#do u experience the feeling that ur wearing someone elses skin at all times that u have to constantly be

[mechawolfie]

I love to be dizzy and nauseous and lightheaded and feel pain all over it's so fun!!! my family is right I'm like this on purpose I love to be in pain and I love to avoid doing the dishes by any means necessary!!! i would rather individually hit every single of my nerve endings with a micro hammer than do the dishes , in fact I'm doing that right now so i won't have to do dishes today!!!! yay this is so fun!!!!!!! fuck work !!!!!!!!!!!!

[sir-sunny]

i wanna share some more hc once again if ur up for it! This is very much fun!!

Btw i love your art SO much

-since nagito has never had a close friend before, hajime goes above and beyond to make him have the ✨bestie experience ✨

- they do dumb corny shit like wear those two pice broken heart ''best friend'' neckleces u know the ones

-hajime teaches nagito how to tie his shoes

-i actually think that 77-b had a harder time figuring out that these two were friends than when they started dating

Hajime: sorry kaz i can't go test your street threat of a bike today, i'm playing scrabble with komaeda

Kaz: LITERALLY WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN

-they start matching clothes then play dumb when someone points it out

-it isn't long until they start doing it unironically and when nobody is watching and it's disgusting

-hajime and nagito matching t-shirts that say cat and dog. Fuyuhiko yells at them.

-they borrow each others pants

-they wear the other's clothes and make an impression. Twogami walked in on them once

-nagito says the weirdest shit all of the time but after being exposed to this behaviour for so long hajime is just okay with it. the rest of the class however, is not

-nagito will do strange things and hajime will try to say something, stop, remember that this is nagito, nod and move on

Nagito: ah hinata-kun, let us go back to our love nest to sleep and wait for another wonderful day where we can spread hope once again hahahaha. I can feel my bones vibrate form the excitement aha i might start drooling

Hajime: whatever okay

77-b: 👁️👁️

im glad you're having fun! i am too

(also thank u!! im happy u like my art)

aaaaaa hajime and nagito having cheesy friendship necklacesss,, imagine nagito never heard of these type of necklaces before so when hajime gave him one he was very confused

hajime:... so you'll have one half of the heart and i'll have the other. and look, they fit together :) isnt that cool?

nagito:...

...

...

are u proposing to me?

hajime: WH--

alksdhkasj they're such nerds they show up in each other's clothes to breakfast one day just quietly snicker to each other like theyre the funniest ppl alive. everyone's just like "same shit as always,,"

oh yeah hajime's totally used to the strange things nagito will say asjdghas like

nagito: hajime, if we ever got stranded at sea together i'd let u kill me and use my bones to build a raft and use my skin to keep you warm <3

hajime: oh, thanks :)

everyone else: HUH???

[juhihuji]

do u have any random facts or things about Depth of heaven and ur characters (sfw or nsfw 🤭) even if what you want never comes to light, I really enjoy reading the concepts and asks about ur OCs

Hehehe I haven't thought about the characters and their story in a long time, until recently...but I never put a huge amount of thought into them before either! I kinda just knew I...wished I could make something cool that had everything I wanted in that kind of game lmao. Even if it doesn't happen, I felt like I wanted there to be twists and secrets...if it never happens then nobody but me will ever know about them, huh! But, if it does happen then I'll spoil stuff for later! What to do...ah I'll share about it! But I'm giving it a spoiler warning for something that doesn't exist anyway lmao Also I'm not a writer or a scientist this is all wacky world rules ok xd also there might be inconsistencies idk I never wrote anything down I'll tell u their heights! June: 5'4 Puzzle: 6'3 Koa: 5'6 Adam: 6'1 Keizo: 6'7 Lloyd: 5'11 Static: 6' Cyril: 5'9 Holly: 5'7

In high school June and Puzzle were da weeaboos who listened to vocaloid on their phones at lunch. Puzzle wore cat ears, big headphones, and tutus to school. I think....I decided that because of her old bad design lmao. I thought I had a drawing of her in cat ears but I can't find it 😔 June prolly just wore hoodies and graphic t-shirts. They were each others prom dates! June wore a tux! Okay spoilery stuff ahead!

I have a general idea what I want the story to be, but right now I just see it as disjointed scenes in my head. I posted some June and Puzzle wearing dresses where I wanted a scene to happen in a casino on the ship. Cruise ship casinos are kinda lame though lol, but it'll be as big and cool as I want >:•3 and it's an excuse to have everyone in cool formal wear cuz that's always fun! The cult leader calls for a big party on the ship and everyone has to attend! It's also where he culls the herd...because not everyone is worthy of going to heaven...apparently Koa likes playing video games! He's on the top of the leaderboard for one MMO, and during one event the top prize was blueprints for an in-game item: roller skates! It would make for cool merch to put on your wall or something. There was a rumor among the playerbase that the blueprints could make skates that function as they do in the game. Koa won the prints then used them to custom build his own skates (they look kinda generic now but I haven't put a lot of thought into their design lmao). The combination of materials used and construction give them a magical quality that allows him to skate faster than any human could! He's always pushing his limits, and sometimes it gets him in twubble xd Keizo has an issue with bad dreams...at night he replays all the times in his life where people were rude to him or each other, how he needs to keep peace between them, he just really hates assholes! He has nightmares about them treating him badly and there's nothing he can do, because at his height and with his strength he'd come off as the bad guy no matter what! They push and push 'til he's about to snap...then he wakes up! The rage super heats his blood and his skin glows red and steam pours out his ears! His hair is all wacky cuz it holds it's shape on the pillow from all the heat lmao June and the rest of them find out about it when they see steam coming out from under his door at night. Don't wake him up though! If he's still glowing hot he'll sleep walk while in a berserk state. First, it makes him really rude himself lmao. He'll say all the nasty things he won't when he's awake! Second, if he sees someone doin' shit he don't like, they're gettin' these 🤜🤛 In his happy ending you'd see him with his hair flat for the first time wouldn't that be nice :•3 Adam is always doing experiments on himself, kinda just for shits, kinda because he wants to discover something amazing....!.....?!?!??! When he was younger, his sister, who he loved v much, died. He wanted to become a doctor, not because he wanted to find a cure for the thing that killed his sister...because she died in an accident! He wanted to find a way to make people invincible! He's always injecting himself with stuff hoping it'll make him stronger. He likes Keizo as a friend, but to Adam Keizo is a perfect specimen of an indestructable human. Adam's been fascinated with him for a while, but Keizo also just makes for a good subject for testing against! Also, they met when Adam was studying abroad and Keizo came up on a motorbike and attacked the wheels on Adam's scooter. Cute! :•) Keizo used to be a bad boy :•( Other experiments Adam's done: Eyesight like a HAWK Cat ears but for real Jelly bones(?) Longer ween 😳 Lloyd is a stinky tech wiz who likes playing around with AI's and robotics! He has myassive myega brains and he monitors many of the functions of the ship by himself in his server room. When the captain is captured and thrown off the ship, Lloyd uses his know-how and special accesses to make sure the cult doesn't make a mess of everything. He knows about and can see everything that happens on the ship...for fun he likes video games toooo! And plays with Koa! He likes buildin' lil gadgets n tings for fun too! They can come in real handy! nsfw! Stuff past here!!!!!!!!! June, Koa, and Lloyd are all inexperienced!

