#Pretty Boy - Chapter 3 - 36

[jtl-fics]

Can I ge some Petty Boy? 🥰

WIP Wednesday 2/28/24 (CLOSED) | Pretty Boy

He ignores how Neil hardly ever wears more than a t-shirt and boxer briefs to bed. "Yes or No?" he asks because he knows Neil isn't asleep yet.

"Yes." Neil says without hesitation which settles something in Andrew to hear it even if Neil's 'always yes' was bullshit.

Andrew moves to bring his front to Neil's back. They've done this almost every night since the first time, but when Andrew goes to put his hand under Neil's shirt as usual he pauses.

"Hand under your sweat shirt, yes or no?" he asks.

[oxygen537art]

istg I luv ur art style so much and also can I get mha smut recommendations (idrc wat ship but mainly bakudeku and dabihawks is wat I'm looking for. shiggydabi is cool too)

Thank you so much for your nice words, I'm glad you enjoy my art! ❤️

I've listed the authors and titles of their works that I once saved in my favorites. I hardly follow updates now, it's been a while since I reread the works listed here, so I rely purely on notes and bookmarks left by past me. Just a reminder that everyone's tastes are different, please read the tags. And check out the authors' other works!

18+, Minors Do Not Interact!

Aphra_After_Dark

The Desk Job

Fight for You, Fighting for Me

how to 69 when both of you have fangs

In For A Penny

Mommy Milkers

Of Corset Is

A Slow Descent

Something New

bluebelle

can I kiss you?

full rack

hard boiled

cozzzynook

“Closer”

"Come on baby bird, show me whose submissive”

“Lace and Feathers”

“Mated” series

“I got you a present birdie”

“I’ll Love you even when you don’t love you”

Self-care is the best care, but with you it’s just better

The sun that stole the moon

“Touya’s Fun Night In”

Cateil

drowning in you

heart and soul

messy

palpable

cellostiel

Maraschino Cherry Juice

Relaxation

The Real Deal

Songbird

So Fucking Electric

DeadBoysWalking

Hyperfixation

Shut Up And Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Good Boy

If Only

Eyes On Me

The Other Way

Wait A Minute, Baby, Stay With Me A While

Turn you inside-out by dorothycanfly

drunkenCharm

As Above So Below

Before I Ever Met You

Begging for Thread

Days of Bloom

Drowning Gods

Good Vibrations

i hold you to my heart's desire

Waiting Game

FeatheredFvck

Bad Behavior

Bet

Breathe

Dickstracted

Euphoria

I'll Do You Two Better

It's A Spring Thing

The One Percent

Unexpected

From flames to ashes by NekoRika (This is a collection of oneshots, but I save the chapters 3, 23, 36, 41, 43)

Neurotoxin

Arrangements

Change Of Pace

Learn To Breathe

Punk Gecko Boi watches Smexy Gaymer and his Goth bf fuck on webcam.mp4

Pixie_Virus

4's a Party

Couch Troubles

Meet-Cute

After Dicking Cuddles by the_pursuit_of_happiness

I'll Make It Fit and Milk Me by paleserendipity

SaltyTomato

Good boy

I hope they have your eyes

Pretty Fingers on Slick Thighs

satan_copilots_my_tardis (I recommend all of their works. Some are only available on Tumblr (18+) @satancopilotsmytardis)

SoenNoAme (TsukkiNoNeko)

Blue Flames, Blue Passion

Captivated By Your Resonating Light

Close To You

Dancing Flames

Diplomatic Approach

Edge of Glory

Glimmer

Heated

Kiss Me Like It's Do Or Die

Play A Little Game

Satisfy the Undisclosed Desires in your Heart

sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie.

Stuck in Repeat

Tears That Drip Sore

until you learn to love yourself

White Camelia

Your Innocence Is Mine

Wind Down by frozenCinders

Primal Instincts and Pretty Things by truthinadvertising

fuck around and find out and End Racism in the OTW- All Dolled Up by unbalancedcentrifuge

VampyrSutton

Be Good For Me

The Cave

Eyes on Me

Good Little Whore

Hate Fuck

How Are You Alive?

How Do You Live Like This?

How the Mighty Fall

Spring Heat

SSD Day 3~Werebeasts~Claiming Bite/Knotting

SSD Day 6~Anthro~Collar

Werewolfnightwalker

All Of Me

The Consequences of Nesting

Down By the Wexford Border

Save a Horse, Ride a Birdboy

Soft

Take Me Apart So Gently

Turn Off The Lights (We Don't Need Them To Dance)

[newkatzkafe2023]

Monkey Masterlist 4

WUKONGVERSE Incorrect Quotes

0 Origin of the WukongVerse

1 Chairs

2 Broken Rules

3 Adorable Idiots

4 Flirting problem

5 Possessive

6 Deathwish

7 Affection

8 Kiss Already

9 Cake

10 No

11 Goodnight

12 Wednesday

13 Positive

14 Christmas

15 Silent

16 Morse Code

17 Happy new year

18 Game Night

19 You do it

20 Genderbend Special

21 Great threats

22 COD

23 Hissy Fits

24 RIP

25 Mixed Signals

26 What did He do

27 Who's gonna tell them

28 Why ask

29 Played himself

30 Desserts Battle

31 Clowns

32 Oh No

33 Affwection

34 Namings

35 Before we go

36 Pretty boy

37 Learning

38 Childlike

39 Danger

40 Genderbend 2

41 New Husband

The ballads of Sun Wukongs

Chapter 0 Prologue

Chapter 1 Popular D*cks

Chapter 2 Enter Monkey Queen Yn

Chapter 3 Newish Kings of HeavenLand

Chapter 4 Youthful indiscretion 1

Chapter 5 Youthful Indiscretion 2

Chapter 6 Dates and Sabotage

Chapter 7 Pressure like a...

Chapter 8 Youthful indiscretion Final

Chapter 9 Wrong Chosen man

Chapter 10 Irrational Tears

Chapter 11 Monkey Prom King

Chapter 12 We're Your husbands

Chapter 13 Epilogue

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐒

[woesoftheirwretched-if]

[SECRET ROS]; once people do find out them, i will add their info on here but i won't that easily to give it up.

| there are 6 secret ros, here.

below the secret ro sections is the flings section

main post | warnings | faq | dev-logs

???? ???? [????], ??? - ✩

Secret ro; since this will be hard to ask questions about them, we shall this one "A" so when you want to ask about them, put 'secret A'

hint; they will appear in chapter 1, but so will many characters.(cant make it easy)

#wretched ; a

??? ???? [??], ?? -✩

Secret ro; they will be named 'secret B'.

hint; this one will legit be easy.

#wretched ; b

????? ????? [???], ?? - ○

Secret ro; they will be called 'secret C'.

hint; you will meet them in chapter one.

#wretched ; c

??? ???? [????], ??-☆

Secret ro; they will be called 'secret D'.

hint; they will be mentioned in chapter 1 but not seen until chapter 3.

#wretched ; d

????? ?? [??], ?? -♧

Secret ro; they will be called 'secret E.

hint; you will meet them in prologue part two but alot more characters will appear.

#wretched ; e

??? ??? [??], ?? - ◇

Secret ro; they will be called 'secret F'.

hint; you will meet them in prologue part one but lots of characters are there as well.

#wretched ; f

[FLINGS]; there are just 4 flings to choose from.

I there is a fling that is your second cousin, it's up to you to mess around with that fling or not, and there is a fling that is married. you can choose to have flings or not, it's up to you.

CERES WREN [male], 20 - ✩

Backstory: he is your cousin, you remember him but just a small bit, he is your second cousin, he was a young boy who was shy, naive but now he changed.

📎 An man with olive skin, he has dark blue eyes, he has blonde hair that is short up to his ears and left natural. He is quite tall (6'0). He has an average bulid for his age. He wears a noble clothing that looks like an average prince-wear, white with some gold undertones, he has a scar on his hand, due to an accident he had when he was younger.

#wretched: ceres

| he is your cousin, its up to you fool around with him or not.

YUKI LION-DILL [female], 36 - ♡

Backstory: she is a married woman, she often visits the castle since her sister is one of the consorts, she says that her husband does not give her pleasure - she would reach out to you and you notice that it was only to you.

📎 An woman with fair skin, she has hazel eyes, she has very dark brown hair that has some natural blonde highlights. She is short (5'2). She has a chubby body type. She has some beauty marks on her face under her lips and under her eye. She wears a kimono, very long and pretty, with a her kingdom's colors; light blue and minty green.

#wretched : yuki

| she is married and does treat you like a toy and just uses mc for pleasure, she is about the most toxic chsracter but if u are into it then..

COYOTE ROMANO [male], 23 - ♧

Backstory: He is a jester of the court, he is the fool, the main big joke of the kingdom, a mysterious man - Coyote, you aren't sure if it is his real name, he seems to have taking a liking to you.

📎 An man with light brown skin, he has dark violet eyes, he has light blue hair that is shoulder-length and often tied in a side ponytail. He is quite tall (6'0). He has an average build but some muscles underneath. He is very much seen wearing his jester clothes; bright red and black with a pointy hat along with pointy shoes.

#wretched ; coyote

| he will sleep around with people so when you do want him then he may reject you or not.

AENOR SARAH [female], 26 - ■

Backstory: she is a nurse that works in the castle, she wasn't here before when you gave birth but she is here now and now delivers babies. You remember hearing Aenor used to be a male back then but none really knows her past; you cannot say if it's true or not.

📎 An woman with a very pale skin, she has dark brown eyes, she has blonde hair that is long and tied in a high ponytail. She is average in height (5'7). She has an skinny body type but some muscles. She wears a nurse's outfit with a long white coat that reaches to the floor, she wears a long skirt with some crosses on it. She has some bruises due to rough patients.

#wretched ; aenor

| she will be a bit harder to fool around with since she will appear during certain routes/choices.

Flings are not romance-ables but remember they could be a secret ro so... keep your eyes out!

note.. some ros will be hard to meet since it depends on choices or fool around with.

[sunsuns-babie]

If I Get My Way {K.SUNOO x F!READER}

IN WHICH: Kim Seonwoo aka Sunoo is a Sophomore at Decelis University and has a crush on the pretty Music Education Major Y/n Marsh. Seems like a match made in heaven since he’s also a Music Education Major and has had a crush on her since Freshman year when he met her at orientation… well sort of. He’s a little delusional about her but that’s okay, right? When finally given the opportunity to get to know her and potentially date her some weird things start happening that Sunoo doesn’t quite understand… which leads to the postponement of his grand plan to confess his feelings for Y/n. At the end of the day does he get the girl or does he miss out and think of what could’ve been?

ALSO IN WHICH: Sunoo and Y/n’s friends also have their own storylines and side quest relationships happening simultaneously with theirs.

PAIRING: Kim Sunoo x !Female Reader (ft. Mystery Character 1 & Mystery Character 2)

GENRE: Non-Idol AU, College/University AU, SMAU

WARNING: Swearing, sexual jokes/comments, allusion to sexual activity, attempts at humor (I don’t think I’m funny but I’m trying), jokes about murder/killing oneself, and Danielle from NewJeans as the face claim.

FEATURING: Lee Heeseung (EN—), Jay Park (EN—), Jake Sim (EN—), Park Sunghoon (EN—), Yang Jungwon (EN—), NI-KI (EN—), Jang Wonyoung (IVE), Shin Ryujin (ITZY), Choi Yeonjun (TXT), Choi Soobin (TXT), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), Karina (aespa), NingNing (aespa), Huh Yunjin (LE SSERAFIM), Yoon Keeho (P1HARMONY), Anton Lee (riize), Hwang Yeji (ITZY), and mentions of various other idols.

status: on going

start: Feb. 12, 2024

end:

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and is in no way a real depiction of the idols portrayed in it and has no actual connection to their real world selves. I don’t know them I’m just using their image for characters in a fictional story.

A/N: This is my first SMAU ever I’ve written stories on other platforms in the past and kind of stopped to be a reader for awhile but I recently got an idea for a story and wanted to try and make it a reality. So please forgive me if it’s bad I’ll try my best to make it enjoyable for you. But I barely know how to work Tumblr as a creator or writer so forgive me if this is all over the place 😭😭😭.

A/N 2: If you want to be added to the taglist for this SMAU you can comment on this post or which ever chapter you see first!

INCOMING MESSAGES…

PROFILES: 2 HOT 4 U LONER BOYS CLUB (ft. 2 Baddies)

01: bitch boy

02: you’re not my mom

03: DDEONU GOOD!!!

03.5: bonus chapter 1

04: we going on a date 🤪

04.5: bonus chapter 2

05: free food + written part (755 wrds)

06: blasting Olivia Rodrigo traitor

07: Love changes a man ❤️❤️

07.5: bonus chapter 3

08: keeho is a furry confirmed ✅

08.5: bonus chapter 4 [written part] (1,304 wrds)

09: KILLING MYSELF [POSTPONED]

9.5: bonus chapter 5

10: tba….

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[imthebestcharacter618]

Hello internet users! I am Stephen Pyramid, but you may just call me Steve! I am here to awnser questions; and embarrass my suffering cousin Bill! Nice to meet you all, and...

Remember! Existence is a deception, the galaxy is a riddle, eat copper wires, ta-taa!!!

More under!

