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caius-hhhhhh · 3 months

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following up on this fanfic emoji ask game: I know this is not the general convention but i tend to like responding to an ask game all at once rather than waiting for prompts. so I’ve just answered every single one of the questions below the cut. Again, if you wanna play or use the game for your own purposes, please do! you don’t have to repeat my strategy, although you’re free to do so too.

i was about to say “this is a bunch of autofellating nonsense” but that’s the point. who cares. i wrote a lot about disability. if your mental illness also significantly impacts your ability to write, this might be triggering.

I’m still a baby ao3 user (@ is spitemonger) with only one published fic (it’s Zutara. It’s not that I’m not proud of it but I wrote it on a deadline and thus spent a lot of the creative process going “i don’t want to i don’t want to”). but a) I have generally been writing since I was a teenager, and b) I want to write more and publish more.

So I’ll be mostly referring to unpublished wips, with a primary focus on a long-form one-sided radiostatic fic covering Vox’s fall to Stayed Gone, and a minor focus on two shelved Magnus Chase (PJO spin-off) fics, one for Fierrochase and one for Blitzstone. [if you haven’t read Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgaard get the fuck on it, there’s a genderfluid character]

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

my entire trunk novel? If I’m embarrassed by a scene I delete it during edits. So the only thing I’m even minorly embarrassed by is the fandom-specific plot I wrote by the seat of my pants (Magnus goes to Camp Half-Blood) — I’ll get more into that in a later question

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

love that this emoji doesn’t fucking register on my computer. I’ve never thought about this before! It’s hard for my own writing to get me emotional, I tend to look at it so clinically and dispassionately I kind of get caught off-guard when people say an emotional moment hit them. I do get very easily fucked by other people’s writing about transness. No prizes for guessing why, characters exploring their own gender and other people telling them they see them as their proper gender always get me feeling some type of way. calam4r1’s comic about Alastor’s “what have you done to me” makes my heart EXPLODE

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I am exceedingly proud of this Cave Johnson-ass line: “All projects, collaborations, products, and endorsements featuring or even vaguely mentioning that crimson ass’s likeness are to be liquidated. And burned. In fact, trap and seal the gases from the fire, freeze them back into liquid, and then burn them again.”

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Oh fuck yes. It is a major twist that I’d be stupid to spoil, but! There is a red herring at the start of my current fic that you don’t get resolution for until three-quarters of the way through. It involves Vox’s real name.

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

My close associate SpaceWall is a fan-fucking-tasting editor who understands my need for my writing to be completely eviscerated. She has the balls to tell me when I’ve got a shite idea, and I could not ask for a better editor. Go fucking read her fics and tell her she’s excellent. On the subject, I really like editing and am fully open to reading your work. I’ve a slightly longer post about it here but please reach out to me if you’d like me to look at anything you have.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Disability. It’s well and truly quite hard to find a story that doesn’t deal with disability — hell, it’s hard to find a human that doesn’t have a relationship with disability — but it’s something canon so frequently either tacitly ignores or doesn’t pick up on. If I’m going to do anything in a fic, it’s explicate the characters’ canon disabilities or headcanon new ones. This is my favourite part of Cold Bodies btw, and basically the only part I wrote without explicit prompting. It’s in the last subsection if you don’t want to read the 8k words of prep

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

idk man I’m really bad at pacing so even if the content is whack I go about it too slowly to really shock anyone

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

fuck off.

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

Love the implication that I don’t fall asleep every night fantasising about a thousand different first kiss scenarios.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I’m very picky when it comes to listening to music while I write. I can’t think about words if the song I’m listening to also has words, nor if it has a really tangible melody that I want to follow along with. So I need really slow, atmospheric music without a real tune. Undertale genocide themes are actually fucking excellent for this, I’d highly recommend them. I’ve created a massive fuck-off OSRS playlist (on itunes, not spotify, so I can’t share it, sorry) basically comprised of the entire Portal 2 soundtrack (special fucking shoutout to The Friendly Faith Plate, which is SO VOX CODED YOU DON’T HAVE ANY IDEAAAA) and Sim Gretina’s electro swing (Enemy Like Me is my favourite), plus Kira’s Piece of Art and Dua Saleh’s mOth. The first because it’s giving Vox’s obsession with Alastor, and the second because, duh.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

I’m a google docs hoe. I know I shouldn’t be, but fuck man, I know how it works. It feels natural when my writing is on there. I’ve tried Scrivener and it made me angry. What the fuck ever And “tools”, that’s really funny — I’m the type of grad student that does all my citations manually because switching to Zotero is weird and scary. I know how to do it manually! Why would I ever accept help for something I know how to do?? (< ocpd symptom)

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

The world doesn’t fucking need any more Nico di Angelo fics. It really doesn’t. There’s plenty. He’s a skinny white boy, he’s got the entire internet in the palm of his hand. You wanna compete with Robin? Really? You wanna do that to yourself? I don’t even have catholic guilt, I’ve got nothing to add

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

SpaceWall and I are irl friends, but we hold each other’s secrets in equal regard. The secret is that she is a good writer and I’m a poet I wouldn’t actually mind if people I knew irl found and read my fics. It’s just writing. I don’t find anything to object in it, and in fact I’d like it if I could talk about Hazbin with other people irl. I would hate it if people I know irl found my tumblr, but that’s principally because I’m significantly more open about my ocpd here. I’m not a person on the internet, I’m just words and a drawing. You haven’t seen the kinds of fucked up shit I do in front of my peers that would suddenly Make A Lot Of Sense if they knew I had a FUCKING personality disorder.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

The Blitzstone origin wip, which is mostly “ostracised gay dwarf learns ASL because he saved this dying elf’s life”. come to think of it the first chapter of that fic is technically perfect and there’s very little stopping me from putting it the fuck on ao3 and abandoning it for three years before coming back. huh. i might… just do that.

🍷 Do you drink and write?

Always. It turns the judgemental part of my brain off and I have a much easier time making things and getting ideas down. Such a shame I don’t smoke too! I’ve tried writing whilst high and it was not writing. It was in fact lying back and rereading 666

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

“the spicy stuffs” porn is the word you’re looking for. You can say it. It’s four letters. The internet police won’t get you. See look, porn porn sex penis tits ass fucking Writing erotica was a really instrumental part of unlearning the self-destructive writing habits that made me suicidal scrap my original work. My initial intention was that because it’s erotica, it’s not for other people: it’s for me. And having that barrier of “this is not for other people to see” was liberating and necessary — I turned it off eventually, because erotica is not something to be so ashamed of that no eyes but yours can look upon it — but I needed to force myself to write something that I couldn’t imagine being scrutinised and therefore needed to be Purposeful and Say Something.

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

11pm–2am is when I get my best work done. Unfortunately, I write the most frequently between 1–3pm because I have the energy and motivation to, but those are Self Doubt Hours and I have a hard time getting into the swing of things I actually have the best writing luck when I get up early but that’s not gonna fucking happen

💖 What made you start writing?

In general, pathology, but I’ve kind of made that clear already. What made me want to write a Hazbin fic was seeing how exceptionally creative this fandom is and how much fun people seemed to be having sharing their ideas. I feel like in the circles I’m running in, there’s not a lot of pressure to make Good Art, and it’s… not really a big deal if your work gets a lot of attention or not. Everyone seems to be getting the same tone of feedback, all cheer and encouragement, and the vibe to me seems really casual and fun. I’m not thinking to myself “how will I compete with these other authors”, but “I wonder if the user I idolise will see and like my work”. And the answer is often yes. It’s not just that people are creating and playing so freely, it’s that it feels like a lot of us are here to support one another, and that’s been really reassuring. Because I feel like people will like anything I put out

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I was about to say “anything related to pregnancy, thinking about my uterus makes me nauseous” but I uh. Wrote about a miscarriage. So I guess writing about a wanted pregnancy is the real limit

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

This is a super interesting question I haven’t seen spoken about very widely: it is considered extremely normal to commission fanart, but whenever the subject comes up, people seem incredibly reticent to ever commission fanfiction. I’m not fully sure why — in principle, it seems like there should be no real distinction in paying for fanart versus paying for fanfic. They’re both derivative work, they’re both made by enthusiastic artists who deserve to be compensated for their thousands of hours of expertise. I’m not certain what causes the disconnect. I have seriously toyed with the idea of doing podfics for money. I am in fact a professionally trained actor, and I own a USB microphone; which puts me ahead of like 50% of all of AO3’s userbase. Not sure if I’d fully commit to the idea because it’s still rather contentious. Were I to read my entire fic out loud I would put it behind a patreon though. It is in fact a very labour-intensive process, and again, I do have professional training.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Hoo boy.

this is my fic folder. For most fics I write, I have a draft document and a research document: I’ve colour-coded the related documents: so dark green and dark green are the draft and research, pink and pink are both parts of the same project, etc. Let’s compare the word count in each of these draft documents and research documents, shall we? The dark green draft is 8k; its research document is 16k. The pink document is Cold Bodies. Including the html coding and my author’s notes, it’s edging on 13k. Its research document is 8k. It’s the only fic I’ve completed. The light purple draft is 21.5k. Its research is 96k! The light green draft rather conspicuously titled “botw script” is in fact a script, not prose, so it’s only about 4k. Its research, which is in fact titled “I don’t like botw’s story”, is 25k. The dark purple draft is a rather tragic 6k. Its two research documents are a combined 104k!!! One of the documents is called, rather tellingly, “I think I like research more than I like writing.”

My research process involves a not insignificant amount of textual analysis. For Cold Bodies, it looked something like this:

I haven’t done a lot of that kind of work for Hazbin because most info is fanon or only vaguely canon-adjacent, but I have compiled a list of headcanons many of you have put out into the world.

that’s gabrielsbubblegumbitch’s post and soot-and-salt’s And Not From Head To Toe. The other significant form of research I do is scour books I think are interesting or relevant so I can take plot or thematic inspiration from them. Previously, I’ve combed through Creating A Champion (and cannot recommend the experience. it’s kind of racist 😬) and made a fic a loose parody of Emma so I could fall back on its plot when I needed inspiration. For this Vox fic I’m rereading David Sedaris’ When You Are Engulfed in Flames, Eden Robinson’s Traplines (the last short story has a Monkey Beach spoiler, read that first), Catcher in the Rye, The Chocolate War, and, for some reason, Cary Elwes’ As You Wish.

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

Only got one. Shoutout to grownupchangeling for fucking SPRINTING into my inbox to ask for the answer to this question, really admire their(?) tenacity and dedication to squatting in my notifs like a spider in the corner

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Never really crossed my mind. I do like a good beach fic, and anything set in winter makes me happy, but I’m not a massive holiday story enjoyer.

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

I spoke about this a bit in response to soot, but if your readers are able to accurately guess a plot point or twist it means you have done it successfully. It means you have given your readers the tools to reach the same conclusion you did: and those tools are foreshadowing, atmosphere, subtext, and tension. Those are how a twist or beat feel that they belong in the narrative, because they gel with everything that has come before it. It in fact should be the author’s goal for readers to be able to guess the twist! It’s not that it should be blindingly obvious, but more that a seed should exist somewhere that smart readers (which are all readers!) should be able to see it and notice when it takes root.

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

Who doesn’t like fan art? Who’s the fucking Anne Rice of AO3 that’s going to be like “you may read my fic but do Not make art inspired by mine” literally who does that

📈 How many fics do you have?

