#( ;; ghibli or books i will accept you with open arms. )

[penddraig]

me seeing ppl making hmc muses after being lonely for so long: :)

[unsoundedcomic]

So, Sette got the free will and Duane got the classiness, the undeath and the martial prowess from Raziel. And both of them share some parts of his character arc, that is: living in ignorance; to then coming to think that the grass was greener in the wonderful past and they were robbed of that; to realising that they are very important cogs in the universe's grand scheme of things, but cogs nonetheless. I don't think that Sette will willfully go into Soul Reaver just yet... It would be cool having Duane bound to her arm like that though.

Would the man be an equivalent to Kain, in such a comparison? The world needed a hero, but got a selfish, cruel bastard. The bastard who had no way to win from the start, as the world would have been screwed regardless. Unless the coin, thrown enough times, just happened to land on its edge...

I hope Unsounded ends less abruptly than Defiance did. As open endings go, that was a good one, but I'd still prefer a proper epilogue at least.

Hahaha, the comic's not a remake of LoK, man! :D Although I'd probably say Lemuel has some Kain vibes, and Ruckmearkha looks just like him in the face. Well, weaker jaw. Kain's got jaw for days.

If I wasn't doing a Book 2, Unsounded would definitely have an open ending, and in the same way. LoK closes up its two main character arcs very tidily and I think that's why I've always been just fine with how Defiance ends. You can look back at Blood Omen 2 if you want what eventually happens in the broader scope of things, or just accept that an enemy like the Elder God is never really going to be defeated permanently, and that's just how Nosgoth works. It also helps that the Hylden are so uncompelling and almost invisible as villains, so who really cares what happens to them :3

I think a hastily resolved ending that ties everything up is way worse than an open ending that leaves questions hanging. Look at how most Ghibli movies end. Was anyone truly satisfied by Turniphead changing abruptly into the missing prince, or Chihiro suddenly and rather randomly knowing all the information she needed to end the movie? War shouldn't have ended, parents should have stayed pigs, it's fine.

[navegandoaciegas]

1-2-3 Way

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: smut, bed sharing, there was only one bed???, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, dom!Steve, sub!reader, switch!Bucky, unprotected sex, praise, slight degradation, overstimulation, face fucking, fingering, slight spanking, edging, doggy style, aftercare.

Summary: There’s only one bed and you have to share it with your childhood friends Steve and Bucky.

A/N: Listen… there was only one bed is my favorite cheesy trope, I’m sorry. Thank you for the commission, @maryfloat , I hope you like this!!

It’s so clichè, the way that the receptionist offers you a tight lipped smile and an apology. There must have been an error with the reservation, maybe the server crashed or something, she says, you’ve booked one room, and that room has one bed only. Coincidentally, everyone’s in town at the same time as you, and the only hotel in the area is fully booked.

How unfortunate.

She hands you the keys whilst Bucky hauls your suitcase and his up the stairs, and Steve follows behind him. She eyes them warily and whispers to you, asks if you’re safe and comfortable, and apologises again for the inconvenience.

When Steve, ever the gentleman, proposes they sleep on the floor, you’re almost tempted to accept and thank him. They’re big and strong, and one night on the cold, hard floor won’t kill them.

You hate sharing beds anyways. It gets too warm with more than one body rolling around, and then someone hogs all the blankets, or kicks you in the shins, or elbows you in the ribs, and you can’t catch a break.

Instead you scoff and wave him dismissively. ‘I trust you guys more than I trust myself.’

And you do, really. You’ve known them since those awkward middle school days, where Bucky was chubby and covered in painful acne, and Steve was dangerously skinny and a foot shorter than you. You’ve fallen asleep on their shoulders on long road trips, occasionally napped on their legs in their dorm rooms, fallen asleep on Steve’s hospital bed when he was a frail kid and you and Bucky took turns visiting him.

You trust them, you really do, but still, sharing a tiny bed with them seems more intimate, definitely more wrong, than anything you’ve ever done.

It sends a weird signal down your stomach that your brain can’t quite interpret. You’re not anxious, but as you sit sandwiched between them, you can’t say you’re relaxed either.

Bucky sits to your right, computer perched on his lap, open on the Netflix account he pays for and Steve and you leech off of. He makes the most money with his waitressing job, the old ladies love tipping him for his flirty remarks and bright smiles, so it’s only fair.

Steve munches on a chalky protein bar to your right, a frown on his forehead as he chews with his mouth open and judges Bucky’s recommended section.

“You’re not making me watch another sci-fi, Barnes.”

“And you’re not forcing me through another Studio Ghibli movie, Rogers.”

“C’mon, at least those are relaxing-,”, “and cute,” you quip, intercepting Steve’s snack and taking a bite out of it just to spite him. He side eyes you, pinching your side as hard as he can.

“Oh? I forgot you were the ones paying for the account.”

“This is literal blackmail, holding the damn Netflix over our heads like that.”

“Not sure that blackmail is the word you’re looking for, but go off, bud.”

“Don’t smartmouth me.”

“Or what?”

They bicker like they’ve always done, and you’ve been friends with them long enough to have learnt how to drown out their voices when they fight.

Sometimes your friendship feels like it’s always been, playful, sibling like. They roughhouse you, you make fun of them. It’s familiar, warm, comforting.

No matter how bad school gets, no matter how uncertain your future seems, no matter how many times you get your heart broken, you know that Bucky, Steve and you will always be there to pick yourselves back up.

Some other times the lines get blurred, and it’s scary. But the scarier it gets, the more rewarding it becomes to look for signs, finding them in the smallest of things, like how Steve gets all sulky when you go out on dates, or how Bucky constantly seeks your approval for whatever he does.

You space out as they pick a movie, your mind eerily quiet, your body weirdly warm.

There’s a pit in your stomach that you can’t understand fully. It’s been there a while, ever since your friendship has started to shift, and your stares have been lingering as much as their affectionate touch.

Your eyes travel from Bucky’s black t-shirt to his side profile, tracing the gentle slope of his nose and his pouty lips. Lately, you’ve been looking at him a lot more, catching yourself in the act and shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

What thoughts, you don’t know. Your mind is blank more often than not when you’re set on him. When you’re with them.

You’re doing it again, unconsciously, until Steve elbows you in the side, and you’re rudely snapped out of your reverie.

“You’re too quiet,” he mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Which is weird since you never shut the fuck up,” quips Bucky, hitting you with his shoulder, effectively bringing you back to reality.

You resist laughing because you’ll never give him the satisfaction, and just swing back at him.

“I’m just tired, ‘s all. My neck hurts a lot, guess we’re getting old, huh.”

Bucky just shrugs and presses play on the movie they’ve chosen. You smile at Steve as convincingly as you can to get him off your case.

He nods at you, not quite sold, but leaves it at that, knowing better than to prod you.

“Want me to give you a massage?” he asks, wiggling his fingers in front of your face.

“Please?” you pout, turning your back to him.

Your thought process was that you can never refuse Steve’s healing hands. You didn’t think it through so much, clearly, as he kneads the knots in your neck and you feel your lower body coming alive, a warmth pooling awkwardly in your belly.

Bucky gives you the most offended, betrayed look you’ve ever seen, frowning and pouting like a petulant child.

“S’ not fair. I want a massage too,” he whines, shimmying his shoulders in your direction, offering you the best puppy eyes he can muster.

Cute, you think. “Gross,” you say, “I’ll give you one if you stop with the face.”

He just sticks his tongue out, wiggling between your legs.

The movie plays in the background, your mind too focused on Steve’s warm hands on your bare skin and Bucky’s back muscles flexing under your touch.

The hot feeling in your chest is back when his eyes move from the screen to yours, a goofy smile on his lips, features relaxed.

You bury your hands in his silky hair, scratching his scalp. He almost moans, butting your palm like a kitten.

He’s so effortlessly sweet that it hurts.

It’s silent in a comfortable way, with the sound effect of the movie lulling you all, except your traitorous brain, in a serene state.

It’s a kids movie, and you’re just giving yourselves a massage like you’ve done hundreds of times before, but something feels different about it, in the way that Steve’s warm breath tickles your neck, or the way that Bucky turns around every few minutes just to smile at you.

At some point your hands stop moving, and your back is flush to Steve’s front as he holds you in his arms, Bucky’s head on your lap as he hugs your thighs to his body, fingers absentmindedly caressing your skin, hiking up your legs, higher and higher-, goosebumps erupting all over you. He stops just before the hem of your shorts, making his way down to your knee, just to do it all over again.

You can no longer deny the fluttering in your core, nor the slick gathering in your panties at the thought of what would happen if he just crept higher.

By the time that the end credits roll around, you're cocooned in their warmth, Bucky asleep on your stomach, your own eyes droopy. You’re drowsy, pliant in Steve’s hold as he adjusts you both comfortably on the pillows.

The last thing you feel, as darkness envelops the room, is his lips on your forehead as he whispers to you good night.

-

You hate sharing beds, but when you wake up in the middle of the night between them, you think you may not hate it as much as you thought.

Bucky is a messy sleeper, arm swung over your hips, legs sprawled over half the mattress, face buried in the pillow next to yours, back gently rising with every breath he takes.

Steve is more put together. He sleeps on his side, lips parted, one arm under the pillow, the other close to your side, his fingers intertwined with yours.

You don’t know how long you spend staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest, wondering if this shift in your friendship will bring you closer or break you apart in the long run. You don’t want to entertain the chances of them breaking your heart, or you breaking theirs.

Even the possibility of having to choose between one of the two seems absurd to you.

The bed creaks under Bucky’s weight as he turns to you, tightening his hold on your hips. You’re paralized as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, a breathy whine escaping his lips. All your blood travels to your face when you feel his hard on rub against your legs, his hips uncounsciously rutting on you.

“So soft,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

You’re staring at each other, almost in a daze, and maybe it’s because it’s pitch black outside and you’re in your own little dimension, or maybe it’s the adoration in his bleary eyes, but you don’t turn away when he closes the distance between you.

The kiss you share is soft, lazy, tentative.

You prod his mouth open with yours, tongues swirling together with no rush and no shame. You’d imagined kissing your best friend would feel more awkward than this, and instead his warmth, his taste, his hungry kisses, everything about it seems natural to you, like it’s what you’re supposed to have been doing all this time, a chance you were too scared to take.

You’re so lost in the moment that you barely register the lips on your neck and another set of hands making its way under your t-shirt, settling on your stomach, fingers barely grazing the underside of your boobs.