As a lover, Keizo tries to be gentle...but once he gets into it he can be a bit rough! If you're into it, just enjoy! Or speak up and he'll slow down! Hmmm I was inspired by a scene from the film Crying Freeman (which I haven't actually watched 8•|) of some ppl doin' it in a closet(?)...it's all dark and cramped and humid and their skin is so shiny and glistening it's probably the thing that awoken me to drawing people super sweaty. I just can't help myself 😳 def wanna give Keizo a scene like that. This doodle was inspired by it actually lmao

Adam is patient and gentle! Lots of kisses and verbal reassurance and checking in w/ u. He's aware of his age and he doesn't wanna come off badly so he'll let you do all the pursuing. And June will pursue him hard if she has to! He's also gonna make you beg and ask, just so he's sure sure :•) He loves to sit her up on the examining table n do things wit his mouf n fingers 😳 I'd probably make it an option to call him daddy in certain scenarios...up to u if u choose it find out what happens for urself idk 😳😳😳 or don't

Koa likes to tease you, maybe bully you a lil, but when it comes to intimacy he's a wimp! I just like the idea of making the bully bend to your will, but he likes it. It just feels good to wipe that cocky smile off his face! Step on him! Make him whimper! I know June's a virg too, but Koa is just so easy to tease it makes it feel like second nature. BUT the more time they spend together, the more confident Koa becomes. So! Enjoy havin' him under your thumb while you can cuz it might not last forever! Lloyd tries to stay composed when June starts showing an interest. He's usually alone in his server room, but secretly appreciates her company when she comes by. At first he'll act like he's too busy. He's not used to being around women! As his interest in June grows it becomes harder to hide his feelings! So June notices...and teases him! Cuz it's just so easyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYY 😩 Seeing his serious expression crack when you put ur hands in his pants is lots of fun :•3 And he shows you a voice he's never shown anyone else before 🤤 He does his research and with your help he'll learn exactly how to worship u 😌 IF it ever happens there has to b a new game plus where u unlock threesome scenes with Koa/Lloyd and Adam/Keizo :•x That's all 4 now! Sorry I'm fuckin' gross and don't know how to type :•|

[brw]

rating random outfits from the vision because i am very bored

outfit one - classic look

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. they are both wearing the same outfit, of a green bodysuit that covers every part of their body aside from the front of their face. with it, they wear yellow gloves, yellow boots and a knee-length cape which has a large flared collar. their torso is covered by yellow fabric which wraps around them like a corset. it ends at the top of their thighs. in the first image, they are faced to the left, with one leg raised and their cape floating around their shoulders. in the second image, they have she-hulk, thor & monica rambeau as captain marvel grouped behind them. they are facing forwards and gesturing towards the viewer with their hand. end id/]

- cape goes woosh

- literally the only thing showing is their face everything else is covered

- the collar is very dramatic and gay which i appreciate

- kinda wearing a corset thing? which is cool

- idk what's up with the diamond thing between their tits :/

- colour combo is atrocious but that's a staple of their style it seems lmao

- very out there, very dramatic

- you could probably wear something similar to a pride parade tbh just change the colours and you're good to go

- i like the gloves they look like the yellow ones you use to wash dishes in the sink with the scrubber thingy

final score - 7/10 bonus points for nostalgia & cape, its a very nice very classic look but also very modest :/ show some skin pls ur wife is basically wearing a swimsuit with gloves show a little solidarity :/

outfit two - boob window

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are reaching upwards with one arm extended in an attempt to escape several grey hands reaching up to their hip trying to drag them down. their costume is one piece broken into three sections. the bottom half is green and goes slightly above their hips creating a large v-shape. the middle half is yellow and v-shaped as well. the top part reaches to their shoulders and the bottom part is to the middle of their chest, and extends all the way to their fingers. the base of the v is also the bottom of a diamond cut out revealing some of their skin in the pectoral area. the top of the diamond leads to the third and final part of the costume which is the same shade of green as the bottom. This part is a large collar, a head covering that wraps around all around their head but leaves the face uncovered, as well as a cape that is shredded at the bottom. end id/]

- very similar outfit with inverted colours and instead of adding a diamond they cut one out :)

- another wooshy cape :)

- still has their face covered all around except for the front tho :( like idk wouldn't that annoy you? what if it gets too tight or you get hot?

- i have no idea how their cape works with the diamond cleavage window thingy like?? did they just use superglue? please explain

- gloves are gone 😔

- and no more boots 😔😔😔

- corset gone why did they remove all the sexy parts the tiddy does not compensate 😔😔😔😔😔

final score - 3/10 it's basically just an inverted version of the last one except they took the Cool Sexy Bits away which makes everything boring :/ bonus points for the boob window thing though, shows the beginning of their Bimboification :)

outfit three - detective

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are standing with one leg resting on something that is not in view. they are partially shadowed, and wear an intense, thoughtful expression. there is a cigarette hanging out of the side of their mouth. they look similar to a 1940s film noir character. they are wearing a white shirt that appears to be a button up, though the thickness of their tie that reaches down to their trousers obstructs any buttons. their sleeves are rolled up to around their elbows. their tie is somewhat loosened around their neck, and is white with black stripes in varying thickness. they wear a pair of thick white suspenders that connect to their trousers, which seem to be grey or a dull brown. they have one of their hands in their trouser pocket. under the same arm is a gun, though this is hard to make out in the darkness. they are also wearing a broad-rimmed fedora, which casts half their face in shadow with only their pupilless bright yellow eyes showing through. end id/]

- this ABSOLUTELY fucks

- unirionically sexy

- noir detective look very nice very cash money

- the loosened tie really just puts the whole thing together

- their face is free! no more awkward green pieces of plastic or whatever!

- calls pretty people "dames" for sure

- rolled up sleeves make me feel like a repressed victorian girl who's just begun to experiment with the Devil's Doorbell™

- smoking is bad for ur health but jesus if it isn't a vibe

- hat worn by reddit "nice guys" :/

final score - 9/10 this really is one hell of a look, very 1920s it absolutely slaps the suspenders are everything tbh if they were in a movie they'd probably be played by harrison ford idk why. anyway this ABSOLUTELY fucks and is one of my faves and is criminally underrated 🤗

outfit four - suit

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. in both panels, they are wearing the same simple two-piece black suit, with a white shirt underneath their jacket. there are no buttons or pockets on their jacket, and everything seems to be perfectly ironed. their tie is long and thin, and is tight around their neck. their shoes are nondescript and black. in the first panel, vision is to the side, and is floating in the air. in the second panel, vision is standing and is facing the viewer, with their face slightly shadowed and their fists clenched at their sides. end id/]

- simple, cute, chic

- the thinness of the tie is a big change from the last one

- classic suit style, the most casual of formal wear

- office worker kind of thing but like. a FANCY office

- nondescript; no personality in it whatsoever :/

- makes them look like a conservative 😔

final score - 4/10 it's kinda boring tbh they look cute but :/ lame. shows them trying too hard to conform to humanity's standards and it is Not A Vibe. there's no Sauce & also appears in something written by t*m k*ng so the association is immediately off

outfit five - ultimates aka No Clothes Titty Out

[image id: a comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. this one is from the ultimates/1610-verse. this vision is more female-presenting then their 616 counterpart. they are not wearing any clothes. their body is golden and reflective and metallic. their body is comprised of different plates of metal, which are symmetric. just before their elbow, there is a gap in each arm between the metal plates so you can see the wires running through their arms underneath. there is a red diamond shape, still made of metal, in the area where a belly button would be on a human being. they have breasts that do not have any nipples, but have a large circle plating where the nipple would normally be. much like their 616 version they are bald with a yellow diamond in their forehead. their expression is difficult to read but they appear to be smiling slightly. their arms are raised around their head, not touching their skull but close to it. they are strutting towards the viewer with one hip jutted to the side. metal wires surround them, with none of them fully touching them aside from a thick one seemingly connected to the back of their neck. end id/]

- pussy out

- no clothes this bitch doesn't need them (but they do need titties for some reason??? bro????)

- red diamond thing to cover up the bellybutton? girl what are you hiding

- Gold And Shiny a nice change from our regularly scheduled red skin

- emulating aunt/sister/mother/whatever the fuck jocasta which is nice, it's about time vision got someone other then Fashion Disaster Wonder Man to help them out. i guess nudity is better then combining green and yellow all together with red skin jjshsheheh

- sexualised :/

- genuinely kinda hot tho i think i have succumbed to the Robot Tiddies 😔

- no idea how the physics of their hip/ass jutting out is supposed to work it looks like they dislocated something

final score - 6/10 it's cool but also why did u sexualised the android like i. also they are a robot and not a synthezoid which :( why. but u know i appreciate the pussy out kinda thing and ultimates verse vision dated sam wilson so they have good taste. points knocked off for being from the ultimates verse which is Bad™ imo

outfit six - This Fucking Thing What Is This I Hate It So Much

[image id: a cropped panel of the vision from marvel comics. they are facing the viewer with an angry expression. their fists are tightly clenched and are raised slightly. around their wrists are thick yellow spiked bracelets. their arms are uncovered. their shoulders are covered by yellow spiked shoulderpads. they are wearing a green bodysuit with a bright yellow collar around their neck and a plunged neckline that goes all the way down their chest and torso until it is obstructed by yellow underwear, which is held up by a very thick yellow ring, which is also covered in spikes. their green bodysuit continues all the way down their legs until their boots, which are go up half-way around their calves and are folded over. they have a yellow diamond stuck in the middle of their chest. they are also wearing a green helmet that is green and corinthian (greek) in style. it is also spiked. the spikes at either side of the faceplate are small and yellow. the one at the top of the helmet is the same shade of green as the helmet itself. end id/]