STEVE HAS BEEN TURNED HUMAN! After a certain situation regarding @imbackbilly and @anonymoustriangles, he's now stuck as a human with an extraterrestrial being he was close with now upset with him, and left to deal with a lot if suppressed emotion! Feelings like ANGER, RESENTMENT, GUILT, HATRED, GRIEF! And don't forget the most fun one: FEAR! LEFT ALONE WITHOUT THE AXOLOTL AND FAMILY HE'S PURPOSELY AVOIDED, STEPHEN PYRAMID IS COMPLETEY FINE!

So ladies and gentlemen, euclideans and monsters, prepare for a whole Lotta angst starring: STEVE'S MOM!

Is she a GHOST? Is she a figment of Steve's now overwhelmed human MIND? WHO KNOWS??? FUTURE POSTS INCLUDE: Steve getting bullied relentlessly and him having poor comebacks! Asks that make him question his life importance! Hallucinations! Sickness! Friends! @hotflamesbaby, @aspotofteabillcipher! of course, MESSING WITH BILL! Don't forget, being extra protective of his niece!

He's just recently moved in with @cipherjuice-bioexorist! And they are completely PLATONIC! 100%, NO LIES!

And BOY, do they have ISSUES! Lots of drama to come! Need to keep up?!

Go to the...

°•☆ BEETLETIE MASTERPOST! ☆•°

Chapter 1. How They Met

Chapter 2. (Context for Chapter 3)

Chapter 3. Warming Up

Chapter 4. The Argument

Chapter 5. Reuniting

Chapter 6. Moving Back In

Chapter 7. Telling Bill

Chapter 8. Getting Adjusted (Beetles Paranoia Attack)

Chapter 9. Steve Cleans Entire Apartment

Chapter 10. Beetles Tease Ass Kiss

Chapter 11. Beetle Flirting

Chapter 12. Mistakes

Chapter 13. Caught

Chapter 14. Axolotl; Steve Prevention Post

Chapter 15. Bill's Attempt

Chapter 16. Empty Apartment

Chapter 17. Steve and the Void

Chapter 18. Escape

Chapter 19. Steve Awakens

Chapter 20. Beetles Nightmare

Chapter 21. Loss of a Niece

Chapter 22. Bill's Temporary Stay

Chapter 23. Bill n Ford's makeup

Chapter 24. Steve's Tease Ass Kiss

Chapter 25. Job Hunting & Relization

Chapter 26. Asking for Advice (from the worst person)

Chapter 27. Pretty Princess Shiny Red Dress 💄👑✨️

Chapter 28. Pretty Princess Shiny Black Dress 🖤👑✨️

Chapter 29. Bittersweet Confession

Chapter 30. THE KISS 😱😱😱

Chapter 31. I Need You

Chapter 32. Unwanted Visitor

Chapter 33. Kidnapping

Chapter 34. A Deal with Frills

Chapter 35. A Helping Hand

Chapter 36. Bill's Visit

Chapter 37. Beetle Gets Home

Chapter 38. Pink Paper

Chapter 39. Talking

Chapter 40. The Photo

Chapter 41. Comfort

Chapter 42. Seed of Distrust

Chapter 43. Tears over Beers

Chapter 44. O' Sadley's

Chapter 45. The MANAGERS

Chapter 46. Steve ✨️awakes✨️ (again..)

Chapter 47. Beetle ✨️awakes✨️

Chapter 48. Starling's missing (non-wholesome Billford)

Chapter 49. Starling's missing (wholesome beetletie)

(Beetletie is the ship name for Beetle @cipherjuice-bioexorist × Steve @imthebestcharacter618)

SO PLEASE, STAY TUNED TO SEE A EUCLIDEAN SUFFERING!

[tigersharktheautisticseawing]

first murdle post ever, but man do I have to yap about vol 1 or else I'll explode (spoilers below cut)

So I got vol 1 back in November when my sister (whom I love with all my heart (remember this I'll yap more about it later)) saw it in an empik and was like "Yeah my autistic gay sisbling thing would love this book" and got it for me. Also fun fact, I saw the book in Empik like a week or so earlier but I decided to pass up on it in favor of books that I was sure I wanted (rookie mistake, fortunately I've got big sis to correct it <3).

Then I got to what I think was about riddle 25-30 before putting it down for like 2-3 months (Epic the musical entered my life with a bang about that time and is only now slowly letting me go from its clutches).

Now, about a week ago, if not less, I saw this book again in my travel backpack and was like "You know what? I really do want a good puzzle." and began solving it at home and bringing it to school with me.

Then puzzle 50 happened.

Up until that point I genuinely thought this book was just some loreless riddles and I didnt discover the lore for a while (before the hiatus but a good week at least from when I got it innitially), so imagine my fucking suprise when the answer to riddle 50 cointained some of the least veiled gay angst I've ever seen in a physical book. Actually scratch that, the least veiled gay angst I've ever seen in a physical book.

So I was like "holy shit I gotta go on ao3 right fucking meow" and found many a fic with the lovely oxymorons ship (well, as many as our sadly ridiculously tiny fandom can produce) and began a-reading.

About that point I started seeing stuff like "spoilers for riddles 75/95/100/etc" and I was like "man tf is happenning in riddle 95 dawg"

(side tangent, I solved the irratino+mr.shadow plot twist in like riddle 61 or whichever was the one where shadow was the culprit with the "fammiliar laugh". Fun enough, just before that in the very same fucking riddle I noticed that we are given different information on mr.shadow at different times and stockpiled the info I found, which left me missing only his height, and upon seeing the phrase "fammiliar laugh" my neurons fucking fired and I frantically skimmed the book to find that one case around 36 with Irratino as a suspect to find his case file and sure e-fucking-nough all the info matched except for the missing height, which couldn't match due to being missing, and I was this close to screaming out loud (which I couldn't cuz I was in some class at the time))

So I work my way through chapter 4 like a champ, the autism helping for once, feeling proud of myself for basically never needing hints.

Then case 91 rolls around and I get hopelessly stuck.

It was last weekend when I was at my dad's house (split custody) and I genuinely could not figure out the suspect statements, even after using the hint, and was so close to just checking the answer that I decided to just take a break.

Then, on what I presume to be Monday, I got it.

It was late but my night owl mind was sharp and I was kinda embarassed for not figuring it out earlier, but hey, autism was cooperating for a suspiciously long amount of time, so my defeat shouldn't've been a suprise at all.

Then, between 11 PM and 1 AM I solved cases until case 97 (it was late at then and I was fucking tired (pretty sure I had to go to school at 8 am as well)) and had fun

And when case 95 rolled around I was really excited to see my boys hanging out finally and bonding further, but the detective code made me really curious.

So, somewhere between the witching hour and 1 in the morning, I painstakingly flipping what seemed to be the entire fucking book back and forth for every letter I needed to decode. I was extremely excited to find the answer, and giddy because I love a good mental challenge.

I got the gist of the message about halfway in, but refused to believe it until I got the whole thing decoded.

"[on zaczął] się w nim zakochiwać"

"[he started] to fall in love with him"

I was so close to screaming, because I genuinely expected the oxymorons to be this thinly-veiled thing that isn't ever stated outright but is also never denied, and yet here I was, staring at the words that seemed to burn into my retinas with their simplicity and message.

And, as the dust settled in my brain, one thing hit me.

Holy shit it's canon

I finished the book in its whole glory on a PE lesson on Wednesday, and immediately knew I needed to get the second book right fucking now.

Yet, poland continues to be poland, and as I input the book into my Empik app to find which store has vol 2, I am met with the answer of Westfield Mokotów, which is about an hour away by public transport. Coincidentally, that same trip by car happens to be only about half that time, leading me to devise my epic plan

Ask Mom if she'll drive me there

If yes, let Mom drop me off and get the book (success!)

If no, go there by public transport and get the book myself (longer, but still success!)

Well, after my mom came home literally as I was writing the texts to her, I presented the plan, which got interrupted by Mom giving me three pieces of information:

That mall is close to my mom's workplace

She cant get me the book today, but she could the next time she'll be working stationally (she works from home most of the time to take care of me and lil' sis and the dog better + it's more convienient)

My big sister's workplace just so happens to be not far from the same mall as well

So, plan now revised, I go to my chat with sis and ask her.

I did not even start typing the actual logistics before she agreed to buy it for me. Not to drop me off there, not to take the money from me so it's like I'm buying it anyway, but to actually buy it for me.

So, after writing something along the lines of "OMG TYSM ILYSM!!!!!! <3 <3 <3" and her writing back that she'll get it on Thursday when she goes to work stationally again, I walk away on could nine and go scrolling this very tag for content of my precious idiots.

Thursday (today) rolls around, and my day is okay. Math test first period, but I'm math autistic so I came in late and finished first, instead of english the six of us in our split class group go listen to a lady present a powerpoint about forest day to some year 0's (zerówka) and then chill (I'm mostly filling in the spots in vol 1 where I haven't written out the murdlers by word yet).

Then, two lessons from the end, we have commonroom period (godzina wychowawcza, with your assigned class teacher yapping on about something). We didn't talk about anything since there was a poem contest due Friday and our Polish teacher guilted homeroom teach into letting us make the poems (I wasnt making one, but like at least two people did and there was a grand total of like 12 of us so yk), and towards the end of my lesson I started feeling weird. I went to the bathroom and felt cold, so I grabbed my coat from my locker, and yet I still felt cold. And not oh-no-too-cold cold, but I-am-having-a-fever-so-everything-else-seems-cold-by-comparison cold.

(Forgot to mention, but just before commonroom my sis texts me that she got the goods and that I can just drop by and pick it up anytime. This is important for later.)

Then, just before WOS (wiedza o społeczeństwie, it's like politics jr and stuff), I ask my teacher to let me go to the nurse. Long story short, waited 15 min for her to tell me I'm fever-free, so I got back to class, still feeling queasy, and do the lesson stuffs (fortunately it was just a question sheet that our teacher was just actively telling us how to fill in and giving us good grades for that + 2 quizzes on knock-off kahoot, so it was chill)

Back at home I'm feeling queasier than ever (plus dog almost gets run pver by a bike on the fucking sidewalk right in front of the gate to our house), so I take my temperature, and, wouldn't you know it, 37.8C (deep in fever territory for the americans).

So I text my sis a pic I took of the thermometer with the caption "Me sick".

AND THAT ANGELIC CREATURE FUCKING DECIDED TO DROP IT OFF TOO!?!?!?!?

Like, our next texts were just me saying variations of "TYSM ILYSM <3 <3 <3 <3" cause she was doing me so much favors this week oh gods

And now as I sit here, unstarted yet vol 2 under my arm...

I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT TO START!!!!!

Happy to be her with y'all <3

[armandposting]

okay I've gotten about halfway through, which I think actually covers most of the sexual violence. i intend to come back for the second half in a reblog of this post, as I can't remember for sure if there's more sexual violence there and either way want to mark the particularly disturbing physical violence in the second half.

page numbers for sexual and physical violence in The Vampire Armand

using Ballatine Books mass market paperback, first edition (2000). I've used both page and chapter numbers so hopefully this is somewhat usable even with other copies. if you want to just blanket avoid the worst of the sexual stuff, I'd advise just skipping chapters 2-5, although you will miss most of the Venice years by doing this.

use notes:

if you don't want to know anything of what happens, just use the page numbers and don't read the descriptions. the descriptions specify what happens in each scene I've marked. I've tried to balance accurately covering everything that happens so people can effectively use the descriptions as a risk assessment without going into too much detail.

sex scenes in this book tend to be pretty esoterically described with a lot of flowery euphemisms, though to an adult reader it's clear what's happening. i have used the word rape to describe various sex acts occurring even when armand doesnt understand exactly what's happening or is enjoying it. I havent specified which sex acts are happening in these notes.

during the Venice years, armand sleeps in marius's bed and is frequently held and kissed by him, but I haven't marked all mentions of this, only times when sex acts or particularly erotic blood sharing is involved.

the other violence tends to be more graphic/directly described than the sex and I've noted those scenes as well.

to avoid confusion I've referred to armand as "armand" throughout, even though he doesn't get that name until later in the book.

armand is about 15 when marius first buys him and about 17 by chapter 4. he's turned later in his 17th year. most of the sex happens between these two events, the majority in chapter 4. 

the page numbers do not necessarily pick up every time that armand thinks about these things happening to him in passing or their impacts on him, so even skipping all of these pages is not going to be completely trigger-free.

chapter 2, pages 29-35: description of armand first being sold after his abduction from Kiev, slightly more descriptive than what's told in the show. we're told that he's raped, beaten, and eventually begins to refuse food and drink, but it's not described in detail, except for a brief description of other boys in the brothel molesting him. 36-37: marius takes armand to his house and bathes him. he rapes armand in the tub. 51-52: marius rapes armand.

chapter 3, page 66: marius and armand are intimate, unclear whether sex occurs or if it's particularly charged blood sharing. 67-71: armand tries to offer sex to marius, they share blood several times. 73: more blood sharing, only briefly described.

chapter 4, pages 74-75: marius drops armand off at a brothel so that he can learn about sex. multiple sex acts between armand and the sex workers are briefly described. 76: after marius picks armand up again, he lets armand mimic some of the things from the brothel on him. they share blood. 78-79: marius drops armand off at another brothel, this time with boys and eunuchs. multiple sex acts are described. 80-82: armand "lets himself be seduced" by an englishman at least twice his age, they have sex and the englishman threatens to kill him. armand doesnt feel particularly threatened by this at the time and leaves. 83-86: upset by the experiences described above, armand goes to bianca, who is a friend of his, and they have sex. armand feels guilty and sees it as a "rape" and a "ravaging" but bianca participates and isn't upset about it. (note: bianca's age is never really clear to me; she's younger than marius appears to be but runs her own household.) 92-97: marius beats armand with a switch. armand pretends to enjoy it for a while to piss him off. marius only stops when armand is bleeding and thinks he won't be able to walk. marius then undresses armand and heals the wounds, hitting armand a few more times when he talks back. all of this is very sexually charged. marius eventually rapes him and they share blood. in my opinion the most upsetting scene in terms of sexual violence.

chapter 5, pages 114-131: this scene is kind of a doozy but I'll try to hit the main points. marius has brought armand along to kill a group of men who have been forcing bianca to poison people. the men hit on armand and try to give him gifts for sex. some of them start touching him before marius starts killing people. one of the men continues to come onto armand who starts to get increasingly upset. marius asks if armand will have sex with the man as his dying wish, unclear if he's joking. the last man alive asks for a kiss, armand, now extremely upset, kisses him on the cheek but the man turns his head to kiss his mouth. marius, after killing the last man, berates armand about the value of human life or whatever and kisses armand several times. 138-144 [this is split over the end of chapter 5 and the beginning of 6]: the englishman armand previously had sex with comes to the palazzo in a jealous rage and kills several of the other boys. some are noted to be as young as seven. armand fatally stabs the englishman and is wounded with his poisoned blades. I've ended the page numbers after the fight is over but armand continues to be dying from the poison for the rest of chapter 6 and 7.

chapter 8 is when armand is turned, but it's not particularly sexually charged for once.

nothing else of note up to chapter 10, which is where I'll pick up for part two.