Guess.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

I outline wherever possible. How detailed the outline is depends on the scene rather than the fic: “Vox goes house hunting” is in fact a very very long scene and a scene that amounts to two pages might well be described beat-by-beat in the outline. Pants-writing gets me incredibly stressed out because I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know where I’m going, I have no direction in mind, and because of that panic impulse I cannot be open to serendipity. It’s also really hard for me to do complete rewrites, so as soon as I have something down on the page and it’s made it past the first, worst, round of excruciating edits it tends to remain as-is in the final draft. So I often need at least a vague idea of what’s going to happen before I can start my work. I don’t do drafts, inasmuch as I’ve used that word pretty consistently throughout this post. I think. I think, think, think, research, ruminate, think, tentatively write less than 100 words, think think think consider scrapping the whole thing and then I detonate like a firework and the vast majority of the ink that first splatters on the page in that initial explosion stays until I know it’s done. I write like a shotgun: with a very intensive buildup and lots of preparation with a very short but very powerful discharge. I’ve told this to people and received the kind of expression you typically only get were you to remove your shoes and begin licking the sole of your foot. So please do not compare your own writing process with mine. Okay? This is not normal. I don’t know how often I’ve mentioned this but I have a disorder. No one but me does this. You should not expect yourself to.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

No <3

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I am literally the last person you should ask. Never pour water on a grease fire? Your face mask should completely cover your mouth and nose? Always make sure the base is larger than the widest point?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

I don’t actually find that there’s a single character who brings me comfort to write about. I write about someone if I have something to say about them. I do have a comfort trope, which is sleeping together.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

I think that Valentino used to be a porn actor before he became a director. During a shoot, he would wear an earpiece so his director could feed him lines, given that he couldn’t read the scripts.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Alastor! I also talk breezily and with an emphasis on slightly elevated language, so I find his dialogue to be incredibly natural to spit out. Plus, who doesn’t love dated exclamations and turns of phrase like “By Jove!” and “take a powder”?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

I well and truly don’t care. I don’t publish anything I’m ashamed of. I only publish things that I think showcase my skills, and that I think are worthwhile pieces of art. And if I had a friend who thought fanfiction or erotica was something to shame or scorn, well, they would not be my friend.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Finishing it.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Romantic partners becoming the main character’s therapists… I mean, that’s one of the great things about writing villain protagonists. They don’t fucking have to go to therapy.

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

Buckle up, cunt. I had a novel I was working on as a teenager. It was about toxic masculinity and MLM sexual assault. I said to myself, this will be a piece of art that defines a generation. It will say something that our (western) society desperately needs to hear, and one day a young gay kid just like myself will be tilting their head at a 90° angle to see the titles of the books lining the shelves of their local bookstore, see my novel, pick it up, and discover that it spoke to them: in the same way that I felt seen and heard by the books I loved. So as I wrote and worked on it, I often looked at my own writing with the harsh and uncaring eyes I knew it would be faced with when I inevitably contacted an editor. I wanted to make it flawless, bulletproof, do everything in my power to make this work perfect before an editor could see it, so that way I could wholeheartedly say that it was ready for other eyes. So nothing was perfect. Every part of it wasn’t good enough, fix it, FIX IT, I know you can do better so stop acting like THIS is the best you can accomplish. Come on, pick yourself up and do it right this time. And I tortured myself with that. To this day I cannot look at my draft without thinking of all the mistakes I made, what needed to be improved, what still needs to be improved, and after I’ve grown more and gotten diagnosed and met with people who have been published — met publishers — I know that I can’t trust myself enough to let this become a career. Do you know how hard writing this post has been? Did you know it’s taken me two days? Did you know how long I leave my posts in the drafts for, rereading, rereading, rereading, making sure there’s no chance this can be fucked up in any way, that it is totally within my control? I cannot become a professional writer. It’s my disability.

so, you know. rock make stick hit hard on head, cock make dick real hard in bed

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

A lustrum.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

B-plots! I kind of get regular plotting, in that I know how to build and resolve tension, but I am so bad at finding other things for the characters to DO in order to take a break from the main plot. I already worked so hard to make a main plot, you want me to do another one??? To say what? I did everything I wanted to, I tied it all in a neat bow, if the readers want a break from the main tension why can’t they just tab out

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

I love trans Vox, but in order for him to be in character he has to hate being trans. I’m really used to writing about trans joy, for my own health and for everyone else’s, so writing a character that wishes they weren’t trans is really sad.

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

I actually love criticism. Your work can only get better through education, and one of the easiest ways to get education is by having another person read your work and tell you something about it you didn’t know. I need other perspectives because my own perception of my writing is exhaustive and exhausting: I feel like I’ve done everything I can to improve my work and I am so tired of looking at it that I need a fresh pair of eyes to show me something I’d not found. Getting better is always something to strive for; and even in mean comments it is entirely possible to find the thread of a lesson. More often than not it’s a threat of a lesson, but personally, I take what I can get. Criticism is something I find easy to receive because I can turn it into something productive, either “okay, this is something I need to improve upon, let’s do that” or “this is so clearly in bad faith it is costing me nothing to ignore it”. It’s something I can easily take control of. It’s positive comments that feel like apple-bobbing in a tub full of syringes.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

#Psychological Horror immediately followed by #Eventual Smut. One of my favourite tag jokes I’ve written is #falling in love, #unrequited love, #friends to enemies, #on-again off-again relationship, #don’t date your coworkers holy shit don’t do it. And you really can’t go wrong with Cold Bodies’

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I suppose I’m kind of asking for it at this point.

I’ve left this one for last so it will have the best dramatic impact. Thank you, heartily, for sorting through that much shit!! I hope this is a worthwhile reward for your efforts.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

The shadows lengthen. The room is small, bereft of light; the darkness has plenty of recesses to establish itself within. His chest distends and recedes with a languid, heavy pulse: good. He will not wake. He dares not take a step. He contorts with the gloaming, letting it carry his weight like waves on the wine-dark sea. Ink creeping along the fractal contours of incautious skin, on paper pulp. The blanket is drawn too far up his shoulder, but his hands have wisely ventured away from its grasp. He has nestled them close to his face: the right palm faces the ceiling. His overgrown claws, weightless, curl around the soundless air. The cuffs of his shirt have drawn back to reveal the skin on his left wrist. He casts a faint but adequate illumination. Regrettably — he discovers — he has not flesh but casing. Whether it be titanium or catalin, it protects the veins underneath. What seams it must possess, he cannot access at present. He cannot smell his blood. Only the hot hiss of his breath, of bertholite and alkaloids. Experience has had the good grace to train him to anticipate the worst-case scenario. Thus, he suspects his knife would dent upon contact with his skin. This would likely require blunt force, something messy and more out of his weight class. Which is unideal: his own strength is formidable, naturally, but imprecise. And somewhat unsubtle. He sees the power buzzing underneath his grip. A live wire ready to snatch at the first hint of energy, snapping, sparking, antsy and unfulfilled. He likely isn’t trained enough to feel it himself, but again, the danger is too tangible to risk tripping over it. Were he more experienced, older, had experimented enough to test his limits, it would be a safer estimate; but as he is now, untapped and spring-loaded — fisticuffs would result in a significantly less assured victory. It is not a lack of confidence. It is simply a risky bet he does not want to get caught foolishly trusting himself with. That is smarts, not sheepishness. He does not hiss aloud. Nor does he retreat: he takes stock. The room offers little relevant information. His possessions are scarce, no letter drafts upon the writing desk, no bandages or weapons. His wallet is useless. He’s laid out nicotine patches and topical creams upon his toilet table: an invasome, it seems, may be a possibility. Unfortunately, he would have to synthesize it himself. He despises inconclusiveness. He returns his gaze to the picture box, his screen dim and vacuous. Loathed as he is to admit, this may be a somewhat longer project than he had initially envisioned. More’s the pity — what a spectacular send-off he would have been able to provide! Keep your chin up, now, old boy. This was hardly a trip for biscuits. It was, however, strike two.

#um jamma lamy #long post #like… really long #might make minor edits post publication but you’d probably have to be… me to notice #queuing because i don’t wanna be awake when it publishes #writing miasma

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milhoutvanhousen · 3 months

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Hi! I'm just crossposting from AO3 (I'll leave a link below if you prefer to read there). Left in the original AN just to really hammer in that this fic (read: all my fics) is not edited much lmao. Just a little short guy from ItaSaku week that I have...vague intentions to continue...the next chapter is half written and I am really trying to actively get back into writing so....we'll see no promises k bye!

Hiiii okay so, Bad start to #itasakuweek2023 because I thought today was the 21st and not the 22nd whoops. Fair warning, I doubt I will post any of these on time, lets be real. As for “these”, my thought process was to just write without planning (lol) the first chapter of something for each prompt, rather than a true one shot, and continue whichever one people liked/whichever one I actually like writing and have more ideas for. These are in no way refined, or fleshed out, sooooo you get what you get! I haven’t written in a long time and struggled so hard with past/present/whatever tense, please go easy on me or feel free to beta, I heard it’s so much fun! lmfao okay byeeeee luv u

Sakura had never felt her face drop so quickly. She was sure that if she could see herself, she would probably laugh. Sat in the coffee shop across from the university at this moment, however, she was definitely not laughing.

“Sorry...what?” Her shocked eyes blinked exactly once as the words forced themselves out.

Sasuke’s eyes rolled and she heard him suck at his teeth, she loathed that sound from him in particular. The quiet “tsk” sound could wind her up faster than him and Naruto trying to choose what to have for dinner.

“Sakura what was I supposed to do?” His eyes met her own again, but only for a moment, they drifted off to the side as he continued. “You know I couldn’t turn down the job, my father put in a good word for me and you know how he is. Besides, you know he’s driving me crazy right now and I just need to get some space.” She scrunched her face. Another blink to stop herself from tearing up. Why did she have to feel so many feelings? Didn’t she get to be blind to some of them like the boys were? How unfair

Two more years of medical school left. It was April, and her and Sasuke had been in the process of finding a new place to stay. The three of them had decided that they would rent a house together to get some space from their families before they started at Konoha University. Sasukes parents had been...not necessarily easy going about things, but they hadn’t fought him too much about it in the end. To her surprise, they had been more at ease when they found out that Sakura would be joining and not leaving Sasuke alone with Naruto.

Well, two years had passed and nobody had died, thank god. Naruto however, had announced right after their second Christmas together that this semester would be his last staying in the three bedroom house they rented. He had finally decided to move in with Hinata. Honestly, she didn’t know who was more nervous between the two of them, both friends had their moments of panic with Sakura in private, it made her laugh when she thought about how perfect they were for each other.

And so, she and Sasuke had set out to find a two bedroom as they didn’t want to share with anybody else, but couldn’t afford to stay in the larger rental without a third. They had found a nice apartment a little further away than their current place, but still within walking distance of the Uni, a requirement on Sakura’s end. Until Sasuke had to open his dumb mouth and put a wrench in their plans. How did somebody who talked so little cause so much damage when he chose to open his mouth, where had he been getting the practice?

“Weeell, to be fair this feels pretty spontaneous on my end, you literally never told to me about any of this. You know I understand with your dad but...you also know I cant afford this place on my own, what are we supposed to do, the lease is already signed and move in is only two weeks away! What the hell Sasuke, you’re seriously stressing me out!” And he was. She had finals soon to worry about, and she hadn’t lined up a summer job yet either. Not to mention that Ino wouldnt get off her back about finding a summer romance...get real. She could think of literally ten million things more important . A flick on the forehead snapped her out of her spiral.

“Relax, Itachi will move in.” Ah, he was back to Sasuke Light(TM), full dialogue not included.

“I obviously want more information than that, get real pal.” It was her turn to roll her eyes. He loved to bait her, just to be a dick, she was sure.

“He’s back in town next month from Suna, you know how easy going he is.” She did not. Itachi...she didn’t know too much about him at all to be honest. They had of course met a few times, she had known Sasuke since she was 12, going on almost 10 years now.

While her and Naruto didn’t end up at the Uchiha house super often, they spent a guaranteed four dinners there every year. Sasuke’s birthday (of course) as well as Naruto’s, Mikoto’s (She loved throwing large parties but her birthday was the only event Fugaku allowed her to get a little crazy...so she did), and every year without fail, they also gathered to celebrate the new year. Sakuras birthday was excluded, but only because she preferred to spend it alone and everyone had (finally) accepted that. It took a few years of arguments with the boys and hushed conversations with Mikoto, but everyone caved eventually. Sakura gave a mean puppy dog face.

She shook her head lightly, she was distracting herself again.

“Fine Sasuke, there’s not much I can do about it now I guess. Can you at least pass on my number so we can text and figure some things out?” What she really wanted to know was if he would be replacing their old ratty couch with one of his own, she was dreading buying a new one and she might as well be hopeful about the situation. He smirked, probably thinking the same thing, and gave her a mock salute as he walked away.

“Everything will be fine Sakura, I’ll see you later.” She pouted into her coffee, he didn’t know that. He couldn’t know that. Her phone buzzed.