As soon as his mouth detaches from your own, Steve is pouncing on you, his kiss more rough and demanding than Bucky’s, tongue less hesitant as it explores you, wiping any remnant of sleep out of your mind.

You’re breathless as he invades all your senses, barely wrapping your head around the fact that your shy friend is eating you whole and the flirty, outgoing one is just looking with hunger and rubbing himself on your leg.

Steve breaks away from you, a string of drool connecting you, his eyes dark with desire. He pecks your lips again, smirking at you as he lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, to the column of your neck, down your collarbones, settling between your tits.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, grasping the hem of your t-shirt, “Can I touch you? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod fervently, growing needy with each passing second, “Please Steve, just touch me.”

Bucky gets bolder, kissing you with more conviction this time. Your clothes are shedded, his bare skin heated against yours, your hands in his hair.

Steve takes his sweet time making his way downwards, leaving a trail of bruises on your chest, stomach, hips, kneading your ass. He settles between your legs, looking up at you as he closes his mouth on your clothed pussy, sucking through your panties and leaving a wet mark on them.

You’re embarrassingly horny, arousal dripping out of you, nipples stiff as Bucky plays with them. You want him to rip your panties to shreds and take you right there and then, but Steve has other plans, enjoying the way you’re so pliant underneath him.

He grabs you by the hips, turning you around with your face down and your ass up in the air. The string of your underwear is almost swallowed between your puffy folds, stained with your slick.

Steve takes a deep breath before tugging the string up, teasing your swollen clit with the material, raptured by the way you’re so open and ready for them, glistening with desire.

Bucky sits back on the headboard, eyes half lidded, legs spread before your face. You trace the outline of his hard cock through his boxers, mouth watering at the idea of him inside you, filling you up.

Steve doesn’t give you the time to touch him before he’s tugging you upwards by the hair, flush to his chest. His breath tickles your neck as he teases you through your panties.

“Are you gonna be good for me? For us?”

You don’t have to think about it, strings of ‘yes’, ‘please, ‘touch me’, leaving your lips as if having a mind of their own. It would be embarrassing to be this wanton with anyone else, but with them, everything is like it’s meant to be.

“Then be a good girl, okay? Show Bucky how good you can be with that pretty mouth of yours,” he grunts in your ear, pressing his hard on against your ass cheeks, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

You nod, grind yourself on his cock, so pent up and desperate for release that you rub your legs together just to feel the string of your panties digging in your folds, hoping it would help soothe the ache in your cunt.

“Of course you have, you little slut,” he grunts, pushing your head down on the mattress as Bucky tugs his underwear down.

Yours is ripped by Steve, thrown somewhere in the room, exposing your quivering hole to the cold air. Arching your back, you silently beg for something, anything, which comes in the form of a sting and a loud smack reverberating in the stuffy room.

Steve smacks your pussy again, and again, and again, until the sharp pain in your clit becomes so pleasant that you could come just from that. Bucky wastes no time yanking your head towards his crotch, slapping his heavy cock on your cheek, until your face burns with humiliation and need.

Your hands tremble as you reach for him, hesitating before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, savoring his musky pre cum. You swirl your tongue around the head, teasing his sensitive slit with kitten licks, hands fondling with his balls.

Steve’s thick finger prodding at your entrance makes you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to shove your face down his cock until you’re coughing, lungs burning, clawing at his things as he holds you down.

“Calm down, Bucky. Stop bein’ so desperate,” Steve’s voice is muffled in your ears as you struggle for air, feeling light headed.

He plunges a finger inside your pussy, then another, eased by the embarrassing amount of wetness dripping out of you.

Bucky whines something in return, yanking you up. Tears blur your vision as you heave, barely getting enough air in your lungs before he pushes you down again, using your head as a flashlight.

He keeps you still, nose buried in the dark hair of his pelvis, as he stands on his haunches. Grabbing your face with both hands, he starts relentlessly pummelling inside you, fucking your mouth with abandon.

With a broken moan he thrusts all the way down, his balls slapping your chin, fingers clamping around your nose when you start gagging.

“Oh, she likes that. She’s squeezing my fingers,” Steve says, scissoring his fingers between your gummy walls, “Do it again.”

Bucky pinches your nose one more time, depriving you of all air. Dark spots start appearing at the sides of your vision, mind hazy. He lets up before you faint, barely giving you time before he’s stuffing your mouth with his cock once more.

Steve lays down between your legs, face up. From his perspective he can see your glistening pussy, your tits bouncing with the force of Bucky’s thrusts, and his cock disappear between your abused lips. You’re being so good to them that he feels like rewarding you.

His hands guide you to sit down on his face, your moans muffled as he latches onto your swollen clit. He sucks on it until you’re on the edge of your orgasm, walls quivering with the need to release.

He stops just before you can reach your peak, and spanks your clit again.

“You’re not coming on my mouth now.”

Your throat vibrates around Bucky’s cock with moans of pleasure, spurring him on to hold you down longer, chasing his own orgasm with a string of curses.

“She’s gonna faint, idiot,” Steve scolds him, tearing you away from Bucky’s cock, drool dripping down your sore jaw.

“She can handle it,” rasps Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you frown, slapping Bucky’s hands away when he reaches for you.

“Brats, both of you,” Steve sighs condescendingly, “Be more gentle. And you,” he warns, pinching your inner thigh, “don’t talk unless it’s to beg for more, ‘kay?”

There’s a pause, an awkward moment when you don’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, waiting for Steve to take control again, like he always does.

“So-” Bucky starts, looking up at Steve for guidance, “What now?”

“You’re both- y’know, it’s your first time actually doing it, right?” he asks after pondering for a second, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Yes,” you both respond, and he hums.

“Then you two should go first, be each other’s first times. It makes more sense. I got her ready, so it shouldn’t hurt.”

The idea of Bucky’s cock inside you makes you a bit anxious, considering how much you struggled taking him in your mouth, jaw still sore from his abuse, but it also fills you with warmth.

You trust them blindly, and you want this, you want him to be the first one inside you for whatever reason.

There’s no need for words between you, a tiny nod and a reassuring smile all you need to settle on the pillows, spreading your legs for Bucky to settle in between.

He’s always so sure of himself, but in the moment he looks like a lost puppy. He pumps himself a few times, and braces his weight on one arm as he lines his cock with your entrance.

He gives you one more kiss, tasting himself on your lips, before pushing past your entrance. The tip is barely in by the time that you screech, the pain sharper than you imagined, and Bucky halts immediately despite looking like he’s about to bust on the spot.

Your pussy feels like it’s burning, and no amount of fingers inside you could have prepared you for the stretch of your walls.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers in your ear, a hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you, “You’re doing so good, being such a good girl, you’re so perfect. It will go away before you realize, promise.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” you pant, digging your nails in Bucky’s back.

“Let’s switch, it will hurt less if you’re on top,” Steve suggests, and you and Bucky comply.

He lays down on the pillows as you straddle his hips, propping yourself up on his toned abs. Steve kneels at your side, holding you up as you hover over him.

Your heart’s beating out of your chest as you grasp Bucky’s cock, taking a deep breath to steel yourself before inching down on him, whimpering with every centimeter that gets swallowed by your gummy walls.

The stretch feels like it’s splitting you open, and if it weren’t for Steve’s strong arms, you’d collapse and cry on Bucky’s chest.

Steve whispers praises and reassuring words in your ear and kisses your tears away, swirling his fingers around your clit to help you out, and Bucky caresses the sides of your waist, mumbling broken apologies to you, kissing your neck.

Once you finally bottom out, you still and slump on Bucky’s shoulder, burying your nose in his hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.

The pain is throbbing, burning, but it becomes more subtle and bearable the longer Bucky stays inside you.

“Okay, it’s getting better” you wheeze in an attempt to encourage yourself, “But I can’t feel my legs now.”

They break in a fit of laughter, easing the tension in the room.

“Let’s switch again,” Bucky proposes, slightly out of breath with the way that your pussy is squeezing him in a vice, “I can move.”

You nod, clinging to his neck as he lifts you up, careful not to let his cock slip out of you.

“I want to feel you close,” Steve says, slightly out of breath, “Lay her on me.”

They help you lay on his chest, Bucky’s cock still buried inside you, the pain fading away in a dull sting.

You’re sandwiched between their bodies, enveloped by their warmth and affection, coated in your slick and their sweat, and despite the discomfort, you’ve never felt as full of love as now.

Bucky seeks permission with his eyes, then reassurance from Steve, and starts rocking his hips tentatively, biting hard on his lips to keep himself from cumming embarrassingly fast.

His cock drags against your walls, a ring of white cream slowly accumulating around the base.

It’s not painful anymore, slightly uncomfortable at times when he’s accidentally too rough, but the burn is now a simmering heat that grows in your core with every thrust.

Steve sings praises in your ear, “Look how good you’re doin’, taking Bucky’s cock so well, you’re such a good girl,” whilst Bucky rutts needily on you.

He’s sloppy in his movements, and his hips don’t have a rhythm to them. He takes you high, close to a release, just to fuck it up again when he stutters, involountarily edging you over and over again.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he moans.

In a blur you’re on your stomach. Bucky positions you on your knees and pummels inside you again, thrusting more forcefully as he loses himself in the pleasure.

You whimper between Steve’s tender kisses before Bucky tears you away from him, yanking you flush against his chest.

“I love you, I love you, love you so much, love you,” he keeps mumbling, tightly clutching his arms around your stomach and tits, slamming you hard on him.

At that angle Bucky’s cock pushes against a sensitive spot inside you that makes the coils in your stomach tighter, your clit throbbing and your walls clamping down on him.

Steve, never one to be outdone, sits back on his haunches and manhandles your head down again until you’re faced with his hard, leaking cock.

He’s trimmed more neatly than Bucky, but he’s just as big and intimidating.

He slaps his cock on your lips, smearing his precum on you. You’re a moaning mess, automatically taking him in your mouth, savoring his musk on your tongue.

Your jaw is still sore but you do your best to accommodate Steve, eager to please. You relax your muscles and let Bucky’s thrusts do the work for you, already lightheaded with the lack of air.

They keep stuffing you with their cocks, bouncing you between each other, the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy and the bed creaking filling the room.

Bucky’s fingers teasing your clit, your lungs burning, your vision going spotty, it’s all too much for you.

