matthew has finished, he settles on the couch and turns the TV on. You awkwardly get on the couch, and Matthew chuckles at you.

It would be a restful night, right?

. . .

After meeting with the rest of the bridal party and making sure everything was perfect for the rehearsal the next day and the wedding the day after, you head into your hotel room and see Matthew sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” you say as you get ready to shower.

“How were your preparations?” he asks.

“Not bad. I’m tired, but it’s all worth it if Shelly gets the wedding of her dreams.”

Matthew nods.

“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed; if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Matthew replies as you head to the washroom to shower. While in the shower, you did everything in your power to prolong your time there because you knew that when you finished, you’d be going to sleep. You’d be going to be sleeping in the same bed as Matthew.

Once you’ve showered and gotten ready for the night, you walk out of the washroom and see Matthew standing next to the bed.

“I pulled out the blankets and stuff when I heard the tap turn off,” Matthew bashfully tells you when you notice the bed. “I figured you’re tired and stuff, so I was trying to help.”

You smile softly at the man. “Thank you, Matthew.”

He nods at your words. “What do we do now? Should we call down for more pillows and make, like, a pillow wall?”

“Um, I don’t think we have to do that. It’s big enough where we probably won’t get in each other’s way.”

“Yeah, probably,” Matthew lies. He isn’t sure if now is the right time to mention he’s an active sleeper and moves around a lot. “You can get in first.”

“Okay,” you say and move towards the bed. You get under the covers and sigh at the comfort of the bed. You lay on your back, a position that isn’t the most comfortable for you. When you’re done, Matthew gets under the covers, and he, too, lays on his back. You don’t think it’s the most comfortable for him, either. You lean over to turn the lights off, so the entire room is cascaded in darkness. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Night, Yn.”

You both lay there in awkward silence and stare up at the ceiling. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to talk to each other until the other fell asleep? Was it okay to face each other as you slept? What happened if you woke up in a compromising position? Would your friendship (was this a friendship?) be awkward? What would the morning be like? How awkward would it be? Should you be thinking about the fact that Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt next to you? No, you shouldn’t be, but here you are thinking about Matthew’s bare chest.

You took a deep breath and hoped for sleep to easily overcome you.

Thankfully, it did. You fell asleep, and when your alarm went off, you were surprised you slept through the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep of your life. The pillows and blankets exuded this comfort and warmth that cocooned you and made it easy to fall asleep. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked by the sight in front of you. You blinked your eyes to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Nope, you definitely weren’t dreaming.

Matthew Tkachuk, your fake boyfriend and boy who has hated you since you were ten, was cuddling you into his chest. Not only that, his arms were wound tightly around your waist with your forehead comfortably on his chest. Both of your legs were intertwined with each other, and your arms were grasping his waist. No wonder you slept so well.

“Oh, good morning,” Matthew says quietly. You look up at him and notice that it looks like he’s been up for a little bit.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask.

“Wow, no good morning? I’m hurt,” Matthew pouts.

“Good morning, Matthew; how long have you been awake?”

“About half an hour?”

“And you didn’t wake me knowing we were sleeping like this?” you say annoyed and slowly pull away. Once you’re fully out of his grasp, you wish you remained in his grasp. Matthew’s body exuded this comfort and warmth that made you happy and comfortable. You wished you could return to Matthew’s hold and embrace without it seeming weird.

“You were very comfortable, it looked like, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and I figured you’d be more upset if I woke you, so I didn’t. Are you upset that I didn’t wake you?”

You ponder over his last question for a moment. No, you weren’t upset that he woke you. “No, it’s okay. I just slightly overreacted.”

“No need to apologize. You reacted just fine.”

You nod. “I have to get ready for wedding stuff, but we can go down to get breakfast together.”

“Yes, whatever you say,” Matthew replies and watches you get out of bed and towards your suitcase and washroom. Matthew wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was up for hours. He got up hours before because he was warm and needed to turn the AC up higher, but when he realized the situation you were both in, Matthew refused to get up. When else would Matthew be able to hold the person he’s been in love with his entire life who doesn’t love him back?

. . .

“You have the rehearsal tonight, right?” Matthew asks from outside the washroom as you’re doing your makeup. He walks over to the dresser and begins looking at the jewelry you’ve laid across it.

“Yeah, sorry that I can’t bring you. It’s a small thing with just Shelly’s family and bridal party. That means, though, that our big fake dating debut will be tomorrow at the reception,” you say from the washroom. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents at a restaurant around the corner. I know you said that you have a ride to and from where you have to be, but if you need a ride, just call me, okay?”

You smile to yourself from the washroom where Matthew can’t see you. There was something about his concern that made you smile like crazy. “Okay, Matthew. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he begins. “I am your boyfriend after all.” He mutters under his breath the word “fake” with a scowl. He hated being just your fake boyfriend.

You begin to pack your things back into your toiletries bag so as not to leave a mess, and you walk out of the washroom. “How do I look?” you ask when you’re in full view of Matthew. He immediately looks up from where he was staring at your necklace, and his jaw drops.

“Wow, you — I, wow! You’re gorgeous, Yn,” Matthew says with wonder and awe in his eyes. You take your hands and place them on the hem of your skirt and look down. Matthew walks over to you and takes one of your hands and twirls you. You giggle in response, and Matthew catches you with his hands on your waist. “You’re beautiful, Yn.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a step back to admire you.

“I get to be your date tomorrow? Aren’t I the luckiest guy on the planet?”

You giggle again and make your way to the dresser to put on the necklace sitting there. It’s a matching necklace you and Shelly both bought at the age of 18. “Can you help me put it on?”

Matthew’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he soaks you in and your request. He nods and takes the necklace gently from you. You turn around, so your back is to him, and Matthew places the necklace around your neck. He fiddles with the clasp and whispers a soft “there you go” when he’s finished. You turn around and look into his eyes.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you say nervously but hide it with a smile. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, but you suddenly are. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act Matthew just performed for you. “Have fun with your family tonight.”

“Have fun at the rehearsal! Text me when you’re on your way back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you slip on your shoes and make your way towards the door. “Night, Matthew.”

You walk out the door before Matthew could respond. “Night,” he says even though it’s pointless. In his head, Matthew is replaying the vision of you walking out in your blush pink dress and how beautiful you looked. Matthew knows that whoever gets to be the one to call you their girlfriend will be the luckiest person in the world. He only wishes he were the one.

. . .

Matthew walks into the restaurant his family picked, still reeling from how beautiful you looked. It was at that moment when Matthew saw you when he realized he was truly gone. Matthew has dug himself into a hole that he knows he’s never going to get out of. Now that Matthew has experienced you as a date, in his arms in his apartment, at one of his games, kissing you, and sleeping next to you, Matthew knows that no one else will compare to you. He knows that when this ruse is over, he will be heartbroken beyond repair. Is he choosing to do something about it? Nope, not at all because to him, if he can have even a little bit of you, even if it’s under the guise of being fake, then he’ll take it.

He sits at the table his parents and siblings were already at and greets them. It’s not even two seconds after he sits before they all corner him about dating you.

“So, you and Yn, huh?” Brady smirks.

“Don’t start, please,” Matthew warns.

“I’ll start, then,” Taryn prompts. “I can’t believe you finally got Yn to date you after you’ve harbored a crush on her for all these years and hated her.”

“Can we not?” Matthew asks.

“Nope, not happening, we are going to question you about every single detail. Who knows, maybe you two will be the next ones to get married.”

“Okay, Taryn, take a step back,” Keith chuckles.

“I think you should take a step forward,” Brady prompts. “Considering how head over heels Matthew has been, Taryn’s right.”

Matthew just rolls his eyes and sighs. “Can we just order and have a normal meal, please?”

“This conversation isn’t over yet,” Taryn warns, and Matthew just rolls his eyes.

After deciding what to eat and ordering, Taryn was true to her word and began to question Matthew about his dating life. “How did it start? What was your first date like? Did Yn slap you when you first asked her out? I need details, Matthew!”

“Did you ever consider that Yn and I want privacy about our relationship?” Matthew snaps.

“Right, but this is the weirdest pairing ever, so I feel like I should get something out of you,” Taryn defends herself.

“There isn’t much to say. A few months back, Yn called me saying she needed a familiar face because she was homesick, so we met up. We realized that we liked each other and here we are.”

Chantal gives her son a curious look. That was the exact statement and explanation that you gave her when she called you a few weeks after she found out about you and Matthew. Either that was the reality of the situation or you both practiced this many times. Chantal thinks it’s probably the latter because she knows her son. She knows that if you and Matthew were for real, then he’d be telling everyone how much he liked you.

“That’s it? I thought there’d be more! Something more romantic or something,” Taryn pouts, and Matthew just shrugs. He wishes he could have made a more romantic story for how you both started dating because that’s what you deserve, but you wouldn’t have any of it.

“I agree with Taryn,” Brady adds. “Yn, as we know, is a hopeless romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t stepped up your game to match Yn’s romantic side.”

“Look, maybe we do have a romantic relationship, but we just want to keep it private,” Matthew growls.

“Alright, let’s just let the topic go,” Chantal interjects and inserts an out for Matthew. “Will you be sitting with us tomorrow?”

“During the ceremony, probably because Yn is part of the procession and all that. I’m not sure during the reception, though, because I think it’s open seating.”

“Okay, that’s understandable,” Chantal says just as their meals arrive. Matthew lets out a sigh of relief. He was able to keep the story about your ruse straight and evade any questions that could poke holes into the story. He could only wish that what was happening between you two was real.

. . .

Just as Matthew was getting interrogated by his family, your brother and Shelly were on their way to interrogate you. It was after the rehearsal, and everyone in attendance was at the restaurant catching up. Your brother walks over to you and whispers that Shelly wants to talk to you. Being the maid of honor, you figured that she needed help with last-minute wedding preparations. You weren’t expecting an ambush.

Your brother leads you to where Shelly’s sitting, and you expect him to leave. However, when he sits right next to you with Shelly across from you, you know that you’re getting interrogated.

“Don’t you have to go be with your pregnant wife?” you ask your brother pointedly hoping to get out of the conversation.

“No, she wants this information as much as I do,” he retorts.

“You and Tkachuk?” Shelly shrieks. Some of the other guests turn to the commotion but turn away when they see it’s only the bride getting excited about something. “I always knew he had the hots for you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever do anything about it. Wow, I’m impressed it didn’t take more time for it to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew never had the hots for you. This situation was purely platonic and aiding each other's social calendars.

“Oh, come on,” Shelly rolls her eyes. “You have to have known that Matthew was crazy in love with you in high school.”

“And that explains his treatment of me?”

“It’s what insecure guys do when they crush on someone who is way out of their league,” your brother explains. “For what it’s worth, you are way out of Matthew’s league, and the only reason that I haven’t confronted him is that I know him. But still, Matthew? Why him?”