It’s Itachi. Thanks for indulging my little brother. I know you probably aren’t thrilled about things but I hope we can help each other out in the coming year.

She hummed to herself. Realistically, Itachi wasn’t the worst option. In fact, compared to Sasuke directly, maybe it would be a more relaxed year in the home area, Sasuke definitely had a party boy reputation and often made it his roommates problem. Settling on cheering up, she messaged back.

Thanks for saving me this year, I’m sure having a roommate wasn’t in your plans but I promise all I do is study and have the occasional cry of either frustration or despair, normal med student things really. Do you want to arrange a time to see the place? I get keys in a week and we can move stuff in as early as the week after.

After stuffing her phone in her bag, she slammed back the rest of her coffee and tidied up the dishes she had. No point stressing herself out more than she needed to, she supposed. She wouldn’t have to pay rent alone, and hey, maybe she’d get a new couch out of it.

When she got back to the apartment, she screamed into her pillow for a solid minute. Cheerfully.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

When she woke up way later in the evening than intended after she fell asleep watching tv, it was due to hunger. She groaned as she pulled the blankets over her head, and not quietly. The natural consequence of course, was that Naruto barged into her room, acting as if he had never heard this specific cry before (he had).

“Uhhh....you good in here Sakura?” She responded with a mumble but got up regardless.

“Yeah Naruto, I’m good. Hey, are you here long enough for dinner? I fell asleep and I’m starving.” Before Hinata was in the picture it was always a yes, but the ol’ lug had grown up and actually prioritized things now, it was touching to see.

“Ahh I’m sorry Sakura, I’m just grabbing some stuff and then me and Hinata are going to see a movie, if you want to join I’m sure she wouldn’t mind though!” And she wouldnt, but third wheeling wasn’t in the plans for the night.

“Nah, go on without me, I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll probably go grab some tempura or something quick and then head back here anyway. Say hi to Hina for me though!” He grinned and gave a wave, leaving and walking so loudly to his room. It would have impressed her if she could forget how much it annoyed her first.

After he left she decided to sprawl out on her bed for juuust a few more minutes before committing to getting up and ready to leave the house. While she didn’t have groceries and wasn’t in the mood to go get some, she did have coupons for the tempura place down the street, so that settled things.

She took her sweet time getting out the door and eventually walked to the little stand around 11. End of the semester could be stressful but she had already dealt with pretty much everything that she technically needed to so...why not have a late night out? Dressed in Sasukes old soccer joggers and a tank top she sat down and greeted the owner Daiki, who waved at her and asked if she wanted the regular. She grinned and nodded while passing the coupon over the counter. Nothing made her feel better than food, guaranteed, every time. While she waited she browsed her phone, liking photos on Instagram and generally trying to keep busy so she didn’t feel too awkward sitting by herself.

But soon, the glorious moment came. Daiki set down her favourite food in the whole world. She picked up the shrimp tempura, dunked it in the sauce and got ready to take a (massive) bite. She closed her eyes and - heard laughter. Laughter right next to her.

Popping an eye open she looked to her right. Lo and behold, there sat Itachi, hand over his mouth as he laughed. At her! And he looked so good doing it . How many times were these damn Uchiha brothers going to leave her speechless today?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at you, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more happy than at this moment.” She set her food down (sadly) and turned to face him. “Also forgive me for joining you, I hope you don’t mind. I was out and saw you walking here earlier and I thought it would be a nice chance to talk about our living situation. Please don’t let me stop you from your first bite though, I would feel terrible.” Was he...joking with her? She didn’t hate it. With a quick nod, she picked her food back up and got right into her giant bite, not caring that someone else was present to witness it. After chewing and swallowing (maybe faster than she should have) she had a sip of water and cleared her throat while she tried to look classier than she was acting.

“While I didn’t expect to run into you here, I definitely don’t mind. Sasuke said you weren’t coming in to town until next month though?” Sasuke was the worst person for information, and it was hard to beat Naruto. A feat that personally, she wouldn’t be proud of.

“Are you in town now...permanently then? Or is this just a quick stop before you come back to stay? Or, well, sorry I guess I don’t really need to ask your whole life story right now.” More food into the mouth! Solves the problem of talking too much every time. Why was she so nervous? She knew Itachi was less touchy than Sasuke, but she still didn’t want to sour their friendship or whatever this was, before they even moved in together. Moved in together oh my god.

“Don’t worry, that’s not an intrusive question at all. Originally I had planned to leave Suna roughly within the month, but plans changed as they do and I caught a flight this morning, quite last minute. It wasn’t really in my plans, but, well, nothing much has been recently if I’m being honest.” Okay how could she not ask more after that, was he baiting her on purpose? These fucking brothers. He did look....a little...off though. It was hard to say for sure because they really didn’t know each other too well, but, he generally had a calm and in control demeanour about him. Right now however, he seemed the slightest bit rattled, or maybe surprised? It was hard to tell.

“Sasuke was right, you’re very easy to read.” Her mouth dropped open, chopstick mid air (again). He smiled, maybe to soften the blow?

“It’s not been the best couple of months for me. A lot of...unplanned things have been happening. However, nothing to worry about. Everything will work out in the end, it always does.” He smiled softly and tilted his head and...and Sakura just hoped her blush didn’t look as strong as it felt.

“Well, I’m glad you’re so optimistic, and you can tell Sasuke to shove it, he’s not in my good books right now even though everything ‘worked out in the end’ as both of you, actually, put it.” Sakura made sure to scrunch her nose as she let out her distaste for his brother. Sasuke owed her, even if she liked Itachi and had definitely warmed up to the idea of staying with him the longer they sat together. Itachi and her had met, and even spoken before, but never as casually or as personally as this. He was often very short when at the Uchiha home, their encounters fairly brief for the most part.

“Finish up Sakura, I’ll treat you to some tea and dessert while we talk about the apartment and this coming year together.” Before he finished speaking he had waived Daiki over and paid for what she owed after her coupon, not even looking over to see if she was agreeable. He was so...confident. And a new kind of sexy, one she maybe hadn’t been subscribed to before but definitely was now. Okay this time her blush definitely stained her face, no way he didn’t notice. Did he not know what his voice and that tone...no, he couldn’t know, he was just being nice. As he always had been. Like normal Sakura, get out of your head dummy.

While she finished up her late dinner, she couldn’t stop the thoughts floating around in her head . Yes, she was definitely warming up to the idea of him.

#itasakuweek2023 #itasaku #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #itachi uchiha #uchiha itachi #naruto #naruto fic #naruto fanfiction #sakura x itachi #itachi x sakura #itachi/sakura #sakura/itachi #an idiot writing fanfiction

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chaseprice · 4 months

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7. your preferred writing fonts, 11. a WIP you’d like to finish someday, and 17. talk about your writing and editing process

7. times new roman, arial, and i'm gettin into cambria lately heheh

11. literally so manyyy that have been in the works for years, i cannot pick just one... i am Most keen to get this amberchase bartending au oneshot published because i know i am a few sentences away from finishing it, but god it's long. so i need a patient beta reader ;-; in terms of WIPs that are already out there, i feel a strong duty to finish MTWS, but it's a massive project in my mind and i find that hard. Unravel i find easier to write, and so i'm also keen on getting that one done soon. in terms of unpublished work, there's a post-game chloe frazer/nadine ross one that's also been a wip forever, an amberpricefield college oneshot, and another multichap that's 10 yrs post-sacrifice arcadia bay fic with chloe & max (& victoria), that i think i've got some really good pieces of writing within, but i will not allow myself to focus on these ones enough when i've got all that other stuff on the go

17. it's not a good one! sobs... i tend to go through phases where i just write for hours and lose myself in it, then i spend forever nitpicking and editing what i've written and struggling to get the motiviation to actually progress the story, because my mind just goes blank and i get distracted lol. i'm not sure what it is that gives me that energy and motivation sometimes. sometimes i take my notebook places and just write pages of notes of things i want to happen, so i don't forget about random ideas that have come to me (mtws i do this a lot, e.g.), whereas with other oneshots sometimes i don't have any clear plan or vision i just have at it. Unravel is an absolutely unhinged project behind the scenes because i have a document full of chaseprice excerpts i'd written since literally being like 17 years old, and i pick and chose parts of that to fit into the story i wanted to tell, then end up surprising myself while in the writing process by taking it in completely different directions

#ty terran !!! <3

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skibasyndrome · 6 months

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21 and 38 for the fic writing ask, please 💕🐸

Hanna! Thank you for sending these in!!! And the cute froggy 😍💜💜💜

21: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Ohhhh, I am so terrible about this actually 💀As soon as I have written the last sentence I have to like... physically force myself to read through it all again and edit it. Editing is just the worst part of it all to me, it's so draining and makes me doubt everything all over again. Very lucky when I can get lovely people to help me by beta-ing <3

38: Talk about a review that made your day.

Oooooooh my god, honeslty there are SO many!!!!! Most recently I had someone comment on the last chapter of Applause:

I’ve been reading fanfics for over 12 years now … and this is THE BEST and most realistic smut I’ve ever read. Made me feel literally every emotion from heart wrenching to warmth to giggly … absolutely incredible.

and like????? this review sent me reeling and I still haven't recovered four days later. because realism is what I really strive for when I write intimacy and to see that people think I delivered on that? absolutely fucking incredible!!!

Oh and whenever someone tells me that I get a character? That somehow feels better than getting a good grade on a 20-page paper and I cannot explain why but.... damn.

Please ask me some fun fic writer asks <3

#sadhappylady #answered #ask game

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multisfabulis · 1 year

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A Common Rarity

An Icy Reunion (Chapter 1/7)

Word Count: 4378

Hello to all my readers! Yes, I am finally back to post this and I apologize for the long wait!

Believe me when I say I didn't plan on taking almost 4 months to post my first fic of the year but life has a funny way of showing how cruel it can be to me. As I explained on Twitter, my hard drive suddenly died on me way back in February and, due to me not having any backups available, I couldn't begin writing this until after I had my files recovered, which included the outline and rough draft for this fic. I literally finished writing the first chapter's draft the night before everything happened so I was doubly upset! So, after almost a month of settling everything IRL, I was finally able to sit down and do the process of editing and revising the chapter before sending it off to my beta reader and letting them do their magic. It took a while but that's how we got here!

So! This fic is pretty much Ferreth's version of TRFBD was to Ven. He's going to be confronting his abusers and dealing with his self-worth issues in this, with the help of his now-girlfriend Ven! I have been wanting to write this for so long, especially since this is taking place a couple years in the future after MZCR, the first fic to show Verreth being a couple, and I'm finally able to add more to Ferreth's character that isn't just him being a simp or being down over his perceived lack of value (Yes, I know LTL did a similar job to that but this is centered on and will be mostly written in his POV, unlike LTL, so it's not quite the same!). I can only say that I hope you all will enjoy reading this up to the last chapter whenever it is written!

One last thing is that the first chapter was beta'd by my friend rosemaryblues! They did a lot of work in trimming this down and making it flow better so please show them some appreciation! As always, thank you for helping me!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt | Support me on Ko-fi!

He could hardly believe it. He never thought he’d be here again, not after what happened seven years ago. A part of him wanted to turn heel and run while another kept him rooted to in place. It was no use. He may as well just accept the truth that was staring him right in the face.

Ferreth was back “home” again.

Thesriden seemed to be how he left it that night. The same cobblestone roads covered in snow, the same black lamp posts that dotted the sidewalk on main street, the same charmingly garish shops welcoming passerbys with warm glows from the inside. It was exactly like how he remembered it. Even the many paths that climbed up and around the surrounding mountains had remained as they were. Everything looked to be unchanged from his memories, to the point it was uncanny.

His heart pounded in his ears. Shivers ran down his spine, but he wasn’t cold in the least. His vision began to fade in and out as the biting chill in the air caused the ache in his arms to flare up in pain. All the thoughts rushing through his head were screaming at him to run; to run and never look back---

“Ferret? Are you okay?”

A familiar voice broke through his mind’s cacophony. His eyes turned towards Ven, who appeared to be studying him. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she stood in front of him, and she reached a gloved hand out to touch his cheek.