Just as you think you’re about to reach your peak, you feel Bucky pause and stutter, a choked moan escaping his throat as he comes, stuffing you full of his warm cum. Steve comes at the same time, and you almost choke on his release as he spills his load down your throat.

It feels good, you’re fuller than you’ve ever been, but it’s still not enough to push you over the edge.

You both collapse on Steve, exhausted, cum pouring out of your hole and onto the sheets. You expect him to take you immediately after, instead he snakes a hand between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit, overstimulated with all the touching.

“You did so well, baby, you were so good for Bucky. Now cum on my fingers, cum for us,” he moans, twirling your bud between his fingers.

Pent up as you are, it doesn’t take long for you to finally come, almost blacking out with the intensity of your orgasm, your limbs shaking and quivering between theirs.

When you come down from your high, you’re tired out, your whole body is sore, your hips and legs hurt, and the cum seeping out of your entrance reminds you of the burning pain there, now back with a vengeance.

When morning comes, you’ll have to remind Steve to buy you Plan B.

The exhaustion catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow, a loud ring in your ears as you barely register your surroundings, Bucky already asleep by your side in true Bucky fashion while Steve takes care of you both, cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.

He whispers ‘I love you’ and kisses the tip of your nose.

Maybe one day you’ll say it back.

For now, you let yourself rest in their embrace, always the three of you like it’s meant to be.

—

Damn, 4k words of porn. This felt like giving birth or something sksjshj

Please, share and leave a comment if you can 🥰

[cinqplusneuf]

It’s one of those days

Written for the event Shepherds-Summer by @shepherds-of-haven

Prompt for June 1 : College words : 896 characters : Tahvin, Trouble

--

It wasn’t in Tahvin's habit to be late.

It really wasn’t.

First, he didn’t hear his alarm. Or more specifically, he didn’t hear his alarm because he forgot his phone in the kitchen, resulting in a very confused and dazed wake-up session until his brain finally kicked out and promptly propelled him out of bed.

And because he was late, he had to wait for Trouble to finish his shower as Tahvin missed his turn thirty minutes ago. He was left fretting in front of the bathroom door (who was doing a poor job at muffling Trouble's singing), texting Red that their study session would start a little bit later than what was settled on.

Red, bless him, agreed to reschedule it one hour later.

When Tahvin finally entered the bathroom, hot, humid, and foggy and smelling of Trouble's heady soap, he was again in time. 

Then, his bike broke.

It decided to break three blocks away from his place, almost toppling him over on the asphalt. Tahvin managed to balance himself in extremis and thus avoiding a rather painful landing but his, of course, unzipped bag decided at this moment to spill all of his personal belongings to the ground.

Tahvin was a polite person, but at this moment he allowed a few curses to slip away from his frowning lips as he crouched to gather his books.

Though, in his misery, he managed to grasp some luck as his bike decided to break just in front of the bus stop. And because Tahvin had an amazing friend and roommate, Trouble accepted to retrieve his bike and bring it back to their place, allowing Tahvin to move freely without the dead weight of his now completely useless bike.

Trouble showed up at the same time the bus did, and Tahvin barely had time to slip between the closing doors, hairs ruffled by Trouble’s hand and ears still pleasantly ringing from his laughter. His cheeks were a little warm, and his lips pulled into a small smile when he took a seat at the back of the bus. 

The fact that he was buzzed on hidden feelings made him a little more sluggish on the fact that the bus was unnaturally slow.

Tahvin blinked and the bubble popped, the sound of honking, roaring engines, and muttered grumbling making him realize that they were stuck in traffic. Heavy, intricate traffic that will, much to his sorrow, not be dealt with quickly.

Tahvin let out a discouraged groan as he took his phone out to let Red know that he will be late. Again.

He was about to send his somehow miserable text but was however stopped in his action by the bus driver who, rather grumpily, informed their passengers that the bus will no longer continue its ride. And wouldn’t bother with an explanation as the doors were immediately opened to allow a line of rather disgruntled passengers to leave the bus.

In seconds, Tahvin found himself in the middle of a busy morning crowd, in a part of the city he barely knows with no means of transportation available and a study session that he would never reach in time.

When Tahvin called directly Red to cancel and apologize to him, Red was more sorry towards him than anything else and Tahvin wondered how much sweeter his friend could be. With a promise of another future session, one that Red hoped Shery would join as well, Tahvin hung up and walked back home, steps a little heavier than ordinary.

--

“What are you doing here?” Trouble asked in understandable confusion, watching Tahvin taking off his shoes. “Weren’t you supposed to meet Antiqua?”

“I was, yes, but apparently someone or something up there decided it wasn’t worth their time.”

“Uh?”

Tahvin patted Trouble’s arm when he walked past him, smile tired but easy. “It is just one of those days you know?”

“Ah, shit…”

“Exactly.”

“Sorry to hear about that, Tahvin… You, uh- You wanna watch a movie or something? To take the edge off?” Trouble rubbed his neck in such a bashful display that Tahvin couldn't help but smile fondly at him.

“I’ll take you on the offer. Studying right now will gain me nothing,” agreed Tahvin, entering the living room before plopping down on the sofa, groaning and closing his eyes blissfully. 

“Oh, neat! So what do you want to watch?” Trouble said excitedly as he crouched down in front of the TV to access their DVD collection. “We got your Ghibli movies, and uh… I think Chase lend me some weird-ass movie about sharks and sand but I think it was more to mess with Ayla…”

Tahvin let out a chuckle. “You can pick the movie, I don’t mind.”

While Trouble was rummaging through the DVDs and voicing his opinion via numerous comments, Tahvin found himself lying down on the sofa, allowing his body to sprawl into every space available. Their sofa was a heaven of comfort, and Tahvin stopped counting the number of times they would take naps on it, especially when the sun hits it just right.

Tahvin may have snoozed a little because he woke up completely startled by the litany of pure, dirty curses Trouble let out in a booming, powerful voice. “W-What’s wrong?” Stammered Tahvin as he could only gape at his roommate, stupefied.

“TV’s fucking broke!”

God freaking dammit.

[ungodlyragesofwriting]

WIP Prep Tag

I was tagged by @leicawri,@montevena and @ashes-to-sen. Thank you all so much for tagging me and I’m so sorry for taking so long to do this! I’m gonna do the tag for The Falling Sun Bakery.

And I’m tagging: @writeouswriter, @omgbrekkerkaz, @priyaele, @pilipalea and anyone else who wants to do this1

FIRST LOOK

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

Two twins meet a cheerful witch and delve deeper into the magic present in their world, but just as they seem to be settling into their new home a mysterious threat looms in the distance.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

I plan to make it into a duology.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Running around in an open field, reading under the sun, spending a whole afternoon trying to make croissants, whispered spells, warm hugs, the buzz of rumors making their way through the city, fear bubbling up in your chest at the unknown, the sound of cutting fresh made bread, sitting in a room surrounded by books written in languages you don’t know

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Definitely the feel Studio Ghibli films give you, especially Howl’s Moving Castle and Spirited Away. I grew up watching them with my family so I think I’ve always wanted to write this sort of more light-hearted and fun fantasy type novel.

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

Sarina and Amalie Collins are the two protagonists of this story, although Evie plays a huge role as well.

7. Who is their closest ally?

In Dreter probably Evie and Alden since they’re the first people they meet and become friends with because their stores are right in front of each other.

8. Who is their enemy?

In the big picture their enemy is Noah Hughes and his followers (would he even call them his followers? he was no idea what he’s doing) but obviously there’s more to that and Noah is kind of being manipulated by someone else but shhhhh that’s a secret.

9. What do they want more than anything?

For Sarina it’s to finally feel at home somewhere (preferably in Dreter).

For Amalie it’s to feel like she has a real purpose.

For Evie it’s to feel safe and not have the need to pack up everything every 5 years and move.

10. Why can’t they have it?

Sarina is constantly doubting what people think about her and refuses to completely settle down somewhere until she feels like she knows everything about the place.

Amalie thought her purpose would be to take over the family’s bakery but when they suddenly move to Dreter she begins to rethink what she truly wants to do.

Evie feels very accepted by the city of Dreter but because of a past experience she doesn’t like to stay in any place for too long out of fear that something might change in the way people view witches/magic.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Sarina believes she always has to be strong and hide her weaknesses from others.

Amalie believes she is too selfish.

Evie believes she brings danger to people’s lives.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Sarina is a girl of around 17/18 years old with white skin and pink undertones. She has wavy, dark black hair that she lets grow down to her mid-back and usually ties back, along with dark brown eyes. Her skin gets easily burned and because of this her mother usually forces her to wears a sunhat. Alden likes to point out that she has two dimples on her right cheek that appear when she smiles. Sarina is the tallest out of the three.

Amalie is the same age as Sarina and is the same skin color as Sarina, although she pushes towards warmer undertones . She has shoulder length blonde hair that is more curled and blue eyes. She rarely wears the sunhats her mother insists on her wearing as well and thus has more freckles lining her face. Evie says they make her look like a Leichtlins’ Lily. Amalie, although she refuses to talk about it, is the shortest.

Evie is the eldest of the three, about to be 19, with black skin and rose undertones. She has black, coily hair that reaches her shoulders. She constantly has paint stains on her arms and aprons as she likes to paint in her down time. She also has many small moles dotting her hands. 

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

Can we ever feel like we have fulfilled a purpose? Will we ever feel truly secure in one place? Can we accept changes or will there always be pushback from certain people? 

14. What is the external conflict?

Noah Hughes and his band of followers.

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?  

Death or being driven out of Dreter.

17. Do you know how it ends?  

Yes, but you guys don’t get to know that yet sorry hehe.

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?

Friendship, family, justice, the uselessness of war, the inevitableness of change

19. What is a recurring symbol?  

I usually find the symbols as I write so I have no set ones so far. 

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

In the city of Dreter, a pretty big port city in the country of Adania. It is known for its cuisine, colorful shops and buildings, interesting and diverse flora as well as the kind locals. It is a very cheerful place, which is one of the main reasons Evie, and later the Collins family, chose to settle there.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Yeah! Mainly of the beginning and the ending and some of the middle. 

22. What excited you about this story?  

Everything really but I am looking forward to developing the characters and world.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

Um, I just write I guess. I usually outline what’s gonna happen in the chapter and just go and see how some things might change while I write.

[nth-generation-kpop]

So Nothing’s Left Unturned

Chapter: 6/?