- why

- it's. it's so ugly

- what's with the fucking spikes

- the boots are horrendous

- helmet looks they bought it at a museum for £15 and its made out of cheap shitty poorly made and badly painted plastic

- why did they glue a yellow diamond to their chest what is the fucking point

- porcupine energy

- the shoulder pads why the fucking shoulder pads disco isn't coming back just accept it

- spike belt underwear????? why??????????? looks like they made one of those chokers huge and called it a day

- it's just. it's just so ugly. why would you think this was a good idea who is responsible

final score - 0/10 i do not want to see it

[gavinisqueer]

Okay so I just finished watching DE and I decided to just write down all of my thoughts as they happened and this is that. Very stream of consciousness, idk if parts make sense, and nothing makes sense if you haven’t seen the film. And of course, #spoilers

-

ajksdhkjs gavin has to look up to face the protestor

nines is fucking laughing internally when he says he can do Gavin's voice

WISDOM????1?

shuuut the fuck up

*aaaass*hole

'Aspects of their appearance that I find charming' oh you mean like... scars??

jsadkjfj why does the dude wear a boa

this bit is so gay

Suspicious Man

he talk fast oof

Ada has access to all the files? why???

ohhhhhhh baby (sleepy coat scene)

zen gavin is the new button up gavin

her... traci parts

okayokay Nines honey if you made zen gavin... he either is doing whatever you want him to, or he's telling you what Gavin would based on your data. either way you should not be arguing right now

gavin..... is baby

sad? boi???

okay but Gavin looks so... drained wonderful makeup(??) to get that effect imo

OH they cuddle,,,, yes

HAND WHITE AH

why does gavin have a fucking muscle shirt with a hood

can we just appreciate how Michelle basically made fanfiction into a reality this is exactly what I've dreamed of for years

passive aggressive android boi

Ada: idk what kind of lover's spat y'all're having but can we get back to the case pls

Detective Nines... out loud... love it

chris chris no he's not flirting with- no!

party music Good is that original I must know

Thirium drink!

tina's gf is adorable

angey Nine

his face does from :D to D: so fast

how late did they stay up getting this scene

adskfjhksd blows smoke Directly in his face... bad gavin

'just like every other time' boy how many times has Gavin fled from intimacy... i mean i know the answer is a lot

oh no oh no he sees them go- he FOLLOWS THEM?

ada stop flirting hes ace

gavin stop! following him! ur only gonna be hurt

ooh eye effect is niceee

love the sound here?? glitchy

broken voice nooooooooo

i think they said that Maximillian had to wear a suit to do the white skin... sounds uncomfortable af

tina and gavin's friendship is so good in any media.. thank u

oh his memory files? have u seen the gay in there too?

ANGEY BOI

his hair

you can't just throw a red wall in there... I'm havin Thoughts now

hmmmmm whats with Ada's clothes? I don't think she was wearing that anywhere else? was it her system or his that came up with that?

red wall says contain RK900?? owo

Gavin was too jealous to notice hehe

'how does an android do that to other androids' "androids investigating androids"

I love tina's actor... gimme more of her pls

Chris can do such soft smiles as Gavin...

Nines getting reset?? there's an idea...

AN HOUR IN FUCK

h...hold hands... yea

can tina hear him??

so this is a love confession and I'm so totally okay with that

what does that beeping mean? are elevated heartrates (pump...rates) a good thing? he seemed excited

glitchy gavin good that is all

'i can't rebuild you' how much did you experience with him?? if he was just a version of Gavin who knew your feelings that would be one thing but...

oh god the cuddle..

really loving the glitchy audio all through this film

quick recovery lol

Chris sounded a lot less surprised than one would expect

Chris: coffee? what... OH

HIS JACKET,,, it looks so cute on Nines

'you love me' *cries*

HANDS AGAIN YES

KISS

AHH

why the fuck did they not keep your clothes what did they expect you to go home in WHOSE PANTS ARE YOU WEARING

their voices are so breathy nnnn

Chris: Oh you're GAY. I did not pick up on that at all.

where did nines get that jacket... i like it

ya just fucking hit her with a crowbar that's fine yeah

why do they fight like that hsbdhas like.. i know why it's bc it's movie magic but like w h y

ada sure does choke a lot of people in this movie

finally someone gets told they won't shoot and then they shoot gdi thank u

there's thirium on her shirt... nice detailing but like is she gonna bleed out

why does he assume she would forget everything just bc she deviated...

ohhh hes right is he gavin... love his character development ha

god Maximillian really is the best Nines... if a canon movie is ever made they're not allowed to cast anyone else

processing lol

who have you heard that from before gavin... i will kill them

yas ace rep

touching his fACE

wow this bit is..so gay

ANOTHER KISS

im fuckin... cry-laughing im dead im...

protestor has a name in the credits (tj)

the music here? amazing austin is a genius

im gonna need to take an hour to process...

im gonna have this movie on repeat for the next few weeks just. nonstop

[kvngjoong]

jisung + nsfw a-z

next is felix!! i forgot about my dissertation so need to work on that, but i’ll try to post it tomorrow, and if not next monday!

A: Aftercare

because han jisung is not only a sub, but a brat, he needs taking care of. he will demand all of your attention on him, so good luck if you wanted to do something else, because jisung is expecting you to take care of him, run him a bath, sit with him, play with his hair (and braid it, hmm?), then help him get to sleep. if you don’t, he will definitely complain about it

B: Body part

although there is a joke he literally loves your chest, he loves your hands more. he likes the way you stroke his skin so softly, he likes how you run your fingers through his hair when he’s in sub space, he especially loves the way that you so perfectly jack him off. for him, he loves his lips the most. he knows the effect he has on you because of them

C: Cum

he cums a lot. like a surprising amount. he enjoys making a show of it and having it all over your sheets, or your hands, so that he can lick it off. also likes having his cum on ur tiddies cause he thinks it looks pretty

D: Dirty Secret

jisung mentioned more than enough times that he wants to video you guys doing something sometime, and he does with your permission this one time. he first off doesn’t admit that he enjoys being a bit of a slut on camera, but it’s pretty easy to see it the next time you watch it and he’s practically got his tongue out and begging for more. second, he doesn't admit how many times he actually got off to that video, and each time you bring it up he’ll get all shy because.. did he just pop a boner?

E: Experience

he knows a damn lot about what he’s doing, but he doesn’t actually have any real experience. probably because he was too busy fantasizing about what could be happening or just he was generally busy. but yeah, he knows what he’s doing and he knows what he wants

F: Favourite Position

literally anything which gives him a chance to touch your tiddies. no joke, he loves it when you ride him, no matter what part of him you’re actually riding. face, cock, thigh… he’s into it (if you’re not wearing a shirt or you’re wearing one of his and it’s kinda see through.. you understand)

G: Goofy

jisung is a brat. do you know what that means? he will make jokes, he will tease you by acting like you’re not affecting him. he generally has a more relaxed approach to nsfw stuff, but he uses it to his advantage too. he’ll get what he wants from you by keeping his happy charm as though he’s completely oblivious to the fact that you're trying to turn him on, or something like that

H: Hair

he’s still pretty young and probably didn’t get the memo to shave anything. but when he gets closer to you he wants to take pride in his appearance and will probably start shaving. not that he has much of it to begin with, he probs doesn’t have much hair altogether anyway

I: Intimacy

he acts like he doesn’t care all that much, but jisung is a sensitive baby and everything means so much to him. especially when he’s laying in your arms afterwards and he looks up to you like you’re his entire world. it’s kinda obvious as well when your sex is a little less kinky and you just wanna show him how much he cares, he will respond the exact same way. but he’s definitely more intimate outside of nsfw stuff

J: Jack Off

He can go all the time, any time. So he jacks off a lot. It may be something that’s hard to control when you first get together because he will be pretty demanding that you help him out each time, but eventually he resorts to just recording it each time so you get to see him jacking off on his own instead