[boundwithpurple]

again i had a breakthrough that command of time is why all my writing is so frustrating to me. i am writing discrete little moments, single conversations or incidents, maybe with mental movement to considering the past but without any grand sweep. and there is nothing against this categorically - i known writers who can make whatever 15 minutes of human interaction THRILLING. but that’s not, historically, how i conceive of fiction or execute it. it makes me feel so boxed in and frustrated.

take my magicians bodyswap fic. each chapter, as i set out to write it, had a very particular span of time in mind. and those times could be smaller or larger, but deciding it and executing it was pretty effortless. take the beginning of chapter 3;

Shortly after the one-two punch of Alice breaking up with Quentin and Quentin turning around and imploding his oldest friendship, Quentin has two significant conversations.

and that’s true. quentin has two significant conversations. i did not feel limited because that is just what was needed at the time. but I could do other things, like one of my favorite chapters (2) where quentin, well:

The account Quentin Coldwater might have given of his first year at magic grad school at 4:36 p.m. on March 9, 2016, went something like this:

it’s about 5k, we move through quentin’s first year at brakebills up through march. it’s effective because it’s so limited because quentin like literally does not have the imaginative tools to understand what has actually occurred during that span of time. this entire fic is about giving those tools to him so he can understand his own life. by being swapped into his friends’ bodies.

or chapter 8, which gives an account of ELIOT’S year, which is also limited, because it is an account of, well:

The thing is that Eliot knows. He knows that he has lost his entire fucking mind. He’s come to bear the special burden of the lunatic who is granted agonizing periods of lucidity just clear enough to fully assess his sad state and just long enough for the horror of it to screamingly sink in. One unremarkable day a boy walked towards Eliot in what is as close to a paradise as Eliot is likely to get—1) not Indiana 2) magic that made acquiring a) expensive clothes b) good drugs and c) gay sex all very easy to facilitate, 3) Margo—and he’d had been blissfully unaware that the boy was actually not a boy but a grenade in a sexy boysuit flung into his serene and satisfying existence to characteristic obliterating effect. Eliot very well should have been easy: because there shouldn’t be a grenade, because it’s inconceivable that someone with the name of Quentin Makepeace Coldwater should threaten his sleep, his libido, and his very sanity.

limited, yet…VAST. an account of eliot’s erotic obsession which also gives you a dizzying view of his many, many emotional hangups. WHY he wants to fuck THIS guy and why he won’t let himself and what this does to him also tells you everything about him. he has a lot of conversations within this, but the scope is large, it speeds up and slows down at will, other things are braided in.

all great! i am god! i command this fic! and this has in large part vanished with my hotd fic. not to its detriment in the fic up through early january 2024. i was mostly doing more tightly contained stuff - each chapter covers like, whatever conversation or sexual interaction it covered in real time. but i didn’t notice i was doing it, it really arose naturally to meet what i was going for. and the breaks in this (like chapter 7 of rūs riña, which is both 15 minutes and also daemon’s whole life!) were possible and highly deliberate.

but now.

this.

has.

VANISHED.

like my next chapter of wife, mistress, queen, which i have 3k of written and that i hate. alicent has 3 conversations over the course of one, and also running through the 3 conversations is what is at the back of all of them, which is the past troublesome year in her sex life, which in turn is standing in for a lot of other things. so like, ok i definitely know how it handle this material engagingly. this is my wheelhouse. and it feels like, formerly, i would be going about this very differently from how i in fact am, which is just grinding through each conversation chronologically and it all feels so incredibly insert and dull. there is some far more entertaining and compelling way to put this together and i literally have forgotten how to do it. you will have to trust the problem is not that she doesn’t in fact need to have these conversations or that i have made some narrative error in terms of focus. the fact is i have become like, limited, by doing something which for a long time was not limiting, but now that it is the force of habit mostly means i have lost the mental architecture that once allowed me to do this easily. like i can see what i have written, and what it needs to look like, but that ideal vision is like also so blurred i can’t make out the individual words that will get me there.

[lavastories]

UPDATE!!!Everything I’m Currently Reading to Completed to Everything on my Interactive TBR!

LOL, brace yourself guys this is gonna be a pretty long list from all of my interactive platforms across the grid. This will be going by apps with list of stories.

What I completed reading will be in red crossed out. What I’m currently reading will be in green. What’s on my TBR will be in pink. And what I’m considering to read will be in orange. And what I’m unsure about will be in purple. And what I’ll drop reading will be in blue. And undecided will be in black.

Romance Club

1. And The Haze Will Take Us

2. 7 Brothers

3. Astrea’s Broken Heart

4. The One: Vol 2

5. Garden of Eden

6. Soulless

7. W: Time Catcher

8. Song of the Crimson Nile

9. Elite Tag

10. The Desert Rose

11. Vying for Versailles

12. Psi

13. The One: Vol 1

14. Hell and High Water

15. Theodora

16. The Flower from Tiamat’s Fire

17. Heart of Trespia

18. Gladiator Chrronicles

19. Seduced by the Rythum

20. Arcanum

21. Shadows of Sanitfour

22. Sophie’s Ten Wishes

23. Path of the Valkyrie

24. Love from Outer Space

25. Dracula. A Love Story

26. Legend of the Willow

27. Wave Patrol

28. Queen in 30 Days

29. Sails in the Fog

30. Heaven’s Secret- Requiem

31. Kali: Flame of Samsara

32. Love, Sin, & Evil: Vol 1

33. Chasing You 2

34. Heaven’s Secret 2 (Currently rereading for LI)

35. Kali: Call of Darkness

36. On Thin Ice

37. Sins of London

38. Rage of the Titans

39. Heaven’s Secret

40. Chasing You

41. My Hollywood Story

42. Moonborn

43. The Thunderstorms Saga

44. Shakespeare's Code

45. The Parallel Universes Bureau

46. The Missing

CHAPTERS (Keep in mind this app has SOOOO many books, so I’ll be putting the one’s I’ve started, all 27 books. I see to which ones I’ll be continuing, finished read, on my TBR, or not going to continue.)

1. Paying My Dues - Story by ME

2. Knocked Up By the Hockey Team

3. Bride of Anubis

4. Bad Boy Blues

5. Dangerous Guilty Pleasure - User Story

6. My Best Friend’s Baby

7. Having the Convict’s Baby

8. I Lost My Innocence to the Mafia Boss

9. Slashes In The Snow

10. Hot Hot Hate

11. Ruined

12. Pregnant by my Ex’s Dad

13. Addicted

14. My First Time - User Story

15. Our Story - User Story

16. The Darkest Kiss

17. Emergency Engagement

18. Night Prince 3: Bound by Flames

19. Love In the Deep End

20. COLE

21. Seven Day Fiancé

22. Burn for Me

23. The Dark Ones

24. Promise Me - User Story

25. Nico: A Mafia Romance

26. HALO

27. Waking up Pregnant

Choices (For the sake of the post, I’ll keep the books for this general and away from the VIP books. However, only will have the books of the VIP books that became wide release)

1. The Ghost of Us

2. BloodBound Series

3. The Royal Romance Series

4. The Nanny Affair Series

5. Rules of Engagement Series

6. Open Heart Series

7. Laws of Attraction Series

8. Roommates With Benefits

9. The Royal Masquerade

10. With Every Heartbeat

11. Rising Tides

12. Hot Shot

13. Alpha

14. Dirty Little Secrets

15. The Billionaire’s Baby

16. Surrender

17. Untameable

18. Shipwrecked

19. Kiss of Death

20. Wolf Bride

21. Witness: A Bodyguard Romance

22. Endless Summer Series

23. Hero

24. The Heist: Monaco

25. The Phantom Agent

26. Most Wanted

27. Across the Void

28. Ship of Dreams

29. Desire and Decorum Series

30. A Courtesan of Rome

31. Distant Shores

32. The Duchess Affair

33. Murder at Homecoming

34. High School Series

35. My Two First Loves

36. Ride-or-die: A Bad Boy Romance

37. The Elementalists Series

38. HSS: Class Act Series

39. Immortal Desires Series

40. Wake the Dead

41. It Lives Series

42. Nightbound

44. Haunting of Braidwood Manor

45. Perfect Match Series

46. Foreign Affairs

47. Mother of the Year

48. Bachelorette Party

49. Kindred

50. Blades of Light and Shadow Series

51. The Cursed Heart Series

52. The Crown & Flame Series

53. Guinevere

54. Baby Bump Series

55. First Comes Love

56. A Very Scandalous Proposal

57. LoveHacks Series

58. Passport to Romance

59. Along Came Treble

60. Red Carpet Diaries Series

61. America’s Most Eligible Series

62. Hot Couture

63. Platinum

64. Slow Burn

65. Queen B Series

66. The Freshman Series

67. Wishful Thinking

68. Getaway Girls

69. The Deadliest Series

70. Crimes of Passion Series

71. Veil of Secrets

72. The Unexpected Heriess

73. Big Sky Country Series

74. Ms. Match

75. Save the Date

76. The Princess Swap

77. Home for the Holidays

78. Guarded

79. Hearts on Fire Series

80: Open Heart Series

Episode (So just like Chapters, keeping it close to my history. Because there is so many books)

1. The Mafia Bride

2. Eat Me Up

3. Flirting with the Villian

4. Barely Mine

5. Rule Breaker

6. Tempting Devil

7. Playing Princess

8. Blood Lust

9. Pregnant by a Vampire: The Curse

10. The Gamer Girl

11. Love Life

12. It’ll Be Our Secret

13. Feel Me

14. VAMPS & HUMANS

15. Behind His Mask

16. Unexpectedly Expecting

17. Kidnapped by a Prince

Journeys (This app specifically is more like the more stories you read the more books you’ll have access to. So, I’ll list the ones I have so far.)

1. Linda Brown Series

2. Recipe of Love

3. Don’t Forget Me

4. Love Lessons

5. Vampyra

6. #3SUM

My Candy Love (This app is pretty much one story but progressing with the MC life, which I love!)

1. My Candy Love: High School

2. My Candy Love: College Life

3. My Candy Love: Adulting

5. My Candy Love: Alternate Life

6. My Candy Love: Next Gen

Another World’s History (Wasn’t long since I discovered this app. Fairly new to me like some others that will be in this post but it’s great.)

1. My Name Is Hope

2. Neoxites: Child of Light

3. Codex of Consistency

4. Speculum

5. Parallels

6. Chimera

Forbidden Fruit (This app is very new. They only have 4 books so far. And I haven’t gotten around to reading any of them. So they are all on my TBR)

1. The Legacy of Rosefield

2. Undermind

3. Ghostpice

4. Daughter of the North Wind

League of Dreamers (Discovered this app not too long ago.)

1. Laws of the Beast

2. Wondering Spirit

3. Lullaby of Witches

4. Tablet of Isis

5. The Seal of Nostradammus

6. Silence of the Sea

7. Blooming Garden

8. Chronicles of Ark Dryden

9. Gates of Samhain

YourStoryLand (Discovered this app just recently, and it’s also fairly new as well. Most of the books are on my TBR and my not sure list)

1. Rock Wave

2. Audrey’s Dairy

3. Blue Abuss

4. Behind The Wall

5. The Lily of the Sands

6. City of Nightmares

Real Love (This app freshly discovered with 4 books. Haven’t started any of the books yet. Most are on the TBR.)

1. Look Around

2. Lame

3. The Codex of a Chess Player

4. Empire of Shadows

Seven Hearts Stories (This app recently made 2 years with 8 books. I honestly do like this app and have started reading one book from this app.)