Word count: ~3500

Summary: What does it mean to find the one? Find the person whose smile is home, whose eyes are comfort, whose voice is love. Find the person who makes you think maybe you found the meaning of life. Find the person who makes you think what happened makes what could have been irrelevant. 

Chapter VI - Overjoyed

Chan hesitated a moment before answering the call in a low voice. “Hey.”

“Hi, Chan.” He said it as if he was surprised, as if it was two separate thoughts. As if he was reassuring himself.

“You never actually call me”

“I call you!”

“You text me, that’s different”

There was a pause. “I call you”

“You call me when I’m late for something and—” he stopped short. “And when you break up with your boyfriends”

“Yeah.” Something stirred in Chan’s stomach as they sat in silence, and he pulled his ear away from the phone to check whether Woojin had hung up. “I should call more”  

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I wasn’t… happy. This thing with Doyun, it was throwing everything else off.”

Chan nodded to himself, not really knowing what to say besides the usual. It felt different this time, of course. “I was going to order takeout… do you want to come over?”

“Yeah, I was actually… well I’m standing outside that ramen place you like, so I could pick that up? I was going to pick that up, but then I thought I should make sure you weren’t busy.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“I know your order, can I be there in half an hour?”

“Of course, come over whenever.”

“Thanks Chan.” There was a sadness in Woojin’s voice that Chan didn’t quite recognize, a longing that hadn’t been there for all the other boyfriends. It tore at his heart, but at this point he wasn’t sure if that was because he was seeing his friend in pain, or because he was seeing a man he had feelings for broken up over another.

“Of course,” he said, but Woojin had already hung up.

He stared at his phone until Woojin’s contact photo disappeared, then he quickly turned around and stuck his head into the living room. Changbin sat cross-legged on his couch, mouth open, chopsticks poised to stuff a dumpling into his mouth until Chan called his name. “Sorry. I need you to leave. And take the food with you.”

“Now?” The younger boy looked down at their numerous takeout boxes.

“Yes. Share with Felix, or keep it for leftovers, I don’t care I just need you to be gone by the time Woojin gets here.”

Changbin gave him a knowing look. “Jisung said he was going to--”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you’re what?” He raised an eyebrow at Chan, almost judging. “Be here to pick up the pieces like always.”

“That’s enough for me,” Chan assured Changbin (and himself). The other huffed, shoving the dumpling in his mouth and beginning to pack up the rest. “It shouldn’t be. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“It does,” Chan said. “For now, at least, it does.”

~~~~~

Chan put on a smile for Woojin when he opened the door, pulling him into a hug right away-- noodles and all. The elder pouted a bit, but mostly assured Chan he was fine with a sad smile. Usually he was a little more hopeless and unconvinced he’d ever find love-- it made Chan sad how resigned he was this time. He just sat cross legged and slurped his noodles and asked Chan about his day. It was strange.

Eventually, just after they’d put away their empty bowls, Chan had to ask.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Woojin frowned at him. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure? Why?”

“You don’t seem okay, you don’t seem like yourself.” Scooting over, Chan threw an arm around Woojin’s shoulder and Woojin smiled, leaning in.

“I feel more like myself than I have in months.”

“Were you really that unhappy?”

Woojin sighed. “Not in the moment. I was happy in the moment, and then I just… wasn’t. I think I was telling myself that I was happy a lot.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Woojin said. “Me too.” They stayed like that for a moment, feeling each other’s slow breathing. “Thanks for this. Really, you’re exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Anytime.”

Hauling himself off the couch, Woojin planted a kiss on Chan’s cheek and picked up Chan’s notebook from the table across the room. “What do we have here?”

“Composition book,” Chan said simply as Woojin sat back down beside him. “I’ve been working on a new one, you can read it if you want. Last page.” “You don’t mind?”

“Nah, it’s pretty much done. I’ve just got to figure out how to end it.” He watched Woojin read, a smile playing on his lips. “I wrote it after my birthday, after what we talked about.”

“Play it for me.”

Chan was a bit startled. He rarely played his pieces for his friends, and he’d sang in front of Woojin before on many occasions but never like this. Never one of his own pieces, and never one on one. “You want me to?” Woojin nodded.

Chan stood and retrieved his guitar, opting to sit across the room facing Woojin. He strummed gently, tuning it a bit more out of habit or nerves than necessity, and played the opening chords just to practice, before shifting his guitar and glancing up at Woojin. The way he was staring, half smiling… Chan focused back on the task at hand, his stomach fluttering. He played the opening chords again.

“If I’m not enough, or going by your words too much, then why can't you let me adjust to the movement of you?

If my love's not worth the risk that you're taking each day then let me be the first to say I'ma make you stay

Now, when you're all alone, I know you think about these words bespoke

And I hope you're still mine, I hope you're still mine

I know it takes time, time that you say you don't hold, but here alone, searching for cold, you can't see through

And it's easy to say that I'm not the same as the other ones, the situation hurts like any other one you can't see through

But when you're all alone I know you think about these words bespoke

And I hope you're still mine, I hope you're still mine, I hope you're still mine

I hope you're still mine.”

Silence hung in the air for just a moment, and then Woojin was practically vibrating. “Chan, that was beautiful.”

He smiled down at his guitar, playing a few more notes before setting it aside. “Thank you, I… I wrote about a lot of things recently, but this is the one that turned into something. At least, so far.” Woojin just watched until he continued. “It meant a lot too, everything you said.”

“You deserve to be loved.”

“You know you do too, right?” Chan knew the answer. “You do. And you deserve to be with someone that makes you happy, that loves you for all the amazing things you are.”

Woojin wouldn’t meet his eyes. “All of it… it’s so difficult.”

Difficult didn’t begin to cover it, Chan knew this too. Their situations were wildly different in his mind, but at the same time they understood each other. The longing for love, the heartache, the second-guessing of oneself-- Woojin was as of late hypersensitive to the types of guys he was dating, to finding the one, and Chan… well Chan felt like he was eternally hypersensitive to everything and completely unable to stop. He didn’t so much worry about finding the one, just someone to love. They were both characters in one Queen song or another.

And it was daunting! How were they supposed to try and figure out the world, figure out love and dating and devotion while still figuring themselves out. It was so much easier, at least for Chan, to focus on the simple thing-- work, hobbies, friendships. If everything wasn’t so damn difficult maybe years ago he would have just asked Woojin out immediately instead of deciding ‘just friends’ would be easier. But that was then, and this was now, and neither of them needed to be fixating on the profound what-could-have-been, what-is-the-meaning-of questions.

Chan hauled himself off the chair and plopped next to Woojin on the couch, pulling him to lean against his chest. “I know. Come on, let’s watch a movie or something. I’m in the mood for Ghibli.”

So they left it at that, no more serious talking for the time being, no more deep stuff. They ate popcorn and made jokes and relived a slice of their childhood.

It was easy.

~~~~~

“Are you sure this is how you want to end it?”

The weight in Chan’s stomach, that heavy anxious feeling, seemed to expand. “You don’t like it.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just… I don’t get it. It doesn’t feel like... anything. It seems like you didn’t know how to end it so you just… repeated the lines a bunch?”

He nodded. Yijeong was right, the end was wrong. It didn’t feel complete, he’d known that going in but he’d hoped he was just being finicky. “To be honest, I got it from a Jonghyun song. I guess it maybe doesn’t work as well here.”

Yijeong shook his head, smiling. “We can work with it, but just tell me where you’re trying to go. You’re telling a story here, it’s a really really good story too so… Do you want it to be a,” He paused, gesturing indistinctly. “Like a retreat, it slowly fades out like a surrender. You're accepting how things are and backing away, ‘I hope you're still mine but I'm being realistic’?”

Chan snorted. “I wish, that would be simple. No, I’ve got this sort of idea but I couldn’t make it sound good because it needs to sound… convoluted, not straightforward. Strong, I wanted it to pick up and then peak in intensity-- the whole song is pretty even but I was the last part to be dramatic.”

Yijeong thought for a moment, nodding. “So you're putting up a fight.”

“Not a fight persay. It’s… I want it to be equal parts desperation and love at the beginning, ‘I hope you’re still mine, I need you to be mine.’”

“Okay, then?”

“Then, it's still desperate but it's also determined. More confident, and this is where it peaks.”

Yijeong hummed, jotting something down. “Strong vocals.”

“Yes, really strong vocals, almost ballad vocals.”

“And the end?”

Chan avoided Yijeong’s eyes. He’d never hear the end of this one. “I'd like it to end happy. Maybe we could make it a bit melancholy with a drop back to the feel of the beginning. Slow, gentle, a bit uncertain but calm.”

“I don't know about uncertain, but let's see what we can do.”

They bounced ideas off each other, tweaking and retweaking and pulling in a couple others to get opinions on one version versus another. By the end of the session Chan had recorded it, using himself as the guide vocals for whatever artist would end up getting his track. He was curious as to who it would be, regardless of the fact that he wouldn't have much of a say in the decision. Part of him hoped that even if an artist popularized it, Woojin would still imagine him singing it in his living room with only his guitar. This one would always be special to him.

“So you've got a boyfriend now?” Chan glanced up from his thoughts, completely caught off guard. “Or, you've almost got yourself a boyfriend? You were clearly writing this for someone.”

“Uhhh, yeah. Almost, it's something that I think has been a long time coming.”

“Well good, good for you. You're at that peak intensity point, huh? Hang in there.”

“It's worth it.”

Yijeong laughed. “Yeah, more than you probably know.”

~~~~~

“I hope you're still mine.

I hope you're still mine.

I hope you're still mine, still mine, still hope you're still mine, you're still hopelessly mine, you're still, you're still mine, you're still

Hope you're still mine, you're still, you're still mine, you're still, hopelessly mine, hope you're still mine, you're still, you're still mine, you're still, hopelessly mine, you're still mine, you're still mine, yeah

You know I need your love, god knows that I need your love, you're mine

I hope you're still mine…”

Chan’s voice faded out and Woojin wiped tears from his eyes as the recording ended. Hopelessly in love, he left the message unanswered. He didn’t have the words yet. 

~~~~~

Bang Chan 11:28am

What did you think?

Bang Chan 2:06pm

Woojinnie? Have you listened?

Bang Chan 8:49pm

Is everything okay?