“Are you with me now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Seeing the worry across her face snapped him out of his stupor. He took her hand in his and tried to steady his breathing. He was beginning to understand just a little of how she felt when they arrived in Thal Esari a couple years ago. God, how did she make it look so easy back then?

“You’re back.” Her gaze softened as the corners of her mouth curled up into a tiny smile. “I’m glad. You had that far-off look in your eyes, the one I usually get when I remember something bad.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he apologized, bringing her fingers up to his lips. He didn’t want to upset her more than he already had. “I’m all right now, though, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

“...Okay.”

He needed to be better. He couldn’t have Ven worrying herself sick just because he couldn’t handle being back here. He either had to suck it up or deal with it in a way she wouldn’t be capable of noticing.

“So,” Ven started with renewed vigor, “now that we’re here, what’s the first order of business?”

“Hmm…” Despite needing to find a place to stay, he had something else in mind. “Let’s go see my old man. I wanna get this over with sooner rather than later.”

“All right, then. Lead the way.”

So they began the long trek up to Ferreth’s childhood home. People stared at them as they walked past, some directed at him but almost all eyes were on Ven. Vlixeoxs were believed by many Dradnach to be fairy tales, scary stories to tell to children in order to spook them into being on their best behavior. She would be the first, and likely only one they’d see in their lifetimes. Her grip on his hand tightened in response to this. It was due to this that he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her close. That sent a message and it was one they all read loud and clear.

His mind kept replaying the events that led up to them being here today. It was only a month or so ago now Bris had flown down to Aurora Zenith to deliver some serious news to him. His father had fallen ill and it was unclear whether he’d pull through or not. Although apparently he was alive and kicking by the time Bris received word of it, he still thought it was urgent enough to tell Ferreth of it. It was certainly a surprise to hear about what had happened.

Yet he found the whole situation strange. Why did he care whether his father lived or died? It was that man’s fault that Ferreth grew up to have such low fucking self-esteem. Both his and Kandorinth. So why did he even feel some need to care?

Maybe raising a little girl of his own was beginning to make him see things differently.

Whatever the case may be, here he was. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. There were plenty of ways he imagined this trip to be going, all of which ended pretty badly for him. At least Ven was here to help him through this.

It wasn’t even a question of whether she wanted to come with him or not. The moment he informed her of this, she was asking him when they could leave, and if they should bring Ammy along.

It was then he understood what she meant. When she had asked him to come with her to Thal Esari for her own quest, she said it was because he gave her the courage she lacked. Those words rang out in his head and he took them to heart. Much like how he was her rock back then, she was his for the now.

Eventually, after walking several miles up one of the steeper paths, they arrived at their destination; a quaint stone cabin on a little ledge that jutted out the side of the mountain, giving its residents a rather impressive view of Thesriden below. Black smoke billowed out of the chimney atop the roof as dim orange light glowed from within the house. The steps leading up to the front door looked like they had seen better days. This was certainly a sight for sore eyes, though it seemed almost smaller than he’d remembered.

The stairs creaked beneath their feet as they walked up to the door. With anxiety toiling in his stomach, he rapped his knuckles against the wood one, two, three times before stopping. It didn’t take long for him to pick up on the sound of someone shuffling around inside and that got his mind racing.

Who was going to be on the other side of the door? Would it be his father or Kandorinth? He could handle his father but if it was his brother? God, he might as well just hightail the hell outta there while he still could.

“It’ll be okay, Ferreth.” He felt Ven squeeze his hand gently. It was only then he realized he was trembling. “No matter what happens in there, I’ll be by your side, okay? So don’t worry.”

Cracking a smile for the first time since they entered Thesriden, he held her hand as tightly as he could.

The door swung open. Behind it was an older man with light brown skin similar to his own, short blond hair streaked with gray, and sharp gray eyes. He had white stubble all along his jaw and mouth, a surprising change to the full beard he usually sported. He wasn’t the only one who changed over the course of seven years. Despite all of this though, Norvicross looked good for a Dradnach in his nineties.

Their eyes met. He watched his father’s gaze shift from confusion to recognition to finally shock as he realized who was standing right in front of him.

“F-Ferreth?” His voice sounded older, raspier. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a while.” The words came out stilted as he struggled to find something else to say. “How have you been?”

Clearing his throat, Norvicross replied stiffly, “Good! Good. Um, what brings you out here? I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Bris told me you got sick a while back, said it was pretty bad. I wanted to come see you so…”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come back!” He let out a nervous laugh before falling silent, effectively bringing the conversation to a standstill.

God, this was painfully awkward. It wasn’t like he was going to be a sparkling conversationalist throughout this meeting, but this was worse than he thought. Maybe he should’ve prepared more for this…

“Ah, I see you have someone with you!” He felt Ven jump slightly beside him as his father grasped at a new avenue of talk. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Oh, um, I-I am Venlithea Virthana--” she gave a respectful bow before continuing on, “--though most people just call me Ven. I’m Ferreth’s girlfriend.”

“Hmm, he sure knows how to pick ‘em. I must say, though, I don’t think I’ve seen an elf quite like you before.”

“That’s because she’s a, um…Vlixeox.”

“Oh. Well. Hmm.”

He didn’t think it was possible for things to be worse than they already were but he was wrong.

“How about you two come inside? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Norvicross stepped aside to let the pair in. They walked into a small (by Dradnach standards anyway) living room that felt even more cramped due to the sheer amount of things lying around everywhere. In front of the lit fireplace was an upholstered emerald coloured sofa, two similar-looking chairs on either side of it. The one on the left seemed to be extremely worn while the other was practically spotless. Above the mantel was a family portrait, depicting a much younger Norvicross. A woman sat beside him, her warm smile highlighted by the fireplace. He and his brother were seated on their laps, their smiles equally as bright.

Ferreth’s heart ached upon seeing his mother. It had been almost a decade since her death. She had looked so healthy, and so happy back then. Visiting her resting place was another thing he needed to do while he was here. It’d be nice to tell her of everything that’s happened.

As they all sat down, Norvicross commented to Ven, “You know, in all my years, I never thought I’d see someone like you, much less meet one. Frankly, I didn’t think your kind existed!”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say something like that,” she remarked with a nervous giggle.

“Forgive me if I’m asking for too much but would you mind showing me what you can do? I’m quite curious!”

“Oh, well, uh, o-okay.” She took a deep breath in and held out her hand. Wisps of darkness trailed down her arm before forming something resembling a small ball in her palm. It then began to flicker in and out like smoldering embers in a dying fire. “Is this okay?”

Taken aback by the display of power, Norvicross leaned in to start inspecting it from every angle. “Now that is an extraordinary power, young lady.” Once Norvicross’ curiosity had been sated, he returned to his seat. “I hope you’ll show me more of that during your stay here.”

“Oh, I-I-I don’t know if that would be…”

“Can you just cut the crap already?” interrupted Ferreth, who was this close to leaving the house in a huff. “Ven and I are tired, and if we’re just here to trade fake pleasantries then we might as well go.”

“...Right.” Norvicross sat up straight and cleared his throat. “I understand you’ve come all this way, and it wouldn’t be right to just merely entertain…” The older Dradnach paused, his eyes sullen. “I know it must have been hard, just coming to face me, and well…--”

“--Ferreth…I’m sorry.”

He was…sorry?

For what?

For being a shitty father? Not loving him the way he was supposed to?

Ferreth couldn’t remember the last time his father apologized to him. He couldn’t even remember if he’d ever apologized to him. What was going through his head right now?

“I realize that many of the things I said and did to you as a child were just, well, completely unacceptable. I should’ve been better,” Norvicross confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

After letting what he said sink in, Ferreth asked sardonically, “How long has it taken you to figure that out, huh?”

“Too long. If I really had to put a time to it, I’d say it was…around the time you left Thesriden. I’m just surprised you came back after everything.”

“Oh, that makes two of us, believe me.”

“Listen, Ferreth, I want to make it up to you. I know no amount of groveling or begging will erase the years of pain I put you through. You’re my son and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” He breathed in deep before continuing on. “I want to do right by you so…would you care to tell me everything you’ve been through on your journey? I want to know what you’ve been up to since you left.”

He sounded genuine enough. However, Ferreth knew better than to take his father on his word. Sure, he seemed to have acknowledged his wrongdoings and the effect they had on him growing up but did he really mean it? Or was he only doing this to alleviate the guilt he felt? Ferreth didn’t know what to believe.

But there was only one way to find out.

“I won’t force you to do that if you’re not interested, though. I’m just---”

“All right, all right,” Ferreth stopped him from floundering any further. Admittedly, he liked seeing his father struggle with his words. “Pick a time and place, then we’ll talk.”

“...Thank you, Ferreth, I---”

“But I’m saying it now, if I find that you really haven’t changed over the past few years, then I’m gone. I’m not putting myself through that shit again.”

With a slow nod, Norvicross simply said, “I understand.”

He was drawing the line here. He already spent seventeen years being demeaned, belittled, and mocked by both his father and Kandorinth and he refused to give them any more of his time. Things were going to be different, whether they liked it or not.

Norvicross showed them to the door and bade them farewell with promises to meet up again sometime in the near future. Then they set off for the next stop, with Ferreth feeling mildly surprised that the reunion went as smoothly as it did.

The next order of business was checking in at the inn. It was a place that, by virtue of it being high up in the mountains and its clientele being fellow Dradnach, could rent out small cabins to visitors instead of rooms like most other inns. It gave them more privacy and space to work with, along with other little bonuses like extra storage, and a sense of peace and tranquility. Not even Thornewind had something like this during his time living there.

With night quickly descending upon them, they needed to hurry and get themselves settled in. If he was remembering correctly, the cabins came stocked with pre-packaged meals in case of emergencies. Still, with how long they’d been traveling up till now, they were exhausted. He was almost tempted to go without dinner but---

“Ah, I see you’ve returned, Ferra.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Memories of that night flashed in his mind. A fist flying through the air to strike, snow whipping around him, ice seeping into his veins, his slit eyes. He could never forget the sheer agony he felt as thousands of tiny pinpricks stabbed his arms, right down to the very bone. He begged and pleaded for death to take him then, all in hopes it’d stop the pain.

Everything blurred together in a haze. He gasped for air as a dying man would, his hands clutching at his chest to relieve himself of the anguish he felt. Ven calling out to him barely registered in his mind, her voice growing more and more distant the louder his heart pounded.

Cold.

So cold.

He had to run.

He needed to run.

Why couldn’t he run?

Why couldn’t he move?!

But it was too late. A hand clapped his shoulder and he knew it was over.

Entering his line of sight was a familiar man. Striking blue eyes bore into his, disdain rising beneath with a tight frown. It felt like they were peering straight into Ferreth’s soul.

God, Kandorinth hadn’t changed one fucking bit.

“Are you not going to say hi to your brother, Ferra?” Kandorinth asked, his frown twisting into a dubious smirk. “It’s been about seven years, hasn’t it?”

He tried with all his might to force the words out but they just wouldn’t come to him. It was as if someone had stolen his voice, rendering him speechless.

“Oh, what’s the matter, wyvern got your tongue?” Kandorinth scoffed, his eyes never once leaving Ferreth’s as he took a step forward. “I gotta say, it’s strange not hearing you prattle on and on about---”

“Ah, you must be Kandorinth! You know, Ferreth’s told me so much about you since we arrived here!” Ven chimed in, putting herself between the two men.

As if noticing for the first time she was there, Kandorinth narrowed his gaze at her. “And who on earth are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Venlithea. I’m Ferreth’s girlfriend,” she replied. She giggled rather uncharacteristically, angling herself to look up at him. “You’ll have to excuse him, we’ve come a long way to get here and he’s feeling a little tired.”

Her name was stuck in his throat. He wished he could tell her to not engage with him, to not put herself on Kandorinth’s radar. He knew his brother wasn’t above using violence to achieve his goals, and she’d be the perfect target.

If only he wasn’t so weak, then this wouldn’t be happening!

“I see…” Kandorinth backed up a little and folded his arms across his chest, his smile only getting wider. “So tell me, Ferra.” He tilted his head towards his brother. “What made you decide to come back home? I thought you had all but abandoned us.”