K: Kink

oh hey did someone say the worst power bottom of them all? yeah. he’s a brat, but he knows what he’s doing. he knows what to say to get you riled up, he knows how to move and how to push your buttons. but he likes annoying you because when you get a bit rougher that just takes him to another level. so he’s a masochist too. there’s a whole list of them. he’s a sub. praise kink, teasing, shower sex, practically anywhere sex, he literally is a book of kinks - some of which you might not even know

L: Location

uh.. anywhere. literally. he doesn’t have many boundaries. it doesnt matter that he’s an introvert, all his inhibitions are lost when he’s needy. unless it’s somewhere super public. that isn’t to say he isn’t one to join the mile high club, cause he thinks that would be pretty hot. jisung thinks a lot of things are pretty hot, actually

M: Motivation

he doesn’t need anything other than you. he’ll be talking to you one time and remember when you stuck a butt plug in him and outright say to you what he’s thinking about. he’ll be working on a song and remember when you bit his collar bone a bit harder than usual, then he’ll run out to call you for a little phone conversation whilst he’s in the disabled bathroom (privacy ofc). so his own creeping thoughts

N: NO

he’s not very much into you calling him degrading names. as much as he likes you spanking him, edging him, etc, he gets a bit upset at the sound of you calling him a slut or whore (you get it). he doesn't seem himself that way, because even is he’s practically begging for you to make him cum over and over, he doesn’t do that for anyone else. he does it for you and only you

O: Oral

he gives and he receives. he loves both, no matter what mood he’s in. he loves how you feel when you suck him off and he also loves to show you how much he’s into you and also impress you with his skills. he’ll do it all just to hear you say how good he is. praise kink, anyone?

P: Pace

definitely on the quicker side no matter what he does. no need to ask him to go faster at all

Q: Quickie

a must have with someone like jisung. he’s frequent to a pout and pulling you into a side room because he really wants to show you just how hard he is for you. he doesn’t prefer them, but he definitely likes them

R: Risk

he thrives on the idea of getting caught. jisung is loud, and he most definitely could moan a bit loud so everyone else knows what he’s doing. it doesn’t embarrass him that much, depending on who might actually catch him doing something, but if someone caught him he would definitely get all cocky because hell yeah, you’re dating him

S: Stamina

usually sticks to a maximum of like 2 rounds, but they’re long. he can endure a lot, especially the longer you’ve been together

T: Toy

loves them all, lives for them, will actively look for them to be used on him. doesn’t really use them on you, but is one to sit back and watch you get off with one as he gets himself off, too. mutual masturbation is a good thing for him, providing that you use that toy on him afterwards, too

U: Unfair

as a brat, he is of course unfair. even with you as the dom, no matter what you do, he still has control somewhere because he’s the worst damn tease around. he’ll listen to your rules, he’ll nod as you tell him he can’t cum until you say, and he’ll do it anyway to get punished, but also because he knows it sends you one step closer to hell anyway. so he’s a tease and it’s completely intentional, especially when he says stuff around other people and smiles widely at you because he just kinda hinted at that one time you let him fuck your mouth… okay jisung

V: Volume

jisung is loud. not kind of loud, not a little bit loud, he is the very definition of loud. cover his mouth loud. have to gag him loud (which he likes). you’re gonna find it hard to keep anything a secret from others because jisung literally does not have a filter and if he likes something you’re doing, he’s gonna tell you and everyone within twenty metres. he talks, he whines, he moans, he whimpers… he is loud

W: Wild Card

it’s not often you were his shirts, and jisung has been begging you to just wear one bc he thinks it will be cute. eventually you give into him and you decide to wear one when you get out of the shower one evening, and jisung was really not expecting you to just have his shirt and a thong on, and he practically fell to his knees at the sight. needless to say you were back in the shower twenty minutes later with jisung following close behind

X: X-Ray

he’s a tiny boy, so probably on the smaller side. it would be a bit weird if he was unexpectedly big, but hey, he has other stuff to work with

Y: Yearning

oh, jisung yearns for you a lot. the amount of pictures he sends when he’s meant to be working, the times he’s pulled you into the bathroom and begged you to do something to help him out, it’s easy to see that jisung has an insatiable need that only you can fulfill. have fun!

Z: ZZZ

he has a lot of energy, so he can’t really just sleep afterwards. he’ll not wanna do stuff with you, like go out and explore or something like that, but he’s happy to watch a movie. he loves just being with you, especially when he loses his bratty tones, so honestly after sex he’s so cuddly and cute that you’ll probably stay up for a bit and both fall asleep by accident

[thirsty-x1]

Come To Me | Lee Hangyul, Kim Yohan

Request:

hello 🥺 could i req a 99z scenario where hangyul is ur bf and he wants to have a threesome w yohan? and hangyul is more dominate towards u while yohan is more sub and wants to be praised by u and stuff if that makes sense jdjfjdjkj 😳🥺

Omg hi i’m the anon that was reading your kink post i was thinking about hangyul wanting to to anal w/ his s/o and her begging for it. Oof. Idk if anyone else requested something like that but if anyone did then theyre a genius. And if not it’s okay i’ll wait for the next time you open requests! I can be patient!!

↬ Pairing: Hangyul x fem!reader x Yohan

↬ Genre: Smut.

↬ Warnings: explicit language, rough!Hangyul, slight choking, degradation, dry humping, thigh riding, oral sex, fingering, double penetration, anal, unprotected/protected sex (?).

↬ Word Count: 3.8k

The sound of skin slapping filled the room, your face pressed against the mattress that swallowed all of your moans as Hangyul rammed into you intensely. Your grip on the bed sheets tightened at the same time that he yanked your hair, his other hand coming down harshly on your ass, adding to the already red marks that painted it and making you overly conscious of the butt plug inside of it before pulling you up, back pressed against his chest.

“Hangyul, please…” Your voice came out small and muffled between sobs, just the way he loved it.

“Hmmm, what is it baby? Is this not enough for you?” You shook your head but he ignored you anyway. “Are you afraid of someone walking in on use?” The way your breath hitched gave him the answer. “But wouldn’t you love that, whore? What if Yohan were to get in right now and found you like this?”

“F-fuck, stop, I can’t take it anymore…”

Nothing you said would make him stop now. “Bet you would love it if we both filled your holes up at the same time–” Your walls clenched at the thought, making him hiss and interrupt himself. “Aren’t you quite the slut? About to cum at the thought of Yohan’s cock?”

All the air in your lungs seemed to dissipate as he slid one of his hands up your chest, closing it around your throat and pressing slightly, enough to make you dizzy, grunting when he felt you cum on him and following you just a few thrusts after, spilling inside of you. His kisses seemed almost feather-like as he became sweeter, massaging your legs and caressing your sensitive skin before letting you go and finding some cloth to clean you up, cuddling next to you before whispering soft praises.

“You know… we could invite Yohan over.”

“What are you talking about?” Your slurred words made him smile, feeling proud of tiring you out so quickly.

“He once confessed to me that he would like to fuck you.” You turned around in a swift motion, eyes opening wide before he continued. “He was drunk and thought I was Wooseok.”

“What?!”

“I know, right? How could he confuse me with him, I’m taller and all–”

You shut him up. “Not by much.” Before he could complain, you went on. “Would you really be okay with that?”

Hangyul cocked an eyebrow. “So you really would like that, huh?” He pinned your arms down before you could smack him. “It would be a nice way to prove you that no one else can do it like me.”

And that was all it really took. Your boyfriend’s ego… it could be extremely sensitive, and the fact that he gave in to the experience despite his usual possessiveness was definitely something new. As the days passed, you started to think if it was the right choice, especially since Yohan wasn’t really answering to the request that Hangyul had made.

The screen playing the usual drama lighted up your face when you received a message ordering you to wear the new white lingerie set. It was usual for him to text you something like that, asking you to put on a specific outfit or wait for him in some kind of posture, most of the times it meant he had a rough day, but with that night’s promise in your mind you couldn’t help but to wish that the reason would be just a tiny bit different right now.

You changed into the clothes, your insides already buzzing with anticipation as you checked yourself out in the mirror. The sound of the keys on the door distracted you and you walked to the entrance, fixing the thigh highs before setting your hands behind your back, the heat spreading through your whole body as you saw the two males enter the apartment, a proud smirk plastered in one’s face while the other’s eyes were almost about to pop off.