1. The Deadly Biome

2. Illusion of Fame

3. Legend of the Celestials

4. The Era of Fatum

5. The Villain’s Last Wish

6. Mission Fortune

7. The Heart of Atlantean

8. Bride for a Vampire

TWISTMAX! (This app I freashly discovered just last week. Already started one book from there. And I got most on my TBR.)

1. Billionaire’s Revenge

2. Happily Ever After

3. The Boy Next Desk

4. Love & Scandal

5. Ace!

6. My Prince

7. Princess Escape

8. Touched by Love

9. The Prince’s Consultant

10. Threads of Desire

11. Love to Hate

12. All His Secrets

13. About Last Night

14. The Price of Polanco

15. Surprise Husband

16. Tutoring the Football Star

17. Freshman Flirt

18. Living With Guys

19. Undercover Lover

20. Broadway Baby

21. Forbidden Island

22. His Melody

23. Hometown Hookup

24. Lone Star Lovers

25. Go Fur Gold

26. Blood Red Moon

27. Stuck in the Past

28. A Powerful Choice

29. Handcuff Him!

30. Sultry on Set

31. Seduce Me, Senator

32. Chef’s Kiss

33. Dirty Work

34. Cold Case Chemistry

Dream Zone (Also discovered this last week. Haven’t started a story from here yet. So wee will leave all of the stories undecided.)

1. Hostel Story Series

2. Singles in Your Area

3. Half Human Series

4. Wildest Dreams Series

5. Behind the Counter Series

6. Teaching Undercover Series

7. Going Places Series

8. Incognito Mode Series

9. The Impossible Game Series

10. Devil’s Deal Series

11. Project Prometheus Series

12. Rogue Gang Series

13. Man for Hirer Series

14. Ubers Series

15. Time and Time Again Series

16. Colorblind Series

17. My Bloody Classmates Series

18. The Lookalikes Series

19. Honeywood Series

20. Family Business Series

21. Therapy Sessions Series

And the rest of the stories I read are single story apps which are…

1. Havenless

2. Dangerous Fellows

3. Killing Kiss

4. Henri’s Secret

5. Uncoven

I do plan to keep this list and update it with time. But I am happy I have this list so I can update as I go and keep ya’ll up to date. But this is going to be hella fun. Feel free to have this list if you are also using the same app as myself.

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets.

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

1. 2.  3.  4.  5.  6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25.26. 27. 28. 29.30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. FINAL.

26. Crazy Plant-Lady (This chapter and the previous inspired by "Accidents Happen" by exai_lostjune on Ao3. Go read it. Fantastic fic).

“What’s this about?”  Steve asked.  “My charms win you over?”  “Hardly,” Rem said sarcastically.  “Didn’t think so.  So why’d you call me over?”   “Just wanted to talk.”  The two of them regarded each other in a way only people with a shared trauma could.  They looked past each other’s eyes and saw blood.  Steve took a step forward and Rem took a step back.  Rem was very aware of her smallness right now.  She was pretty strong from working with ship-equipment but Steve’s muscles were like boulders.  He could easily break her if he had half a mind to and took a lapse in judgement.  “It’s about the boys,” Rem continued. “What about ‘em?”  Rem’s gaze narrowed.  “Don’t play dumb.  I know.  Knives’ tooth was broken out.  Vash had bruises.”  “What did they tell you?!”  Oooh, the tone was defensive.  He might as well have made a confession.    “Nothing at all,” Rem replied, “but you just told me everything.  You’re going to leave them alone now.”  “Why should I?  Gonna smooch up to the captain, sweetcheeks?  They regenerate.  They’re Plants.  We both know that we could be doing a lot more with them, learnin’ from ‘em.  Back on my uncle’s farm, we were never allowed to name the livestock – you get too attached.”  “So beating them is just your sick little experiment?”  “It’s keeping brats outta places they ought not be. They’re dangerous! We should just stuff ‘em in bulbs and have done with it!”  “Leave them alone.”  “Make me.”  Steve laughed as he watched Rem back up another step.  She was shrinking from him.  “I thought so,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a wicked smile. He grabbed her by the wrist, threatening to break her arm with a sharp twist. The two of them were up against Rem’s closet. “Do you want to know why I named one of them ‘Knives?” she asked, reaching behind herself with her other hand.  With that, she took Alex’s bat and cracked Steve in his right shin.  He roared with the unexpected agony.  “I promised…” Rem continued, giving him a quick strike to the ribs as he tried to get up, “…to defend them,” a blunt thrust to the solar plexis with the end, “with the fury of millions of knives!”  Steve lurched up and tried to find Rem with his outstretched hands, his imagination bent upon her slender neck.  He didn’t even think about the repercussions of strangling the life out of her.  That was a problem for Future Steve.  He got a crack straight across the skull – in the jaw, loosening a few teeth.  He spat out one with a gout of blood.  He reached up and the bat slammed into his left arm. The bone did not break, but the impact reverberated through it.  It HURT.  Rem had a surprising amount of strength for her size.  Someone had taught her to be a slugger.    Steve crawled on his hands and knees.  “No…no more,” he begged.  “Crazy Plant-lady.”  “That’s right,” Rem said, hefting Lex Lightning over her shoulder.  “You’re not going to be hurting my boys anymore.”  “Gonna report you. Crazy bitch…”  “Not if I report you for what you did to the kids first.  This is not the first time we’ve been made to be keepers of secrets, has it?  It was VERY clumsy of you to be drinking and watching your spicy holotapes in the Engine Room, wasn’t it?  You didn’t watch the stairs.  Besides, aren’t you looking forward to being treated by Mary?  I am sure she’ll be extra gentle with you.” 

[jtl-fics]

One time @halfpintpeach got me obsessed with the song Pretty Boy so just saying you gotta listen to it too. Also pretty boy please 🙏- @neilimfinejosten

WIP Wednesday 3/20/24 (Closed) | Pretty Boy

The light turns green and he drops the phone into the cupholder again no bothering to respond. Neil seems quite content to just be in the same car as Andrew as he hasn't even asked where they're going. Perhaps his junkie is more like a dog than he is a rabbit.

"Do you want to go for a ride?" elicits just about the same amount of joy in Neil that he's seen dogs experience.

Neil needs to be walked about as much too.

Make Me Write - 4/10/24 WIP Wednesday

[cressthebest]

Tender Curiosities, Baby! thoughts pt. 4

chapter 5:

1. awww rosekiller are about to do their gay little outside the plane moment <333

2. the way barty thinks that james and reg are about to fuck behind the divider in the plane 😭😭😭 no babes they’re sobbing

3. 😳 i forgot they were absolutely unhinged for a moment and WOULD murder the mole despite james and reg’s wishes

4. awww we get to see reg being all soft about the house in brazil <333

5. WAIT NO STARTED SOBBING CAUSE I JUST REMEMBERED REG NEVER GETS TO BE THE ONE TO SHOW JAMES THE HOUSE IN BRAZIL

6. oh my god barty is being jealous of evan calling james pretty boy. maybe i like a little jealousy in fics, sue me.

7. god i fucking hate lucius. just felt like it needed to be said

8. oh shit, they’re gonna blame reg’s death on themselves because instead of finding out more about tom riddle, they’re celebrating an engagement and having a little fun

9. fuck i know i’ve already read the copenhagen swap and know what happens, but i’m not ready

10. thank fucking GOD evan finally got to murder lucius

11. 😳😳 oh my god. now, kink shame me if you must, for the horrible timing of this, but god, i bet sirius looked so hot. like picture long curly black hair loose and over his shoulder and his eyes are mad with rage as his hands and arms are splattered with blood as he’s trying to puncture tom riddle’s throat with his bare hands.

12. this chapter is making me cry again, jesus fuck

13. sitting in the blistering hot shower, completely clothed while drinking straight from a bottle of whiskey- the author is correct. that IS the way that barty would mourn

14. “Regulus would answer. He’d pick up. He always picks up when Evan calls. Always.

The phone rings and rings.

And rings.”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN REGULUS DIDNT PICK UP THIS TIME??? OF COURSE HE ANSWERED THE PHONE!! HES NOT DEAD!! HE CANT BE DEAD!

15. “Barty gets violently ill the next day and Evan sleeps for 36 hours straight.” um. hello. that’s a coma babes. evan went into a coma. holy shit

16. 😳😳 barty just broke down and yelled at peter so bad, that i’m actually scared

17. hmmmm barty has a list of rituals now to help with the pain. the showering. the tea making. that’s an odd way of grief and it mimics my own, in terms of rituals. i’m curious about this.

18. oh god, not barty finding comfort in being around sirius because sirius says and does things that remind him of reg. that’s. wow.

19. “Love had always been a violent thing for people like Barty and Evan. It was hardly ever tender or soft.” oh god, it’s no longer tender curiosities. that. that title is powerful, holy shit

20. oh god crying again. james just ndjdjsjdksks james jsut offered to do everytbjng that regulus did for evan and barty. like bailing them out of jail and all that. i— i’m not okay

21. oh my fucking god they left. this is so sad. how can this be jsut as sad as the first time i read ahb. this is ridiculous. i’m not okay

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 3 - Canning Town Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 2 Summary: Flirting, Leicester Square station mixtape, flowers and breakdowns in the cantina. Or another chapter of an unlikely liaison. Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language and imagery and more outrageous flirting. Author's Notes: Chapter a month might just be the new deal here, apologies. And this one's long, by which I mean over 11k 💁🏻‍♀️ It also seems like now that I've started, I can't stay away from Neil's POV so... yeah. Look out for a cheeky cameo too 😉 Other than that, I can assure you this is just as chaotic and ridiculous as the last chapter. These two are in full control, I'm just a mere scribe, doing my best. Hopefully it works. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Incorporating Neil into your daily (and weekly) life was easy. Almost terrifyingly so if you did as much as stop and think about it. Perhaps the self-preservation rooted deep within forbade you to reflect on it. Which, in hindsight, was a good thing.

After that first victory of obtaining Neil’s number, you did not hold back from texting and bombarding him with daily nonsensical memes that could have driven a different man to madness. Neil, however, took it in his stride. It was rare not to get a reply from him after longer than an hour. And that boosted your courage like nothing else.

Some days, the conversations went like this:

/ 🏹, 12:07 pm/ Show me what socks are you wearing.

/✝️, 12:13 pm/ Jesus, that’s forward.

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ That’s basically my second name. So?

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ I swear I won’t sell the pic on OF.

/✝️, 12:20 pm/ Well, if you do, then at least share the earnings with me.

Although you started the ridiculous conversation, when the next text came, consisting of a single image of a socked ankle bared by the familiar hand pulling up the pant leg, you nearly dropped the coffee cup in the middle of the Covent Garden. It was just an ordinary Tuesday lunchtime, with the square bustling with sound and movement. Using the rare sunny September day, you escaped the confines of the Royal Opera House to have your coffee break on the kerb. Thanks to the dwindling sense of coherence, you did not drop said coffee when you opened the photo. The socks you had asked for were black with a grey argyle pattern. But that was where the normalcy ended, for the rhombuses were filled with corgi heads. The brown-beige dogs stared at you through the screen with their beady eyes and were the reason for your hysterical laughter.

The overprotective mother tending to her children close by shot you a dirty look. Well, fuck her.

/ 🏹, 12:23 pm/ Neil, you’re too cute. Way too cute.

/✝️, 12:32 pm/ It’s what every guy wants to hear. Thanks, Cupid.

/ 🏹, 12:34 pm/ I never said you’re not hot, though. Which you very much are. So much that I thought of you when…

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ Yeah, don’t finish that sentence. Please.

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ I’d rather maintain my innocence.

/ 🏹, 12:36 pm/ As you wish 😘

That was not a lie. It was a result of yet another tiring day and an early night in bed when it was too early to sleep. So, you chose to fill the time like most women would, letting your thoughts drift to images and scenarios that always did the trick as your hand delved between your thighs. When you realised who you had been thinking of, the tension was so close to bursting that you did not try to shift the attention. When you came, the guilt was nowhere to be found.

After all, it was not a sin to think of pretty boys when taking the edge off. As soon as you realised that Neil did not take the flirty line seriously, that feeling of potentially having done something wrong became non-existent. It was fine. It was all fine.

Other times, especially during those Wednesday mornings on the Tube, your conversations looked more like this:

“I’ve got an invasive question…” changing the subject during your weekly chats was easy, for as soon as you set a weighty gaze on Neil, he sobered up too.

The endless questions did not seem to bother him either. Your boundless curiosity was particularly grateful for that.

“As long as you’re not going to ask me what underwear I’m wearing, I think we’re fine,” the poker face was only disturbed by Neil’s twitching lips, and the sparks danced in his eyes as he inclined his head in your direction, blessing you with the golden strands, “Shoot,”

Every time, you took a deep breath, silently gathering the courage to ask, and then let the question fall from your lips without a pause:

“When was the last time you’ve been in love?” the curiosity was all it was.

Yet still, Neil’s widening eyes made you consider that perhaps something else was underlining that desire to know. And that this question was different than others you had asked. Different from “Dogs or cats?” “Typical coffee order?” and “Any hidden talents?”. But it was too late to take it back.

“Oof, you weren’t joking” Neil seemed to shake it off quickly, only briefly offering you a glare before looking down to find the needed words, “Probably two-ish years ago…?” you were sure you had imagined the broken edge in his voice as Neil swallowed hard and continued “It was a disaster. She didn’t- Let’s just say I went in too hard and too fast, and she got scared. Pretty much ghosted me after a half-assed excuse” when he raised his head and meet your gaze, you could see the depths of hurt in his eyes.