“We got news that his father had fallen ill a little while ago and we wanted to come see him. Is that a problem?” Ven tilted her own head to obscure Kandorinth’s vision, causing him to blink in surprise.

“No…but I didn’t think he cared at all about Father. I mean, what kind of son runs out on his family for seven years, telling them nothing of his whereabouts or why he left them in the first place?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here. Ferreth feels really bad about leaving you and he wanted to make amends for that. We would’ve come up sooner but he just didn’t know when would be the right time. He’s really sorry and he hopes you’ll forgive him, right, sweetheart?”

“Is she right, Ferreth? Did you really come back home to make amends with me and Father?”

“Like I said, he’s really-”

“I’d suggest you keep quiet while we’re talking, Thea.”

Anger stirred from within Ferreth. It was one thing for Kandorinth to treat him like crap but he had absolutely no right to even be speaking to Ven. It was this that, despite the terror currently strangling him, had him mutter through gritted teeth,

“It’s as she said. We’re here to make amends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

A moment passed before Kandorinth sneered. “It’s nice hearing your voice again, Ferra, especially after we exchanged such harsh words the last time we talked.”

That was one hell of a way to put it. The ache in his arms flared up as he remembered the events that transpired that night.

“Well, I think we’ve done enough catching up for now, wouldn’t you say?” With yet another smirk, Kandorinth took a few steps back and turned in the direction from which they came from. “I’ll be seeing you again, Ferra. I look forward to hearing about all your little…exploits. Until then!”

With that, he turned on his heel and left. They watched him go further and further down the road till he was but a speck in the distance before he disappeared completely. It was then Ferreth dropped to one knee.

“Fuck…” he panted, “I--I can’t breathe…”

Ven knelt down in front of him, taking his face into her hands and asking, “Hey, hey, Ferreth, look at me, okay? Look at me, what’s going on? What do you need? Do you need to sit down?”

A weak nod spurred her into action. After helping him up to his feet, she threw his arm over her shoulders. Finding a set of wooden benches nearby, she sat him down, brushing the hair from his face. “Are you okay now? Do you need anything?”

“Just…stay with me, please…”

Nothing more needed to be said between them. She simply took his hands in hers and held them while he tried to steady his breathing. He’d inhale, hold for a few seconds, then exhale and repeat the process. His heart eventually stopped racing and his mind slowly cleared.

Winding his arms around her, he dropped his head onto Ven’s chest and murmured, “Sorry, I didn’t know it would get that bad.”

She breathed a sigh of relief before doing the same, carding her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture. “So long as you’re okay. What happened back there? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Let’s just say the last time me and Kandorinth talked, it didn’t end so well.” He pressed his ear against her chest. Her heart rang steady, comforting, and he let out a small sigh. “It…wasn’t good.”

“We don’t have to stay here, you know? We could just leave right now and no one would know.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work. Besides, it took us three weeks to get here and I don’t want the time we spent traveling to be wasted.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should suffer while we’re up here!” She lifted his face to look at hers. “You may be the strongest person I know but even you have your limits, so please--” she stroked a thumb along his cheek. “--don’t feel like you need to be brave for me, okay?”

This brought back memories of when they went to Thal Esari for her own journey and how he was saying much the same things she was to her. The quiet resolve in her eyes, the determination she had to see her quest through to the end; they were things he both envied and admired her for. So, as terrified as he was being back here again, he was going to follow her example and face his past head-on.

He would not let his father and Kandorinth run him out of town again.

Pulling back, he reached a hand out to cup her cheek. “I know and I’ll be okay. So long as you’re here with me.” He gave her a small smile. “Things are different now and I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m not going to be cowed into running away with my tail between my legs.”

“What are you going to do then?” she asked insistently. “What if Kandorinth tries to go after you? I don’t want you getting hurt because of him.”

“Well, I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try anything. He may be an asshole but he’s not dumb. Still, I want you to be careful around him. I know you can take care of yourself and all but---”

“Oh, if he tries anything, I will kick his ass. He may be a big, scary dragon but I’ve faced scarier things than him. He’s got nothing on me.”

With this, his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, Ven.”

He leaned down to kiss her before he drew her into a tight embrace, a gesture she returned by nestling her cheek into his stomach and wrapping her arms around his waist.

It was moments like these that reminded him of how strong she was, contrary to her petite stature. She may have presented herself as this soft, delicate waif of a girl but he’d seen the tough, firm might she had underneath. She was able to handle both a glaive and heavy gardening equipment with ease, not to mention her prowess and finesse over her ability to control darkness. She was a miniature powerhouse, and that was one of the many things he loved about her.

Kandorinth wouldn’t do anything to them, that much he knew. But if he was ballsy enough to try, Ferreth was fully confident in Ven’s ability to win. She would kick his ass six ways to Sunday and he’d revel in it.

That’d definitely be the show of a lifetime.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Soon, they arrived at the inn. With a key in hand, he and Ven made their way over to the cabin they’d be staying in for a few days. The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted by a pleasant, cozy warmth the room seemed to emanate. There was wood paneling on the walls and the floor was made entirely out of a dark hardwood that creaked with each footfall. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all in the same area, with only a meter or so of empty space dividing them into each of their own separate sections, and an enormous fireplace sat in the back.

A narrow hallway off to the right led to a small bedroom that had a king-sized bed and an armoire. Next door to it was an equally-sized bathroom, with a large vanity that had two sinks attached to it, a claw-footed tub, and a separate chamber containing a modernized garderobe.

Ferreth sighed, flopping down backwards on the bed. He didn’t think he’d be back in Thesriden again. On that night, seven years ago, he swore up and down he’d never return, not after all the things his father and brother did to him. Yet here he was, jumping on the meager chance things might’ve changed between them in his absence. Was he being too naive, too foolish in giving them this opportunity to prove that things would be different?

He didn’t know.

Whatever the case may be, the next few days were going to be interesting. Very interesting, indeed…

#airi's writing #oc; Ferreth #oc; Venlithea #oc; Norvicross #oc; Kandorinth #Corona's Shadow

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ahdriking · 2 years

Note

A03 wrapped 3 and 29

Love you Ames! Prepare yourself for some unnecessarily LONG and introspective answers 😂

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Blue Blood. Probably goes without saying 😂 however! I'll pick from my one shots too! Of all of them Make Me Come Undone stands out the most. AND I'LL TELL YOU WHY.

It's not just that it's SUPER long, it's not just that it has more orgasms/orgasm descriptions than any other fic I've written, it's not just that it's super fucking kinky and I still kinda blush when thinking about it- it's that it was fucking hard. Sometimes when writing fic it's a straight shot from start to finish, you feel inspired from the get go and that carries you to the end. But other times? You run out of steam. And you feel like giving up. And it gets really difficult.

Make Me Come Undone started off as a side project to refresh me from Blue Blood, as a gift fic for @kissporsche (who was very stubborn about giving me kinks, she was all "but I'll love anything you write!!"). The motivating, main kink I eventually got her excited about was "overstimulation and punishment" and everything else was kinda up in the air. I was keen to start it, inspired to explore it. But I ran out of steam after 500 words. Maybe it was the intimidating factor of knowing how many orgasms I'd have to creatively and non-repetitively describe, or maybe it was the fact that it was meant to be reasonably short but the finish line just kept getting further and further and further away, making progress feel stagnant. I don't know! All I know is that eventually I was at the point of having to either decide to abandon it temporarily, or force myself to knuckle the fuck down and do it. You can probably guess which one I went with 😂

The writing process was a constant game of oh we're at 3k? Probably well over halfway. Oh we're at 6k? Uhh I'm sure it'll wrap up soon. Shit 9k? What the hell is happening?? 12k??? This is getting out of hand???? 15k??????? WHAT HAVE I DONE. Honestly, after we hit 7k mark and I realised there was still so much I wanted to explore, the rest of the process was just laughing hysterically while tears streamed down my face.

As soon as it was finished, I wanted to just post it and move on (it was SUPER DIFFICULT not immediately shoving it under Kissporsche's nose, because she's my beta/muse and I crave her approval ahah) because I'm not a huge fan of editing- I'll give every fic a once over, and when it's really important (like blue blood) I'll invest serious time into it, but I prefer to be diligent during the writing process and re-read/edit sections as I go so that I don't really have to. I also tend to rely quite heavily on my betas 😂 But Make Me Come Undone had gotten to be so big, so fucking monumental, that I couldn't stand the thought of having done SO MUCH work on it, only for it to end up sub-par because I couldn't be bothered to edit. So I sent out a call on the discord to see if anyone would be up for reading it, because @kissporsche wasn't allowed to see it till it was done.

@mortimerlatrice volunteered, and I was like awesome! It's always a little scary getting someone to beta for you the first time--because you never know if your styles will clash, or if they'll be able to work in line with your vision, or if they'll invest as much love/care/energy into it as you want from them-- but I had a good feeling about Mort, who's art I adored. And then do you know what happened? This stunning individual, this saint, this god, went through all 15k with a fine toothed comb like they were being paid to do it. They murdered my commas, tidied my grammar, challenged my repetitions, suggested improvements, provided entertaining commentary, HIGHLIGHTED IT LIKE AN ENGLISH REPORT, poured over each section individually and collectively, re-read it at least 4-5 times, answered all my questions, investigated all my concerns, and spent fucking hours doing it. I was not only blown away by their dedication and competence, but I was personally humbled by their attention to detail and desire to make the fic the best version of itself that it could be. It had been my intention to have Mort edit it, integrate their changes/suggestions, and post it. But after I got that first draft back, I literally couldn't. There was just too much more that could be done to improve the fic, and after all the work Mort had done, I couldn't not do it. So, instead I religiously went through the whole damn thing again, picked Mort's brain relentlessly for various ideas/improvements, genuinely restructured entire sections, spent time meticulously investigating the dynamics/continuity for quality and consent-levels control, and just generally fucking worked some damn magic on that fic over the course of 2 more days, passing it back and forth with Mort, until it was done.

Editing Make Me Come Undone was the longest, most meticulous and most arduous refinement process than I have ever committed to for a single fic. So not only had it been quite challenging and taxing to write, but it had been a monumental effort to edit as well! But I tell you what. When Mort and I finally finished that last edit, and I could sit back and look at the whole thing completely, I have never felt more fucking proud of a fic. I was genuinely, deeply impressed with it. Normally, when publishing fics, there's always a part of me that thinks it could probably be better, or that maybe it isn't really that great, that's just a natural part of my nerves. But with this fic? I have never felt so absolutely, unabashedly confident that it was amazing. I was 100% happy with it. That was the reason I called it my magnum opus- not just cos it was impressively long, but because it truly is the most professionally, dazzlingly perfected fic I've ever written.

Basically tl;dr Make Me Come Undone was a hell of a project, but thanks to the magical talents of @mortimerlatrice, and with a little bit of extra effort on my behalf, it truly feels like the most high quality fic I feel like I've ever written.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I'm really terrible at these kinds of questions, cos I don't fuckin remember what I've written most of the time 😂 I remember having moments where I'm writing something and I feel moved by it, or amused by it, or excited about the layers to it, but I cannot for the life of me recall any off the top of my head. The one exception to this is "Better to dance with the devil than wait with god on your dance card" cos @kissporsche specifically pointed that out during their edit 😂

I'd be curious to know though if anyone does have any favourite lines of mine that come to mind? It's always really inspiring to see what impacts people!

Anyway, if you've made it this far I'm giving you a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek for being such a cool fan!! I really appreciate you 🥰🥰🥰

#ask game #ahdris asks

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succubusphan · 1 year

Text

Two Man Team - Chapter 2

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, Friends with benefits, mental health issues (mainly anxiety), Slow burn, Dan is a psych student. Canon divergence (the timeline is altered and some things never happened), Slutty Phil, Angst with a happy ending. The fic spans many years.

Author's Note: Written for the OSPBB 2023 @oldschoolpbb. Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual and to my artist Lin @anironsidh.

Edits and the art will be added at some point, we are busy bees.

POSTING EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S COMPLETED.

Total Word Count: 75k ish

Read on Ao3

CHAPTER 2: Maneater

December 2005

The weeks leading up to Christmas were chaotic yet blissful. Phil managed to nearly avoid everyone in his life back home in favour of spending time with his new buddies, going from party to party, getting wasted and overall exploring his new freedom. His enjoyment came to a screeching halt the night he was packing his bags to go home listening to Muse on blast with Sarah. An MSN buzz nearly made his laptop speakers explode.