“Welcome home, you worked hard.” It was the greeting you would always give to Hangyul, most of the times innocently, but for some reason it sounded incredibly lewd the moment you saw Yohan’s ears turn completely red.

“You complied so eagerly, not even replying to my text… guess you are happy that Yohan is here?” It was your turn to blush now while being exposed so blatantly by your boyfriend. “He is quite happy as well. Could you help him out?”

He was giving you the opportunity to give the final step and choose whether you were ready to do so or not, but there wasn’t a single stray of doubt in your body as you walked past him, holding Yohan’s hand softly and pulling him to the room, your heart beating faster as he followed without resistance. You signaled him to sit on the bed, your palms resting against his thighs as you leaned in to ask the definite outcome.

“Do you feel comfortable with this? You can say no, don’t worry.” His eyes went from you to Hangyul to the cleavage of your breasts hugged by the lacy fabric of your bra before nodding hurriedly. “I prefer you use your words.”

Yohan eyes went big and then closed for a second, trying to control the bulge between his legs at your tone. “Y-yes, I’m fine with all… this…” His words started to fall as you straddled him, Hangyul smirking at your boldness.

“You can do whatever you want as long as she gives you permission, don’t mind me.” His deep voice seemed to bring Yohan back to his senses, his head turning to him and nodding once more.

It was about time and getting familiar with the sensation, both for you and for him. There was something about being with another guy in front of your boyfriend that made you feel slightly uncomfortable whilst also incredibly turned on, wondering how would both of them react to each of your actions and whether there would be good or bad consequences afterwards.

All those thoughts seemed to drift off as you felt a strong pair of hands resting on your hips, Yohan gulping when you stared right into his eyes before getting closer and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was… different from what you were used to. With Hangyul, everything was passionate, needy and even aggressive, usually none of you holding back one bit and ending up in a messy state, even when it was something slight it would always end up with one of you biting the other’s bottom lip or licking it, but Yohan was nothing like that. Instead, he was shy, patient, his plump lips becoming a sinful tease as he went deliberately slow, as if he was afraid of committing a mistake, but the more you replied to his touch, the eager he became, sighing into the kiss when you ground down on him.

If Hangyul always felt like pure adrenaline, Yohan was the sweetest sensuality. You rolled your hips, swallowing his breathy voice each time you grazed his clothed erection, enjoying the blush on his cheeks that followed while he apologized. Everything was going well, but not for your boyfriend, the slow burn driving him crazy as he decided to take the matter into his own hands, pulling you off of his friend’s lap.

“Did I do something wrong?” The small voice made your heart clench a bit and you quickly shook your head.

“He can’t deal with something being slow.”

He huffed, unbuttoning the other’s jeans, the expression on Yohan’s face making it hard for you not to laugh as Hangyul took them off followed by his shirt. “It’s too slow. Now sit here, you always talk about how nice his thighs are so there, ride him.”

Again, he exposed you but Yohan was pleased with it, smiling a bit as he patted on the skin. It made you a little bit nervous, the whole showing yourself to an almost stranger, letting him know how you acted in these kind of situations… you hadn’t thought about it before, about how you were going to look at him the next time that all of the group got to meet up or when he would come over with Seungyoun and Wooseok to have a movie night.

“So you like my thighs?” Dirty talking wasn’t something you were going to expect coming from him, not considering how shy he would get at every single thing you did.

Your hips started moving on their own, your eyes closed as you focused on his voice whispering on your ear how much he liked to feel you like this. Your core got wetter and wetter, the friction between the material of your underwear and his skin being too much to resist, a moan leaving your mouth as he clenched his muscles, stimulating your clit and his hands pressing you down more on him.

“Your confidence shoot up quite fast.” You joked as your hand came up to his hair, yanking on it as he let out a small cry. “Such a good boy pleasing me.” His eyes showed all the emotions he was barely holding in, lips slightly parted as your palmed his cock. “It’s only fair I give you some reward.”

It took everything in you to gather up the strength to leave his leg and falling to your knees, your mouth watering as you freed his hard on from his briefs, springing out and standing proud against his stomach. Yohan hissed as you grabbed it, your tongue darting out to lick the precum on the tip before spitting on it, your hand quickly spreading it along his length and starting to jack him off. His tiny gasps whenever you would tease his tip were intoxicating, his flavor making you hum before you felt a hand forcing you down all of a sudden, gagging as his thickness throbbed in your throat.

“Don’t be so conceited, slut. Show him how good you can take cock.”

Hangyul kept you there, his eyes fixed on Yohan who had thrown his head back, his wet thighs shaking at the sensation before letting you go, petting your head as you coughed trying to catch your breath. He kneeled right beside you, fingers slipping past the band of your panties and raising an eyebrow as he felt how wet you were, your body flinching as he inserted two fingers inside in one go.

“Hangyul–”

“Keep sucking, next you will be taking me in that pretty mouth so better loosen up your jaw.”

You went back at your task not without noticing the slight furrowed brows in Yohan’s expression as if he was disapproving his friend and the way he treated you, so you gave his thigh a slight squeeze so that he would relax, smiling before you took his dick into your mouth again, your hands softly massaging his balls as you took him wholly. Hangyul kept fingering you, the wet noises tinting the other’s cheeks and as soon as he noticed, your boyfriend pulled them off of you and in front of Yohan’s mouth, your stomach turning as he obediently sucked on them.

“Fuck… let me taste you, please.”

Despite asking you for permission, he didn’t really wait for an answer as he pulled you up, getting up to change his position on the bed, laying on his back as he looked at you getting rid of your damped panties and straddling his face. Not even a second later he was devouring you, lapping at your juices as one of his hands kept you still and down while using the other to touch himself. His tongue was skillful, not letting one millimeter of your pussy without exploring, lips closing around your clit for a few seconds before going back to taste you completely.

The pleasure flooded you, your eyes shutting tightly as you focused on the feeling until Hangyul gripped your hair, his cock hard and slightly red waiting for your attention. He smeared his precum on your lips before burying himself in your mouth, grunting as he reached the back of your throat and starting to fuck your face roughly, your moans muffled against him while Yohan inserted his tongue in your hole, dick twitching as he felt you tightening up. You tapped twice on Hangyul’s thigh and he pulled away quickly, checking on you and cleaning the saliva that dripped down your lips.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” He laughed at the tears in your eyes. “Why don’t you work for it then?”

Yohan groaned as Hangyul took both of his hands and put them above his head, a silent warning for him to not do anything laid in the air as you let out a whimper, moving your hips to ride his face while holding his hair, your legs starting to shake, your moans getting higher as you felt the edge near… and right then was when your boyfriend pulled you away. You were about to complain when Yohan freed from Hangyul’s grip, turning you around quickly and eating you out wildly, fingers deep inside of you, smiling as he heard your gasps for air, cumming on his mouth.

When he noticed Hangyul’s look, Yohan simply replied with a: “You get to make her cum every day, I don’t.”

“You could…” You were on the bed, trying to recover from the intense orgasm. “Thank you, Yohan. That was… amazing.”

Up until now, he had been perfectly okay, but hearing you praise him with a thin voice made him feel shy all over again, his cock twitching as he replayed the way your body reacted to his touch before licking his fingers clean once more. Seeing the whole situation, Hangyul felt a little threatened, as if the power had slipped off his hands and somehow ended up with nothing instead.

“Use him.” Both of you turned to him, confused at his tone. “He wants to be used by you, so use him. Ride him.”

“But I just came–”

“Did I stutter?” You fell silent at his tone, eyeing Yohan and feeling slightly guilty when you realized just how hard he was. “Fix what you caused, y/n. Right now.”

Shivers ran up and down your spine at the mention of your name, letting you know he wasn’t happy and that he would most definitely let it out on you. Whether that would be now or later wasn’t clear, but all you could do was follow his orders, getting on top of Yohan and slowly letting you down on his members, holding back a moan when he filled you completely, the oversensitivity making you need to stop for a bit. Apparently, he felt the same, resting his forehead on your chest as he tried not to ram into you, leaving small hickeys on the valley of your breasts before getting rid of your bra and tossing it to Hangyul before his lips closed around one of your nipples, gently grazing them with his teeth before sucking in harshly.