Your heart felt pathetically hollow, but you smothered the feeling to nothing but an uncomfortable sting.

“Ouch,” a wince was easy enough to muster, and you followed it with an apology, “Sorry,” Neil’s crestfallen look was an inspiration for you to place your hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze “I know that it doesn’t help, but it’s her, not you” you knew the light statement was the right way to go when Neil cracked a wry smile and gave your other wrist a tap.

“Thanks,” it was evident enough to realise that Neil was eager to drop the subject. It was clearer still that you were going to be the next target, “I won’t ask you the same since I know better, but… Do you really think no one could change your view on love?” yet when the question fell in the space between you, it was not what you had expected.

The surprise must have painted on your face, for Neil looked a second away from taking it back. You stopped him from doing that the only way you could think of – by extending your hand in what was universally thought of as a ‘hold up’ motion. It was not that you did not want to answer. And it was not the first time someone had asked either.

But it was not something you were keen on inspecting and tearing apart to offer an honest answer. It was a fact, pure and simple. A fact that you would believe in till the day you died. There was no place for love in your life, and there would never be. Full stop.

“Yeah, I do,” you met Neil’s waiting gaze and offered him a weak shrug. The strange disappointment in his gaze made no sense, so you chose to ignore it to shift your attention to the world outside the carriage as it arrived at the next station. The belief in your next words was as tangible as anything else you could conceive, “It would take a miracle”.

He did not ask that question again.

Those Wednesday morning conversations also became a source of information, which you had stowed securely in the compartment of your brain labelled ‘Neil’. After almost two months of acquittance, you knew that he was born and raised a Londoner (from Richmond, the posh fuck [affectionate]), was decidedly a dog person and had a chocolate Labrador growing up (a girl named Daisy), listened to alt-rock and 80s music and was what he described as a hopeless romantic. You still did not know what he did for work, only that he was decidedly not a tattooist, literary agent, paramedic, jockey, art critic, dressmaker, choreographer, or bus driver. Whether he was truly not just a priest undercover was still up for debate.

***

Only when you fled the confines of the ordinary tiny London flat kitchen and felt the night breeze of the city on your skin, left bare from the jacket you did not yet put on, had the question of the ages pop into your head. What the fuck? There was no answer. You shook your head against the memories of what had just conspired and stopped on the pavement to put on and fasten the jacket. Even annoyed, you could still feel the biting cold begin to settle in your bones.

You never expected to bump into Liam. Never in a million years would you have considered that those two friends you shared would extend the invitation to that man out of all people. And you certainly did not expect him to come.

Although, as he had unhelpfully explained himself, he only showed up because of the chance you would be there. The audacity made you shake your head vehemently, without a doubt attracting a glare or two from those who remained sober at this hour. In Soho on Saturday night, that was unlikely.

You walked through the cobbled streets with the neon lights lighting your path without an aim or a map. The only objective was to stomp the frustration into the cracked pavement and end up home. Somehow. Specifics were to be determined later.

Sure, rushing out of your mate’s flat like a lightning bolt could be seen as impulsive. But Liam offered you no choice. The pleasant buzz of alcohol did nothing to stop the embarrassment, which grew worse by the minute. The long walk in an unknown direction was a sad but acceptable consequence. Or so you aimed to maintain.

By the time you had seriously begun to consider using the dwindling phone battery to order an Uber and save you from the penance of someone else’s transgressions, the red circle with a navy blue bar appeared on the horizon. Salvation, at last. You picked up the pace, eager to get out of the cold and that one step closer to home. This close to Leicester Square and the theatres just having closed their doors on the last patrons, the bustle seemed quieter somehow, more subdued. It was a blessing for your budding headache and a threat to the thoughts eager to appear with nothing suppressing them.

You crossed the road and descended the staircase with a sigh. The heat of the station enveloped you like a hug as you passed the ticketing gates and spent an unnecessarily long time staring at the Tube map. When the logic kicked in, at last, you rushed over to the correct platform.

Only to regret it as soon as the timing screen came into view. Heathrow Airport 25 mins. The polite PSA text below informed you the line was experiencing delays. No biggie. They were sorry. The usual shit. A curse litany lodged in your throat as your eyes roamed over the platform.

All the noise in your head faded to nothing when your gaze settled on that familiar blonde head of hair. He was sitting in one of the few chairs with his head bowed over his knees in a position so exemplary for a Saturday night in the glorious London town. You skimmed over his body, taking note of the casual jeans and a t-shirt, peeking from beneath the unbuttoned jacket.

Before you knew it, your legs had started carrying you in his direction, a goofy smile present on your face. The improbability of it happening made everything easier. Because what were the odds?

Instead of counting them, you approached Neil, still so blissfully unaware of your presence and delivered an opening line:

“Hello, Father,” the joke did not yet get old, and you still got the kick out of it.

Especially when Neil raised his head fast enough to give himself a whiplash and gasped from shock.

“Jesus- Oh, what the fuck?” clutching at his heaving chest with all the drama he could muster, Neil offered you a look so full of surprise you knew he did not expect this to happen either.

The only weekend plans you had discussed over texts were that you had a party to go to, and he was likely to go out with his workmates at some point. But that was it. Zero specifics, no need to share them because there was no need for either of you to know the details. And yet.

“Is that how you should greet a lady?” playing on his theatrical reaction, you feign a shocked expression.

It was clear you would fail at any attempts of annoyance. Your cheeks were already aching with that kind of wide, manic grin only Neil seemed to cause. You could see his eyes skim over your figure, taking in your clothes with that sort of precision only he seemed capable of. Finally, satisfied with what he saw, Neil raised his head to meet your gaze again and got up to bow lowly at your feet:

“Apologies, m’lady,” before you knew what he was doing, he took hold of your hand and kissed your knuckles. A move so fast you almost thought you had imagined it if not for the fading sensation of his lips still ghosting your skin, “What are you doing here?” with his hand lightly touching your elbow, Neil steered you towards the seats.

Only now, with the surprises fading into the background, you took note of the empty platform. It was just the two of you sitting on the creaky plastic chairs. You shifted an inch closer to Neil, seeking the warmth radiating off his body and replied:

“As I’ve mentioned, I had an invitation to this flat party in Soho… And I went, but then, and you’ll never believe that happened-” recounting the improbable story felt good, and you took pleasure in the attention Neil gave your every word.

“Let me guess… Liam showed up?” his interjection followed your dramatic pause flawlessly.

Of course, he got it. Of course, he guessed. You shook your head at his eager smile, aware of the glee in your eyes:

“Damn, you’re good” your low approving whistle reverberated in the space. Most shockingly, there was a certain level of joy in sharing the story, even as your skin crawled with the embarrassment of what transpired, “Yeah, and it turns out that getting blocked did not make him smarter. It became a whole thing, along with him getting down on his knees in the middle of a kitchen and proclaiming his undying love to me,” you wondered if Liam was still there, kneeling on the tiled floor and waiting for your return.

Partially, you hoped that was the case.

Throwing you out of the strange ruminations, Neil shook his head and offered you a serious look:

“Blimey,” his tsk almost got lost in the PA announcement, crackling from the speakers. When it ended, Neil met your gaze with a sympathetic smile, “No wonder you ran away,” his knee nudged yours, triggering something you would not understand even in months.

Sitting upright, you nodded fervently:

“I had to” the emotions you did not know were present poured out from your lips as the next words fell in the space between you, “And like- He doesn’t even know me? He never saw me on the stage, and he thinks that making me cum a couple of times is enough?” a frustrated growl tore from your chest as you finished the tirade with a tired sigh and simple punchline, “Bullshit,”

There was no time or willingness to take apart where all that anger came from or why it was suddenly so important Neil understood your reasons. It just was. Later it was easily blamed on the alcohol still present in your veins. For now, you met his gaze and shrugged, answering the questions he seemed too shy to ask.

“With that, I must agree. It’s bullshit” nudging you with his shoulder, Neil smiled, brightening the clouds that still seemed to hang over your mind.

You shot him a brilliant grin, brushing away the concerns with terrifying ease. They had to wait, ideally forever.

“Thanks, babe” sugar coated your smile as you allowed yourself to gaze, taking note of the blush spreading on his cheeks. Although you would never admit it out loud, the blue of his eyes was slowly becoming your favourite shade of the colour. It was that thought that triggered your next confession, “Admittedly, meeting you here is a highlight of the night,” you watched as his eyes grew wider, evidently not expecting to hear something that honest. The moment stretched for what felt like ages until you found the strength to look away, focusing on the timing screen and the issues it posed, “Though, those delays are bullshit, too” your eye-roll elicited an instant laugh, which only added warmth to the kindling sparks in your chest.

“Mhmm,” Neil’s hum acted like an anchor, tying you to reality.

It was a better place to get lost in than the chaos raging in your head. You chose to stick by it, following the easy way out with a simple question:

“How come you’re here?” you turned towards Neil, hoping to block the platform and the world beyond from view.

Even if just figuratively and for a short while. If the answering bright smile was anything to go by, Neil was happy to humour you:

“I’ve been out for drinks at a pub, but then our crowd isn’t very… boisterous, so we all went our separate ways, and here I am,” he signed off the summary with an explanatory shrug, but you should have kept your guard up. Once his gaze settled on you with an intensity of intent, a pathetic instinct kickstarted your heart with all the subtlety of trainwreck, “Bored as fuck until you’ve shown up” the joy in that simple sentiment was enough to make your cheeks heat up.

Of its own volition, your brain provided the fresh memory of how Liam’s attention in that cursed kitchen had made you feel. How running away was the only option you saw then. It was different now; the quiet focus of the man sitting next to you was a welcomed change. A company you were happy to keep. For however long you were allowed.

“How long do you think till it’s-” ignoring the shyness that did not seem happy to be buried in Neil’s company, you changed the subject with all the grace of an elephant.

It was evident in how you stuttered, quickly abandoning the idea of finishing the sentence and letting it trail off into the quiet. It was too early to raise your head from the depths of shame it was drowning in. It was all a little too much.

“Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour… or never,” Neil’s voice gained a cheeky edge as if conscious of your minor crisis and happy to offer a distraction.

You risked a peek at his face, finding the signature smirk gracing his face. That expression never failed to feel like a sharpened knife piercing through the walls of your uncertainty. It complimented his face too well, dragging the attention to Neil’s sharp features and his remarkable eyes that always felt like they could see right through your bullshit and the pretending. It was terrifying.

It was then, in the light of his frightening beauty, that you decided what to do next. What was necessary to keep you (moderately) sane. One look at your tote bag lying on your lap offered inspiration:

“Fab,” your dry comment elicited Neil’s laugh and sealed the deal on what you wanted to do next. There was no backing out. You straightened your spine and swivelled on the seat to face him fully. When your knees touched him, Neil’s eyes widened almost comically. But that was only the beginning of the wild ride for him, you were sure of it, “Well, then… Dance with me,” the delivery of that line required a special nonchalance.

One that required you to hold Neil’s gaze long after you had finished speaking, and the words had only just dawned on him. Once they did, his eyes got comically large, and his lips parted on what could only be a mute expression of horror. A giggle got trapped in your throat, but you fought valiantly against it. For now.

“Pardon?” Neil’s choked-out question came after sequenced opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming up.

Your poker face was tearing at the seams. Foolishly.

“Dance with me, Neil,” repeating the request (order?), you extended your hand towards him, signing off the invitation for what it was.

The shock was still present on his face. Despite that, Neil slipped his palm, warm and fitting perfectly, into yours. You could tell that it was not entirely conscious on his part.

You sure did not mind it, though.

“I might have had a drink or two, but I didn’t think I was drunk enough to be hearing things,” Neil’s incredulity bled into his tone as he stared you down as if hoping the sheer disbelief would be enough to deter you.

Tough luck.

“Come on,” squeezing his hand, you switched the tactic with a question, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” there was no judgment in your gaze, and you hoped Neil knew that.

If asked, you could not explain why that was something you wanted to do with him, there and then of all places. But it still felt important. Urgent, even.

The no-bullshit look you got in return almost made you burst into laughter.

“You’ll see me dance,” Neil deadpanned as if it was clear.

As if that was the peak horror that could befall him at your hands. Using the lifeline of your joined palms, you rubbed your thumb over the tender skin of his hand, hoping to let that act as a reassurance. That was a nonsensical fear to have.

Who gave you, a mediocre ballerina, the right to judge? Absolutely no one.

“And?” you offered Neil a brilliant grin, doing your best not to think about how right it felt to have his hand resting in yours.

That question seemed to catch his attention, pulling him back from the precipice of self-doubt. You watched as Neil pondered the answer, staring at you with that bright-eyed, anxious expression, complete with his teeth nibbling on his lower lip. He picked at the worried, fragile skin, and you did not think about soothing the damage with your tongue. Not at all.

“I don’t know… You’ll leave and block me?” when he finally found a plausible answer, it was the last thing you expected Neil to say.

Despite the seriousness on his face, you could not hold back the laugh that spilt from your lips. What an idiot [affectionate]. The adorable pout in his bottom lip was responsible for the recklessness you chose to implement.

Without thinking about it too much, you leaned in and used your free hand to cup his face, eradicating the remains of the gap between you. As your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, Neil gasped, barely disguising the sound with a cough. The grin spread over your face as you spoke:

“It takes a little more than that for me to block you,” that was true; you could barely fathom blocking Neil, least of all because of such a trivial reason. It was only after a beat that the second meaning of what he said sunk in. The meaning you expected Neil did not exactly consider slipping out like that. You grabbed it with both hands and a knowing smile, “Also… you enjoy talking to me that much?”