“How did it start? Is he a good kisser? Does he make you smile like crazy? Is he the super romantic boyfriend that you’ve always wanted? Is he good in bed?” Shelby begins but is stopped by your brother making a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t want to think about you and Matthew sleeping together. “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”

“It’s alright,” he grumbles, and Shelly throws you a wink knowing that she’d ask you about this later.

“The other questions are still valid, though.”

“It started because I was homesick. I realized that I missed home and needed a familiar face, so I called Matthew. From there, we realized that there was something there between us,” you explain hoping that your brother and Shelly would accept the story.

“More like you finally realized it,” Shelly corrects. You were about to contradict her words, but wouldn’t that break the facade you and Matthew have built? “What about the rest of the stuff?”

You shrug.

“That’s it? There’s nothing else you can say about it?”

“I like keeping my relationship private,” you say softly hoping it came across as confident despite the guilt you felt lying to your brother and best friend.

“Sure, and did this happen before you and I talked about bringing a date to the wedding?” Shelly questions further. She knows that if you liked someone and were crazy about them, then you’d be talking about this person constantly. She isn’t buying the story.

“We started talking before, but we made our relationship official shortly after your call,” you lie, again. You make a mental note to tell Matthew this so that when Shelly did interrogate him, he’d have that information.

“But you insisted you didn’t have anyone to bring as a date,” Shelly points out.

“You also called me if any of my friends would want to bring you,” your brother points out smugly. You glare at him and kick him under the table.

“I wasn’t sure if bringing Matthew would be like cheating because I knew he was invited to the wedding,” you quickly retorted. Would that be enough to have them lay off you?

“Sure, sure,” Shelly begins. “Look, if your relationship is of convenience, you know, for pleasure, you can say that.”

What? “What?” you and your brother speak at the same time. She wasn’t interrogating you because she thought you and Matthew were faking. She thought you and Matthew had a friends-with-benefits relationship! Somehow, that calms your nerves and helps you relax.

“Oh, so it’s a real relationship,” Shelly says with a grin. “I was wrong?”

“Yes, it’s a real relationship,” you laugh.

“I mean, if it were a pleasure-seeking based relationship, then I’d also be okay with that because you do need to make yourself happy,” Shelly winks.

“Okay, I’m done here,” your brother immediately gets up and walks over to his wife. You and Shelly both giggle.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I have to get back to bride duties. I know that I was shocked when you told me you were dating Tkachuk earlier and didn’t react the way you wanted me to, but I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. He treated you like crap when you were in high school, and I don’t want him to go back to that version of himself. You seem happy, though, so ignore me.”

Shelly kisses your forehead and finds her fiance. You knew you weren’t going to get hurt because what you were both doing was merely for show. You both weren’t actually dating, so there were no feelings to be hurt, but one thing stuck out to you. Matthew liked you in high school? You weren’t sure why that unsettled you so much, but it did. Why would he have treated you like crap if he liked you? Would you and Matthew hurt each other? What happens when you both end this ruse? You know you’ll miss the way Matthew could always put a smile on your face and bring out giggle after giggle from you. You’d miss the way his smile or hand in yours would make your heart burst and make you warm inside and out. Were you on the path to getting hurt?

. . .

As Keith and Brady are arguing about the bill, Matthew and Chantal step outside to wait for them, and Taryn is in the washroom.

“So, you and Yn?” Chantal begins.

“Mom,” Matthew groans.

“I find it funny that the story that you told tonight to us is exactly what Yn told me a few weeks ago.”

“It’s what happened, so it makes sense that Yn told you the same thing,” Matthew lies.

“Yeah, but it was the exact same story, Matthew.”

Matthew looks at his mother, and he knows that she’s read through fabrication. “We both needed dates for things, so we thought we’d pretend to date to make it easier on both of us,” Matthew mumbles.

Chantal looks at her son and sees the forlorn expression on his face. “But you like her.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, mom,” Matthew says sadly as if he finally realized the hopelessness of the situation.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

“Because, mom, it’s like Taryn was saying earlier and why it shocks you so much. I treated Yn like crap when we were growing up, and I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“But you love her.”

“I never hated her; I just didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Chantal admits. Her heart breaks as she watches her son run his hands through his hair sadly as he admits to feelings. “I haven’t seen you both around each other, but who knows, maybe Yn does feel the same way.”

“No, I know for a fact she doesn’t. It’s okay, at least I have this,” Matthew says. Keith and Brady walk out of the restaurant at that moment with Taryn close on their heels. Keith slaps Matthew’s back and asks what Matthew was talking about. Matthew shrugs it off with a curt “nothing.” Matthew didn’t want the rest of his family to know about the reality of his dating life. He also knows that you’d rather not let that information come out.

“On Sunday, you and Yn should come over for dinner,” Chantal suggests. “Like tradition.”

“I’ll ask Yn,” Matthew answers.

“It’s not a request, Matthew,” Chantal says and walks with her husband. Well, then you and Matthew are going to dinner at the Tkachuk’s on Sunday.

. . .

The next morning after the rehearsal, you had to force yourself to pull yourself out of Matthew’s embrace. You’ve both woken up in the same entanglement as the morning before, but this time, you liked it. You enjoyed the warmth and comfort his hold produced. You groan as you get out of bed and walk to the washroom in the cold away from Matthew. You had to be up early to get things ready for the makeup artist, hairdresser, and photographer. You briefly washed your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and your “I Do Crew” t-shirt that was made for you. You grab your dress, shoes, and jewelry before heading over closer to the bed to grab your phone and purse. You place everything down and kiss Matthew on the forehead. You smiled at how peaceful and cute he looked as he was still sleeping.

If only it were real.

. . .

When Matthew’s alarm went off a few hours later, he moved closer to your pillow hoping to hold you for a little bit longer. When his head hits your cold pillow, Matthew’s chipper mood deflates when he realizes you’re not gone. He knows that you had to leave early for wedding preparations, but it still hurts knowing that you weren’t there to wake up next to him. In the past few days, Matthew has gotten used to waking up next to you. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when you both return to your normal lives and he can no longer wake up next to you.

. . .

“Well, you look nice, Matthew,” Chantal says as Matthew sits in the row next to his family. Matthew straightens his tie. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervousness. Chantal observes her son from the corner of her eye and smiles at his actions.

“Have you seen Yn yet today?” Chantal leans over and asks. Matthew shakes his head no; he was nervous to see you. Matthew got a glimpse of your bridesmaid’s dress, and he knows you’re going to be just as beautiful, if not more, than the night of the rehearsal.

Matthew and his family continue to chat quietly, and everyone in the crowd abruptly ends their conversations as Shelly’s groom heads to the front of the aisle. In a matter of seconds, the orchestra begins to play the “Wedding March”, and everyone turns their heads to the aisle awaiting the procession. The groomsmen process down the aisle and take their places. Following the groomsmen are the bridesmaids. As each woman processes down the aisle and takes their places, Matthew is confused when he doesn’t see you among them. Matthew assumes, though, that because you’re the maid of honor, you have something special to do.

Matthew’s suspicions are confirmed when you walk down the aisle in your blush, floor-length, off-the-shoulder dress with your right hand holding the hand of the flower girl and your left hand holding a bouquet. As you walk down the aisle, Matthew is entranced by you. He stops breathing and blinking as he watches you. He watches as you lead the flower girl to her place and stand behind her. When everyone’s attention is turned to Shelly and her father walking down the aisle, Matthew’s attention is focused on you. He knew you were beautiful, but you were beautiful. There isn’t any difference between the two words, Matthew knows, but the latter word somehow means more. Matthew keeps telling himself it’s the dress, but he knows it’s not just the dress. It’s the person wearing the dress. It’s the way your face glowed from happiness at the new couple and the makeup you had on. It was the way your hair flowed impeccably in the breeze. It’s the way you looked amazing in that dress that had Matthew frozen. You were the most beautiful person Matthew has ever seen, and he didn’t want to look away.

When you catch Matthew’s eye, he swears he died and came back to life. You smile softly at him, but he doesn’t do anything. He just stands there staring at you as the officiant continues to talk. Chantal notices you trying to stifle a giggle and turns to her son to see if he had anything to do with it. When she sees Matthew just staring at you, she elbows him.

“Smile at her,” Chantal directs. That, it seemed, was what finally took Matthew out of his trance. He blinks and takes a deep breath right before sending you his signature smile. You shake your head playfully when you notice that Chantal had to remind him to smile and pay attention. You turn your attention back to the ceremony happening right in front of you as the officiant directs everyone to sit. You also try to ignore the hole it feels like Matthew (and the rest of the Tkachuks) were burning into the back of your head.

Because you were the maid of honor, you were one of the official witnesses and had to stand behind the bride. Through it all, Matthew was watching you. He was captivated by you, enamored by you. You met his eye a few times and had to force yourself not to laugh as a blush overcame his face and he turned away. Taryn, thinking that the next wedding she’d be attending was between you and Matthew, was watching the interactions between you two. The first time she watched you looked constipated as you tried to hide a giggle, she knew Matthew was the reason. After the second time, Taryn made sure to keep an eye on Matthew, too, so he could watch his reaction. Normally, in relationships, Matthew was confident, cocky, and full of himself. He was always the one to make the person he was dating speechless, shy, and look away bashfully. This time, though, you were the one in control, overtaking Matthew’s usual position. This time, Matthew was the one who was smiling bashfully and looking away whenever you’d meet his eye.

Taryn noticed that you stopped turning your attention to Matthew when the vows began to focus on the bride and groom. That doesn’t mean, though, that Matthew was paying attention to the happy couple. He was still watching you.

“Hey, Matthew,” Taryn leans over her mother and whispers.

That seems to take Matthew out of his trance as he rolls his eyes at his sister's words. “What?”

“Stop staring at your girlfriend. You’re trying to get her to marry you, not run away from you.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Matthew doesn’t say anything except to stare ahead. This time, though, he doesn’t place his eyes on you. No, he places his eyes on the couple hoping to get his family off his case. He didn’t want to face the reality of the situation that Matthew wasn’t trying to get you to marry him despite him knowing you were the one. He hoped to ignore the true reason why Matthew was here as your date and not as a family friend. During the rest of the ceremony, Matthew doesn’t look at you once. He opts to look at the couple, the officiant, or the beauty of the outdoor venue. He hopes that by not looking at you, Matthew can escape the reality that he’s in love with you and you, it seems, are not.

When the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, you and the rest of the wedding party are getting ready to take photos during the Cocktail Hour. You try to make your way to find Matthew and see him because you missed him, but every time it seemed you had a chance, he was busy or was avoiding you.

Eventually, the Cocktail Hour was over and everyone was heading into the location of the reception. After you’ve made your rounds, you look around to see where Matthew was or your brother. You weren’t sure who you were going to sit with, but you were hoping to sit next to Matthew, though. You weren’t sure why Matthew was in a sour mood, but you knew you caused it. You only hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” Brady says as he walks up to you. He is holding a fresh drink in his hand, so you assume he was coming from the bar.