While you tried to focus on controlling your sensitivity, another pair of lips were on your neck, a cold sensation on your other hole as Hangyul’s fingers spread the lube on it before sliding in and scissoring them, softly stretching you out while biting on your skin. Yohan’s breathing hitched up as he felt your walls suddenly clenching down on him, almost pushing him to his own orgasm.

“I d-don’t think I’ll last much…” His voice had become whiny, his eyes hazy as he bucked upwards.

“Just wait a bit more, baby boy, just a bit more and you can cum inside me.” Your words seemed to flick a switch on inside of him, greedily looking into your eyes, throwing his head back when Hangyul harshly spanked your ass causing you to tighten again.

“You decided that on your own?” Another spank landed on your butt cheek. “Greedy whore… then I guess I will be claiming this one then.”

A sudden rush of excitement filled your body. He had been preparing you for quite some time with different sized plugs and other toys, but to think that today was going to be the first time for him to finally fuck your asshole made you impossibly wetter. He grabbed a condom, taking care to spread the lube on his cock as well before pressing against your entrance, the pain being momentarily as he had already stretched you out enough. Right when it looked like he was about to enter you completely, he stopped and pulled out, his teasing being enough for you to catch the indirect.

“Please… please fuck my ass.” It wasn’t enough, apparently, since he slapped his member against your entrance a few more times. “F-fuck, Hangyul, just put it in–!”

In a second he was half way inside you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back before continuing, throwing his head back at the tightness, getting to feel barely how your other hole was completely full as well. You dug your nails on Yohan’s shoulder, opening your eyes only to find yourself with him covered in sweat and breathing heavily as now both of them were buried deep within you, also both completely still but for different reasons. As soon as you got used to the new feeling, you rocked your hips backwards, a choked out moan leaving all of you at the friction and you did it again, the pit of your stomach tightening at the feeling of fullness.

However, you didn’t have the control much longer: Hangyul gripped your hips and started slamming into you, the sound of skin slapping sounding much louder and lewd than usual whilst Yohan rammed your pussy, your juices adding to the symphony you were creating and making you feel so much shyer than before. It was impossible to hold back your moans, the new experience numbing out all of your senses while also taking them to an extreme all at the same time, having both of them hit new spots with each thrust.

“What a slut… loving to get both of your holes drilled by us at the same time…” Hangyul’s husky voice wasn’t helping you keep your composure at all. “Love to have us stretch you out, ruining you… let yourself go, baby, show Yohan how you really are.”

The boy underneath you seemed almost completely gone, but his stare was fixed on you, biting his lip unconsciously as he tried not to cum at the view of your breasts bouncing, your hair sticking to your neck, the slight coat of sweat making you shine under the dim lights of the bedroom, your swollen lips looking incredibly inviting as you started to let out tiny cries, trying to mumble something coherent.

“Y-Yohan… Yohan, please make me cum, please, please, I can’t take it anymore, please…” That might have just been the death of him. You were completely fucked out and begging for him, not anyone else, to make you cum.

He aimed at your clit, groaning as you flinched and clenched your walls around him, the sensitive nub sending a mix of pleasure and pain to your whole system as he rubbed it quickly applying a little bit of pressure. You felt a wave wash over you, your mind going blank as you felt your high hit you, leaving you with no strength before he stilled his hips and spilled inside of you, whispering an apology against your skin while fucking you through your orgasms.

“What a good girl, aren’t you? But now it’s my turn.” He held you up, having you in the same position as the day he talked to you into this whole fantasy. “Look how pretty he looks, completely wrecked thanks to your beautiful pussy.” He gave a quick slap to your core, humming when you tightened. “Such a good fuck toy.”

“Hangyul… Hangyul, it’s too much, I don’t think I can–” His hand closed around your throat loosely, shutting you up.

“You will take whatever I give you, and give me whatever I want to take from you.” Each of his words were emphasized by his thrusts, two of his fingers getting inside of you along Yohan’s softening cock, the stretching making both of you react to it. “And what I want right now is for you to squirt all over him. C’mon baby, come to me.”

His words added to the experienced touch had you crumbling instantly, Yohan pulling out of you right on time as your juices gushed out, wetting the bed and him, a whimper leaving his lips at the feeling as he jerked off his cock once more, flinching at the contact but it was just too good of a scene to not do it. Hangyul was pleased, a small praise leaving his lips before turning into a groan, filling the condom with his seed and placing kisses on your shoulder as he pulled out carefully, tying a knot on the preservative and throwing it to the bin.

The three of you were laying down, not really caring about your bodies covered in sweat, juices and cum anymore, staring into the ceiling while trying to process everything that had just happened. Your whole body was starting to ache, both of your holes being sore, but somehow it was the first time that you had felt this fulfilled and satisfied, although you would never admit it to your boyfriend.

After a few hours and a shower later, the three of you were about to eat, Hangyul going out to grab some food at your favorite place, leaving you and Yohan alone. Like you had expected, there was a tiny bit of awkwardness, although you two had been extremely open not too long ago. Maybe it was the excessive exposure what made you feel so shy now, but it was hard to make eye contact with him.

“I- uh, I wanted to say that… it was r-really good.” The way he stuttered made him look even cuter and there was no one on this universe that could resist to his silly nervous laugh.

“I enjoyed it a lot too. You were really good…” Just thinking about the way he ate you out was enough to have your cheeks blushing, eyes dropping to his lips. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as a compliment, and that boosted his ego, getting closer to you while barely whispering against your mouth. “Will you come to me, then?”

You couldn’t answer to his question, the sound of the door opening making you both pull away quickly and he went to help Hangyul out. Your heart raced, mind running wild with thoughts about what he could have meant with that. Was there more behind it than just pure lust? Or was it some kind of invitation to have another round? It wasn’t good to give it that much attention, but sitting on the table and face both guys made you feel nervous.

Why not come to both of you?

this is a sinful pair and it’s not safe for my heart thanks

~Nani

| Masterlist |

[choonlo]

Hey ⑇ p.js

a park jisung oneshot

genre : fluff

wc : 4k

The screams got noticeably louder when a familiar tune began to play from the speakers.

A bead of sweat trickled from the side of your forehead down to your neck as you desperately tried to fan yourself with your hands. Joined by a few other fans, the six members of NCT Dream were in the middle of the crowd, dancing to their latest song, "Boom". You hadn't expected this to happen—actually, none of the people here had, not even the host of the occasion. It was merely a coincidence, you thought. For Korean idols to appear and eventually join this random K-Pop dance event was something out of a fangirl's dream, your dream, and everyone else's for that matter.

As you rapped Jaemin's lines along with the crowd, you let your eyes take in as much of your bias as you could. Park Jisung was indeed just a few meters away from you. Hell, you hadn't had the chance to go to concerts your whole life, but guess what? Your very first one was free, and it was better than those VIP seats that you couldn't afford with the five bucks you called your "savings".

It was hot. It felt like the sun's rays were stabbing your skin, and the heat from being squished in the middle of the cluster of sweaty bodies certainly didn't help either. You ignored the pounding in your head and focused on Jisung who was now dancing to Chewing Gum. The corners of your lips twitched upward. It's been years since the song was released, and you could still remember the curly hair that had brought you into the fandom.

Despite the obvious changes from 2016 Jisung and the present, you could still feel the childlike innocence that radiated from him, the absolute cuteness that caught your eye when you first watched their debut video.

Minutes passed, and they were finally done. The host was now talking to the group, thanking them as each of the members took their turn in shaking his hand. Most of the people were filming the moment, wanting to have something to remember the experience with. You would've been doing the same, but you weren't. It didn't occur to your mind that you should've been doing something like taking a picture, of recording a video on your phone. Instead of doing any of these, you screamed.

"I LOVE YOU PARK JISUNG!"

You had screamed at the top of your lungs, your shrill voice piercing through and drowning out every other noise. Silence suddenly existed in the busy area you were in thanks to you, and you hadn't noticed what you'd done until Jisung's eyes locked with yours.

Actually, all eyes were on you, but it was as if you and Jisung were the only ones there, as cliché as it sounded. Was it mentioned that you were wearing a shirt with Jisung's name and face imprinted on it? And that your backpack was embedded with NCT enamel pins, half of them being, again, Jisung's face. Well, now you remembered.