The jackpot shot came with a furious blush on his cheeks and an embarrassed scoff as Neil turned away from your watchful gaze. Your hands stayed linked. That, too, was an adorable reaction. It made that pleasant warmth in your chest burner brighter, though you refused to inspect it too closely.

Before you could consider pushing him for a reply further, Neil jumped up from the creaky seat and pulled you to standing using your tight handhold. The fake pep was visible from miles away, especially in that manic grin that almost seemed too wide on his face. But you did not have the time to question it.

“Okay, let’s just dance,” Neil tugged at your hand impatiently.

He did not seem capable of standing still, hopping from one leg to another. If that was a sign of what was coming, you knew you were not ready. Your eyes narrowed in what you hoped was a mildly threatening look:

“That’s a deflection tactic,” still, you took a step closer to him, finally putting that handhold to use.

“Yes, it is,” Neil nodded as his arms opened in a shrug.

That was your answer. You could only cement it with a smile as you allowed him to pull you closer, almost into his open arms, except-

“Wait, we need music,” remembering that crucial missing piece, you let go of his hand and darted back to the tote abandoned by the seats.

“No shit,” Neil’s dry comment was accompanied by the scuffling of his shoes over the cracked tiles.

You grinned, triumphantly holding out the speaker you had fished from the bag. That was the only pro you could think of that came from your earlier practice, and no time in between that and the disastrous party.

“Lucky for you, I came prepared,” you showcased it like a spoil of war and turned the speaker on, awaiting the sound confirming it had connected to your phone. When it came, you ceremoniously placed the device on the vacated seat and pressed play on your phone. Only once the music was playing, you turned back towards Neil with a flourish, “Voila,”

It took him an additional second to identify the song, the synthesizer filling the empty platform with a special kind of vibe. When the proper beat kicked in, you started shimmying your hips and shoulders to the rhythm, awaiting Neil’s reaction. You were not disappointed when he gaped at you with joy barely disguised underneath a frown:

“Really?” still, his foot started tapping with the singer’s voice.

Shrugging, you spun around him, feeling the music fill your body like it always did. You always felt the most alive when dancing. When your feet were following the choreography, and head was deliciously empty of everything but the musical notes and lyrics.

When you stopped to meet Neil’s gaze, you found him staring back in awe.

“What? It’s not me; it’s the holy spirit of the shuffle,” the song started heading towards the chorus, so you added the hand movements, orbiting around Neil and hoping to pull him along, “Can’t argue with it,”

‘Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me

Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me’

It was an all-time favourite. A bop you did not have the heart to resist whenever it came on. Now was not any different. Your lips started whispering the words as your body moved through the space, overcome with the feeling of dancing. At that moment, you were grateful for the sensible footwear your past self had chosen that morning. Sure, dancing in high heels was possible, but the Converse made for a much better choice. They slid along the cracked tiles without resistance, allowing you to double the efforts.

It did not matter that you had an audience. Or that it was a particularly attentive one, for you never once felt Neil look away. He was still staring, standing almost stock-still, save for how his feet tapped out the beat. That had to change.

‘Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!’

You stopped, chest heaving and limbs still too giddy with the effort. You met Neil’s unwavering gaze over the space and mouthed the chorus, aware of the interpretations he could easily reach. That was fine, nothing you were opposed to. In a way, him noticing half your actions did have a tentative hope behind them would have saved you time. And words. But that was a thought for another time.

Once you heard the female vocals come in, you reached out towards him, yet again presenting Neil with your open hand. Yet again, he did not hesitate, letting you pull him close. When the distance had been eradicated, Neil placed his hand on your waist with an experimental level of timidity. As if he was still fully expecting the move to backfire. Silly goose. Your hand ventured up his chest to his shoulder as you steeled your frame into what was expected of ballroom dancing. The habits were hard to shake off, after all.

Despite the booming synthesizers and grooving rhythm, you let him lead you into a slow dance. With each step, Neil’s confidence seemed to grow, for his grip became firmer as he splayed his hand over the small of your back and pulled you closer. It did not matter that his technique would bring your snobbish teachers from ballet study to tears. What mattered was that you felt safe within his embrace, never shying away from Neil’s gaze as it stayed trained on your face. What also mattered was that the genuine smile was fixed on your face. Especially when the song was slowly ending, and Neil was not letting go. What a novelty that was. You worried that once you tasted it, it would be impossible to let go. To forget this careless feeling, encapsulated within a simple, tender hold and open, beautiful eyes.

“That was hardly a song for slow dancing,” when Neil spoke, the remark came upon a hesitant smile, so at odds with how sure his hand was within yours.

“We made do, didn’t we?” you could only offer him a smile, aware of the wobbly edges of your voice and the yearning of your treacherous heart.

Even with years of practice, it sometimes wanted what it could not get. Affection, namely. Or the tenderness that meant something, rather than the mindless touch of a loveless fuck. You hoped one day those two would disappear, leaving you perfectly satisfied with what you had.

As if aware of your dangerous thoughts, the song switch came at a perfect moment. The last beats of The Human League died down, replaced with an equally cheesy rhythm. If not worse. Neil’s reaction was instant. He stopped dancing abruptly, making you nearly miss stepping on his foot. Your eyes darted to his face as curiosity soared in your chest. The barely masked joy you found there only made that warmth in your heart feel like tongues of fire. You disentangled from the embrace to place your hand on his chest and push him back lightly:

“Come on, pretty boy. Show me what you’ve got,” you completed the encouragement with a wink and stepped back to give him space.

The hesitation stage lasted much less this time. Neil stared at you, evidently weighing the pros and cons of giving in, but as soon as Falco opened the song with the lines in German, he had made up his mind. It was your turn to be dumbfounded as you watched Neil thrash to the music, almost keeping up with the beat. He slid across the tiles, barely managing not to slip as Falco went on about Mozart and his flair.

‘Er war ein Virtuose, war ein Rockidol

Und alles rief: Come on and rock me Amadeus’

It was easy to say Neil got lost in the music as his lean body twisted and turned, claiming the space he was allowed to occupy. There was grace in his movement, as well as carelessness, perfectly balancing the dance into an ideal mixture. A rare spark of envy kindled in your chest as you did your best to ignore the question of what it must feel like to be this free. During the poor attempt at moonwalking as he circled you, you could no longer hold back the laugh. Neil’s hands weaved through the air as he threw his head back to shout the hook along with the singer. With each call of Amadeus’ name, the affection in your chest grew, becoming increasingly lethal. A show of that kind displayed not only his trust but also what kind of a man Neil could be if he got rid of his shyness and inhibitions. It was something you doubt you could ever forget.

And that could be a problem.

When the song drew to a close, and Neil’s heaving breaths alerted you that he was probably worn out with exertion, he stopped. The reverberating beats sunk into the background as you met his gaze, aware of the silly softness you could not eradicate from your eyes. Neil looked manic, his pupils dilated and irises sparkling. He was breathing hard, the exhaustion making him shrug off the jean jacket with impatience, so far that Neil did not bat an eyelid when the article landed on the dirty floor. The reveal of an old, worn-out t-shirt underneath that hugged his broad shoulders and biceps just right made your jaw fall slack.

That, too, could be a problem.

Despite the common sense screaming at you to look away, you stared on, aware of Neil gazing right back. A wiser person would have shaken awake in time to switch off the music and call this quits before any further damage could be done. But you were never the wiser person.

You looked on as the song switched into a different era of music, and gentle, cheesy chords of piano and percussion filled the platform with a ballad almost everyone knew. Neil was not any different. You noticed the change in his eyes, switching from playfulness to mild seriousness. As if he, too, knew your fates were being decided at that exact moment.

However, the results of those decisions would not be noticeable until much later.

Using Elvis’ crooning as a backup to help drown your thoughts, you reached out your hand towards Neil, repeating the invitation. It was up to him whether he wanted to take it. Just like everything else in your friendship. The eager hope was hard to nip in the bud. It itched and ached until you could hardly stand still, awaiting the sentencing for what felt like hours. At last, Neil closed the gap and took your proffered hand with an impassive look.

The second time bore all the experience of the first, making it easier to fall in place without hesitation. Neil clasped your hand in his and let his other arm wind around your waist, pulling you close. Much closer than before. Your hand found its way to his shoulder, curious fingers stroking the expanse of his neck, revealed by the t-shirt collar. You did your best not to notice the goosebumps rising on his skin. It was impossible to tell which of you moved first, leading into the gentle sway. Only once you started waltzing around the empty platform, it was impossible to stop.

‘Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?’

Halfway through the song, you tilted your head back from where your gaze had been trained on the expanse of his chest and met Neil’s waiting gaze. The shock passing through your system felt like a fatal blow. There was no denying the fact that this was a first. The first time you had ever danced like that with someone, motivated by nothing else but the desire to do it. There was also no denying the fact Neil’s watchful eyes and the soft strokes of his fingers, running along the expanse of your waist down to your hip, felt like nothing else you could have ever experienced before or after. It was well past your usual flirty chats and casual innuendos. Well past the daily playfulness of whatever it was blooming between you. It was well past the worn-out tracks and lived-in spaces.

Absolutely fucking terrifying.

‘Take my hand,

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you’

It was impossible to say what had tipped the scales right then. Whether it was the song lyrics, drawing attention to all those things you would rather ignore till the end of time or the unwavering eye contact you had maintained as you spun across the space with grace that had not been there previously. Or whether it was due to how Neil held you steadily, all the while allowing himself to stare, eyes roaming over your face in a meticulous study. But perhaps it was just a trick of fate, a sudden loss of reason and logic that made you tip forward and give in to the gravitational pull of his orbit. Perhaps Neil was guilty of the same thing.

Before you knew what had failed and why, you were close enough to feel the gasp of his breath fan across your face. The air ghosted your lips as your nose brushed against Neil’s, and the time slowed to a crawling speed. There was no denying the fact that you wanted it. The want hummed underneath your skin and made it hard to think clearly.

You only knew that Neil closed his eyes, and his sharp intake of breath hit your lips, making you tilt forward. Making it oh so easy to let go and-

“This is Piccadilly Line service towards the Heathrow Airport,” the PA system crackled to life, forcing you to separate as if burned.

You blinked awake, barely noticing the train slowing at the platform and the music still playing from your speaker. One glance at Neil told you all feelings were very much mutual. It was a close call. So close you could almost feel the kiss that never happened. An uncertain smile played upon your lips as you turned off the music and jumped aboard the train. You could only hope the King of the Rock’N’Roll himself was wrong about this one.

***

It was a well-known truth that a pretty boy could make you a little stupid. Stupid enough to do things that, under normal circumstances, would be off the table. But all it took was a flash of blue eyes and a charming smile, and boom, logic gone, reason decimated. Usually, there was a price to pay for that.

But the potential costs meant nothing in the face of the revelations the Saturday night brought. Namely, the kiss that never happened but you could easily dream of. Which you did, just to brighten up the restless sleep. Needless to say, that night unlocked some things. Things that perhaps were best left untouched. But hindsight was a gift you did not yet possess.

Instead, you battled with a single idea that was difficult to eradicate. Sure, that night, or how it had almost ended, was never mentioned again. As early as the next day Neil reached out to you and set the tone you were happy to follow. But the memory remained, nagging at your brain for a week and not once letting go. It was a seed that planted another thought. The thought that nothing was preventing you from reaching out for more. That there was no script to follow with Neil. That idea was like a brainworm making a home inside your skull.

Because, yes, you were known to be a little stupid for attractive boys. And Neil was potentially the most beautiful man you have ever met. That proved to be a problem.

Exactly a week after that Saturday, you caved in. The autumn breeze was hitting your face and tangling your hair as you stared at the Thames. There was no better place to start a catastrophic chain of events than the Blackfriars Bridge. Or so you told yourself. You took out the phone to stare at the messages and opened the text conversation with Neil. It took an additional fortifying breath to start typing out the proposition and start the exchange.

/ 🏹, 5:39 pm/ So, I figured, since we already broke the rules on our hangouts last Saturday

/ 🏹, 5:40 pm/ Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow?

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ That’s unexpected.

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ Why the sudden change of heart?

/ 🏹, 5:46 pm/ I liked your moves.

/✝️, 5:47 pm/ I’m pretty sure no one’s ever said that to me.

/ 🏹, 5:49 pm/ Maybe they just weren’t looking. I knew I was.

/✝️, 5:51 pm/ Okay, yeah. I’d like that.

/✝️, 5:52 pm/ Any labels I should be aware of?

/ 🏹, 5:52 pm/ Nah, fuck the labels.

/ 🏹, 5:53 pm/ Unless you want to bring me flowers. Then let’s call it a date.

/✝️, 5:55 pm/ Then it’s a date 😘

You stared at the phone long after the screen went dark. Along with the buzzing joy and anticipation of what tomorrow would bring, there was also an eternal question. The question you had avoided pretty damn well so far. What the fuck have you done?

***

By the time you were meeting Neil in a café (chosen because of its perfect location between St. John’s Wood and Swiss Cottage), those nerves of anticipation had transformed into anxiety. The worst was that you did not even know what you were so nervous about. A date (that was not really a date) was nothing new. You have done it many times before, usually to great results. But suddenly, when Neil was inserted into the equation, all that you got was uncertainty. And a strong fear of fucking it up. It did not make for a good mix.