“Thank you,” you murmur, wondering if Matthew was around, too.

“Matthew, don’t you think so, too?” Brady says, and you turn your head to where Brady was directing his question to.

“Hi,” you whisper when your eyes lock with Matthew’s. You see anger in his eyes and are suddenly worried that Matthew is truly upset at you. However, Matthew’s face softens when you send him a soft smile, and the anger leaves his face.

“Are you sitting with us?” Brady asks.

“Of course, she’s sitting with us,” Matthew says and walks over to and wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

You smile and let Matthew lead you to where his family is sitting. Matthew pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and he pushes it in for you. Matthew takes the seat next to you, and you’re suspicious that it was Brady’s when he grumbled about sitting in the chair next to you. Immediately upon sitting, Matthew places his hand on your thigh and scoots his chair closer to yours.

As the night carried on, Matthew never took his hand off your thigh, and he constantly whispered in your ear asking if you were okay. If you needed a refill on a drink, Matthew always went to the bar to get you a refill and insisted you shouldn’t have to get up. He always returned by placing the drink on the table and placing a kiss on your forehead.

When he returned with your third or fourth refill of the night, you smiled at him as he sat down and told him, “You know, I’m starting not to hate you anymore.”

Matthew looks at you sadly at your words. You still had animosity towards him? He thought he’s been working so hard to change your opinion of him, but it seems it's just barely working. You notice the strain and sadness in Matthew’s pout and wonder if you did something wrong. You place your hand on his thigh and look into his eyes. The minute your hand touched his thigh, Matthew was fine. It didn’t matter what you said because he knows he cares about you, and he knows that deep down, you care for him, too, despite your words.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m sitting next to the prettiest person in the world; why wouldn’t I be okay?”

You smile at Matthew’s words and rest your head on his shoulder. What were you going to do when you and Matthew no longer could be like this? You knew you were going to miss it.

. . .

As the reception is nearing the final hours, everyone’s moods have turned more casual and laid back, including you and Matthew. Both of your chairs were right up against each other with you leaning heavily against Matthew with your head resting on his chest. His hand was wrapped around your shoulders and was rubbing small patterns on your shoulder. You and Matthew are talking to Brady and Taryn when a slow song, one of your favorites, begins to play. You perk up slightly, wondering if you should ask Matthew to dance with you.

“Hey, Yn, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” Brady instigates.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” you reply, and Matthew looks down at you softly.

“Do you want to dance, Yn?” Matthew asks. You nod and slowly pull away so he can lead you to the dance floor. You and Matthew position yourselves so that your hands are resting just below his neck with his resting on your mid-back. You both sway to the song, and you’re both entranced with each other’s eyes. As the song continues, Matthew’s hands slowly rise up to the bare skin of your upper back. He begins to stroke soft patterns on your skin, and it sends chills up your spine. You pull yourself closer to Matthew to try to use his warmth to evade the chills. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

As the song comes to an end, Matthew licks his lips and leans his head towards yours. He pulls his head back slightly. Was this appropriate? He didn’t have the chance to further contemplate kissing you because you pulled away and led him back to the table. His one true regret that evening is that he didn’t kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you badly, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you.

He knows he’s dug himself into a hole he will never get out of.

. . .

“What are you doing today?” Matthew asks as you’re getting ready for the day. Based on his tone, you know something’s up, and you have to agree with whatever it is.

“Why?” you ask nervously.

“Would you want to go to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner? Like pastimes?”

You turn to face Matthew and smirk at him. “I feel like I don’t have a choice here.”

“My mom said that I had to bring you, no negotiations, so yeah, you have no choice.��

You laugh. “Okay, I can go to your parents’ for Sunday dinner, but I know my parents and brother won’t be there. They have plans tonight.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Matthew asks knowing he wants to spend the day with you.

“I’m going to visit some friends from high school; what are you doing?”

“Just hanging around. Nothing much.”

“Okay then, why don’t I meet you back here, and then we can head over to your parents’ house?”

“Perfect,” Matthew says and turns away from you to go shower. On his face, he’s wearing a wide smile. He only hoped that you were just as excited as he was.

. . .

Unlike when you were growing up, you didn’t stay outside with the boys while Chantal and Keith got dinner together. This time, you and Taryn were in the kitchen helping Chantal cook while Brady and Matthew were out at the grill helping Keith. Now and then, you’d look out the backyard window and notice Matthew. Sometimes, he’d meet your eye and wink at you, and your face would grow warm. Or, sometimes, he wouldn’t be looking at you, but you saw him turn his head away as if he was just looking at you. Sometimes, he didn’t notice you looking at all, and you loved watching him interact with his dad and brother.

“He seems lighter when he’s around you,” Chantal comments after noticing you and Matthew staring at each other for the gazillionth time that afternoon.

“How so?” you ask.

“He’s nice,” Taryn says blatantly.

“Taryn,” Chantal scolds, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m not wrong,” she defends.

Chantal rolls her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, you guys are good for each other. It’s about time you both realized the dynamic you both have after years of animosity between you two.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll finally be sisters,” Taryn jokes, hinting at the possibility of marriage. The smile on your face fades as you remember that you and Matthew aren’t dating. The smile fades knowing that you and Matthew wouldn’t ever get married, and when this ruse was over, many more people would get hurt than you both anticipated.

“Anyways, let’s go eat, yeah?” Chantal approaches. “Taryn, you put the salad on the plate and tell the boys we’re ready. Yn, you can help me scoop the other sides, okay?”

You were about to take the potato salad out to the table, but Chantal grabs your shoulder lightly and signals you to hold back for a moment.

“Just know, Matthew cares deeply for you,” she advises. “At the end of the day, he’s crazy about you; don’t forget that.”

You don’t have the words to say anything in response, so you just nod. Chantal seems to think you fully understand her words, so she walks out to the backyard. You don’t. What could she be talking about? Did she know that you and Matthew weren’t dating? You thought you both put up a pretty good act.

Opting to try to enjoy the evening, you place your worries to the back of your head and walk out to the patio. Just as you’re placing the potato salad on the table, Brady is placing the grilled corn on the table, too. Taryn’s already taken her usual seat, and because it’s a smaller crowd, Chantal has taken the seat where your brother would normally sit. Following tradition, you sit next to Taryn, and Brady takes the seat next to you. Keith has taken his seat and says that Matthew has gotten to grab a refill of drinks for you and him.

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls to his brother from behind you. You perk your head up and turn to see Matthew glaring at his brother.

“What? No! Go sit somewhere else. I’m already sitting here,” Brady says in retaliation and annoyance. He shakes his head and mutters a comment to you asking how you put up with him. You stifle a giggle knowing that the look in Matthew’s eyes was of determination, and the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

“Brady, I said, move,” Matthew says more forcefully.

“Why can’t you sit somewhere else? You never sit here.”

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls again.

“Why don’t you sit here, Matthew?” Taryn asks, trying to diffuse the situation. It was clear that Matthew wanted to sit next to you.

“No, I want Brady to move.”

“I’m not going to,” Brady is firm in his words. “Seriously, Yn, how do you deal with him sometimes?”

You don’t say anything, but Matthew does and is still incessant on Brady moving. “Brady, move and sit somewhere else. I want to sit next to my girlfriend.”

Brady stands up and stares at his brother. Looking at Matthew’s face, Brady knows that Matthew won’t give up on his endeavor, so Brady sighs and proceeds to get up. Brady goes and sits in his old normal seat, and Matthew sits next to you. He places a glass of water on the table for himself (he already had one beer but was driving, so he had to be safe) and lemonade for you. “Thank you, Brady,” Matthew says softly once he’s situated.

Brady grumbles in reply and mutters about how annoying Matthew was. You place your hand on Matthew’s thigh and lean over to whisper in his ear, “You didn’t have to force Brady to move, you know. It’s fine if we don’t sit next to each other.”

“It’s not fine,” Matthew whispers into your ear. “I wanted to sit next to my girlfriend, so I was going to sit next to my girlfriend.”

You open your mouth to say how it was all a ruse but decide against it.

“Shall we eat?” After observing her two sons spar over a seat and Matthew melt as he whispers into your ear, Chantal finally says.

Conversation, as everyone eats, varies from the wedding from the previous night to Taryn going to college to the upcoming season to your job. You loved how normal it was and how it was like before. It felt like before you and Matthew turned ten started hating each other. It was like when you were both young and the idea of marrying each other was still a thing. It was the way life was supposed to be had Matthew not started hating you at the age of ten. As you were both eating, Matthew always had a hand on you. Whether it was on your thigh or around your shoulder, Matthew was always touching you, and his family noticed completely.

“You know, when Matthew told us you were both dating, I was truly shocked. I was surprised you would ever go for him, Yn, considering you are way out of his league,” Brady says out of nowhere and tries to get back at his brother.

“Brady,” Keith warns.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Taryn points out, not realizing the true intentions of Brady's words. “As much as I love you, Matthew, Yn is completely out of your league.”

You notice Matthew stiffening up next to you, and you place your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down.

“I’m just surprised you even gave him a chance considering Matthew hated you for like half your life.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Taryn looks up at her mother and shrugs in confusion.

“I never hated, Yn,” Matthew defends. “I’m not sure where you guys are getting that from.”

“How about the fact that — ow!” Brady is stopped as Chantal kicks him under the table. An awkward silence fills the table as everyone finishes up their meals. What did Matthew mean when he said he never hated you? His actions definitely showed it. Did he still hate you? All these questions swirled in your head as Taryn volunteers you and her for clearing the table. You move in autopilot as you clear the table still trying to figure out the meaning of Matthew’s words.

“I’m sorry for my comments out there,” Taryn apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say anything hurtful.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell her with a smile. “I wasn’t offended, but I think Matthew could use an apology more than me.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s got thick skin, and it’s not like I said anything he didn’t know.”

“Mmm,” you say, not sure how to respond.

“I’ve never seen Matthew so protective over someone before. Is possessive the right word? I don’t know, but I don’t think he’s ever been like that. If he would challenge Brady to something and wouldn’t immediately get his way, then he’d just drop the subject or physically fight Brady. He didn’t do either of those things. There’s something about you, Yn, that brings out a different side to Matthew,” Taryn points out as she’s rinsing the dishes, and you place them in the dishwasher.

“Interesting,” you say, again, not sure how to respond

“It’s a good thing. You’re both good for each other.”

. . .

You and Matthew say goodbye to Chantal, Keith, Brady, and Taryn two hours later and head back to the hotel you were staying at. Chantal couldn’t understand why you guys didn’t just stay with them before you flew back to Calgary the next morning. You weren’t sure how to explain that you’re not dating her son, and you needed some time to unwind and not have to be Matthew’s pretend girlfriend for extended periods of time.

As you’re driving to the hotel, you and Matthew sit in silence. Now and then, Matthew would shift in his seat in discomfort. You could tell he was still upset from Brady’s and Taryn’s comments. You reach your hand across the center console and place it on his thigh. You hear Matthew’s breath halt at the touch, and you’re confused at the sound.