Finally, you snapped out of your trance and slapped a hand over your mouth, face flushing when you realised the amount of attention being directed to you. A few people started laughing, giggling, whatever. Some went "aww" at your adorable reaction. This made you look down at your feet, and because you did so, you failed to see how Jisung's cheeks reddened, too.

×

Having finished your grieving session, you walk down the stairs to grab a glass of water, phone in hand. You've been wailing in your room for the past few hours, and you basically let your heart out as your parents weren't home yet. But you were probably loud enough that your neighbours may have thought of calling the police, which they thankfully hadn't.

"Legit, I wouldn't be surprised if Jisung has a fanboy crush on you right now," Kim clicked her tongue, her voice seemingly laced with excitement.

Videos of NCT Dream's appearance earlier had started to circulate the internet, not one from any of the social media platforms you used didn't have at least ten posts about the afternoon event downtown.

Of course, that wasn't what had gotten you riled up.

There were clips dedicated to you, most having your face clearly shown in them. Notifications from your phone blew up the moment you got home, friends and strangers spamming you with messages, and you weren't surprised that some even had threats.

Apparently, a lot had seen how Jisung reacted, and some speculations of you being someone more than a fan began to spread across the whole fandom. Oh boy, how you wished.

"Um, no," you retorted, placing the glass on the coaster as you plopped yourself onto the couch. "Did you even see my face in those videos? I looked like crap! Jisung probably felt embarrassed!"

"That's not the overly confident Y/N I know," Kim laughed through the phone. You roll your eyes at her comment. "You looked cute! Like, you looked haggard as fuck, but it was the pretty type of haggard!"

"What does that even mean?" You were annoyed, but you couldn't help but laugh at her statement. "This isn't a fanfiction, Kim."

She groaned, "Oh shut up, ten bucks to you if you don't get involved with NCT's Jisung within a month."

"Are you serious?" you replied, enthused. "You do know that I'm totally winning that bet?"

"Yeah, sure." As she spoke, you heard your phone emit a soft ring from the coffee table. You lean forward from the couch to peak at the screen, there was a notification from your social media, someone had just sent you a message.

"Was that yours?" Kim asked. Your response was a mere hum as you took the device into your hand. It was from a user whose name was literally "akzkjzjsj", and you almost ignored it if it weren't for Kim's comment; "I bet it's Jisung."

Squinting, you saw how the person's icon was a picture of the ceiling, nothing else but a light bulb in the image, like it had been taken just now for a one time use.

akzkjzjsj

: hey

Curious, you were. It didn't seem like a bot. Maybe the person would give you threats, too? It made sense, as it was an account that had just been made.

PJiuwusuwung

: whats up?

akzkjzjsj

: do u know nct

You scoffed, wasn't that already obvious? Ignoring Kim's voice, you typed in a reply.

PJiuwusuwung

: this is legit a jisung fan account ur talking to

akzkjzjsj

: ok

: can we meet up tomorok?

: tomorrow*

PJiuwusuwung

: um what i dont even know u???

akzkjzjsj

: that dog cafe downtown tom at 3 pm

: Nthnkzs (:

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What?" you let out a confused noise, beginning to type once again.

PJiuwusuwung

: wtf !

: what makes u think i'll go !

: hEllo? !

Noticing that your messages weren't sending, you clicked on the person's icon. A wry laugh bubbled from your throat, the person had blocked you. You exited the application and placed the phone back onto the small table.

"Are you done ignoring me?" Kim's irritated voice made you sigh. "What happened? Wait! Don't tell me Jisung actually contacted you."

"No, it wasn't him," you began, "Some guy—or girl, just asked to meet up tomorrow at that dog cafe we go to a lot. And guess what? The asshole blocked me before I could even reply."

"Don't go," she said with a stern tone. "It might be sasaengs, you should be careful when going out. Some people can be dumb enough to do something crazy before thinking twice."

Kim was right, but you decided to brush it off. "Calm down, it's not like I was planning to go anyway," you chuckled lightly, shaking your head.

"Yeah, good to know."

×

"Dad, I'm going out!"

"Where to?" he questioned. Slipping your shoes on, you thought of what your best friend had told you the night before. You technically weren't going to the cafe. There was a sale in the small store downtown, and you didn't want to pass the chance to get your hands on K-Pop merch for lower prices. Obviously, you had to ask for money from your mother, and she was reluctant to give you any, but you had begged enough that she was finally just forced to do so.

"I'm going to meet up with Kim downtown."

"Have fun," he replied. "Don't stay out too late."

After half an hour, you finally arrived. You entered the store, but not without bumping into a few bodies, the place was filled with people after all. Noticing how many customers crowded around the NCT section, you lowered your cap, and you snickered silently. Why were you acting like this? You thought you were being too dramatic, they probably had no clue who you were, anyway.

Your hand hovered an inch above the mask you wore before you stopped, hearing the conversation of the girls by the stand.

"Have you seen that video Jisung? The one where he acted weird when that one fan suddenly screamed "I love you" out loud?" one of them asked, studying Jisung's photocard in her hand.

"Who hasn't? Ugh, seriously, I would've went if I had known that Dream would show up!" the other whined. "The girl is so lucky, all the members looked at her at the same time! I would sell my kidney just to experience that!"

A shiver ran down your spine. It certainly wasn't nice to hear people talking about you, even though it wasn't anything bad, it made you uncomfortable.

Saving the money given to you was undeniably the better option rather than staying here. Right when you turned your back to walk out of the store, your head bumped into someone's chest. You softly mumbled an apology and stepped aside.

A hand grabbed your arm, and you felt yourself stiffen. Fuck, were you recognized? You didn't even wear the bag you wore yesterday, and you had normal clothes on, not those unofficial NCT shirts you usually used. How could someone possibly. . You tried to jerk your arm away from the person's grasp, but his voice stopped you.

"Good thing you didn't remove your mask," he remarked before pulling you out of the store. You knew better than to attract attention to yourself and the boy, and because you had an idea of who he was, you didn't cry for help. Once the two of you were a good distance away from the shop, you pulled your arm out of his grip and stepped back.

"What do you—"

"Don't worry! I won't do anything to you," the boy chuckled, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. You look at him, he wasn't Jisung, the neon hair peaking out from the front of his hat said otherwise.

"Zhon—"

"Hey now! No blowing our covers!" Chenle hushed you as he crossed his arms, sending you a playful glare. He noticed your confused expression and sighed. "Why are you even here? Didn't we tell you to go to the dog cafe down the street?"

"Wh—" you paused. Realisation hits you like a truck and you gasp, hands moving to slap your cheeks. The person who had messaged you last night, the one who'd asked you to meet up. Was it Chenle?? "Why did you want to meet me?"

"Me? Oh no, not me! All we did was talk to you for Jisung," he explained, voice retreating to a soft whisper at the end of his sentence. Before he could say anything else, you cut him off.

"We?"

He tilted his head in confusion before letting out a sound and clasping his hands together. "I mean me, and the other members, aside from the youngest."

"You see," he continued, "Jisung basically developed a crush on you when he saw you yesterday! He couldn't stop asking himself, and us, what your name was and if he was your favourite among all the members—which was obvious because his face was literally on your shirt."

Chenle shuts his mouth, realising what he was doing. "I'm sorry for babbling. Jisung's waiting for you in the cafe, you should go now!"

He twirls you around and gives your back a push, snapping you out. "Wait, I—"

"Follow me," another boy shows up in front of you. You feel your head pound from everything that's happening, but you follow him nonetheless as he crosses the street. It takes the two of you a few minutes to get to the doors of the cafe, and you almost feel like fainting right there and then.

"I-I still have so many questions," you stare up at the person who escorted you to the cafe. The familiar eyes were enough for you to know that you were talking to Lee Jeno. "Can I pleas—"

"You should get in and sit down," he assured, giving you a pat on the shoulder. "You'll have your questions answered in there."

You nodded your head and tiredly pushed passed the door, the bell ringing from the motion. Puppies started to swarm around your feet, and you began to feel better as you squatted down in an attempt to stop the dizziness you felt.

As you pet the small poodle softly on its head, you take notice of the person who knelt beside you. Raising your head, your eyes immediately meet his. Jisung's face blushes a bright red, and you head the choked howling from the other side of the cafe. The other three members were clearly here.

"H-Hey," he uttered softly, averting his gaze onto the puppies that played with you. "I'm Park Jisung."