Anja popped in his messages.

GoThic chiK (Anja): Phil are yuo ok? Why aren’t you answering your fucking phone mate?

Phil Strikr: Ya just packing ma bagg. Sup}?

GoThic chiK (Anja): Richard found your dating profile and sent it to everyone.

Phil felt all his blood rushing to his ears, he couldn’t hear anything at all, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.

“Phil? Phil! Phil! What happened?” Sarah said, shaking him by his flannel.

He turned to look at her, his vision blurring as his eyes welled up in tears. He tried to speak but no words came out, so he pointed at the screen. Sarah grabbed his laptop and gasped, cursing under her breath, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Phil threw himself back on the bed and hid under the covers as he let out a choked sob. Why would anyone do that, least of all his friend? He had been outed to his friend group, his secret was probably already spreading around the tiny town that had watched him grow. He wanted to know what they thought of him, his ‘friends,’ but he wasn’t ready for them to hate him, to yell at him for lying and pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

He didn’t want to go home. Oh, God! What if his mother had heard? His father too!

His phone started ringing and he covered his ears, crying just a little louder now.

Sarah pried the covers off him slowly and moved one of his hands, placing the phone to his ear. “It’s Anja, talk to her.”

A little whine escaped his throat but he didn’t speak.

Anja sounded like she was crying as well. “Phil, listen… Everything will be ok. I am here with you,” she sniffled. “We will talk to them and fix this. Richard had no right to do that, but we will fix it.”

“How?” he finally asked, his voice still shaking. Sarah was rubbing his back in circles, trying to comfort him.

“Make a group chat and add everyone in,” Anja said. “Let’s stop the gossip in its tracks.”

“I’m scared,” he admitted. Sarah frowned and laid at his side, pushing his hair out of his face with a worried expression.

“Everything will be alright, I promise,” said Anja.

At that moment Phil believed her. He took a deep breath and sat up. He got his laptop and made the group chat with Anja still on the phone for reassurance. “Ok, I have to hang up so I can type with both hands.”

“Alright,” Anja said. “Take a deep breath, I am here with you, ok?”

“Thank you… for everything,” Phil sniffled.

“Always. Love you,” she said and hung up.

He looked up at Sarah, who was smiling at him encouragingly. “You can do it,” she said. “If they are rude, tell them to fuck off. You have friends here.”

Phil gave her a watery smile and looked at his screen but before Phil could even type his first message, the window buzzed, startling him, his fingers pausing over the keyboard as he read his friends’ messages.

Big Dick (Richard): hey what the fuck is up with that dating profile shit? Xd shit’s embarrassing.

Icy Ian: I would like to know to o but i don’t think its embarrassing.

Phil Strikr: jesus shut the fukc up! He sent a buzz for good measure.

Phil Strikr: i will say this once: i am gay and i am not ashamed of who i am. If you want to judge me or laugh at me for it you can fuck off already. This isn’t a scandalous fucking litlte secret or smt to gossip aboit and i’m disappointed and hurt that you thought about it like that and laughed at me behind my back. If you can’t accept me as i am you can all fuck off from my life. Say one more shit about me like that and youre done.

Big Dick (Richard): wait phil

Big Dick (Richard): shit man… i didnt mean it like that. U know were friends and stuff. Always have been. Was just teasing man

Keith U.u: you know i am here for you man. You are one of my best mates and no amount of dick will change that.

Phil Strikr: that’s not funny.

Keith U.u: sorry just wanted to make the situation lighter.

Phil Strikr: who outed me?

The chat went completely still for a full minute or so.

Phil Strikr: i wanna kno who spread this instead of talkin to me.

Still nothing.

GoThic chiK (Anja): It was Richard and Noah.

Noah’s evil arch: sorry man, please dont cut me out.

Phil Strikr: haven’t you noticed that i missed out on a lot of things you did? I just wanted to meet someone and have the same experiences you had, go on dates, have a boyfriend, i don’t want to be fucking lonely anymor.

Noah’s evil arch: i never knew you felt like that. Srry! That sucls. I hope yu find a nice boyfriend soon.

Big Dick (Richard): ye, if you do you have to bring him over so that we know he’s not an ass.

Keith U.u: nobody can be more of an ass than you Richard.

Big Dick (Richard): shut up. Phil I want you to know that i’m sorry. i support you and i would never want to stop being friends with you over something so stupid. I should have thought about how this would affect you instead of running my mouth but i guess we all know i’m not that bright. Feel pretty pathetic rn.

Phil let out a sigh of relief and smiled a little, feeling relief at finally being taken seriously, but it was not over yet.

Phil Strikr: you are and it’s not stupid to me.

Big Dick (Richard): you know i don’t say this too often but i love you man. I will never do something like that again. I will be your friend for as long as you want me to and you can count on me. I’m serious,.

Phil Strikr: I appreciate the apology.

GoThic chiK (Anja): while were at it i’m a lesbian.

Phil Strikr: what? Is that why you always felt different to other girls?

Phil’s fingers froze, unable to type. Everything made so much sense now. He had been so blind.

Icy Ian: knew it!

GoThic chiK (Anja): probably because i knew you didn’t want in my pants and i didn’t want in yours xd. Shut up ian you didn’t know shit.

Big Dick (Richard): it makes sense that you wouldn’t date me then.

GoThic chiK (Anja): name one woman who would date you richard.

Icy Ian: I didn’t know about Phl but I knew you were too cool for boys.

GoThic chiK (Anja): that’s one way to put it.

Icy Ian: hey An you got a gf atm? Bring her around.

GoThic chiK (Anja): you don’t need to concern yourself with that knowledge IAn.

Icy Ian: Bring her around next time.

Phil Strikr: ye An! You have to bring her sometime.

GoThic chiK (Anja): it’s complicated, she’s from MAnchester.

Phil Strikr: You guys can crash at mine’s. My mum won’t suspect a thing.

GoThic chiK (Anja): really? Ok maybe i will invite her then.

Phil Strikr: you can always count on me.

Noah’s evil arch: Phil you can crash with me if you have your bf over. Do your parents know?

Phil Strikr: not yet.

Keith U.u: you don’t have to tell them yet if you don’t want.

Phil Strikr: thanks guys.

Big Dick (Richard): let’s get together this weekend ye? Let’s do something special.

Keith U.u: alright but if you cook for us again i’m out.

Icy Ian: agreed.

Big Dick (Richard): hate yu guys.

Big Dick (Richard): fine we can order pizza.

The conversation fizzled out after a few hours but Phil lay on his bed smiling about it, with Sarah at his side, going over everything that had happened. It hadn’t gone like he would have wanted to, but his friends knew and had accepted him - and Anja was just like him. He giggled and threw an arm over his eyes. He had been so blind at all the clues Anja had tried to give him. She had always known he was a safe space for her and tried to let him know she knew without forcing him to come out, but Phil had been too deaf, blind and overall stupid to notice.

Thankfully, Sarah had stuck at his side through the entire ordeal and even slept over that night.

---

The train ride home was nerve wracking. Phil knew his friends wouldn’t tell anyone else after their last conversation, but the thought of seeing them in person was driving him a bit barmy.

For a moment, he was scared that his family would somehow figure it out as well, but everything felt the same back home. Actually, his fear settled into disbelief when Martyn asked him if he had a new girlfriend or something. They were actually clueless, weren’t they? Not everything was as uncomfortable as that conversation though. Cornelia, Martyn’s new girl, was there to be the centre of attention and save Phil from his misery. She was really nice too, so he quickly learned to like her.

December 24th 2005

The first reunion with his friends was not nearly as awkward as he had thought. They were thankfully all back, but they had not invited some acquaintances outside the group. Anja and her girlfriend were the only girls and Phil was thankful that the guys had way more questions to ask them rather than focusing on him.

Richard even took a moment to apologise to Phil out in the balcony and pulled him into a hug, bowing to never out anyone again or gossip about people’s sexuality. He also took it upon himself to make sure that Phil felt comfortable at his house, bringing him drinks, offering water to him and even chastising Noah but asking Phil if he had ever liked any of them.

Phil didn’t take that personally, it was a stupid joke and he didn’t even have to answer because the disgusted face he apparently made was so funny that the entire group burst into laughter. Still, Richard had punched Noah in the stomach that was only half play fight and that had cut any sort of weird joke in its tracks for the rest of the night.

Just after midnight, the gang decided to have a small toast to celebrate that it was already Christmas. Shortly after, Phil made eye contact with Anja and she nodded back, putting her arm around her girlfriend and whispering something in her ear. It took a few minutes to say their tipsy goodbyes, promising to stay in touch as long as they were back home and to program another get together, but soon they were on their way to Phil’s.

The good thing about being mildly drunk is that walking in the middle of the night in the dead of winter never seems to be that big of a deal because, by the time you make it to your destination, you’ve already forgotten the trip.

Once back home, Phil led the girls to his bedroom and grabbed a comforter to set camp out in the lounge. Just as he said good night to them and turned off the light, he caught a glimpse of them sharing a soft kiss in the moonlight and smiled. He was happy for them and he couldn’t wait to experience his real relationship too, with cuddles and soft kisses in the dark.

He made his way to the lounge and plugged his phone to charge overnight, laying close enough to the side table so that he could go through his texts. He opened the conversation with Dan first. “Hey, sorry, I was out with friends but I’m back home now.”

“It’s fine. Had fun? Any hot chicks?”

“Lol. Yeah, plenty. I have two in my bed right now. ;)”

“No way. you’re lying. how did you get 2?”

“They are my friends. What did you think? xD I’m sleeping in the lounge.”

“Lame.”

Phil giggled. “What were you up to today?”

“Just out with someone.”

“Mysterious… anyone special?”

Dan started typing a reply, stopped and continued several times until he finally hit send. “mmmaybe x.X”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Something like that.”

Phil smiled. It seemed like Dan had found someone to keep him company, his first girlfriend. Maybe that would help with his self-esteem. “Aww, that’s cute. Hope you have fun with her, just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and if things go too far use protection.”

“Omg, shut up. Don’t say that. xD”

“Hey, Dan. It’s Christmas already. Hope you have a nice holiday.”

“You too, I don’t think I will with my dad around but thanks anyway.”

“Maybe you could do something with your gf as well.”

“Yeah, maybe. Goodnight Phil.”

“Good night, Dan.”

Phil set his phone on the table and covered himself up completely to keep any sort of light from disturbing his sleep. Hopefully he could make it to breakfast in one go.

December 25th 2005

His mother woke him up with a frown, letting him know that he should get Anja and Tara up for breakfast and make sure that they make it home safely as well. The message was clear: feed them and take them home, no loitering, no messing with her christmas prep.

Phil sat quietly sipping his coffee while the girls chatted with his mum about what she would be cooking. He tried his best not to spit out his coffee at the thought of eating anything cooked by his mum. As a child he had no choice, but luckily he now had the option of sticking to whatever his grandma and auntie brought around.

Tara gave him a questioning look. “What’s your favourite Christmas meal?”

“Yorkshire puddings. My auntie makes really good ones,” he answered quickly before shoving 3 cookies into his mouth and staring intently into his mug to avoid his mum’s gaze.

Anja snickered, knowing well that his mum was a disaster in the kitchen. “We better get going. Thank you for having us, Kath.”

“Oh, it’s always a pleasure, honey,” his mum said, pulling Anja into a hug. “You can stop by at any time. And you too, Tara.”

“Thank you, Mrs. L,” said Tara.

Phil helped the girls check they weren’t leaving anything behind in his room before they put on their coats and made their way out the door and into the biting cold. As they walked, he saw Tara kept throwing glances at Anja and blushing, her hand rubbing against her girlfriend’s shily. “You can hold hands if you want,” he said.

“I - What if anyone sees us?” Tara asked, looking a bit scared at the thought.

He laced his fingers with Anja’s and raised his eyebrows at them. “Now you. We can all hold hands. What will people assume then?”

Anja giggled. “Maybe they will assume we are all together.”

“That’s fine by me,” Phil said.