“Matthew, are you okay?” you ask softly. “Don’t take Brady’s and Taryn’s words too seriously.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Matthew, don’t,” you interrupt as he stops at a red light. He turns to you, and his heart melts at how the lights on the street illuminate your face. He nods at your words, and suddenly, he wasn’t sad or frustrated anymore. The drive continues in silence, but your hand doesn’t leave his thigh. You have one lingering thought, though. “Matthew?”

“Mmm?” he asks.

“What did you mean when you said earlier that you didn’t hate me?”

“I didn’t realize there was anything to say. I don’t hate you,” Matthew says blatantly.

“Yeah, but you did hate me.”

Matthew laughs sourly. “Why do you think that even though I’ve told you that I didn’t hate you?”

“You were such a pest to me after we turned ten.”

“That didn’t mean I hated you, Yn.”

“Then why were you such a pest?” you ask.

“Because I had a giant crush on you when we were ten.”

“You had a what?” you asked, shocked, as Matthew drives into a parking space.

“A crush when we were ten,” Matthew answers and walks out of the car. He walks over to your side and opens the door for you. You step out of the car still reeling for his confession. “Don’t worry, Yn, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so don’t worry.”

“Good,” you reply quietly. You aren’t sure why you are so upset at Matthew’s words, but you are. Did you have a crush on Matthew, now?

. . .

You’re standing in front of the mirror placing the final touches on your makeup and hair as you get ready to fly back to Calgary. You vaguely notice Matthew sitting in the chair behind you. You figured he was looking at his phone or watching the TV that was on. You lift your eyes to glance at the boy in question. Just as your eyes meet his face, Matthew looks up, and his eyes land right on yours. You stop moving, too entranced in his gaze. Matthew sends you a soft smile, and you mirror his smile. He sends you a wink, and your eyes instantly dart away from him. You continue getting ready, and you try to ignore the heat that rushed to your face and the rapid beating of your heart.

. . .

“I brought pizza and beer, is that good?” you say as you walk into Matthew’s kitchen. It was his first night back in Calgary since you said goodbye at the airport after the wedding, and he wanted to spend the night with you.

“That’s perfect,” he says and takes everything out of your hands.

You take your shoes off and walk further into this apartment. “Oh, looks like you cleaned.”

Matthew looks around the apartment and scratches the back of his neck. He turns to you, and you see a slight blush lining his cheeks. “Yeah, well, no one likes to live in a pigsty.”

You raise your eyebrow at his words. “What version of Matthew is this? The high school version of Matthew had the most disgusting bedroom ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at you. You swat at it and begin to giggle. Matthew takes a piece of pizza and places it on a plate for you and opens a bottle of beer for you. You take it out of his hands with a soft “thank you” and walk over to his kitchen table. He places his plate and beer on the table and places his hands on your hips; your breath catches in your throat at his touch, and Matthew swears his heart started to beat a hundred times faster at the sound. He guides you towards the couch. “We’re sitting on the couch to eat.”

“But, Matthew,” you say after regaining your voice. You watch him grab his beer and plate from the table where he placed it and sits next to you.

“Nope, we’re not at Yn’s house. We’re at Matthew’s house, so we eat on the couch when we’re having a movie night.”

“Matthew,” you begin again.

He shakes his head as he takes a sip. “Don’t. I can’t eat this once training camp and the season starts, so let’s just enjoy it, okay?”

You nod and take a bite out of your pizza. Why did your breath hitch out of your throat when Matthew touched you? He’s touched you before, but why was it different this time?

. . .

“How about these?” Matthew asks as he holds a bag of chips in front of your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t like that flavor, and I already bought a bag of chips.”

“Maybe you should buy them for me, this lovely person who you forced to go grocery shopping with you.”

“That is not what happened, Matthew, and you know that,” your point out.

Matthew walks over to you and entraps you from where you’re standing at your shopping cart. He places his hands on the bar on your sides so you can’t move. He leans his head towards your ear and whispers, “Then tell me what happened.”

“You know what happened,” you murmur, trying to hide the fact that Matthew’s actions and words were sending chills down your spine.

“But I want you to tell me,” he whispers again into your ear.

“You showed up at my apartment just as I was about to leave,” you swallow before continuing, “and you insisted on coming with me, and here we are.”

“I don’t recall that being how it happened,” Matthew says against your neck, and the vibrations warm your entire body. You figure if Matthew was going to mess with you in the middle of the snack aisle at the grocery store, you might as well do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face closer to yours. Your lips are micrometers from his, and you can tell that Matthew is nervous.

“That’s exactly how I remember it happening,” you say against his lips and with each word you said, your lips touching Matthew’s. Out of instinct and preparation for a kiss, Matthew places his hands on your waist, and you smirk, knowing you have him right where you want him. You run your hands up through his hair, and Matthew’s hold on you becomes limp. You lean closer, if possible, to him, and Matthew thinks you’re going to kiss him. Just when you would’ve leaned forward and kiss Matthew, you pull back and escape from where Matthew has you entrapped. You’re standing a few feet away from him, and you notice Matthew still in his trance. “You coming?”

That seems to take him out of his trance, and he nods and pushes the shopping cart to follow you. Matthew isn’t sure what happened, but he knows that whatever did just happen sent Matthew to heaven.

. . .

“What are you wearing?” Taryn asks you when you sit down next to her.

“Oh, this old thing?” you say, pretending to be oblivious.

“Matthew’s going to hate it considering you’re his girlfriend, who the Flames are playing, and what you’re not wearing.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“You are such a pest like Matthew. No wonder you guys are so good to each other,” Taryn rolls her eyes.

“You’re lucky we won or you’d have hell brought down upon you,” Matthew says when you’re standing outside the locker room after the game.

“I didn’t know you knew the devil personally,” you joke.

“Why did you have to wear Brady’s jersey, Yn? The day that I play the Sens, you are wearing the wrong brother’s jersey.”

You shrug but have a knowing smirk on your face. “I felt like it.”

Matthew groans when he sees Brady walking over to you and him. “Nice jersey,” Brady smirks.

“Thank you. Too bad you guys lost.”

“Seriously?” Matthew’s mouth’s agape.

“Oh shut up, you know I cheered for you when you scored,” you say and link arms with Brady as you head towards Chantal and Keith. “It worked. I pissed him off,” you whisper to Brady.

“You guys are so weird,” Brady chuckles. Matthew just stands behind you and Brady and is trying to figure out what just happened and how he’s going to get back at you.

. . .

When you showed up to the Senators-Flames game wearing Brady’s jersey, Matthew knew he had to think of a way to get back at you. After a week-long road trip and coming home at 2 am, Matthew wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He also wanted nothing more in the world to see you and to get back at you. When he got in his car to drive home, Matthew realized he had the perfect plan to get back at you. He knows that something you value deeply is your sleep, so because you messed with something important to Matthew, he was going to mess with something important to you.

Matthew drives to your apartment from the airport and parks in the parking spot next to your car. He isn’t sure why he thought you didn’t have a car and why you don’t drive it to work, but here your car is. He walks into the lobby of your building and waves to the nightguard working the night shift. He takes the elevator up to your floor and walks up to your door. He takes a deep breath and begins to aggressively ring your doorbell. He hopes that you wake up and none of your neighbors do.

The ringing continues for twenty seconds before you realize it’s not your alarm. You sit up for a few moments when you realize that it’s someone at the door. When the ringing doesn’t stop, you get worried that something’s wrong. You rush over to the door and open it. “Is everything okay?” you blurt out before noticing who’s the one ringing your doorbell.

“No, I have a very important message for you,” Matthew says with a smirk grazing his face.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” you’re worried now. You’re still barely awake, and if you were, you probably would have noticed the smirk on Matthew’s face.

“It’s an important message. Ready for it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me!”

“Hi.”

“Hi? That’s it? Matthew, you rang my door like a lunatic and made me worry that something was seriously wrong. What’s wrong with you?”

“You wore Brady’s jersey to my hockey game.”

“So you decide to pull this shit?” you’re angry now, and Matthew realizes he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry. I also wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pull him into your apartment. “Then call me instead of halfway giving me a heart attack.”

Matthew nods and follows you into your apartment. He puts his bag down by the door and takes his shoes off.

“I’m going back to sleep, but you can change and shower in my washroom and join me when you’re ready. I’m not staying awake; I’m too tired.”

Matthew is shocked that you’re doing this. Matthew woke you at 2 in the morning just because and you’re opening your home for him despite it. Matthew will never take your friendship for granted ever again.

. . .

“Matthew, are we still fake dating?” you ask out of nowhere. It’s been months since the wedding, and you weren’t sure if you and Matthew still had that title. Recently, you both had been hanging out together, but it didn’t seem like “dating”. It was “friend” hangouts, and you were both disappointed and happy with it.

“Why do you ask?” Matthew asks. He doesn’t want to fake date you anymore; he wants to real date you, but he isn’t sure if you want that, too.

“Because,” you hesitate.

“Because, why?”

“I went out with some friends the other night and this guy was hitting on me, and I turned him down because I didn’t know if we were still under the ruse of dating.”

“Oh,” Matthew says dejectedly. “Don’t worry, if you see him, or anyone else, who’s hitting on you, then you can say yes. We, as of this moment, are just friends and no longer fake dating.”

You nod. “What do we tell people? Like, Shelly or your family?”

Matthew shrugs. “We realized we were better off friends. We went from the extreme of not being able to be around each other to the extreme of always being around each other and realized it doesn’t work.”

“Okay,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were so upset with Matthew’s response.

After the conversation, you head home about an hour later with your head still reeling from Matthew’s words. Just friends, he said, but you didn’t want that, did you? You wanted Matthew in every way that you could. You wanted him next to you when you woke up and when you fell asleep. You wanted good morning kisses, good night kisses, and just kisses in between that. You wanted Matthew because you liked him. You wanted Matthew because, in the months of fake dating, you fell for him. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, the one boy you never thought you’d fall for, and the one boy who doesn’t want you like that.

. . .

You went out with Matthew and the team to celebrate another win. This time, you wore Matthew’s jersey, and you swore Matthew’s smile grew wider when he saw you in it. The celebration at the bar thus far has been fun. You weren’t sure if the team knows you and Matthew “broke up”, but it doesn’t matter because Matthew was still being touchy with you, and you hoped that you were hiding your feelings for Matthew well.

“I’m going to go get some refills for us, okay? Same drink for you?” Matthew whispers into your ear. You visibly shiver at his action, and you know Matthew noticed. You nod, not trusting your words. To try to ignore how you’re feeling, you immerse yourself in conversation with the group. It works, you think, but when you look up and see the back of Matthew’s head, your heart begins to beat rapidly. You needed to figure out how to get your emotions in check if you’re going to continue to be hanging out as friends with Matthew.