Kim Woojin 8:50pm

Could you come over?

~~~~~

Woojin paced back and forth across the kitchen after Chan texted that he was on his way over. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to make a huge, terrible, life-altering, and unfixable mistake. He couldn’t stop wondering if this would ruin everything, but the song… Woojin also couldn’t shake the feeling that they couldn’t go on this way, him desperately in love and Chan oblivious. I hope your still mine. God knows that I need your love. If my love’s not worth the risk. He couldn’t get any of it out of his head, the melancholy of it but the hopefulness-- at least that’s what he felt. Maybe he was reading too far into it, maybe the song wasn’t actually for him or about him or maybe Chan didn’t feel the same way at all. But he was going to tell Chan, he’d decided as much, regardless of his lack of confidence and rampant inner turmoil.

The thing he forgot to account for was his roommates. He heard a key in the lock, panicking because wow Chan got here very fast, but he realized that Chan wouldn't have a key and the reality of his mistake hit him. However this conversation went, Woojin didn't particularly want them around for it. Luckily, Seungmin and Hyunjin were both perceptive and kind. The moment they laid eyes on Woojin, Hyunjin let out a low “woah…” and Seungmin simply peaked over his shoulder with concern.

“Chan’s coming over in a second…”

“Chan?” Hyunjin elbowed Seungmin, who looked confused for a moment before his eyes went wide. “Oh. Chan is… coming over.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell him about the whole...?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yes?”

They blinked at each other for a moment before Hyunjin picked up his bag and said “Well that's great, Seungmin and I will be out of your way for at least a few hours. We just stopped to pick up something, Seungmin go get the thing you were going to pick up so we're not late to Jisung's.”

The younger panicked looking around frantically before darting over and grabbing a pen off the coffee table. “This! My lucky pen. I need to do really well on this assignment, gotta have my pen…” Seungmin said with a forced laugh. “Off we go.”

“Smooth,” Woojin heard Hyunjin say as they left. “I was thinking, phone charger? Maybe--” the close of the door cut off their words and Woojin let out a huge breath. He owed them breakfast muffins for a month, minimum. And on top of clearly changing their plans as not to interrupt, they unwittingly distracted him-- Woojin felt like he could breathe again. His brain wasn’t spiralling out in panic for a blissful moment.

That is, until a knock on the door made his heart jump to his throat. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and opened it, letting Chan in and quickly closing it behind him.

“Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?” He laid a hand on Woojin's arm, the lightest pressure coaxing Woojin to face him but not forcing him. Woojin turned, finding his voice as he looked at Chan.

“Nothing's... wrong persay. I just, I listened to your song.”

They moved into the living room and sat down as Chan said “Okay?” When Woojin failed to elaborate, something crumbled in Chan's expression and he added, “You didn't like it.”

Woojin let out a breathy laugh, taking one of Chan's hands in both of his and dropping his eyes to stare at them instead. “No, no. I loved it.”

“Oh. Then what…” Chan didn't know what to say. What's the problem? What’s wrong? Why am I here? “Is it not about the song?”

“Not really?”

“Then is something else wrong?”

Woojin looked away for a moment, turning his head to the side, still holding Chan's hand, still avoiding his eyes. “No, nothing's wrong--”

“Persay” Chan interrupted, making Woojin smile. He could always make Woojin smile. He stared into Chan’s eyes now, sighing.

“There's just something I have to tell you, and it's kind of scary.”

Chan just smiled at him, reaching up to brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “Hey, it's okay. You can tell me anything.”

“But what if it messes everything up!”

Chan squinted. “Well, as the world's foremost expert on imagining situations where everything could go wrong… are you secretly betrothed to a foreign prince who's whisking you away to a far off land tomorrow?”

“No.”

He nodded. “Hmm, have you stolen my identity and wracked up thousands of dollars worth of debt and several arrest warrants under my name?”

“No.”

“And you didn't hate my song itself, but did you hate my singing voice so much that you brought me here to sit me down and tell me to stick to production?”

Woojin smacked him lightly in the shoulder. “No, your singing voice is beautiful.”

“I know,” Chan teased. And he smiled that stupid, kind smile that made Woojin feel safe and warm and home. “I mean thank you. Seriously Woojin, you're freaking me out a little with all of this. No matter what it is, I'm sure nothing is going to be ruined. Just tell me.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“I guess… well, first I wanted to ask who you wrote the song for.”

Chan's expression changed immediately, first surprised and then completely closed off. He pulled his hands away from Woojin and tried to subtly adjust himself in his seat so that it wasn't obvious that he was moving away. “Oh, uh… well.”

“I need to know.”

“Woojin, if I made you uncomfortable-- I never wanted you to know. I didn't think I was being obvious but, I guess--”

“I love you.” Silence. “Chan, I'm in love with you and I have been for-- for god knows how long and I need to know if you wrote it about me.”

Chan's mouth hung open, then closed and opened again, but no words came.

“I hope you're still mine? Hopelessly mine?”

“Woojin are you serious? Are you sure?”

Woojin let out a watery laugh at the dumb look on his face. “Yes! Yes I'm sure, but Chan I need you to tell me--”

Chan scooted forward, taking Woojin’s face in his hands. “Of course it's about you. Not… so much the first part, that's about me getting my shit together, after what you told me. But yes, a lot of it about you.” And I hope you’re still mine.

“Then you think that maybe this could work? We could try it?”

“I want to,” Chan said, wiping away stray tears. “I’m in love with you too.”

Woojin let out a sob and Chan pulled him in for a hug, shushing him softly as Woojin buried his face against Chan's shoulder. “Are you sure?” he repeated.

“Am I sure,” he teased, threading his fingers into Woojin's hair with one hand and rubbing his back with the other. “I'm positive. It just took me a while to come to the realization.”

“Yeah.”

“Jisung says I'm dumb.”

“Jisung says I'm dense.”

“Jisung's an asshole why are we friends with him?”

Woojin sighed, sniffling as he pulled away from Chan. “Because he's kinda right.”

Chan brushed Woojin’s hair away from his forehead, planting a kiss there. “Yeah.”

They talked for a while longer, a bit about the song, a bit about them. Woojin admitted he’d been interested since the beginning, opting not to bring up the date/not date from way back when. Chan admitted that he really, really hated Doyun no matter how much he knew that Doyun was a good kid. Woojin kissed Chan.

Seungmin snapped a picture of the two lying together asleep on the couch hours later, turning off the TV before he and Hyunjin snuck off to their bedrooms. He sent it to Woojin and deleted it from his phone-- it seemed like a private moment, but maybe one they’d want to remember.

(A/N: The song is Him.Her. by James Gillespie and it’s delightful!!) 

[fidemcanem]

“Here’s another curse for you - may all your bacon burn.”

Studio Ghibli Sentence Meme ( accepting ) | @pr0ngs ft (of course) @lupiinee and @xonismsx

It’s more than a little unusual for Sirius and James to be early to breakfast.

James may be an early riser—obnoxiously so, some might say—but even he, Sirius-Black-wrangler extraordinaire, can’t make the task of easing Sirius from asleep to awake an easy one. Of all four boys, Sirius is the heaviest sleeper, and mornings aren’t his natural habitat.

And so there’s the bribery (bacon, Pads, think of the bacon) and the bartering (if you get up now, we’ll let you sleep until noon on Sunday) and the ambush (I’ll grab his sheets, you tickle his feet). Between the three of them, they can generally get him up and out of the door in time for a decent breakfast, but it’s not all that uncommon for Remus and Peter to leave James to fight the good fight on his own, appearing twenty minutes after them with a shuffling Sirius in tow.

Today, Remus and Peter arrive down at breakfast and find both James and Sirius already down there. That’s suspicious enough in itself, but even from a distance it’s easy to see that Sirius is buttering his toast with extreme prejudice, slamming his knife down on the table when he’s done, and James is glowering off into the distance as he chews.

The tension between them is palpable, for all that they’re in their usual spots, wedged on the bench together despite the ample room either side of them. Their legs and arms are pressed close, like always, but James reaches across Sirius for the butter and gets his hand smacked away.

Remus and Peter exchange a look and make their cautious way over to the table.

“Morning,” Peter offers bravely, as he swings his legs over the bench and reaches for the toast, half-expecting Sirius to take a fork to his hand. Sirius only huffs a breath. James harrumphs. Sirius has moved on from abusing to his toast to an unnecessarily aggressive assault on his sausages, chopping them to pieces with such an intense ferocity that Remus feels mildly unwell.

“All right?” Remus asks, with a little more hesitation than Peter.

“I don’t know, Moony,” James says. “Let’s check with Sirius, since he always knows best. All right, Sirius?”

“I don’t know, James,” Sirius echoes, viciously. “Maybe you should just answer for all of us. Must be a real curse, always knowing the answer to other people’s problems and not your own.”

“Here’s another curse for you,” James says, lunging for the butter dish. Sirius pulls it away at the last moment so that James is left half-standing, hand closed around nothing. “May all your bacon burn.”

“—all right then,” Remus says, and picks up the paper.

“Are you two done yet?” Peter asks, when he drops down into an armchair in the common room. Sirius and James are all squashed up on one between them, Sirius’ legs hanging over the arm, and James’ arm resting on Sirius’ head.

“Good question,” James bites out. “Done being an arse, Pads?”

“When you’re done being a wanker.”

“Right,” Peter says. “James, Remus was asking after you. Sirius, get your chess set. I’m about due to beat you again.”

“You wish,” Sirius mutters as James disentangles himself. The imperious scowl stays, but his eyes follow James right up until he disappears up the stairs towards their dorm.

“You wanted me?”

Remus blinks up at James, lifting his head from his charms textbook. He’s got notes spread out on the bed around him, and a half-finished essay at his side.

“Did I?” he asks.

“Peter said so.”

“Yes, well. Peter probably just wanted to spend a nice evening in the common room without you and Sirius swiping at each other,” Remus observes mildly, and drops his gaze back to his book. His eyes scan a few lines, and then he turns the page. James lets out an irritated sigh, and flops backwards onto his own bed, arms spread wide.

“Not my fault he’s being a right wanker,” James protests. Remus makes a non-committal hum, and turns another page. “What? He is!”

“What about?”

James grows suddenly evasive. “You know. Sirius-stuff.”

“Ah.” Another page turns. Remus scribbles down a sentence, and then scratches absently at his neck with the end of his quill.  He’s got ink on his fingers, James notices, and he’s getting that mildly harassed look that means he’s been at it for a while.

“Here,” James says, levering himself up and perching himself on the side of Remus’ bed. “I’ll help.”

“Thought you hadn’t started it yet?” Remus asks, suspiciously.

“Haven’t,” James admits with a grin. “But two heads are still better than one.”