Part of it dissipated once you turned the street corner and saw him waiting in front of the café, a bouquet in hand, despite your line being nothing more than a throwaway joke. An affectionate smile was impossible to get rid of no matter how hard you may have tried. It stayed as you closed the remaining distance and met Neil’s gaze. Then it got transformed into a stupid grin as your eyes scanned him head to toe (hair just as messy as always, leather and jeans completed with sneakers – in other words: fucking hot). Once that foolery was complete, you could shift your attention to the flowers, now held out in your direction like a sheepish offering.

It was a colourful bouquet of wildflowers, freshly bloomed and coming from a florist rather than Sainsbury’s. The thoughtfulness was enough to make you blush. Before you could delve into an embarrassing attempt at cover-up, Neil broke the silence:

“You haven’t specified what kind of flowers,” his shyness was easily seen from the fidgeting hands and eyes unwilling to stay on your face longer than necessary.

That was your cue to get yourself together and accept the bouquet with a courtesy. That, too, was just a trick to drag that shy smile onto his face. It worked.

“Those are perfect, thank you,” with another smile, you turned towards the entrance and went in as Neil held the door. It was a cosy café with only a few tables and a bar-service ordering. You motioned towards the smiling server behind the counter with a question, “Wanna go order coffee?”

You did not expect in response to your innocent ask for Neil to come to a strange stand-still in the middle of the entryway and measure you with a look that spoke volumes about him having something to say and no way of expressing it. You raised your eyebrow, urging the words to come out and save you from death by perplexation.

After a beat, Neil seemingly found the ability to speak again and stumbled through a sentence:

“I’ve got… uh… a thing,” the emphasis on the final word was accompanied by an awkward shift, his hand automatically reaching up to comb through his hair and messing it up even more.

That did not help. At all. You blinked, aware of the comedy role you had just been awarded without warning. You were vaguely conscious of the server’s gaze, undoubtedly staring at the spectacle presented with fascination.

“Jesus, what thing?” when Neil did not elaborate, you prodded with another question, gaining a slightly hysterical edge.

It was probably that tone which made the most impact. Neil seemed to wake up, his hands gesturing as he attempted to explain:

“A thing about figuring out people’s drink order,” he shrugged, almost as if already embarrassed by ever bringing it up; that would not do, “Like a-”

“A kink?” you interrupted his explanation with a devilish grin, knowing that it would do the job.

That and the teasing, of course.

The reaction was instantaneous. Where previously there had been mild shyness and uncertainty, the furious blush had bloomed. Neil looked horrified as he took a step in your direction as if considering sealing your mouth shut before finally admitting defeat. What you got instead was a glare and an affronted reply:

“What? No! More like talent, I guess,” Neil shrugged, visibly battling the dilemma you were not privy to. You decided to help him the best way you knew how – by reaching out and squeezing his hand. Once. Just once. It was enough to do the job and make your fingers itch with an inexplicable desire to prolong the contact. Luckily, it disappeared when Neil recovered from his internal crisis and gestured towards the counter, “May I?”

You could only nod, happy that whatever had just transpired was past you. Not that it was not fun, but because of the audience that did not deserve to see what had happened. Whatever it was.

“You’ve got me intrigued, so now you have to,” shrugging upon Neil’s hesitant smile, you ventured inside the café, scouting for a perfect table.

Soon enough, the ideal booth had been located and taken as you awaited Neil’s return. You did not have to wait long, for as soon as you settled and placed your coat on the backrest, he sat in the chair in front. That sheepish smile was still in place, so you tried to bring back his confidence with dumb chitchat until you were interrupted by the server approaching your table. It worked. As you both fell quiet, Neil was visibly fighting a grin threatening to transform his face. The pride surged in your veins without respect towards your sense of humility.

The woman shot you both a bright smile as she set neared the table and put a steaming porcelain cup in front of Neil:

“Flat White for you, sir, and for your girlfriend-” you never got to hear the end of that sentence as Neil’s horrified expression and a loud interruption stole your attention.

“Oh, we’re not-” your laughter was almost enough to drown out his protest.

Almost because the server still looked extremely apologetic as she placed a larger cup in front of you with a clink.

“-Caramel Macchiato,” you waved off the atonement she seemed ready to launch and smiled, the curiosity at his choice already occupying your mind.

“Thank you,” as soon as the woman was out of earshot, you turned your cheeky smile onto Neil and covered his hand resting on the table with your palm, “Are you ashamed of me, my darling?” your favourite blush spread upon his cheeks, widening your grin in the process.

A blunder like that was not something you would ever lose sleep over. Even less so, considering that you were there with Neil. Even with your deep-rooted dislike over anything that had to do with relationships and the complications they lead to, you could not possibly be angry over being perceived as belonging to Neil. If anything, it was flattering.

“Stop it,” he shook off your hand, way too gently, and shook his head as if desperate to clear it, “I just didn’t-” after a beat, he dropped your gaze, giving up the fight, “It doesn’t matter, sorry” although you would do anything to understand the thought processes unfolding behind those slightly vacant blue eyes, you were not given a chance. Instead, he took a fortifying sip of coffee and looked at your cup, (not so) swiftly changing the topic “So… how did I do?” the anticipation in that gaze offered no space for a bargain.

You glanced at the beverage in front of you and slowly raised it to get a tentative taste. The warm liquid slightly burned your tongue, but before you could mourn the damage, the caffeine and creamy caramel filled your mouth with pleasurable goodness. It was a top-notch choice, making you follow that first sip with another almost without a break. Burned tongue be damned.

“Very good, actually,” raising your head, you met Neil’s proud smile. It was a much better look than the embarrassed expression from earlier, motivating you to add, “Maybe you should try getting into BGT with that talent,” you winked at him, even if to prolong the blush, which had begun to fade.

But also because it was fun to compliment him, considering that you meant every word and because of your suspicions that Neil did not get them often. That alone was a travesty, in your opinion.

“Very funny,” rolling his eyes at you with a happy smile tucked in the corner of his lips, Neil looked even better.

It was easy enough a conclusion that lightness and happiness were a good look on him. Especially when you were the cause. You tried not to let that go into your head, but… Well.

“I know,” you matched his smile with a smirk of your own, “Hysterical,” with the perfect pause to take another sip of the glorious coffee, you shifted the topic, “How was the week at the clergy?”

Without Neil’s continuous amused reactions to the same old joke, you would have dropped it by now. But how could you if it still got a laugh out of him each time? You couldn’t let opportunities like that slip by. No chance.

This time, Neil hid the joyous huff of laughter in the coffee cup as he pondered the answer.

“It’s been good. Fine,” a noncommittal shrug offered no room for guessing what it was that he did, which was still a mystery, but you counted wins where you could find them, “A bit busy, but what can you do. I might have a work trip coming up soon, so…” it was only when the second part of his reply was processed by your brain, currently preoccupied with staring at Neil’s mouth (which was a very normal state of mind to have), that you perked up.

That was important information. For two contrasting reasons. One was that whatever Neil did for work involved work trips, and that narrowed down the field, albeit barely. Two was that it would mean he would not be around every Wednesday, ready to meet you. That second deduction took hold of your heart with the icy grasp of disappointment.

“So, no more Wednesday meetups?” it was impossible to keep the sadness out of your tone as you settled a wary gaze on Neil.

Sure, it was survivable. But where would be the fun in it?

It was not fun to see that same apprehension creep into Neil’s eyes.

“Yeah, but only like… for a few weeks,” from his sudden dislike of eye contact, you guessed that the estimation might have been an understatement. Though you did hope he was not lying. The pitiful look must have been still present on your face, for Neil followed the statement with reassurance, “I’m sure you’ll survive without me,” he hesitated for a millisecond before returning your previous gesture and giving your hand a comforting pat.

You did not move it away, the pleasant warmth and weight of his palm seeping through your skin and soothing the sudden spell of sadness. It was difficult not to let that inexplicable feeling lead you into the deep end as it was not something you understood. It settled in the darkest cavern of your heart and accompanied its beat with its foreboding presence. There was no choice but to push past it.

“I don’t know, I’m going to miss you,” the confession felt dangerously light on your tongue as you registered Neil’s reaction. His beautiful eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he quickly dropped your gaze, choosing to stare at the table instead. The only sign that you were heard was how his thumb stroked your hand repeatedly, “I hope you’ll be back before the premiere,” using the only way you knew of lightening the conversation, you made sure to slip in a playful tone.

Ever since the day you had shared joyous news with Neil, he often asked about the preparations for the ballet. He seemed genuinely interested in the process, the rehearsals, and your impressions at every stage.

When you innocently hinted at a costume fitting in your texts Neil immediately asked for a picture. You complied, gleefully posing in the dressing room mirror wearing the whole get-up, complete with pointe shoes, tights, and a white ballet tutu with the accents of blue flower petals. All in all, you had the right to believe that Neil would be interested in coming to see the ballet when it premiered. You had that covered.

“I’ll do my best,” his hopeful smile was enough to distract you, for soon Neil followed it with a question, “Do I get an invite?”

The cheeky smile was back in full force, almost wiping you off the surface of the Earth. More of that, please. Feeling brave, you slowly tangled your fingers with his to raise your joined hands from the tabletop and squeezed his palm. It was a silly question to ask. You had to make sure Neil knew that.

“Well, duh,” you started with an eye roll, taking pleasure from the feel of his hand holding yours, “I’m going to need a personal cheerleader for when I fail big time,” it was a rare thing to hear you admit the fear and anxieties out loud.

Most of the time, they only existed in your mind, never expressed. And especially not in a conversation because that fear of someone else confirming all you feared was overwhelming. It was better to appear invincible to the world than to let them know your weaknesses. Somehow this logic did not want to apply itself to Neil. No, he has heard it all. And yet, he did not seem keen on confirming you were right to doubt yourself.

“That’s not going to happen. You’ll be the perfect Cupid,” punctuating the encouragement with a squeeze of the hand, Neil shot you a brilliant grin.

The nickname was growing on you. It was also the cause of a few silly smiles during the rehearsals when you were addressed with your character role. That was alright, too.

Now, with the force of his beautiful smile shining upon you like a rare beacon of hope, you tried your hardest not to let the praise consume you whole. Instead, you turned to the faithful vice of sarcasm as you let go of his hand and settled your chin on your folded palms. Eyelashes and doe eyes in full force. Naturally.

“Wow, my charms must be working if you’re this blindsided,” curling the corner of your mouth in a smirk, your eyes roamed over his face in familiar patterns.

It was refreshing to remember why you invited him out in the first place. Why you have decided to break the unwritten role and step on the line you both had been tiptoeing from day one. Why nothing was holding you back from reaching for what you wanted.

This time, Neil did not turn away from your taxing gaze and met it head-on. Almost as if permitting you to proceed with whatever you desired.

“You’ve no idea, sweetheart,” mirroring your tentative smirk, Neil offered you a wink and picked up the coffee cup.

You were certainly not going to eschew a chance like that.

***

As far as first dates (could he even call it that?) went, meeting up for coffee and letting the conversations run without a disaster somewhere in between was rare. Even rarer still considering that Neil did not know how he got to this point and whether it was not all a dream. The jury was out on that. Even though Sunday was now two days ago, the meeting was still fresh in his mind, posing a thousand questions.

Because he really did not know how he got that place. The only certainty was that sometime between the surprising Saturday night meeting at Leicester Square station and the day after, Cupid made up her mind and chose to strike. Alternatively, she decided to act considering the realisations he was not privy to. Sure, that night at the station almost ended with a kiss. He knew that. He was there. But it did not offer answers as towards why an almost kiss made her behave in contrast to what Neil thought he understood about her.

Because a date was definitely a step above flirting. And it was hard to understand what that meant. If anything at all.

Now, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Neil stared out the window of the HQ cafeteria and tried his hardest not to think about it (her) for a change. It was not going well, as one could expect. From the corner of his eye, he could tell Ives was staring. Those piercing blue eyes (bluer than his, which has once or twice been proved during a night out as those things usually are) have been glancing his way instead of focusing on the sandwich on his plate. What a prick (affectionate). After what felt like a fiftieth glance, Neil dropped the napkin onto his place with force and turned towards Ives with a glare. The patience has worn out.

“Oh, just spit it out,” Neil hissed the words with ire.

The grin spreading upon Ives’ lips did not help a bit. The soldier leaned forward, abandoning his food and setting the perceptive eyes upon his friend. Mercilessly. With years of friendship, Neil knew this was not ending well.

“I haven’t said a word,” the man shrugged; a picture-perfect nonchalance.

If only.

“But you’ve been staring,” Neil’s attempt at covering up the tension with a bored tone failed.

He knew that as soon as he saw Ives’ unimpressed smile. There were no doubts about where this conversation was heading. It was the interrogation Neil had feared from day one. It was only a matter of time. Damn it.

“Go ask Henrik. Maybe he can help you gauge my eyes,” in moments like this, Ives’ cockney accent came out in full force, tearing at the shreds of patience Neil seemed to have.

Despite himself, he cracked a smile at the comeback.

“Doubtful,” quickly hiding it in the sip of tea, Neil muttered a quip of his own.

While Henrik, the team’s medic, was a peculiar man, it was improbable he would be into that kind of thing. Unfortunately.