“So, you and Matthew have been going strong, huh?” Annica says when she notices you staring at Matthew. You snap your attention back to the woman. Matthew must not have told the team that you and he “broke up”. You guess that would be a weird conversation to have. You doubted Matthew said something along the lines of, “Yes, we broke up, but I’m going to keep bringing Yn around. Why? Well, we were never really dating, and now we are just friends. Yeah, it’s weird, but just go with it.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” you reply, hoping that Annica didn’t read too much into your words.

“I can tell he’s crazy about you and that he —,” Annica is interrupted by Elias bringing her another glass of wine and conversation changes. You look back at Matthew to try to figure out the meaning of Annica’s words. Just as your eyes land on Matthew’s head, he turns around, as if sensing your gaze, and meets your eyes. He smiles at you, and you instantly feel the tears falling from your eyes. You try to blink them away, but when Matthew begins to rush over to you, you know that he noticed. You excuse yourself from the group and rush out of the bar.

“Yn, yn,” Matthew calls out to you. He catches up to you with his long strides and places his hand gently on your shoulder. You turn to face him and feverishly wipe the tears away. “Yn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“I didn’t know we cry over nothing now, but thanks for letting me know,” Matthew jokes, but it doesn’t do anything to make you feel better. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be your friend anymore; it just hurts too much to be your friend when I want more,” you blurt out and walk away. Matthew is too stunned at your words to follow after you. You want more? Since when? Matthew doesn’t come to his senses to chase after you until you’re getting into your car to drive home. What does he do now?

. . .

“Yn, yn, yn, I know you’re in there,” Matthew yells as he aggressively knocks on your apartment door the next day. “Yn, please. I just want to talk to you.

You angrily stalk to the door and open it. “What, Matthew? Maybe you should have taken a hint when I didn’t open the door the first eighteen times you knocked on it.”

“Yeah, well, we need to talk, so it doesn’t matter if I was knocking on your door for hours, I’m going to talk to you.”

“Matthew, there’s nothing to say,” you tell him through gritted teeth hoping not to let it show how much you wanted to cry at that moment.

“Like hell, there’s nothing to talk about,” Matthew aggressively replies as he runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t just say that and leave, you know. You’ve had me going crazy, Yn!”

“Well, it’s not like you feel the same way or want the same thing,” you mumble, looking at the ground.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted this since I was ten!” Matthew replies incredulously.

“But you told me you didn’t like me anymore!”

“That’s because I thought you didn't like me like that.”

“Well, I do like you like that, Matthew.”

He takes a step closer to you and looks into your eyes. “That entire time we were fake dating? I was imagining it was real. I was doing everything in my power to make it real so that I could have that experience of being with you because I thought I’d never had a chance with you. Like my parents said, you are completely out of my league, so I was extremely honored that you ever wanted to fake date me.”

“I don’t want to fake date you.”

“I don’t want to fake date you, either,” Matthew chuckles.

“Oh, good,” you reply and look down at your feet. “I want to be your real girlfriend.”

Matthew laughs at your words. “That’s what not wanting to fake date means.”

“Oh, right,” you giggle at yourself.

“So, if I put my hands on your waist and kiss you, is that okay?”

“That’s more than okay, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile and place your hands on his face to bring him closer to you. Matthew smiles at your words and leans his head towards yours. You both softly placed your lips on each other before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss you both shared, but it was the first time you kissed each other with your feelings on display. You both deepen the kiss, and Matthew pulls you into him. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you giggle at the small moan that leaves him. His moan and your giggle cause you both to pull back. Matthew gives you a pointed look.

“Great, our first kiss ends like that.”

You giggle again. “It’s not our first kiss, Matthew.”

“Still,” he pouts.

“Don’t worry,” you tease. “There will be many, many kisses in our future.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Matthew says with a grin and pulls you in for another kiss.

The get-together wasn’t perfect or what anyone expected, but it was your story, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagines #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey fanficition #hockey imagine #calgary flames x reader #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames fic #claudia writes

[thunderslumbers]

Youth || Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira

Warnings: Injuries

Word Count: 599 words

Summary: small moments sometimes turn out to be the most meaningful.

Author's Note: felt nostalgic today, listened to how to be a human being again and this happened.

"Boy, I want you to be happy, Free to run, get dizzy on caffeine, Funny friends that make you laugh, and maybe you're just a little bit dappy." youth, glass animals

Tanjiro Kamado

Night fell upon the wisteria house you two were residing in, the sunset marked a time where everything slowed down.

You could tell Tanjiro was bored, sitting up in his futon and staring at the wall. Nezuko was surprisingly asleep, her energy sapped from a fight.

"Hey, Tanjiro" You had taken out a deck of cards in your haori folded at the end of your futon. Shuffling them with a precision Tanjiro had never seen before. "Wanna play something?"

Before he knew it Tanjiro was playing a game with you, blankets offset from the futon, you laughing when you absolutely swindled him at a pretend-gambling game. He was extremely proud of himself when he beat you (even though you went easy on him)

A playful shine in his eyes and a sly smile when you two settled down. It was during the nth round of go fish when he yawned

As he passed the cards back and went to sleep Tanjiro felt grateful that you had invited him to play. Falling asleep with the same feeling of playful camaraderie he once felt long ago.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

He landed himself in the butterfly mansion again, he'd always manage to get injured during missions.

As he was stuck inside the medical ward you went to pick a multitude of flowers; red, yellow, pink, orange, purple and many more. Unknown to Zenitsu.

To his surprise you returned to him with an armful of flowers, ready to twist them into little rings and crowns. As you finished one up he had asked you to teach him to make one, Of course you obliged.

His first flower crown was kinda wonky, but you wore it with pride, bending down so he could place it on your head. You had placed a few on his head too, making it look more like a wreath of colorful flowers rather than a singular link.

Most of the flowers were gone by the time you two finished up, only stray leaves and pollen on the sterile blanket Zenitsu was under.

You reached for his hand and dragged him out the bed, you two were passing around flower crowns to the other people in the butterfly mansion with giggles and giddy expressions.

Inosuke Hashibira

This time you had to spend time recovering from an injury, turns out landing wrong on one foot can do a lot of damage.

Inosuke waited impatiently, dropping by between his solo missions and pushing you to get better.

Aoi had filled your request for some colored thread, and while on bed rest you made a pair of friendship bracelets, hoping to give one to Inosuke the next time he visited.

"I can't wait to beat you into the dirt (Y/n)!" Inosuke looked excited to see you almost recovered. As he shook his fists you had told him to keep one out, and he did.

He looked at you curiously when you tied the bracelet around his wrist, the ends bobbing up and down with his slight movements. "I made you something, 'nosuke" You had hoped he liked it, because he was oddly quiet

"It makes my wrist feel weird." You could almost see his confused expression under the boar mask. He kept shaking his fist and seeing the threaded bracelet move around "Do you not like it? I can take it off you if you want."

"Hell no! I'm keeping this on forever!" He pumped his fist in the air, and you giggled. Even though it hurt you raised a sore arm up to match him. Inosuke snorted before running off, probably to brag about the bracelet.

#planeto🪐 #rené.writing #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro kamado x reader #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #inosuke hashibira #inosuke hashibira x reader #demon slayer #tw.injuries

[grumbo-my-beloved]

Not enough grumbo content.

Take these incorrect quotes.

(it's very long)

Grian: I’m in love with you.

Mumbo: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Grian: I know.

Mumbo: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Grian: This date is boring!

Mumbo: This isnt a date. I said I was going to the store.

Grian: Then why did you invite me?

Mumbo: I didn't, I specifically said "don't come with me" then you said "fuck you Mumbo, I'll do whatever I want!"

Mumbo: Did it hurt when you fell-

Grian: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Mumbo: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

Grian: ...

Mumbo: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Grian: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Mumbo: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Grian: That one. I want that one.

Grian: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Mumbo: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Grian: ...

Grian: You mean ring bearER, right?

Mumbo: ...

Grian: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Grian: I owe you one.

Mumbo: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Mumbo: I fell—

Grian: From heaven?

Mumbo: No, I literally fell—

Grian: In love with me the moment you saw me?

Mumbo: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Grian: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Mumbo: Are we fighting or flirting?

Grian: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Mumbo: Your point?

Grian: So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?

Mumbo: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?

Grian: Yes?

Mumbo: I'd sleep.

Mumbo: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Grian: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Grian: I feel like doing something stupid.

Mumbo: I’m stupid, do me.

Mumbo: You have to apologize to them Grian.

Grian: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the man you fell in love with!

Scar: So, why don’t you go talk to Mumbo?

Grian, sarcastically: Oh. Yeah, sure.

Scar: What? So you go tell him he's cute, what’s the worst that could happen?

Grian: He could hear me.

Mumbo: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Grian: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Mumbo: Holy moly-

Grian: Mumbo is playing hard to get.

Grian: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Grian: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Mumbo: Okay.

Grian: And make out during the scary parts.

Mumbo: Th-

Mumbo: The scary parts.

Mumbo: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Mumbo: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Grian: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Mumbo: But you’re always acting stupid?

Grian: ...

Grian: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Grian: *seductively takes off glasses*

Grian: Wow...

Mumbo: *blushes* Haha... what?

Grian: You're really fucking blurry.

Grian: Relationships should be 50/50. Mumbo cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Grian: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Mumbo: I wrote you a poem.

Grian, already crying: You did?

Grian: I think I'm falling for you.

Mumbo: Then get up.

Grian: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Mumbo: Wow. They sound stupid.

Grian: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Mumbo: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Grian: I guess you’re right. Hey Mumbo, I love you.

Mumbo: See! Just say that!

Grian: Holy fucking shit.

Mumbo: If that flies over their head then, sorry Grian, but they're too dumb for you.

Grian: Mumbo.

Grian: Are you trying to seduce me?

Mumbo: Why, are you seducible?

Grian: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Mumbo: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Grian: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Mumbo: Is it working?

Mumbo: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Grian: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

Grian: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Mumbo: Oh. We're going out?

Grian: Wh...

Mumbo: Are you ready to commit?

Grian: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Grian: We both look very handsome tonight.

Mumbo: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you."

Grian: I couldn't take that chance.

Grian: Can you cut me some slack, Mumbo? I’m sort of in love.

Mumbo: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.

Grian: I’m in love with you.

Mumbo: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Mumbo: Do you want to know your gay name?

Grian: My... my gay name?

Mumbo: Yeah, it's your first name-

Grian: Haha. Very funny Mumbo-

Mumbo: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Grian: Oh- oh my god.

Grian: Two brooooos!

Mumbo: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Grian: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Mumbo:

Grian:

Mumbo: *tearing up*

Grian: Babe, c'mon...

Mumbo: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Grian: Babe...

Mumbo, sweating: Grian, there’s something I need to ask you-

Grian: Finally! You’re proposing!

Mumbo: How’d you know?

Grian: Mumbo, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Grian: I even picked it up once.

These last ones imply nsfw, so if you don't wanna see that, scroll on by real fast.