“Damn,” Peter sighs, as his king is knocked from the board with gleeful violence. Sirius sits back, forgoing his usual triumphant gloating. Really, Peter should have known better than to challenge Sirius to a game in this mood; he’s at his best when his playing is focused and aggressive.

But really, it hadn’t been much about the chess, anyway. Peter dutifully notes Sirius’ victory on the running tally they’ve got marked up on the inside of the box. Peter’s still a couple of games ahead, but it’s a close thing. Sirius’ gaze flickers—obviously, longingly—towards the stairs. Peter does his best not roll his eyes.

“Just go and say sorry,” he suggests. Sirius’ gaze snaps back to Peter, and for a moment there’s a derisive sneer hooking over his teeth before it’s pushed away.

“For what?” Sirius demands, only a little strained as he tucks his anger back under his skin. Peter observes him steadily and tries not to take offence, knowing as he does that Sirius has unlearned a lot of things, but not everything. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” Peter asks with a shrug.

There’s a long pause, followed by a reluctant “s'pose not”. Sirius’ pride is all too often his downfall.

“Well then,” Peter says, and flaps a hand. “Go forth and apologise. I’ll put the chess away.”

It looks for a moment like Sirius is going to stay right where he is, but then his fingers drift to where James’ palm had been pressed, earlier, and he stands, casually, like he’d been planning to all along.

“ —a what charm?” Remus asks, irritably. James squints closer at the notes he’s dug out from his own bag.

“Haunting?” He tries. “Gurning?”

Remus leans over the paper too, and frowns hard at it, as though pure concentrated effort might be enough to decipher James’ lazy scrawl.

“Wanting?” Remus suggests. “Honestly James, how do you read this?”

“Sirius can,” James says, glumly, and why is Remus not surprised that Sirius is the only one who can make out the utter enigma that is James Potter’s handwriting when he wasn’t paying attention?

“Give it here, then.”

They both jump. Neither had heard Sirius push the door open, both too focused on the puzzle in front of them. Remus looks first to James and then to Sirius.

There’s one of those conversations, the kind that doesn’t require any words, and then James holds out the parchment. When Sirius crossed the room to take it, he ends with his fingers threaded thoughtlessly through James’ hair.

“Warming charm,” he says. “Numpties.”

“Oh,” James says, brightly. “Well that makes way more sense.”

And that’s that, apparently: whatever argument was being drawn out between them is over, and without so much as a word. Remus dips his head to make a note. From the corner of the eye he catches two faint movements: James tips his head, minutely, towards Remus. Sirius, just as subtly, shakes his. He swallows hard and pretends not to notice.

Peter comes in just then, anyway, chess set under one arm. He flings it towards Sirius who catches it one-handed, almost effortlessly, a mere three inches from James’ face. James, unperturbed, wrinkles his nose.

“Really wish you’d stuck it out on the team,” he grumbles. Sirius grins.

“Yeah, well. They couldn’t handle me.”

“Who can?” Peter snorts, and Remus finds a quiet smile curling at his lips, too, though he knows for a fact he’ll be getting no more of his essay written tonight. Bickering breaks out between them all, fond and free of the vicious irritation of the last few days.

Normal service is, at last, resumed.

[ofdogsandchocolate]

Love-def: Kai and Bri- ep 1

                                          -If I had the Chance-

                                             Kaitlyn and Brianna

                                                        o.0.o

Everyone knew about Kaitlyn and Brianna, their friendship.

They were the friends that did everything together, and practically lived at each others houses. The friends who went to school dances together, because why the hell not?

Kai and Bri, the revolutionary two.

The two best friends, in love with each other. How cliché.

But, they were graduating soon. Too soon. They wouldn't be given the chance to tell each other how they felt, and being apart from the other would be...so hard.

So she drove. Brianna drove to Kai's house at 11:14 at night to tell she loved her, so she could just get rejected.

But, it would be a weight off her shoulders...right?

When she pulled up into the driveway, she was tempted to pull back out.

What was even the point? There was absolutely know way that Kaitlyn felt the feeling Bri felt for her. If she did, she would have told her. She was incredibly outspoken and while it sometimes got her in trouble, it was better than Brianna's 'keep it all inside till it goes away' strategy.

The brunette gets out of the car anyways, breathing heavily as she walks up to large blue door. She stares at the designs on the door for a minute, before gaining the courage to knock on the door.

And, no. It wasn't odd that she was knocking on the front door of Kaitlyn's house so late at night. Her Dad was working a nightshift, and Kai is practically nocturnal. What's trying to be said, was that it was fine.

Brianna hears stomping from inside the house, obviously Kaitlyn running to the door. Her heart races, and she's shaking just a little.

The girl must have known it was her, somehow, because she opens the door, arms spread widely.

"Hey! What are yo doing here?" she said giving Brianna a large bear hug, her thick curls getting all in her face.

One of the things Bri loves about her, her excessive hugging.

The blonde smiles, "Oh, I was just walking around, and realized I was in the neighborhood! Decided to stop by." Of course she's going to put off her confession as much as possible.

Kaitlyn rolls her eyes, but she's smiling largely. "Huh, well, come in!"

She walks inside, leaving the door wide open for Brianna to walk in.

The house smells like the Scentsy warmer on the table next the the reclining chair, and the Ghibli studio's movie "Kiki's Delivery Service" is playing on the large tv.

They sit on the couch together, silently staring at the screen, until Kai looks over to Brianna.

"So...what's up?"

The blonde shrugs, trying to come across as chill, even though she knows Kaitlyn can tell somethings up. They had been best friends since Kinder-garden, and they told each other everything. There wasn't any "hey, I'm just going to pretend like that didn't happen," crap. They knew what each other was thinking before they thought it.

Or, maybe that wasn't completely true.

Brianna wants to run, a feeling she feels frequently. But, this isn't the time to be a coward like always. She has to finally step up. It's not like Kaitlyn would just shut her out for something like this. Thats not Kai.

"I- Um...need to talk to you about something."

The worry on Kai's face becomes more noticeable. She jumps up slightly, and reaches out for the other girls hands.

"What's wrong? Is it your Mom?"

Bri shakes her head, and continues to stare at the two intertwined pair of hands resting on a blanket in-between the girls. She hates how nervous she feels. Kai won't judge her for this, because she's just the same.

In freshman year Kai came out to her. She said she was Queer, but that was all she specified. That was three years ago.

But this isn't just, 'hey, I am not heater', this is 'I'm in love with you, bestie'.

As much as she doesn't want to tell her the way she feels, she has to.  Or else it would cause a rift in their relationship, and Brianna would much rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.

What do I say first, She thinks. "I'm gay", or "I love you".

Ugh, the struggles of Brianna, the anxious pansexual.

She looks up to Kai, telling herself it's okay over and over to make herself feel better.

C'mon, c'mon, work with me brain.

Kai is still looking at her intensely, and she squeezes her hand.

One.

Two.

Th-

"I'm like you."

God, of course she messes it up. She probably doesn't even understand what she said. Of course she mixes the two things she has to say. She's such a dumb-as-

Brianna's self-hate rant is interrupted by a strong embrace.

"Oh my God-"

Kaitlyns crying.

"I-I've wanted to tell you for a long time, it's just so confusing, and I kept doubting-"

"No, no, no, don't do that. It's okay, you took all the time you needed and that's perfect."

The blonde can't help but smile, and feel relieved, even though that was the easy part. Kaitlyn pulls away, smiling, ignoring the tears racing down her cheeks.

"I just- I came out to my sister a couple months ago, and she was a big supporter of coming out to you, and I knew you would accept me but..."

Kai looks confused now. "But, what? Is there something wrong? Did I-"

"I love you."

Her face blanks. Brianna reaches for one bit of courage from inside her, for just this once. She can't mess this up.

"So much. And- I don't expect you to feel the same. I don't want this to ruin our friendship, you mean more too me than anyone. I just didn't want a secret to tear us apart either."

Brianna silently stares at anything but Kai, waiting for a response. She tries to focus on the lint on the couch, or the names of books on the shelf in the room. It's silent.

She finally looks at Kaitlyn, and she realizes that she's smiling. A small, genuine smile that would be the kind to make her day a while lot brighter.

The brunette scoots closer to Bri, her smile only growing. She looks at her.

"I love you too."

Bri panics for a moment. "I meant the romantic kind. Like, I've had a massive crush on you for four years."

Kai nods, and reaches out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind the blonde's ear. "I know."

Brianna smiles widely, and starts laughing. Of relief, and happiness, and part disbelief. Kaitlyn grabs hold of her hand, with stops her giggles. "I'm gonna ask you something. It's sort of cliche, but-"

"Yes, you can kiss me."

Kai laughs, inching her head closer to Bri. "Oh? Getting a little bold, aren't we?"

"Well, if I can get Kaitlyn Rays to fall for me, surely I can do just about anything," Brianna says leaning in. "Huh." "Just, please kiss me now." "Gladly, miss." "Oh god."

They both lean in, and you knows what happens after that.

The kiss is sweet, and warm, and it’s anything Bri could have wanted. It’s not either of their first kisses, but it was the first that mattered. The first with someone they love.

"I'm so glad I told you."

"Me too."

                                                     o.0.o.0.o.0.o

This is the first one shot of my series I’m working on! It’s just a collection of one-shots of love in all it’s forms. The title is from Lizzy McAlpines “same boat”. Such a beautiful song.

Anyways, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!

Thanks for reading! You, are pretty cool.

-Of Dogs And Chocolate

[najatheangel]

Hii~ I'm here for a matchup request for NCT Dream and SuperM! I'm a 5'3, female she/her, my hobbies include writing and reading also drawing in my free time. I enjoy playing a bit of volleyball and badminton, I also play video games if I feel like it. I'm usually quiet when I'm in a place with people I don't know, but if I'm with friends I can get really loud. I dislike loud places/loud people, having to order for myself and country music~ I like cats more than dogs, I have like at least 1000 memes pics in my phone, and I really like watching studio Ghibli movies. As for appearance, I have medium dark brown with hints of red hair, chubby face but I lean in more with the skinny side for body type, I have bangs as well. Thank you ✨

Hello lovelie anon, you sound like an intresting person. Thanks fr or being so patient your ship is finally here...🌟⭐️

From Super M, I ship you with...Baekyun

Positive Side: You two deserve to be together. Baekyun is the type of person that stands out in any room and that can handle shy yet innocent personalities like yours. I feel like he would think it’s attractive, but he would eventually want you to reveal your true self, your silly, kind and creative side to him. He’s the kind of guy that would try anything sporty and creative. Your volleyball matches would be so intense, because he seems to be competitive and get excited when he plays against. Obviously you would win most of the matches, but when he won he would be screaming “In your face!” or “Yayy” lifting you up in the air and spinning you around kissing you. Same thing with video games, he would want a match with you every night for hours until he defeated you. When your out with each other’s friends as a group, you both make sure the other person is comfortable and stick close to each other no matter what. Him being the goofy man he is, he loves sending memes and even quoting them nonstop just to make you smile. Day by day regardless of how you were feeling, he would do anything to have you stick around.