“Eh, I wouldn’t put it past him,” before he could hope this was the end of the conversation, Ives levelled him with another no-bullshit look and delivered the sentence in four simple words, “Mate, spit it out,”

If only it were that easy. For one, Neil did not even know what there was to tell. Sure, he has met a girl. He was probably thinking too much about said girl daily. But that was it. The end of the story. Pathetic, as per usual.

“I’d rather not,” as the last resort of keeping his dignity intact, Neil averted his gaze and fixed his stare on the dirty floor of the cantina.

A solitary potato chip was lying there, attracting attention. For one, maddening second, his brain tried to concoct an elaborate metaphor in which he was like that lonely, forgotten chip on the ground.

Thankfully, the idea was soon dispersed by his irreplicable companion and his booming voice, cutting through the idiotic thoughts:

“I beg to differ,” the hint of reassurance in Ives’ voice was responsible for luring Neil into listening, just as the soldier delivered the question, “What’s her name? His name? Their name?”

Admittedly, the inclusive way of asking was a nice touch from someone who frequently lacked decorum. Or, more accurately, did not bother with it. It was that addition that made Neil crack, with the final resolve crumbling as he tried to protest:

“There���s no- Cupid,” giving out a tired sigh, Neil finally raised his head and repeated the nickname with something ridiculously close to the softness of affection, “I call her Cupid,”

It made no sense. He knew that. But it did not help that whenever he thought of her, that stupid, embarrassing part of his heart was roused awake from periodical slumber. So much for being reasonable.

As soon as Ives whistled lowly and that familiar sardonic grin appeared on his face, Neil knew it was a mistake.

“Kinky,” his murderous glare got ignored in favour of another pressing question, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Lucky was definitely an overstatement if you asked Neil. But he did not fancy getting into the specifics of the relationships yet. Instead, he happily let himself delve back into memories of that first meeting. He still could not find other apt ways to describe it than a strike of fate. Dramatic? Sure, that was his second name.

He did doubt that Ives would appreciate the insane poetic ruminations, however.

“I’ve met her at the Tube, and she’s a ballerina… Pretty fucking cool, at that” that was a non-negotiable fact. Period.

Yet from the way his friend stared at him, Neil could easily deduct that here, too, he sounded like the insane idiot that he was. An idiot that finds friends on the Tube and lets that develop into something else. Something he tried very hard not to define. It was going splendidly well. Of course.

“Uh oh,” as if reading his mind, Ives, the prick, pasted on a silly grin and bated his eyelashes down at him, continuing the interrogation, “Is that a crush I’m sensing?”

Fuck. That was, indeed, a mistake.

Not that there was a crush because there absolutely wasn’t anything of that sort. Idiot, he might have been, but not… No. No. Which is exactly why Neil had to pause to cover his face with his hands and let out a deep sigh. Conveniently ignoring Ives and his bullshit assumptions.

Only once he felt like the annoyance had simmered to an acceptable white noise, Neil dropped the hands covering his face and met his destiny in the form of an infuriating sardonic smile.

“No, she’s just… I’m fascinated, okay? I’ve never met anyone like her before, and we’ve got a good thing going with weekly chats and… stuff,” running out of steam, Neil let the last word trail off into silence.

He knew what it all sounded like. He did. Except that there was no better way of describing it (them) to the outside world. And he was certainly not keen on showing Ives the texts. Not after the last conversation this morning, which involved more innuendos and another rendition of What socks are you wearing? - his favourite game. Truly. What made the exchange more incriminating, however, was the fact that Cupid’s current socks brandished an image of an adorable pug with a caption: “Send dog pics”. Yeah, that. That was a theme he was so far happy to ignore. Kind of.

“Did you kiss her yet?” another ridiculous question acted like a wake-up call as Neil felt the loathed, crimson blush fill his cheeks.

“What is this? Middle school?” another outburst got met with a stoically blank face, not helping to ease the shame of being so goddamn transparent “No, I didn’t,” I wish, “We danced” offering the alternative lowkey felt like self-sacrifice.

Not because Neil was embarrassed of what had happened that Saturday night but because it stayed a secret to anyone who was not him or Cupid. At least, that is what she told him, much to inexplicable surprise, which he could not and would not try to understand.

“I never knew you dance,” the soldier’s remark, as always, missed the mark.

Annoyance at the whole world, at this rate, rose at a steady pace. Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that Neil was frustrated at the circumstances of the relationship with the woman in question, but it was too soon for self-realisation to do its work.

“Of course, I do,” instead, it was the distant feel of pity that nagged at the edges of his soul as Neil allowed the dismissive reflection to be voiced without the veil of fake pep, “Anyway, none of it matters. She’s not into relationships, so…” he shrugged, aware of the pitiful picture.

In a way, it was easier to know that about her ahead of time. It was perfect information to push at his brain and heart whenever they got too comfortable with the situation. To remind them (and himself) that it was not going anywhere, and it never would.

But, for some infuriating reason, the heart tended to be a stubborn beast holding no regard for facts. Not that heart had anything to do with this just yet. Of course not. Neil just… liked her. As a human being likes another human being. Platonically.

“Surely, your roguish charm will convince her otherwise,” as expected, Ives looked as if he was trying very hard not to feel sorry for him and was failing.

The reassurance hardly worked if Neil was being honest. The existence of said roguish charm was highly debatable. But who was he to argue?

“Nah, it’s fine. I can be just friends with her” manifesting much, or whatever. It was a blessing to have a different topic to switch to, “Anyway, I’m not going to see her for the next couple of weeks since we’re leaving,” another attempt at a nonchalant shrug got lost in the heaviness Neil could not shake off if he tried.

Going off on a mission right now, in the middle of it all, was far from ideal. Neil liked his job, loved it even, but then, some operations felt like a drag from the moment they appeared on his desk. That was one of them.

“Yeah, Lisbon is on,” from the tiredness written all over Ives’ face, Neil could tell the lack of enthusiasm was shared, “Two weeks, but it might be longer,”

“Great,” sarcasm dripped from the word as Neil glanced at his friend and asked, “We’re going to bunk together?”

It was only half a joke. Because only the company made the perspective of that mission seem a little less daunting.

“You wish, love,” the answering grin on Ives’ face was the perfect punchline to the dramatic conversation. The soldier got up from the table with another quip, “You know I’m not into blondes,” he walked away without another glance, yet the laugh he elicited from Neil could be heard in the room above the cantina.

[paprikadotmp4]

wip ask game

ヾ(＠⌒ー⌒＠)ノ

tagged by the lovely @ladytauria !! thank yew bb ♡

rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

hMmMMmmMMMmmm... i'll organize by ship because i think that's easier:

BRUJAY 1. delusional bruce 2. grooming???? i guess?? 3. mafia jason x doctor bruce 4. stoke a fire (suicidal jason mob au)

BRUJAYDICK 5. but make them freaks

DICKTIM 6. [gift for my good friend ****] 7. dicktim chapter 1

JAYBUCKY 8. to hold saltwater in your mouth

JAYCEST 9. ak!jay x rh!jason dimension displacement

JAYDICK 10. "wow officer grayson," jason simpers, 11. brother dear spinoff 12. earth 3 is sooo sexxceee 13. scumbag dick but it's cute

JAYROY 14. jaybin x speedy mutual noncon

JAYTIM 15. AITA for not realizing i'm in love with my crime lord roommate? 16. [super secret collab w the boys ( *︾▽︾)] 17. darkroom (black, white, red light) 18. darlings kill you dead (/ pretty when you kill?) 19. deliver your eulogies (rr) 20. in motion time loop 21. online friends identity shenanigans 22. point and shoot (and have some fun, baby) 23. [frantic fanfic with 🍜] 24. [another frantic fanfic with 🍜]

JAYTIMDAMI 25. momegaverse [for ****]

JONDAMI 26. damian being a meanie 27. where dami thinks jonjay are together but they're just fwbs

KHOAJAY 28. chokehold (aka pining for bruce)

ROBINPILE 29. paprika interviews some vampires

SLADEJAY 30. roadtrip + injury 31. slade x eng major jason but subverted 32. speed dating is for schmucks [frantic fanfic with 🪼🐈] 33. [heheheh gift for ********; has romanjay]

TIMDAMI (urgh i forgot people call this damitim but i can't rearrange the numbering anymore இ௰இ) 34. a fine line / play nice / they fck in the cave or smth 35. deliver your eulogies (jaytim rr but timdami ver) 36. tmdm casefic plotting

i think most people i know have been tagged... just in case though, tagging: @37nightwalker @jacenpetertodd @disniq @marsupialmenace @azol-otl @setsailslash ??? come on buds!! ♡♡♡

[heartsyncproductions]

Welcome back to another look back at everything I managed to do during the year of our chaos 2024! This was a weird year creatively, most notably because I was working full time in a new job in healthcare AND I was sick about twelve times this year. Both of those things really cut into my time for any creative work. However, I still managed to get some things done and goals checked off, so let's take a look!

I released a few things this year, so let's go through them:

Burning Academia Chapter 1 & 2 (plus some bonus content): In my goals list at the start of the year, I said I wanted to have up to chapter 4 done LOL Honestly, I think if my health hadn't failed me so much this year, I could have released up to chapter 3 and have been working on chapter 4 by December. But that just isn't what happened. Most of my time not working was spent sleeping this year since I was sick so often, and I think that really shows based on how most of things I got done were super short.

FaithEater: My Blasphemous/Dark Souls inspired otome! It was nice to release an otome this year, especially since I didn't get to Spring Boy this year (we'll...get into that). This was also the game that ranked in any of the Velox Fabula jam iterations I've joined which honestly really took me by surprise. I made this in 36 hours, and I really love the world I envisioned here. This is on the shelf as something I might come back to for a longer project as well! It was also my most popular of the visual novels I released this year as well, which I thought was interesting!

WINDOWBOY Drowning: The second game in the PRETTYBOY Inc. series and made for O2A2! This one came out of nowhere and wasn't the game I was thinking of making for the next game in this series. That being said, I really love the vibes it ended up having, and I'm glad it exists! This also got a let's play video this year (as well as the first PRETTYBOY Inc. game), which was a unique experience for me seeing as most of my games are super obscure.

Where Sea Foam Fades: The last game released this year! Honestly, this was something I made for fun because I was going through a brief pirates of the carribean obsession lol. I think this was the point where I realized just how much more comfortable I'd gotten working in Ren'py, and I'm proud to say I finally understand the basics of the program without feeling like I constantly need to reference the documentation!

Other things I did:

Raffle for Palestine: The Interactive Fiction community put this together and I offered to be one of the writers to be raffled off! This was one of the first community events I did, and it was a really great experience. I'm super proud of how much we raised for the various families

Secret Santa: I did the VN dev secret santa this year! I was super anxious at first, but I loved the piece I did and I also was in love with my piece I got back! I'm hoping to do more community events in 2025, but I've been taking baby steps due to my mental health. We've been getting there this year, though!

Was part of a dev team for Velox Turbo 2: I did it!!! I said I wanted to take part in a team at some point, but I didn't think I'd be ready to do so until next year when I felt like I got my bearings. Granted this was at the very last minute (December!) but I actually allowed myself to collaborate with people and it was a fun experience! I'm really proud of myself for taking this step, and I'd love to do it again at some point in 2025!

Goals for 2025:

I'm going to be honest, I'm keeping this pretty minimal for a variety of reasons (most of them can all be boiled down to Life), but here's what I'm hoping to get done in the next year

Spring Boy: FOR REAL THIS TIME. I can explain this, actually. I think when I lost the files for this game originally, I hadn't realized just how hard it had killed my motivation for the game. I spent most of 2024 slowly getting that motivation back and trying to make the game not feel cursed in my brain anymore. I also didn't want to force myself because I didn't want to hate the game or build resentment towards it. That being said, I did finish up the sprite redraws and the new script for the new demo. I just need to slowly chip away at the new backgrounds and figure out some coding things and then the new demo will be out!

Burning Academia up to Chapter 4: Also for real this time lmaO I think I understand my pacing with my new life set up a lot better now than I had at the beginning of the year, so depending on how often I get sick, this should be doable! Chapter 3 is pretty close to be being done, and then I'll have the entire year to work on Chapter 4. Chapter 4 will also be a little shorter than Chapter 3, so I think it's doable this time around.

Whatever I come up with for game jams: I just really love doing game jams, so I'm hoping to release a few things throughout the year for different ones!

Closing Thoughts:

2024 was rough. I'm hoping for 2025 to not be as rough, but I'm trying to plan for it as though it might be. Health wise, I'm probably going to be doing some testing to see if I do have an autoimmune deficiency (my sister-in-law, a nurse, says based on my history it's a possibility). I'm also going to try to schedule and time block things better this year to do the things I want to do.

I'm not really upset I couldn't hit my main goals of 2024. The fact I did anything at all when I spent over twenty weeks of the year sick and miserable is kind of a miracle all on its own! I'm pretty happy with what I managed to get done this year. But I would like to at least release Spring Boy fully.

I think after I finish up the last of Chapter 3 of BA, I'm going to switch gears and put most of my energy into Spring Boy for a bit until its done. It's been sitting around since 2023 and it feels like its time for me to finally dive in to it.

With all that said, thanks to everyone who has checked out my work as always! I hit 1k followers on itch.io which is wild to me lol, so thanks to everyone whose played and enjoyed my work enough to follow! I hope you enjoy whatever comes next and good luck with the new year!