Grian: Bro-

Mumbo: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Mumbo: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Mumbo: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Grian: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

Mumbo: I like your new trousers!

Grian: Thanks, they were 50% off!

Mumbo: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

Grian: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Mumbo: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Grian: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Mumbo.

Mumbo: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Grian: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Mumbo: Seize the dick.

Mumbo: Bro, I had a dream we fucked.

Grian: Bro, relax it was just a dream.

Mumbo: Yeah, I wouldn’t fuck you.

Grian: You wouldn’t?

Mumbo: I mean, unless you want to-

Grian: Do you know why I called you in here?

Mumbo: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

Grian: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

Grian: Talk dirty to me, baby~

Mumbo: The dishes.

Grian: Wh-

Mumbo: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Mumbo: Look, last night was a mistake.

Grian: A sexy mistake.

Mumbo: No, just a regular mistake.

Mumbo: Wow, Grian, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Grian: We literally slept together yesterday.

Mumbo: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Mumbo: As top in this relationship, I think we should-

Grian: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

#Grian x mumbo #grumbo #incorrect hermitship quotes #hermitshipping #hermitship

[shesinmy]

How do you think Gojo would deal with having a crush and he decides to teleport jumpscare them for first time cuz they seem like they’d scare easily and not retaliate, but when he does it, crush fight or flight reflex kicks in and he gets decked right in the face with rage from crush. Crush realises who it is and they apologise and make sure he is medically ok. they scold him a little when he’s ok, but not annoyingly so, they just don’t want to hit him again in future?

NOTHING LIKE A WELL DESERVED PUNCH

You were someone to get easily scared because your head is always flying to somewhere else or you are to focus on the task before you. Gojo here, didn't miss this detail, of course. What's funnier then giving you jumps scares just to hear that beautiful mouth of yours swear an insane group of words? He loved it!

But, until now, he only worked on these small surprises. Today, however, he decided to be bold. He decided to teleport behind you and see where it goes. And so he did.

You were organizing the laundry in your wardrobe while humming something that got stuck in your mind since the beginning of the day. You were so in peace with your task, what could possibly happen?

Easy. Gojo teleported right behind you. When you turned around because of the subtle presence that suddenly appeared behind your back, your instincts took the best of you. Your hand moved on it's own and you punched the person right in the middle of their face. But all the adrenaline wasn't over, and you didn't even let the person regain from the first punch, to kick them in the middle of their legs.

When you regained conscious from what was happening it was too late. Gojo was already at the floor whining in pain and cursing himself for not turning on the Infinity. You immediately ran to his direction trying to figure out how much hurt he was.

- Satoru?! My God!!! I'm so so sorry!!

- It's okay, baby. I'm fine, but I might not be able to have kids anymore, you see. - He answered while holding his nose.

You punched him for the stupid comment.

- Ouch! You already punched me enough, don't you think?

- I see that you're doing fine since you had time to make a little joke.

He pouted and you took his hand off his nose to take a look at it. Worry started to grow on your face.

- Oh my God, Satoru!! This is going to turn purple. Hold on, I'm going to get some ice.

You took some ice and applied to his nose sitting next to him. After sometime, you couldn't hold it any longer and started to laugh.

- Oh! So you're laughing, hum?!

- Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson. What I did was only to defend myself. Next time, I might really get you sterile.

He let a small laugh escapes his lips. Proud were lifting trough his chest.

- I think you might.

No need to say that he became the center of attention with his purple nose the next day. Shoko sure didn't let him slip.

- Y/n sure knows what they’re doing.

AHHHAHAHAHAAHHA I LAUGHED! Once my brother scared me after getting out from a shower and a punched him so hard. He was lucky it wasn't on his face.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu reader #jjk oneshot #jujutsu oneshot #gojo satoru #gojo oneshot #gojo x reader

[fireflykaizoku]

hi lari, my love :) i love your blog, your writing so much, i've been following you for a while! I'm glad to see your evolution!

I was wondering if you could make a comfort request? please! i'm going through a lot of problems, my depression is making me miserable everyday, my anxiety too, and my depersonalization gets worse every day, also there are the idiotic comments about my body, it makes me stop eating and get weak every day every day :/ so i was wondering if i could have a comfort from law and ace? I don't know, I just wanted comfort, I need it!

I love your writing so I came here to ask but if this is too much you can erase it dear, have a great weekend, kisses, take care dear! <3

my love, i know we talked on DM, but i'll repeat: i hope you're having a good day and i'm so sorry that you've been feeling like this. know that you're amazing! i really wish i could help somehow, but know that if you ever need anything, you can message me! i'm sending hugs and lots of love! ❤ i'll also hit anyone who makes bad comments about you, i'm not even kidding!

i hope the boys can help you bring some comfort ❤ ah and thank you so much for the nice comments as well 🥺❤

Ace

Ace didn’t understand why you weren’t eating. At first, he thought you weren’t hungry or that you were sick. He could tell something wasn’t right, but you didn’t want to bother, so you said everything was alright, you were “just tired”. Every task seemed like a big effort, it felt like you weren’t able to function. It was hard to deal with everything alone, even though you knew your boyfriend would be there for you.

You tried to hide it, but the moment you were sitting on the deck and felt dizzy when you got up, having to hold Thatch’s arm so you wouldn’t fall, it was the moment the second commander knew something was wrong.

The freckled boy rushed towards you, desperately asking what happened, if you were sick and what you were feeling. You blamed the heat, but it didn’t convince him. That’s why right now, you were in your shared room while Ace wanted to convince you to go to Marco’s office. The man was holding your hand, kneeling in front of you while you were sitting on the bed.

His eyes were full of love and concern. Ace wanted to help, it was the least he could do. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hands, whispering that you didn’t need to say anything, but to let him help. That’s when you took all your strength and said everything. How your anxiety and depression were getting worse, how a comment someone made a few islands ago stuck with you, how you weren’t eating because of the comments and that’s why you were sick… Ace was heartbroken and angry at the same time. How dare someone make any comments about you? How dare someone hurt you? You were amazing in his eyes, so beautiful, so kind, smart… You were simply the light of his life. It broke his heart to know what you’ve been dealing with while not telling anyone about it..

The man didn’t know what to say, but he could offer comfort. Ace hugged you, holding you as close as he could. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

— My angel… — he whispered. — Their comments don’t reflect who you are. They know nothing, and if I could, I’d go back there and find them. But know that, to me, you’re the most beautiful girl and incredible girl in the whole world. You’re the best person I could ask for. And I know that even if I crossed this world a thousand times, I’d never find someone as beautiful as you. I love you so much, always remember that.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. His strong and warm hands caressed your cheeks, drying the tears and placing a kiss on your forehead, making you smile softly.

— But I want you to be healthy, to eat well and to tell me whenever something isn’t right. Okay? You’re not going to face this alone. You have the crew, and you have me. Alright?

You nodded, hiding your face on the crook of his neck. Ace kissed your head and didn’t say anything else. His warm embrace was enough to help you relax for now, to make you feel safe. Your boyfriend wouldn’t leave your side so soon, but when you felt ready, he’d suggest you to see Marco and find the best way to help you. Later, he’d also ask Thatch to make your favorite food. Law

Being a doctor and a very observant man, Law noticed the signs quite early. Even when he was very busy, he could tell when your mental health was getting worse. You couldn’t even hide it from him. So the dark haired man asked you to go to his office, he wanted to ask what was going on and find solutions. He thought about how to ask, how to approach you. It was very hard to act like a doctor with his own girlfriend. And even without acting like a doctor, approaching this subject in general was hard for him. He didn’t want to know that you weren’t okay.

Hearing the door open, revealing your figure, snapped the man out of his thoughts, and your boyfriend turned to look at you.

— Yes? — you asked, wondering what he wanted to talk about.

— Sit here, please… — he started, looking at the chair in front of him. — I want you to be honest with me, alright? — you nodded. — How are you feeling lately?

You shrugged, about to say the same thing as you always said: “I’m alright”. But you knew you couldn’t lie to Law. So you sighed, looking down and trying to find the best word to describe your feelings. How could you tell him that it was hard for you to get up from bed? How would you tell him that your anxiety and depersonalization were worse than before? And how would you tell him that you didn’t eat for the past couple of days because someone made a comment about your body?

You avoided his gaze and started venting. Even though you didn’t know which words to use, you needed to let everything out, and as you spoke, tears were rolling down your cheek. You didn’t even have time to wonder what Law was thinking. You didn’t even notice him getting up and approaching you.

Law kneeled in front of you, one of his hands over yours while the other rested on your thigh. He wanted you to vent and have a moment, taking a deep breath after saying everything you’ve been holding back.

— Who said bad things about your body? — he asked, holding your hand and looking at you with his gray eyes. — (Y/N), I’ll go talk to them right now.

The Surgeon of Death would never allow anyone to talk about a crewmate, let alone about his partner. If someone was going to make stupid comments about you, they’d need to face Law first.

— It was an idiot from another island. — you whispered, trying not to sob. — I know it shouldn’t matter, but… I can’t help it.

His tattooed hands brushed your hair behind your ear, trying to look at your face, the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Each part of you was beautiful. Not only that, but you were smart, loyal, kind hearted… Perfect in his eyes.

— You're beautiful. And if I have to remind you of how beautiful your body is, I’ll remind you everyday. — he whispered. — Alright?

You nodded again, relaxing at his reassuring words and even feeling your cheeks warm a little. — And dealing with anxiety, depression and depersonalization is rough, I know that. But you know that as a doctor, I won’t let you go through this alone, right? I can and I will help you with your mental health.

You nodded, drying your tears.

— And you have me. I’ll be here to help you, always.

— As my doctor? — you smiled softly, making him chuckle.

— As a doctor too, but especially as your boyfriend. — Law said. — I’ll have to be the doctor sometimes, telling you to take care of yourself, eat, drink water… But I’ll always be here to give you comfort and love. Because I love you.

#ace x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It's the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I'm so excited to finally share it with you.

----

Chapter 1: Starry Eyes

Soundtrack: "Starry Eyes," Mötley Crüe, 1981 [click here to listen]

It was quiet here in the mountains.

Claire Beauchamp drew in a long, shaky breath of clear, crisp air, and tucked her legs up onto the seat of the Adirondack chair. Watching the sun set over the valley.

Gripping the arm of the chair with shaky hands.

Behind her on the deck, a dozen or so strangers – men and women – shuffled into their own chairs, or to square tables with board games under one arm. Chatter wafted through the door that led into The Ridge’s main building.

The brochure that Joe Abernathy had pressed into her hands, sitting in the back seat of his Jaguar sedan while his wife Gail drove them to the airport, described The Ridge as a residential treatment facility. Her mind was still reeling from the intervention, and that Gail had already packed her a duffel bag stuffed with essentials – it had all been so seamless.

There were many things Claire had wanted to block out in the two years since she’d left Frank and everything had fallen apart. Many things she had shut out from the world around her, paralyzed by pain. But she hadn’t lost all of her faculties quite yet.