Negative Side: He can also be a child at heart sometimes not knowing when to switch Baekyun the friend and Baekyun the boyfriend when he’s around you. He tends to be like this because he knew how long it was going to take to open up to you and accept him as a lover so he wanted to keeping treating you like a friend instead of trying to be your boyfriend. For example, when he thought about wrapping his arm around your shoulder he would hesitate and flinch when you turn around looking at him seeing what you were doing. He would even be careful of how he would try to kiss you, because he would think you wouldn’t like it and end up hating him for trying to pull a move on him. For awhile he kept his feelings to himself thinking you liked Kai.

But: Once you started to pick up how he was feeling about you, you’ve decided to drag him out on the most romantic date ever by confessing to him how you felt through your book of drawings of you and him together. The last picture showed the big question saying, Will you be my boyfriend? And he ran up towards you and shared the most romantic kiss together. “Starting today, I’m going to cherish you and keep you by my side no matter what. You got that?” He lifts his pinky up clenching it together. “Mhmm got it.” Giggles while kissing each other’s pinkies sealing the deal.

From Nct Dream, I ship you with...Chenle

Positive Side: The light of your life and your best friend. What made me match you up with him is his ability to help you open out of your shell and he’s fearless when it comes to trying new things. In a sense, he’s very talented in the arts of music mr piano man, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t enjoy creating cute drawings for you and reading your latest stories you were writing. I can imagine him trying to read it out loud teasing you and making you feel embarrassed when you make a spelling error, but he wouldn’t be that cruel and let it drag out to far. When going out on dates with him, he would help you order food for you if the waiter couldn’t here you. Sometimes he would just like cooking for you to save you the trouble of dealing with that. trust me girl I can relate, I hate ordering drive thrus and they mess up your order all because they couldn’t hear you. This man loves memes and would appreciate you sending him the funniest tweets or tik toks crying his eyes out. Lastly, he would love hyping you up every chance he gets. You two are two best friends that falls in love and living your happy young little couple lives sharing new experiences together.

Negative Side: It felt so comfortable for him to be best friends with you, but it took him a while to get used to becoming your boyfriend. It was like he didn’t know how to go his way about being romantic with you, because he’s still young and can be childish at times. For example, if you wanted to cuddle or try to cling onto him in front of the members, he would try to pretend to act aloof and not know how to approach the situation. He was so used to treating you like a friend that it’s hard for him to be romantic towards you, because it feels weird to him to start being more affectionate towards you. “Chenle you normally like it when I lay on you. Why are you being weird.” He starts to whine acting flustered. “Idk, I’m just not used to this yet. Why don’t we just play video games and pretend this never happened?” laughs awkwardly trying to wipe the sweat of his hands.

But...: Once he starts to feel more comfortable and confident about being close together with you then he would never stop clinging on to you. He loves you enough to boldly kiss you on the cheek, lean his head on your shoulder, scream at the top of his lungs how much he loves you and is not afraid of laughing so loudly with you. He does not care about anyone’s opinions on your relationship and doesn’t take any crap from anyone. “Y/n is my mine. Don’t touch her.” slaps the top of Mark’s hand while hugging you so tightly glaring at him. “I was just handing her the bracelet she dropped.”

This was a tough one because I feel like you also suit with renjun pretty well too, but Chenle just made more sense.

sparkly anon✨ thanks for requesting and I hope this somewhat made your day/night hun.

[poursomesugaronu2]

A Cup of Diamond Eyes - Chapter 4

((Enjoyed listening to Studio Ghibli music while writing this))

An hour spent playing music with Dan, and Phil popped his head in, telling the pair that dinner was almost ready. Pretending that he hadn't opened all the doors so that he could hear them from the kitchen.

Luciano was in a far better mood as he stood, taking the bass back to his bedroom. He was glad that it was so close. He returned it to the case where it would be safe and went back over to Dan, who was waiting for him.

"You still haven't played me something, Luci," Dan said with a little laugh.

Luciano grinned and sat up on Dan's lap again, thinking for a moment about what to play. He considered classical but decided against it, going for his real passion. He began to play a piano version of So What by Miles Davis. It was one of his favourite songs to play. He hummed another side tune as he played. It was one of the first jazz songs that his grandfather taught him how to play. It, of course, sounded much better with a big band. But Luciano had never minded how it sounded when played as a solo piano song. His nonno had played it for him a million and a half times when he was very young.

There were quite a few mistakes from lack of practice, but it wasn't awful. "Sorry, daddy. I haven't had a lot of practice." He confessed in a soft voice once he reached the solo, which he'd never been able to do properly. He had been learning quite a few pieces, and the memorization hadn't been easy. He looked up at Dan, who was smiling.

"You're very talented," He said with a smile. "I'm impressed. You're welcome to play my piano anytime you want. Except at 3 AM when I'm having an existential crisis."

"A what?" Luciano stared at him, confused as to what that meant.

"Maybe not something you should learn at this age... Shall we see what masterful daddy Philip has cooked for us?" Dan asked, to which Luciano nodded and climbed from Dan's lap.

With Luciano clinging to Dan's arm, they made their way to the kitchen where Phil was plating up something that he didn't recognise... By sight. But the smell was something that reminded him of home. "You made pasta?" He asked in surprise. Well, it wasn't quite the smell of Nonno's house, but he was grinning anyway. Close enough to home.

Phil nodded, smiling. "Spaghetti bolognese." He stated, setting the leftovers aside. The pair of them were so tall, it was still daunting to Luciano, but he didn't care that much. He was hungry. He took his plate with a gracious thank you, and the pair of them led Luciano over to a couch in front of the TV. He sat in between them, cross-legged with his plate in his lap. He bent his head down and quietly spoke a prayer of thanks for the food before taking in his first bite. Phil wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but after the food in the orphanage, it tasted like absolute heaven.

"It tastes so good, daddy..." He commented, watching the screen as Phil began to go through the movies they had.

"Luci, what's your favourite Disney movie?" Phil asked, looking over at him. Disney? He remembered Ally mentioning something about it, but he wasn't sure what it was.

"I'm not sure what Disney is?" He admitted after a long pause, which induced shocked sounds from both Dan and Phil.

"What? Phil! Lion King! Put it on now! You poor deprived child," Dan put his plate down in order to hug Luci from the side. He was just confused as to what all the fuss was about.

The trio quietened as Phil set the movie to play, dimming the lights enough so that they could see well enough to eat, but it was in 'cinema mode'.

It was Luciano's first movie. That occurred to him then. He sat there, eating his dinner as he watched the animated pictures move across the screen. By the time the elephant graveyard was on screen, he had finished as much as he could eat, setting the half-full plate down on the coffee table in front of them, which joined his parent's empty ones. He blushed at that. He stayed by himself until the stampede came through on screen. He could hear Dan beside him sniffling.

"Long live the king."

Tears slid down onto his cheeks and he felt warm arms wrap around him from his right. He leant against Dan's chest, clinging to his shirt tight. "Wh-Why is Scar s-so mean...?" He asked. "He k-killed Simba's dad... He hurt him..."

"I don't know... It's so mean of Scar, isn't it?" Dan muttered down to him.

Another layer of warmth came around the two in the comforting form of Phil's arms. He was the only one who wasn't crying, not like the two of them. He too felt the sadness of the scene, but he didn't seem to shed tears as easily. He hugged them both and let them cry.

Luciano was embarrassed, he knew that he went on crying for a lot longer. But with the dinner out of the way, he got to sit in Dan's lap right beside Phil, who had Dan's head on his shoulder. The movie continued, and Luciano got more excited, happy that Simba was gaining power and saving the pride. He was happy with the movie.

"That's amazing! That was such a good movie!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"I'm glad you like it because we might have to disown you if you didn't love lion king. Since Phil is the lion king." Dan said with a little laugh, turning his head to look at Phil, kissing his cheek. Luciano refused to look at that.

"Louise is coming over to drop off the books," Phil said, after a quick check of his phone.

Luciano huddled himself into Dan's chest, "Who's Louise?" He muttered, biting his lip.

"She's a friend of ours... She's lending us some books so we can help you learn to read." Dan explained with a smile, "You can thank Phil for that idea."

Luciano had to move into Phil's lap, hugging him tight. "Thanks, daddy..." He said.

"I'll do the dishes," Dan said, standing up from the couch, kissing both Luciano's and Phil's foreheads.

"This is so different from my old home..." He muttered, leaning against him. "Thank you... for being so kind and accepting and loving... I know God will have to accept you into heaven... And if he doesn't, I'll pray to him until he does!" He clung to Phil's shirt.

"Thank you, Luciano..." Phil had a little smile on his face. He was grateful for the sentiment, as he knew how much it meant to him, "Do you mind if I ask what your family was like? Mrs Pach was very vague about why you were there."

Luciano just nodded a little. "I was there because my family never picked me up from the hospital after my accident... They didn't want me. Compared to you and daddy... They were mean... Mama hated me for being different." He gestured to his skin and hair.

"Daddy and I will never hate you, I promise you that, Luciano. Being different is a good thing, something to be embraced. You're beautiful just the way you are. You're perfect just the way you are and nobody can tell you otherwise. Nobody. I don't see any imperfections when I look at you, Luciano. You're my child, our child." He looked in the direction of the kitchen.

Luciano was quiet for a long moment before he hugged closer to Phil than before, some tears slipping down his face. "I wish I could have been with you and daddy my whole life... You would've been nicer..." His little hands clutched the fabric of Phil's shirt tighter than before, his body trembling.

-