“Alright,” Tara said, beaming and joined in the three way hand holding, swinging their hands the way little kids do when walking along with their friends. He was a little proud to be able to put a smile on Tara and Anja’s face just by being supportive. He gave them both a hug and left them at the bus stop.

It wasn’t until Phil got back home that he saw a present under the tree that hadn’t been there the night before. It had his name on it. He sat down on the sofa and opened it carefully. Inside the package was a little note in Anja’s handwriting saying that this was Richard’s idea. Phil smiled and opened the scrapbook. Each page had a picture of their friend group and a little story, starting from 1998, when they were 11. There were screen grabs from some of their home movies, a Polaroid of their only camping attempt in Phil’s backyard which ended when they were caught in the storm, and so many days just hanging out and playing video games.

There were messages from everyone scattered all across the pages as well and a single closing note from Richard with everyone’s signature under it. “Thank you for being an amazing friend. Don’t forget you’re stuck with us forever.”

Phil smiled and held the scrapbook to his chest. Despite what had happened, he felt happy to still call them his friends.

---

The holidays were mostly uneventful except for the fact that it was the first time Phil was treated a bit more like an adult. Now that he had officially moved away, his parents were a little more lenient, so Phil had spent most of his time hanging out with his friends and getting smashed. After the New Year’s toast, in which he was the only one without someone to kiss, his parents had excused themselves and left him with Martyn and Cornelia. The three had played just another game of Scrabble before the love birds decided to abandon him as well.

Phil briefly considered going to bed as well, but he felt a bit on edge, too restless to sleep.

He made himself one more drink and went up to his room, taking a seat by his bedroom window and looking out into the night. He took a sip of his gin and tonic and sighed, wondering what the future had in store for him. His phone vibrated and he smiled when he saw it was Dan wishing him a happy new year. He was about to reply but decided that it was a great time for a call. It only rang twice before his friend picked up.

“Hey, what are you doing still up?” Phil asked.

“Just came home, I brought Malibu and a blanket and sat on the roof to watch the stars. Are you drunk?”

“Nop,” Phil said, making the ‘p’ pop. “Ok, maybe a little.”

Dan giggled. “That’s what I thought. How was your night?”

“Lonely. Didn’t have anyone to kiss around here. How about you? Did you kiss anyone at midnight?” Phil took another sip from his drink.

“That sucks.” Dan said. “...Yeah,” he added, breathlessly.

“Ooh, who was it? How was it?” Phil asked, drinking some more. Then he remembered their last conversation. “Was it your girlfriend?”

“Yeah…” Dan mumbled.

“Aw, that’s cute, congrats! I haven’t met anyone in York yet.” Phil downed the rest of his drink and set the glass on the window seal. “I feel old and like I’m the spinster of this family.”

Dan laughed. “You’re not old, you’ll find someone.”

“Do you really think that?” Phil asked as he walked over to his bed and let himself fall onto it face first. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, but he did.

“Yeah, I really do. You’re great.”

He smiled, turning his face to the side, feeling the alcohol buzz inside his skull. “I’ve been told I’m amazing, actually.”

“Yeah, you are,” Dan snorted. “Amazing Phil. You’ll find someone soon, just put yourself out there.”

Phil nodded. “Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“No problem. Happy New Year.”

“Mmm…Happy New Year, Dan,” Phil whispered and let his eyes fall shut with Dan still on the other side of the call.

---

January 2006

Seeing Anja and Tara so happy together had really cemented Phil’s resolution in finding a boyfriend as soon as possible. The first opportunity presented itself on the last weekend of January, just a day shy of his 19th birthday, when he saw a familiar face in the crowd at the pub.

Phil downed his daiquiri, adjusted his fringe and made his way towards the blonde guy he had made out with that one time. He briefly wondered if the guy would remember him or not but his doubts disappeared when he looked into Phil’s eyes and smirked.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here…” he hesitated.

“Phil,” he said in a slightly high pitched voice. Phil cleared his throat and tried again. “Phil,” he repeated.

“Mark,” he said, pulling Phil closer by the belt loop in his jeans. “I’m sorry that I never texted. You seemed much less inclined to… be up for a date.”

Phil smiled and placed his arms on Mark’s shoulders. “Yeah, I was a bit shy back then.”

“And you’re not anymore?”

“A bit, but I came out to my roommates and I don’t feel as terrified to be seen around.”

Mark’s smirk widened. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, already leaning in for a kiss.

Phil smiled and angled his face just so, feeling a rush of excitement as their lips touched for the first time. It was the taste of the sugary drink in Mark’s lips, the heat coming from the people dancing around them and the way his entire body tingled when he found himself pressed into a wall. He let out a surprised whine when he felt Mark’s hard cock pressing against his hip and heard him ask if they could go into a stall.

Phil wanted to, he really did, but he didn’t want his first real experience to be like that. “Can we go somewhere else instead?” he panted.

Mark looked into his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, do you want to come back to my flat?” He smiled and pecked Phil’s lips.

A million thoughts crossed Phil’s mind. Was he willing to let his friends know what he was up to or would it be worse to do the walk of shame in the morning? “Do you have roommates?”

“Just one, but he went home for the weekend. It would just be us.”

“Perfect,” Phil said. “Lead the way then.”

“Alright,” said Mark, giving him just one more kiss before leading him by the hand.

He spotted Sarah dancing with her friends close to the door and waved at her. She raised one eyebrow at him and shook his hand, winking at him but not uttering a single word. Phil smiled at her, and slid the small square packet she had sneakily handed him into his pocket.

The cold January air hit Phil like a brick wall as soon as they left the pub, but they were thankfully able to catch a taxi fairly quickly. The ride itself was a bit of a flash in his mind, partially because of how tipsy he was and also the fact that Mark was pressing the heel of his hand on his crotch through his jeans, slowly edging him towards madness.

By the time they got to their destination Phil was trying his best not to pant or whine but he was barely holding it in. Having to actually open the door and walk up the stairs was a sobering moment though - nerve wracking even, most of his boldness gone despite still feeling aroused.

Mark saw his hesitation and offered his hand to him. “Come in, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Phil smiled and nodded. That was all the reassurance he needed. He let Mark guide him to the bedroom, where he turned on the light and gently pressed him against the door.

“May I kiss you again?” Mark asked, his voice low, his lips nearly on Phil’s already.

Phil nodded and smiled, happily surprised at the change of pace. The soft kiss Mark placed on his lips liquified his insides even more than the heavy make out from the bar. This time, he let out a loud moan without even meaning to, blushing at how desperate he sounded. He let Mark guide him, resting his arms on the blonde’s shoulders and playing with his surprisingly soft hair.

When Mark finally broke the kiss, Phil chased his lips, causing him to laugh and give him a quick peck. “This is your first time, right?”

“I -” Phil’s eyes widened.

“It’s alright,” Mark whispered. “I just want to know, to be extra careful and to make it special for you.”

Phil blinked repeatedly. “T-thank you.”

He shook his head, with a small smile. “So what do you want to do?”

“I- I don’t know,” Phil mumbled.

“You can tell me,” Mark reassured him.

“No, I know,” Phil admitted, a little frustrated with himself. “I just - I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to suggest something then?”

“Please,” Phil said.

“May I?” Mark asked, running his fingers over Phil’s zipper.

Phil paused for a second but realised that he actually trusted Mark and liked how things were going so far, so he pecked Mark’s lips and breathed out a quiet “Yeah.”

Before Phil could even comprehend what was happening, Mark was on his knees, unzipping his jeans and wrapping one hand around his cock, his hot breath ghosting over it. “Fuck, I knew you would be massive,” Mark said. “I need to blow you, is that ok?”

Phil nodded so fast he got a little dizzy.

“Wait, let’s get to bed first,” Mark said, standing up already.

Phil shuffled awkwardly with his jeans down to his knees and lay down on the bed, watching as Mark removed his jeans and underwear before realising he should be doing the same and following suit.

“You’re gorgeous,” Mark mumbled as he crawled onto the bed and hovered over him, kissing him a bit deeper this time, using just a hint of tongue, making Phil feel like every single muscle in his body was on fire. Before long, Phil was panting and getting a bit too close to the edge which Mark must have noticed. “Shhhh, only a little longer,” he whispered, biting his neck gently and moving down his body, dropping kisses along the way. It made Phil a bit proud to see the hunger in Mark’s eyes when he looked at his cock, but his thoughts couldn’t linger for long once Mark pressed his tongue flat against his shaft and dragged it from root to tip slowly yet firmly. When he finally wrapped one hand around it and tongued his cockhead, all Phil could do was bury his fingers in the blonde’s hair and let out a hiss.

It was glorious. It was the best thing that had ever happened to anyone in the history of the world, Phil was sure of it. All his life had been leading to that moment, to Mark wrapping his lips around him and bobbing his head, sucking him off like there was no tomorrow. He could only imagine how pathetic he sounded but he couldn’t be too sure, his ears had stopped working at some point, his eyes though, they had caught the exact moment Mark had swallowed his cum.

Fuck, Phil wanted to do it again and again. Even though he had never done that before, he knew then that he had found his calling. He had been born for sex.

Mark fell at his side, fisting his cock furiously for a second before Phil turned to him, pulling him into a kiss and swatting his hand away to replace it with his own. It was exhilarating to hear Mark panting and almost whining into the kiss with every stroke until he came all over their stomachs, his body shaking with the force or his orgasm.

They cuddled for a bit in silence, sharing soft kisses and smiling like crazy. Phil hadn’t known what to expect but the night had already exceeded his expectations. Then, Mark noticed that Phil was getting hard again.

“Hey, Phil. How much did you want to do tonight?”

“I don’t know. Why? What do you want?”

“You can say no, of course, but…”

Phil’s stomach was twisting into knots with anticipation. “What?”

“I want to ride you.”

Phil’s mouth fell open.

“Don’t be so shocked!” Mark giggled.

“I thought you were a top,” Phil said before slapping his hand on his lips. “I mean-”

“It’s fine. I am vers. I mostly top but I just need you inside me, you look so good!” Mark said. “If you want to, of course!” he rushed to add.

“I want to,” Phil said and kissed him, letting his hands wander all over Mark until he got too close to his ass.

“Uh- uh. You stay right here, I’ll be back in a few,” Mark said.

Phil nodded and let him go, following his retreating form with his eyes. Mark had a nice ass, actually.

By the time he made it back, Phil was mostly soft and almost falling asleep but Mark straddled him without hesitation.

Phil blinked, smiling as he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. “Hey,” he whispered.

Mark leaned down and kissed him, licking and biting at his lips. “Missed me?” he asked, grinding on him just right, making his blood start to rush south once again.

“I was falling asleep, actually,” Phil admitted with a wink.

“Tsk tsk, we can’t have that,” Mark said and opened his bedside drawer to pull a lube bottle.

“I have a condom. It’s in my jeans.”

“Smart boy. Don’t worry, I have some too. You keep that one for next time.”

Phil smiled. His mind hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he liked the sound of that. “Ok!”

“Now, pay attention,” Mark said. “You put lube on your dick, just a bit, and you press the tip of the condom like so, that’s very important! and roll it down. If it rolls back up, you put it the wrong way around. And try not to do that, it hurts.” Mark rolled the condom carefully onto Phil’s cock. “Now you put more lube on the outside and that’s it.”

“Why do you have to press on the tip?”

“So it doesn’t have air inside and the cum has a place to go to. It could break otherwise.”

“Don’t you need lube as well?”

“Of course, but I took care of that already.”

“In the bathroom?” Phil asked.

Mark nodded.

“Aw, but I wanted to do it.”

Mark raised an eyebrow at him. “You wanted to finger me?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, feeling the blush creeping into his cheeks but still smiling.

“Alright, suit yourself for a bit.” Mark lay shifted until he was only partially on top of Phil, throwing one leg over his hip and kissed him as he guided Phil’s hand to his back.

Phil took the initiative this time, pressing their lips together, trying to lead just like Mark had done before, using his tongue gently at first, angling his face to deepen the kiss as his fingers slowly caressed Mark’s hole, feeling the lube seep out of him already, feeling him shiver as he pressed in very lightly.

He remembered how much lube Mark had used on him and swatted around the bed for a bit until he found the bottle, popping the cap open and adding some to his fingers just in case. Mark hissed when Phil finally pressed a single finger inside, which worried him, making him freeze.