Because no matter what The Ridge called itself, no matter how beautiful the landscaping of its grounds, or the plush cushions on the chairs, or the gourmet meals prepared by the in-house chef (herself five years in recovery, or so the brochure proudly proclaimed), there was no hiding what it really was.

Rehab.

Claire was there because she was an addict.

And she would stay there until she had unfucked her life.

“Excuse me?”

She turned to see a tall man, red hair down to his shoulders, colorful tattoos covering every inch of his arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of a well-fitted black t-shirt.

“May I sit next to you?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He flopped down into the chair, crossed his long legs, and lay both palms on the armrests, thumbs tapping a quick beat.

“First day?”

It had been forty six hours since her last fix, and pain sliced her skull. She hadn’t gone this long without in more than a year. “Yes,” she murmured.

Now his fingers joined in the tapping. “Thought so. The new ones always come in the middle of the day – that’s why Group is always in the afternoons. So we can have our individual sessions in the morning, and meet all together in the afternoon. It helps to stick to a schedule.”

She turned in the chair to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her – just gazing straight ahead – but he kept talking. “Anyway, it’ll just be a few minutes until dinner. I hope you like Mexican – they take Taco Tuesdays pretty seriously around here.”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name. I know we introduced ourselves at Group, but it’s all just a blur.”

He turned to face her, and she could hear his smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re Claire – pills addict. That’s what you told us, anyway.”

“It’s true.”

“Well then.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie – I’m an alcoholic. Bourbon, mostly. And a little bit of cocaine, now and again.”

She gripped his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m a sex addict, too,” he added. “John – my therapist here – he said that the more honest I am, the better it will be for me later on.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, not quite sure what else to say.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people by not being honest, and by drinking, and not being honest about my drinking.” He folded his hands in his lap. Lallybroch read one tattoo inching up his left arm, and Ellen read another. “I’m on the tenth step. I’ve learned a lot so far.”

Claire stared down at her own hands – bare, except for her mother’s silver wedding band, which Uncle Lamb had given her when she was twelve. “Well, if we’re going for honesty – I’m a trauma surgeon, at one of the top hospitals in Boston. My asshole ex-husband used to hit me, and I prescribed myself some ludes to deaden everything. I wrote out the scripts to him, then took them to the pharmacy myself.” She pursed her lips, feeling his eyes on her. “I thought I had it under control – I thought that nobody noticed. Until I showed up high one day, and made a stupid mistake, and almost killed a patient.”

He was strangely quiet – and after silently counting to twenty, Claire looked up at him. He was still tapping his fingers against the armrest of the chair, though in a more structured, organized rhythm. Nodding his head. Thinking.

“It was my best friend who got me here,” he said softly. “I’ve known him since we were kids – he even married my sister. He saw what I was doing to myself, how much I was hurting her, and hurting the thing that he and I had worked so hard to build.” A spray of black and white stars flexed above his elbow. “Who got you here?”

“My best friend. We went to medical school together – he was my man of honor at my wedding. He and his wife staged a full-on intervention.”

Jamie’s brows lifted. “Wow.”

She nodded, encouraged. “I’d already been indefinitely suspended without pay from the hospital. I figured, what do I have to lose?”

“Yeah. We have to reach that point.”

A metallic clang pierced the air – and Claire jumped.

Jamie smiled. “That’s the literal dinner bell. Like I said, I hope you like tacos.”

Claire slid forward in the chair and stood, stretching. “I could eat anything right about now. I’m not too picky.”

Now Jamie stood – and smiled down at her. “I’m helping get everyone seated tonight – we all pick up chores around here. See you in there?”

She smiled back. “Yeah. And thanks for talking to me.”

“No sweat.” Quickly he stepped away from her and across the deck toward the door back inside.

“Hey.”

Claire turned to see a woman – young, dark-haired, size zero – remove her enormous sunglasses.

“Yes?”

“I can’t believe you were talking to him!” she exclaimed.

Claire shoved her hands into her pockets. “What do you mean?”

The woman shook her head. “Do you even know who he is?”

“He introduced himself. Seemed nice enough. Why?”

The woman huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “That’s Jamie Fraser. You know – the singer and lead guitarist in Print?”

“Print?” Claire searched her scattered memory. “Isn’t that some hard rock band?”

“Not just some band – the biggest band in the world for at least five years now. Like, dozens of hits, videos on MTV 24/7, big stadium tours, and armloads of awards. I’ve been trying to get his attention since I got here! And he just walked right up to you!”

It had been a long day. Claire was hungry, and tired, and wanted nothing more than an aspirin and a pillow – maybe a taco first. Definitely not any more time with this girl.

“Well, thanks for the info – ”

“Geneva,” the woman explained. “I’m an alcoholic. You?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Claire made a beeline for the door.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #little bit better than i used to be #here we go

[dream-a-little-bigger-darling000]

You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

#tom hardy #tom hardy fic #tommy conlon #tommy conlon x reader #tommy riordan #warrior #warrior fic #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #warrior fanfic #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #kinda angsty #tommy conlon imagine #writing prompt #prompt #fan fiction prompts #reader insert

[luvvurie]

Mortal desires

Ship: Zhongli x y/n

Warnings: mentions of death, poisoning, self blame

Word count: 1020

Notes: Happy birthday Zhongli Xiansheng I know this story doesn't do you justice since I rushed my life off it(pov: writing at 1am)

Genre: angst

The drums beat to the sound of a heart a thousand years ago on the 31st of December. You thought it was a wonderful day to finally sign your fate together with Zhongli since it was his birthday. You were decked out in a red hanfu, wearing the Phoenix hairpin Zhongli gifted you the day before. When it came for the both of you to drink alcohol, you refused and requested tea. As you took a sip of the tea, you began to feel weird before collapsing.

"Y/n? Y/n!" you heard Zhongli's panicked scream as he pushed the table aside to hold onto you as you passed out. You could hear everything but it hurt. You felt like something was crushing your chest and grinding your ribs slowly as you were alive. You tried to breathe but it was as if someone had stuck a knife in your throat and eventually, you gave in to the sweet temptation of death. Zhongli gazed at you as your chest fell down and never rose back...

It had been more than just a thousand years since your passing. The memory of what happened was still vivid in Zhongli's mind but your expressions would forever be lost in the moment. Was it a smile or a frown? Maybe you could have been expressionless. Stiff like your motionless body as you fell and shut your eyes, accepting the fate you had been bestowed with.

"How have you been?" Zhongli sat down next to a tree, placing your favorite flowers down. He glanced at the snow that covered the tomb and gently swept it away with his hands. Even though it was winter, it still felt warm. Zhongli looked at the scenery where you were buried and smiled a little. "Do you like the scenery as well? Or have you grown bored of it?"

The sound of the trees rustling when the wind blew was his answer but Zhongli was contemptuous of it as he saw the sunset. It was his birthday but you were not there to celebrate it. However, if Zhongli was just a bit closer to you for this special occasion it would be enough. "I'm sorry that I can't remember what you look like." Zhongli sighed, pouring himself a cup of tea with the tea set he had brought along to enjoy with you. Zhongli furrowed his brows and poured another cup, placing it nearer to the tombstone. "I'm sorry this had to be your death day as well."

Zhongli shook his head and picked up the cup he had left for you, pouring it out. "Ah, I forgot you don't like this tea..."

The sun eventually set and the sky was left to darkened itself. No matter the amount of sorrys, it could never bring you back. A mere mortal that was courageous enough to seek the love of a god. Was it foolish or was it intelligent? Your warmth and love remained for Zhongli even though centuries had passed by and everything started to change.

Zhongli placed down his cup of tea and paused for a while before saying, "was this what you were aiming for,y/n?"

You shook your head, sitting beside Zhongli. You wished he could see you but you knew you were just wasting time dwelling on something that would never happen. You wanted to reach your hand out to touch his hair and maybe tell Zhongli that it was never his fault but you sat there and watched.

"Could you feel my presence?" you spoke, knowing Zhongli would never hear you. You turned to look at Zhongli with pitiful eyes and saw him nod a little. You chuckle to yourself. Sometimes, it felt so surreal like he actually knew you watched over him. You placed your hand on his shoulder but it went right through. You furrowed your brows and let out an exasperated sigh. "Please wait for me…" you stood up and glanced back at Zhongli who had begun another one of his stories about modern day Liyue. You smiled, turning to face the front. You walked towards the light turning back one more time to see Zhongli before entering.

Zhongli glanced up, putting a sudden halt to his stories. Something felt off but he no longer felt your presence near the tomb. He sighed and packed the tea, standing up. Zhongli gazed down at your tomb and took it as a sign to finally leave.

As time passed, he still visited your grave at the end of the year. However, Zhongli no longer stayed more than ten minutes at your grave. It was much colder than what he remembered. Just as Zhongli was about to leave, you walked past him and placed down a singular flower on your grave.

"Who are you?" Zhongli asked, pausing and looking back at you. "It had been centuries since someone other than me had visited this grave." You glanced back and chuckled softly. You nodded and went up to Zhongli.

"So it was you?" you leaned closer to Zhongli, scanning his face. Zhongli nodded with suspicion. You lowered your gaze and softened your tone slightly, "thank you." You murmured before walking away. Zhongli stood awestruck as he saw your figure disappear into the distance just like how you faded away many years ago.

"So you've moved on?" Zhongli sighed, looking back at the tomb. He stood gazing at where you may be but he knew reuniting with you was merely a wish as you had started a new life. As the calm winter winds blew Zhongli's hair he finally felt the comfort he wanted. Even if it was not a reassurance, this was enough. "I hope you're happier."

You turned back, the grave was far from you now. You were closer to Liyue than you are to the only tombstone that stood in that lonely graveyard. You felt your saltwater fill your eyes and drip down in twin rivulets. You wiped them away quickly since once you return, people would be worried about you. You raised your head and gaze up at the sky. You muttered a few words before you continued your journey.

"I hope you're happy too…"

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin hc #genshin impact #spotify #genshin angst #zhongli x reader #zhongli #Spotify

[katsukithme]

First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugou #my hero academy #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #my hero academia #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo x reader

[fuwahiko]

NOT ME TAKING LITERAL DAYS TO FIGURE OUT HOW MUCH BACKSTORY I WANTED TO GIVE THIS AND ACCIDENTALLY CLOSING THE APP AND LOSING WHAT I HAD WHEN I WAS FINALLY GETTING SOMEWHERE I-

Im a disaster but i finally got my head on straight alright HERE'S SOME OUMOTA FOR YA

SO. The V3 kids have gone on the town to hang out. Why? They were sick of always going to Amami's house. They needed a change of scenery. What are they doing? Karaoke? Bowling? Who knows. But they're all making fun of each other.

Their collective love language towards each other is bullying.

At some point, a lot of people get hungry. Miu, for some ungodly reason, yells at Kokichi to go and order for them. And bring the food down when it's done. For some even ungodlier reason, Kokichi agrees. Without an argument. Not even an insult.