Phil rubbed his back, holding him close. He was so small, the size of someone much younger. Phil didn't have much experience with children, but he knew that Luciano was so much smaller than a child of his age. He didn't want to ask him further when it came to what his parents had done, but he could feel his ribs too easily. His child was underweight. What had his pare- No, his birth parents. Dan and Phil were his parents now... The others didn't deserve to be known as parents.

The pair had known it would be a lot of work when they decided to adopt an older child. But they had known that an older child was likely to stay in the system longer, as parents preferred to adopt much younger children... And children without disabilities. Sure, it was nice that Luciano was lucky enough to be able to wear glasses... Was that another thing that was his birth parents' fault? Or was is a true misdiagnosis. He had his suspicions. He kissed Luciano's forehead, glad that he seemed to be calming down.

The homophobia was something they'd have to deal with. When himself and Dan had spoken earlier, they had agreed that trying to make him switch away from his religion would be wrong... But they did need to teach him a few things. Dan going home in tears from Luciano's words wasn't something that they needed to repeat, or tell Luciano about. The homophobia that had come about once they made it known to the public had been quite bad for Dan.

They never made a 'coming out video'... It wasn't really their style. All it took was a goodnight kiss in a live stream followed by an 'I'll join you soon'. A simple way to tell people that yes, they were together and no, it wasn't that big of a deal. Of course, it ended up being one. But they didn't answer unnecessary questions. Still, the homophobia had Dan crying himself to sleep on more than one occasion, and he wasn't the only one to shed a tear. It had calmed down now, but hearing it from their own child was a hard blow.

Once Luciano was in his room, he had spoken to Dan. And he knew that another discussion would be going on later. He knew that even now, Dan would feel better once he knew that Luciano didn't want them to go to hell. Neither he nor Dan believed in it, but it was a sentiment that meant a lot to him.

"I love you, daddy..." Phil heard from Luciano. He smiled at that and kissed his forehead. "I love you too, Luci..." He said, noticing how tired he looked. "How about we get you in the shower and into your pyjamas so you can sleep? You've had such a big day, you need sleep, sweetie."

Luciano just nodded. Phil stood, carrying Luciano with him as he moved to Luciano's room. "Where did you put your pyjamas?" He asked, which resulted in Luciano pointing under his pillow. Phil had to smile at that and held them under one arm. These were the ones with the snake patterns on them. They had bought those and some unicorn ones. He held Luciano's hand and led him to the bathroom.

"To get the water warmer, you move it to the left, and colder to the right," Phil explained. "It's pretty simple. You can use this shampoo and conditioner for your hair, and there's some body-wash there too. You're free to use it, alright? We'll get you your own stuff later on." He pointed to the bottles, making sure Luciano took note of them. "Daddy and I will be just down the hall, and if you need anything, just yell out, okay?"

Luciano nodded, swallowing as he looked at the bottles. "Shampoo for my hair, conditioner for my hair... Okay." He nodded.

Phil kissed his forehead, "Just a little yell away." He said before leaving the bathroom and closing the door, heading down to the lounge and going on his phone. Dan joined him after a few moments. "How is he doing?" He asked, sitting next to Phil, looking over at him.

"He was looking tired... He's taking a shower, then he'll be in bed. He's had a big day," Phil smiled, shifting to wrap his arm around Dan, "Isn't it strange? We're parents now."

"I didn't expect this when I sent you that message, Phil. We've come so far... In our career... In our relationship."

The feeling of nostalgia was almost physical between them. So much that they'd done together. So much achievement. They thought together of the things that they had accomplished, looking into each other's eyes. They were powerful together, and they knew it. The long silence between them wasn't awkward.

It was like some people had said, they seemed to communicate in a way that was less than normal. A conversation with their eyes, if you will. Phil soon shifted, resting his head on Dan's shoulder.

"I could look into your eyes forever, Phil," Dan muttered, kissing down Phil's cheek and to his mouth, holding him in a chaste kiss for no longer than a short moment.

"I love you," Phil whispered in Dan's ear, "And I'm glad I can spend the rest of my life with you."

Dan turned to look into Phil's eyes, "You're more brilliant than anyone gives you credit for, Phil Howell-Lester. I love you too."

"My name sounds so much better with Howell in it."

"And yours sounds better with Lester in it."

The pair laughed before they were interrupted by the doorbell.

"I'll get it," Phil pecked Dan's cheek, standing and smiling, heading down to the front door to let Louise in.

Not a moment after Phil left, there was a call from the bathroom. "Daddy!"

Dan stood, heading to the bathroom, knocking on the door, "Luciano, are you alright?"

"Uh... I just need... Some help..." Luciano said, only just loud enough to be audible.

Dan opened the door and slipped inside, seeing that Luciano was on the floor, so far only wearing his pyjama pants. He knelt down beside him, "What happened, Luci? Are you alright?"

Luciano nodded, biting his lip, "Um... I just fell... And I can't get back up." He said. He had been taught from a young age not to complain, so he didn't mention the pain in his leg.

"Are you hurt?"

Luciano shook his head, "Nothing bad."

Dan's hands made their way to Luciano's sides and he lifted him, taking as much care as he could, setting him back down on his feet.

Luciano slipped a little,  but settled, letting Dan help him with the pyjama top. He turned to look in the mirror, studying his features. "S'weird to see myself... Never seen myself properly before," He muttered, turning away, not wanting to look for too long. It was too strange.

Dan smiled, "You're very pretty, Luciano. I'm glad that you were able to see everything today."

Luciano blushed, nodding as he moved to hug Dan by his leg.

"Do you want to come and meet Louise?" Dan asked, smiling down at his child. Being a parent was still surreal to him.

"Will you carry me?" Luciano asked, smiling a toothy grin up at Dan.

He couldn't resist that face. Dan reached down and picked him up, surprised by how light he was, but made no comment. He carried him through to the lounge, seeing Louise and Phil sitting on the couch. Luciano blushed, pushing his face against Dan's shoulder out of nervousness.

Dan sat, letting Luciano stay in his lap. "Hey, Louise... My awkward buddy." He chuckled, "He's inherited my awkwardness."

Luciano looked up, waving at Louise. The woman in front of him was a little larger, but pretty. Blonde hair in a ponytail. "H-Hello, ma'am." He wasn't sure where the nervousness had come from, but it didn't negate it's existence.

"Hi, Luci! You can call me Auntie Louise," Louise smiled and extended a hand to shake, "Can I just say that I love your hair?"

Luciano shook it, smiling a little, "Th-Thank you, um... Auntie Louise." He bit his lip hard, remembering what his aunt back at home had done. He pressed himself close to Dan, holding onto Dan's shirt. A yawn followed, leading Dan to believe that he was just tired.

Dan leaned down to kiss Luciano's forehead, "Someone's needs bed I think." He said, smiling at the other two, "How about I tell you a story and you get so sleep?"

Luciano just nodded against Dan's chest. Dan stood once again to take him to bed, letting Phil give him a kiss on the forehead. "I'll come and say goodnight soon," He said with a smile.

Dan nodded and took Luciano to bed.

"How's it been so far?" Louise asked, looking towards Phil, intrigued, "Being new parents and all, I should hope that I can be at least a little bit of help for you." She was a mother of two, so it was logical that she would have some assistance. Though she hadn't had an eleven year old, as Darcy was only six.

"It's been... Interesting," Phil made sure that he heard the footsteps up the stairs go before he spoke again. "He was raised as a Catholic. Or a Christian, I'm not sure... He had a bad reaction when he put the glasses on and found out that Dan was not a female, as he had thought. Uh... He said that we were sinners and Dan had to go home because he was upset... Reminded him of last year."

Louise gave a surprised nod, "Ah... That's difficult. They seem to be getting on very well now, what changed?"

Phil's frown turned to a smile almost instantaneously, "Well, I spoke to Dan while Luci put his clothes away. And after that chat, Dan ended up playing music with Luci. He plays double bass, and I ended up buying him one at the music shop today. Did you see the post I put on Instagram of them?"

Louise took out her phone to look, smiling, "I suppose it's true then. Music does bond people together."

"He spoke to me earlier, saying that he knows that being homosexual is something that can be forgiven, and he hopes that God will forgive us. I thought it was very sweet. He was abandoned by his family... I think what he lets off is that they weren't too bad, but they seem like awful people, Lou. I'm not sure how to bring up the topic without upsetting him."

"My suggestion would be to be incredibly careful about it. Maybe not yet, let him settle in first, I suppose. Have you thought about school?"

Phil nodded, "Dan and I did our research, you know how bad public schools can be... We're thinking of trying a mix of online schooling and this thing called unschooling. So he'll take the main courses online, but he'll also be able to do things that will help him in the real world. I'm glad we don't officially have to worry about that for another month."

"That fits you two, y'know? Having online schooling. But it makes absolute sense. Public schooling may not be the best place for him... How old did you say he is? He doesn't look much older than Darcy."

"He's eleven... I think that's his birth parents' fault. Malnutrition. When I was holding him earlier, I could feel his ribs... I know that isn't normal. We're going to book in a doctor's appointment as soon as possible because I'm worried."

Louise nodded in understanding, standing up, "Of course. Well, if you don't mind, I'll leave you be. I'd better head home. I'll need those books back eventually, but you're free to use them while he's learning."

Phil smiled and stood up, hugging her before leading her down to the front door. "You're an absolute gem, Louise. A sprinkle of glitter." He attempted a wink, which more of a blink, before grinning.

"You are the pun master." Louise said, chuckling before she left, "See you later!"

Phil waved before heading back inside and upstairs. He went to Luciano's room, peeking in the doorway. He expected to see Dan with some form of book, but he was sitting there, Luciano in his lap, pale blue eyes gazing up at Dan in admiration as he told a story of an albino princess that made everyone in the kingdom happy. He didn't make any move to interrupt, watching from the doorway.

As Dan's story continued, he didn't seem to notice Luciano falling asleep in his arms. Phil approached, leaning in next to Dan, "And the princess fell asleep..." He whispered.

Dan looked up in surprise, his smile clear on his face, observing Phil's face. "Pull the blankets back?" He said with a smile, clear intentions to tuck Luciano in.

Phil pulled back the covers, allowing Dan to set Luciano down, kissing his forehead before grabbing his lion and slipping it in next to him. Luciano's body shifted naturally, settling once Phil laid the blanket over him.

"Goodnight," Phil said, kissing Luciano's forehead softly. Dan did the same, kissing Luciano's forehead once more.

The pair grasped hands before leaving the room and heading to their own. Quiet discussion ensued, before they too slept only two hours following Luciano. Night owls as they usually were, the day had been long. They were ready for sleep.