“Did I-?”

Mark shook his head. “Cold. You are supposed to rub it between your fingers to warm it up first. It’s ok.”

“Sorry,” Phil said.

Mark buried his fingers into Phil’s hair and pulled him into a heated kiss, starting to move his hips, rubbing his cock against Phil’s hip bone.

Encouraged by this, Phil moved his finger inside and out and found no resistance so he added another and another soon after. The room was smouldering, Phil couldn’t hear anything other than their laboured breaths as they moved together, aided by the thin layer of sweat covering them.

Then, everything came to a stop. “Wait,” said Mark, trying to catch his breath. Phil stilled immediately. “I don’t want to come like this, remember?”

“Ok,” Phil said and pulled his fingers out ever so gently.

Mark smiled at him and straddled him. He took a few deep breaths before grabbing Phil’s cock and sliding down on it, the smile on his lips widening as he went down, a small sigh escaping his lips when he bottomed out.

Would it be too early to say that Phil was in love?

Every muscle in his body was tensing in an effort to avoid coming on the spot. The pause Mark took was a godsend to help him relax a bit until they were ready to begin.

Mark pressed his hands on Phil’s chest a bit, his brow burrowed into a frown as he pulled himself up and down, gently rolling his hips and doing it all over again a few times until he found it. He moaned and spread his knees further apart, lifting his hips and dropping onto Phil’s cock as hard as he could trying to find the same angle. All Phil could do was hold onto Mark’s waist and help him sink even deeper, faster, harder, as moans fell from their lips.

Maybe they weren’t even moaning anymore, maybe they were screaming, he honestly couldn’t tell, but when Mark begged him to help him come, Phil didn’t hesitate. He held Mark firmly in place as he fisted his cock in a blur, making him twitch and come all over him. The pressure around him and the sight before his eyes were all Phil needed to join him two thrusts later.

Mark smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Stay,” he whispered before rolling to the side, laying his head on Phil’s chest and promptly falling asleep before Phil could even answer.

“Ok,” Phil mumbled with a smile.

---

Phil woke up to the smell of toast and coffee, slowly opening his eyes and frowning at the amount of light coming through his window until… until he realised that it was not his window, nor his bedroom. He sat up so fast his blood pressure dropped immediately. Where was he? What…? He pressed his hand to his forehead and tried to think about the previous night. He had gone to the pub with his friends and then… Mark. Phil looked down, lifting the sheet he didn’t remember pulling over himself and saw that he was still naked. Right.

He took a moment to assess how he felt about everything that had transpired between them and found that he had no regrets. They’d had their fun and he remembered Mark even hinting at a future date. He liked the sound of that.

“Aw, you’re awake! I wanted to surprise you with breakfast!” Mark said from the bedroom door. He was wearing a white apron with pink love hearts… in fact it looked like he was only wearing the apron.

“Would it make you happy if I said that I’m still surprised?”

“Yes, immensely,” Mark smiled.

Phil couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, I am.”

“Scooch over so that we can have breakfast in bed - and drink the water I left for you,” Mark said, pointing at the glass on the nightstand. “How is your stomach feeling?”

“Hmm,” Phil made space for Mark, sitting back against the headboard and considered it his reply as he drank water slowly. “It’s fine, I think.”

“Alright, you should eat slowly. Start with the toast just in case,” Mark said as he climbed into bed, and sat sideways, resting his back against the wall.

Phil set the glass back on the nightstand, coming to sit at Mark’s side and resting his back against the wall as well, and grabbed a piece of toast. It was perfect, just the perfect golden colour and texture. Maybe it was his empty stomach talking, but he thought it was the best toast he’d ever had. “Hmm, thank you. This is amazing.”

“It’s just toast,” Mark smirked.

“Still, you didn’t have to do this,” Phil said, nudging Mark’s side.

“I wanted to,” Mark said, biting into his own toast.

Phil cocked his head and smiled. Mark was just so… beautiful - and sexy. Maybe he shouldn’t be asking yet, but they had crossed some boundaries, it was only fair to clear the air. “Did you really mean it when you said there would be a next time?”

“I did - but I want to be very honest with you.”

Phil’s face fell. “Oh-”

“No, don’t look so crushed yet. Hear me out, please,” Mark said. “I just came out of a long relationship and it was pretty bad, I don’t think I want anything serious at the moment. I’m not sure I will want it in the future either, but I like you and I would love to see you again, no strings attached.”

“So… just for sex,” Phil mumbled. Part of him wanted to say yes but he also wanted a boyfriend.

“No, not just sex. You know, like last night, we had sex, yes, but you stayed, we had fun and I made you breakfast. I would also like to hang out if you wanted to. Like friends with benefits.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” Phil pleaded.

“I do. I can take you on dates, we can chat, we can have our fun, just - no labels. And you could see other people, of course. Just be careful with STDs.”

“I don’t know,” Phil said, leaving his toast on the plate. “I don’t know if I can keep my feelings in check.”

“You can think about it and text me if you’re interested.” Mark grabbed his phone from under the pillow and typed something before putting it back. “And it wouldn’t be a no feelings situation, just no falling in love.”

Phil took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright. I should get going,” he said, getting up and picking his clothes from the floor.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” Mark said, sounding small. “I’m sorry I ruined the mood.”

Phil pulled his jeans on and turned to him shaking his head. “It’s not you. You did nothing wrong, I just - wanted a boyfriend, someone who cares about me.”

“I see,” Mark said, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hope that you find what you’re looking for. You seem like a nice guy.”

“Thanks. You too, Mark,” Phil said, attempting a smile.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” He sounded hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” Phil said, pulling on his T-shirt and walking out of the room and the flat as fast as he could without running. When he tried to open the building door, he found that it was locked and cursed himself until he heard it buzz. Mark must have realised that he needed to be let out.

Phil’s head was pounding and he didn’t know if it was due to the alcohol or what Mark said. He made it two blocks before realising he didn’t exactly know where he was or where he was going. He pulled his phone out to text Sarah but found that he had messages already.

“Hey, it’s mark, save my number :)” He must have sent that while they were talking.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Your nearest tube stop is 3 blocks to the left.”

“Please let me know when you made it home safe even if you don’t want to talk anymore.”

Right, Phil smiled, he just needed to keep going. It was sweet of Mark to care about him even after he left like that. By the time Phil made it back to the dorm and got into bed he was already doubting himself. Would it be so bad to have someone he trusted to have sex and hang out? Mark seemed like a good person. He hadn’t tried to string him along with lies and he had been caring too.

“Hey, made it home safe. Thanks”

“Glad to hear that. Don’t forget to eat something.”

“K dad. Hey Mark?”

“Yeah son?”

“I think I would like to be friends with benefits.”

“I would like that, but I don’t want to pressure you into anything. Why don’t we hang out next week and see how it goes? If it happens it happens and if not we can just be friends.”

“Sounds like a plan. We could celebrate my birthday.”

“When is it?”

“Today!”

“What? We HAVE to do something. I guess you want to spend the day with your friends but this week for sure.”

Phil thought about it for a minute and decided that it was worth a shot. “Actually there’s a small party at my dorm tonight if you want to come,” he lied. Well, the guys never needed an excuse to drink.

“Sure, text me the address.”

---

Phil spent most of the day replying to texts, tweets and MySpace messages from his friends and random internet people. He even got a call from Dan that lasted like three hours. Phil was tempted to tell Dan about Mark but what would he say? He was not about to let his younger friend know that he had had sex or that he was gay for that matter. He didn’t want to hide either, but some things were better left unsaid for the time being.

When Dan asked if he could follow his other socials, Phil decided that it was a good enough way to let the information slip. It said bisexual right on his MySpace profile and even though it wasn’t the entire truth, it was enough. If Dan wanted to freak out about it, he could.

Their conversation was cut short when the doorbell rang and Phil had to go help with the shop. The guys had gone above and beyond. Well, above and beyond what they usually did, which was buying cheap alcohol and some crisps. This time they had gone for mid range bottles and also a rainbow unicorn cake.

Looking at the time with increasing nerves, he helped Sarah put everything away and took a brisk shower. There was no way he was going to let Mark see him with bad hair and he was also still kind of sweaty from the previous night, which was not ideal. He needed to at least look presentable.

Just as he was getting to the finishing touches of the look Anja had suggested over MSN, the doorbell rang again and Sarah squealed, running to the door to let Mark in while Phil put some eyeliner real quick and smudged it with his finger. For once, he liked what he saw in the mirror, his black skinny jeans and bright purple T-shirt really complimented his black hair. He sprayed some deodorant and perfume and walked out to the common area to greet his guest.

Mark turned around and flashed him a wide open smile, Phil could have almost sworn that his blue eyes were shining. “Hey, birthday boy,” Mark said.

“Hey, thanks for coming.” Phil smiled back.

“Peter, come help take everything to the coffee table,” Sarah said, adding a murmured a “and stop staring at them,” that made Phil snort.

“What? What am I taking?” Peter asked.

“Grab the snacks, I can’t trust you with the bottles. When you’re done take the glasses too.”

Peter groaned but helped anyway.

“Hey… Mark?” Callan asked from his spot on the big sofa.

Mark turned towards him.

“Come sit with us,” he said.

Jimmy smiled and patted the place between him and Callan.

“Alright, thanks,” Mark said, a bit awkwardly. And Phil had to smile at how much of an effort everyone was making for his birthday. His roommates knew there was something between him and Mark and were trying to be very cool about it, while also acting a bit like worried parents meeting their kid’s boyfriend for the first time. Mark was trying very hard to pretend he didn’t notice it and seemed genuinely amused with the entire situation.

In only a few minutes, they had all plopped around the small room, some on chairs, upside down buckets or the floor. It came to Phil’s attention that Mark fit perfectly into his friend group, even if he was a bit older and was probably over the confined spaces of uni dorms and just drinking for the sake of it. He didn’t complain for a second. In fact, he beat them all at Scrabble but his real talent was charades, especially given that everyone was a bit drunk by then.

Few things had made Phil as proud as guessing Mark’s charade. At first he was acting mysterious with his hands shaped into a gun, maybe passing ropes? Jumping? But the moment Mark put his hands up in a surrendering fashion and dropped flat to the floor stiff as a board, Phil knew exactly what it was. “Mission impossible!” he yelled and the others groaned. They had obliterated the entire group, just the two of them - together.

After cutting the cake and a few Buffy episodes, the night started to die down. Not so much for Phil, who was very aware of the casual touches Mark gave him, of the heat coming off him, of their thighs pressing tightly together and the fact that he had started giving Phil non alcoholic drinks halfway through the party.

Callan and Jimmy were the last to go to bed, letting Mark know that he could come at any time. Phil almost dived out the window when Jimmy winked at them and told them to have fun, but Mark was not fazed by it, just throwing an “I will” his way.

He turned towards Phil and pressed a soft kiss to his lips as soon as they were alone. “Do you share your room with anyone?”

“No, it’s very tiny, but it’s just me,” Phil said, now feeling a bit insecure about his room.

“We just need a bed - if that’s what you want.”

Phil stood and extended his hand towards Mark, leading him down the hall without a word. Once they were behind closed doors, Phil turned around and kissed Mark, really kissed him. Without even turning the light on, he shuffled them towards the bed, only stopping once he felt the wood pressed against the back of his thighs. Mark’s hands were all over him, pulling at his clothes, helping him undress between kisses. They giggled at the awkward and complicated task of removing their skinnys aided only by the street light coming through the blinds.

Soon, Phil found himself pressed into his mattress, without a care in the world or a thought on his mind as Mark prepped him with so much lube he thought he was going to drown and pressed into him. It was tight and deep and hot and Phil felt sexy and dirty all at the same time. He felt like a sinner, not in a shameful way, just - like this was worth going to hell for. He was in love with sex, and himself, and maybe even Mark, even if Mark didn’t want that. He would deal with it. He just needed to fuck, forever.

As lay resting his head on Mark’s chest and his eyes started to fall shut, the last thought to cross his mind was that he hoped he hadn’t been too loud or his friends would never let him live it down.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #succubusphan fics #dan and phil #phan au #ospbb 2023

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