He does kiss Kaito while flipping everyone off before walking off, but now everyone's scared of what the gremlin's planning. Only Kaito's safe if Kokichi's got something planned. Boyfriend priveleges work...sometimes.

With Kokichi, he's waiting for everyone's food when someone shouts his name...or something close to it. Intrigued, he turns around and immediately tenses up. But only slightly.

It his ex-boyfriend. Kokichi never wanted to see this ex (who i call Fuckface McAsshole) again. It wasn't healthy, and when he tried to break it off, said ex lost it and dragged shit out for a week and a half. Kokichi was about to turn and rush towards Kaito and the others, because safety in numbers (plus Kaito could throw a mean punch), but the ex got there first. He had also accidentally left his phone on the table with the others.

There was no calling for help. Kokichi was stuck.

So he was forced to play the long game. He didn't wanna make a scene in such a public place. He let his ex talk and talk and talk while retaining none of what he was saying. When the ex noticed Kokichi wasn't listening, he commented. ("...why aren't you listening to me, Ko? Got somewhere better to be? With people that actually want you around? Fucking doubt it.")

When he hears that, Kokichi snaps. Not completely, but enough to get snappy

"Actually, my friends and boyfriend are waiting on their food. I'm here to get their food. And I can't hear the person calling out numbers because of your blabbering. So be quiet."

Kokichi knew he shouldn't have snapped. He knew as soon as his ex's eyes widened, then narrowed. He'd never admit it, but that look made him slightly nervous.

From there, everything escalates very quickly. Quicker than Kokichi anticipated. It's about to get real ugly in two seconds. And everyone's going to hear and stare at whatever's going to go down.

......soooooo now i hand it off to you. What exactly happens between Kokichi and his ex? How do the V3 kids find out about all this, and how do they react? How does Kokichi react after that fiasco? And what do they all (extra emphasis on Kaito bc Oumota) do to try and comfort and/or cheer up Kokichi after THAT?

(Did i listen to "Happier than Ever" by Billie Eilish when i thought of this...maybe i did and maybe i didn't. You can't prove anything.)

this is a really interesting scenario! kokichi feeling so backed up into a corner like that is certainly unusual, for one thing.

ok ok so I like the idea of like, kokichi trying to work on himself a lot. dude needs therapy. and in this au I can see it being the case that kokichi has been working through stuff a lot and has managed to become so close with everyone because of that - like I'm sure in a non despair au he wouldn't be quite so... ~the way that he is~ anyway, but he'd likely still have a lot of issues and struggle to get along with everyone at first, but then with some encouragement from someone he trusts and gets along with more (kaito? maybe someone else? maybe it's more of a slowburn with him getting closer to kaito?) he'd eventually start going to therapy and start slowly working on himself, as well as starting over with some people he maybe started off on the wrong foot with before. it might take some time, but eventually even the people that really didn't get along with him start to open up a little and try to understand him more, and he does the same for them. everyone sees how hard kokichi is trying, and he's really changing for the better, and that inspires them to work on themselves too and it brings everyone a lot closer.

so. when kokichi's ex shows up, it stirs all of this awfulness inside of him, all of this bitterness. it ends up starting to pull at the worst things within kokichi, trying to bring it all to the surface, and kokichi is trying his hardest to stop himself from saying something horrible, from making a scene, from making every stranger in the area turn to look at him with that look that makes him want to disappear. he's trying so hard not to fall back into old habits and old behaviours; he's been working so hard and finally things are looking up for once.

but then he slips up.

he knew he shouldn't have said anything, but his ex wasn't going to leave him alone anyway, and suppressing his own emotions was getting too difficult, so he had to do something. but now his ex was glaring at him even more than before, and kokichi could feel the rage radiating from him, and he immediately regretted ever opening his mouth. but he'd already come this far, and his ex had backed him so far into the corner that all kokichi could do was bite back just as hard.

kokichi's ex raised his voice, and it was like the floodgates had been opened. everything he was saying was blurring together into an endless string of sharp needles that pierced into kokichi, targeting all of his weak points, hurting him over and over, each needle piercing deeper than the last. kokichi snapped back, his own voice just as loud, throwing insult after insult and trying to dig up all that he could think of to hurt him back, trying to find just the right words to hurt his ex even deeper than he had hurt him, all the while a smirk spread across his face as kokichi pretended like he was enjoying himself, enjoying this conflict, but with every word he fired back he only felt more hatred towards himself. it was a form of self destruction, and now that he'd started hurting himself, kokichi didn't know how to stop.

just when kokichi felt like his own self hatred was going to swallow him whole, he half-registered footsteps growing louder just out of view. then, before he knew it, suddenly his ex was being lifted off the ground in front of him.

kokichi's eyes widened as he finally processed what he was looking at. it was kaito. kaito was here and he had grabbed the ex by his shirt and lifted him up, a furious expression spread across kaito's face.

"the fuck are you doing to kokichi?!" kaito practically roared as he held his free hand in a fist.

after maybe a brief moment of relief, kokichi felt fear and panic grab hold of him, and when he met eyes with kaito he seemed to immediately understand exactly what he was feeling.

kaito let go, letting kokichi's ex drop and stumble as he found his footing. "sorry. I wasn't gonna do anything, I didn't mean to scare you." kaito looked ashamed now, and he turned away from kokichi for a moment. kaito had been working on himself a lot too, specifically dealing with anger issues and his tendency to resort to violence when things got hard to deal with, and he'd been making a lot of progress. kaito knew he would've decked this guy if kokichi hadn't looked so upset, and he felt horrible about it. he felt awful that he was just reverting back to his usual ways, and he felt even more awful because he'd made kokichi feel worse, even if only for a second. he felt like such a disappointment. kokichi felt horrible too, and he felt like it was his own fault that kaito had gotten so worked up, that if he'd just dealt with his ex in another way then kaito never would've gotten dragged into this. kokichi had brought the worst out of himself, and now he felt he was doing the same to kaito, pulling him down with him.

just then, security showed up and asked them to leave. kokichi and kaito both had the thought of telling them that the ex was the problem and that they'd just been going about their day until he started shit, but neither of them said anything, just left without making any more fuss. they gave them their money back for the food at least, but now the whole thing had just been a waste.

when they grouped up with the others outside again, kaito holding kokichi's hand as they walked, everyone was chatting and laughing together as they had been doing all day, but they all quickly realised something was up as they saw how shaken kokichi looked and how kaito's face was scrunched up with frustration. of course they'd also seen that the two of them were empty handed, but that wasn't their main concern.

"guys? what's wrong?" kaede rushed over to see them, a look of worry spread across her face. kaito squeezed kokichi's hand a little tighter as he told them all what he'd walked in on. he decided to do the talking himself, knowing kokichi was struggling at the moment and not wanting him to have to explain everything on top of that. he didn't really know what had been happening exactly, but he'd gathered that this guy had been kokichi's ex, and he knew he'd started something with kokichi because he knew that kokichi would never start anything like that himself now.

maki suggested they all move to somewhere quieter, so they headed down a nearby street that lead to an open area with a park that was surrounded by a long wall that was low enough to sit on. kaito sat with kokichi on the wall, pulling him in close at his side and wrapping his arm around him firmly, reassuringly. kaede sat on kokichi's other side, speaking gently and offering to let him borrow her earphones to listen to some music to help him calm down. he refused, but he appreciated the thought. himiko sat on the grass at his feet in silence, but he knew her well enough now to know she was trying her best to support him, even if she didn't know what to say or do. shuichi and maki sat down beside kaito, who was calmer now, but concerned for kokichi and still upset with himself.

"it's all my fault..." kokichi mumbled sadly, his head resting against kaito and his hand clinging onto his shirt. "it's not your fault. he started it, didn't he?" kaito questioned, already knowing the answer. "not that. I mean... I got you involved." kaito ran the hand that was holding kokichi up and down gently along his arm to comfort him, his free hand reaching to stroke his hair. "don't worry about that, that's not your fault at all. I shouldn't have lost my cool. ...sorry again about startling you." kokichi shook his head. kaito felt kokichi's body start shaking, and he realised he was crying. "I'm the worst... I'm the worst, I'm the worst, I'm the worst." kokichi cried as he buried his face further and tried to hide away. "nothing's changed, I'm just as shitty and horrible and worthless as I always have been... I should've just... done things different... but I did the same as I always do..."

of course. kaito finally realised the real reason why he was so upset. sure he was upset over his ex showing up and the nasty things he'd been saying, but now that they were away from him he was more upset with himself than anything, because he'd worked so hard and he felt like none of that work had actually gotten him anywhere. he felt like change wasn't possible, because if he'd reacted that way then to him that surely meant that he was exactly the same as he'd always been, despite how much he'd tried.

"hey. that's not true and you know it." kaito was about to continue, but miu interrupted. "yep, that's bullshit. ha! if you think you're terrible, that guy sounds ten times worse! what a loser." gonta also spoke up, obviously very upset that anyone would raise their voice at his friend. "hmm... that not how gentleman should act. should be polite, even if ex doesn't like you."

"kokichi, we can all see how far you've come and how hard you've been working, so please don't beat yourself up over this one time. that guy is the one at fault, he put you in a difficult position, a really difficult position, and you wouldn't have reacted that way otherwise." kaede reassured him. "she's right, you wouldn't do that unless you felt you had no other choice." shuichi agreed as he handed kokichi some tissues. kokichi had calmed down somewhat, but he needed to get his emotions out still, so everyone waited patiently, offering words of support every so often, kaito still holding him and placing a few kisses on the top of his head, until kokichi stopped crying and pulled away, sitting up and drying his eyes.

angie jumped up off of the grass. "we should do something fun!" rantaro looked up at her from where he was sitting. "you mean like a distraction?" "nyahahaha! yes! doing something fun will help kokichi take his mind off things and feel better!" "do you have something in mind?" kiibo asked. angie thought about it for a moment. "hmm... nope!" rantaro sighed. "we shall just have to think of something, and we should also find somewhere else to eat as well." kirumi said as she stood up, dusting off the front and back of her dress.

ideas began getting thrown around and the atmosphere lightened up quickly - everyone chatting and suggesting fun things to do together, kokichi just quietly listening, but feeling a lot more comfortable again and appreciating his friends' efforts to cheer him up. it wasn't too long before kokichi was joining in, though, and everyone was relieved to see him slowly returning to his usual self; a bit immature, sometimes annoying, but funny, sweet, so full of life. kokichi was someone they'd all grown to love, no matter how things might have started out for some of them with him, and he wasn't at all who he thought he was when he was feeling down on himself. they hoped that one day kokichi would finally understand that.

#ask #oumota #ouma kokichi #group #drabble #aaaa ty for the ask!! it was rly fun writing some oumota uwu #I feel like there might be some cw tags needed for this one possibly? #but idk what to tag so lemme know if there's any warnings I should add #long post