Despite the awkwardness, you didn't stop the laugh that bubble from your throat, and Jisung was glad that you didn't, because your voice truly was music to his ears.

"You didn't have to introduce yourself, Jisung." You wanted to give yourself a good ol' pat on the back as you smiled at him, making him even more flustered than before. It was weird, you should've been the one unable to talk properly! He was your idol, after all.

"Do you—I—uh, should—" Jisung was being the exact meme you'd expected him to be, and you felt your lips twitch at his cuteness.

"Let's take a seat on the tables—I mean chairs, the chairs, yes," he kept on stammering, standing up and holding a hand out for you. Now it's your turn to be awkward, staring at his hand for a long time before feeling the heat rise up to your ears.

"Oh, I'm supposed to—" you took his hand and stood up. The other members couldn't stop themselves from making noise. Chenle, who had already entered silently from behind the two of you, would've burst out laughing if it weren't for the four covering his mouth.

The two of you settle at the table further inside of the cafe, cautious of the fans that may possibly pass by. Jisung sat across from you, facing away from the transparent walls. Silence lasted for a long moment before he finally spoke up, "So, how long have you been a fan of our group?"

You looked up from the puppy on your lap and bit back a smile. He actually spoke without stuttering this time. "I started liking NCT when I saw Dream's debut video."

You saw the interest sparkle from Jisung's eyes as he leaned forward, intrigued. "I was actually skeptical about it first, because I wasn't quite a fan of cutesy concepts. But once I watched it, your unit became my favourite group."

"Why's that?" he wondered, tilting his head to the side cutely. An action so adorable that it made your heart skip a beat.

"W-Well, first of all, the song was catchy," you shifted on your seat, avoiding his gaze. "The vocals and raps were everything. I even spent my time trying to learn the choreography!"

You were about to start talking again before you remembered who was sitting in front of you. It was hard to do anything when you knew that the Park Jisung was giving all his attention to you.

The corners of Jisung's mouth quirked into a grin, he knew his effect on you, but he didn't want that to ruin this rare opportunity to be able to spend his time with someone he liked. "Hey." His voice made your shoulders jump. "Let's try to be comfortable with each other. Just talk to me, and I'll listen."

Because I want to get to know you better.

"Actually," he began when you finally faced him, "I was wondering if—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Renjun's voice startled the both of you, and Jaemin had to slap his shoulder to stop him from giggling. "Your drinks are with us,"

The two boys moved to the side of your table and placed each beverage on the coaster provided. Your eyebrows raise when you realize that the one given to you was your favourite. Jaemin was beaming, and seeing Renjun give you a polite smile, you decided not to question it and thanked them before they retreated back to their spot.

Either they stalked you hardcore, or they asked the lady in the counter for your usual.

"G-Go on," you shyly urge Jisung to continue, looking down into the glass as you look a sip from the straw.

"Can I get your number?"

He'd said it so softly, so sweetly, and oh so smoothly that you almost choked, shocked at his straightforward question. You face becomes beet red and you clumsily try to get an answer out.

Jisung sees how you react and panics as well, "I m-mean you don't have to! I just—"

"It's okay!" you cut him off, shaking your head profusely. He went silent, and so did you, not knowing what to say. What's next? Your mind was a total mess as you tried to think. Finally, you decided on getting your phone out, but he beats you to it, handing you his phone with a new contact ready to be added.

He knew that your first da—meeting, wouldn't go well. Jisung was an idol, and you were his fan. Although he was glad that you didn't go brain-dead, it was still a shame that the two of you couldn't speak to each other properly as it was, clearly, awkward.

That's why he thought that getting your number would be best, as he could easily talk to you without you seeing him get flustered about everything you did. It was an idea that he was proud of, so he couldn't help but bite his lip in an attempt to hide his smile as he watched you type in your number.

"H-Here," you return the gadget, looking away embarrassed and bewildered. Park Jisung asked you for your number. Park Jisung has your number. Park Jisung plans to contact you after all of this. The Park Jisung, actually knows you?

Jisung shot up from his seat, arm sticking out ready to catch you when you almost fell off your seat sideways. He moved to kneel beside you, pressing a hand onto your forehead and taking your wrist into the other, "Are you okay?"

It felt like your body was on fire when he touched you. "I-I-I am! Yeah, I'm good! Totally good!" you yelped, gently peeling his hand away from your head.

"But you're hot to the touch!" he protested.

"That's because I'm blushing!" you shook your head, pulling him up to stand. "I'm not sick, I'm just flustered."

"O-oh," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry, it's not your fault!" Well it is his fault, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING? You mentally slapped yourself and opened your mouth to speak.

"I—"

"Jisung!" a voice softly hissed. Donghyuck moved hastily, slamming his hands onto the table harshly. He turns to your and gives you a smile. "Hello, Y/N."

"Hi?"

The boy laughs and turns back to his friend, shooting Jisung a panicked glare. "We have to go. Now. The manager is looking for us!"

Both your eyes widen and the two of you stand up in unison. Haechan pats Jisung on the chest before hurrying back, and Jisung looks back at you.

"I can see that you have to go," you gestured to the boys in chaos from the other side of the room. You quickly took notice of the apologetic face he had. "Don't be sorry, I understand. Now go! I don't want any of you getting in trouble."

Jisung nodded and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your breath hitched when he pecked your cheek before he runs out of the store with the other members, but not without sending you a last wave. You stood there, dumbfounded, a hand on the place where Jisung had kissed you.

A moment passes and you finally recollect yourself, staggering toward the counter to pay for the drinks you had. The lady smiled and returned the money, "Those boys already paid."

You uttered a soft "oh" before nodding your head and walking out of the cafe. Damn, the past hour felt like an eternity! You were dead on your feet when you arrived home, and you quietly made your way upstairs to your room as your father's snores echoed through the living room.

Crashing down onto the softness of your bed, you let out a tired moan. It didn't take long before you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

×

A vibration from your leg woke you up, and you groaned as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room. You yawned, stretching your arms out and arching your back. "That was one hell of a dream."

You reached for the phone that had gotten out of your pocket, and you blink. Why were you wearing the clothes you had on in your dream? A gasp escapes your lips and you quickly unlock your phone. An unknown number had sent you a message.

Unknown #

: hey

: its mee

You

: who is me?

: j88sufn?

: jisung??

Fingers shaking, you clicked your tongue as you had wanted to slap yourself for being so nervous.

Unknown #

: your one and only :))

You wanted to yell at the top of your lungs, but all that came out was a croak, your voice getting stuck down your throat.

You

: BUT i thought it was a dream?

: are u messing w me

The person takes time to respond before the bubble disappears. Instead, they sent a picture of you playing with the dog in the cafe you were in earlier.

Unknown #

: certainly wasn't a dream

: anywayyy how r u?

You take a full minute to process what was happening and slowly let your thumbs type.

UWUSUNG

: hold that thought

: i gtg for practice, i'll ttyl c:

: ♥️

What? Did Jisung just send you a heart? You, Y/N L/N, could talk to Park Jisung anytime you wanted to. It felt like a dream, like you were being one of those delusional fangirls. But you weren't, because this was real, you concluded after biting onto your arm.

You hadn't sent a reply back after that, as it was too much for you to take in. This only happens when your crush is in the same school as you, not when your crush is an actual idol from SM Entertainment!

You almost threw your phone the moment it rang, someone was calling you. Was it Jisung? No! He left to practice!

The contact "Kim✨😘" flashed from the screen and you sighed in relief, feeling your shoulders relax before you answered the call. Not waiting for her to make a sound, you squealed into the mic, earning a shout from her.

"What the actual FUCK?" she growled. You shrugged her clear annoyance off and started rambling about what happened. Kim, on the other hand, couldn't understand a word you were saying, telling you to shut up.

"Okay, calmly, tell me what happened," she told you, letting you breathe in normally. As you were about to speak, your phone vibrated, and you held it in front of you to check the screen. Jisung had sent you a picture of himself, although it seemed like it was taken by someone else. He was posing for the camera, a sheepish grin on his face as he went with the awkward peace sign.

You let out a laugh at this, finding the picture, which was presumably taken by Chenle, cute. You replied with a heart after saving the image.

"Hey." You heard her huff. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Hey," you repeated, lips a permanent smile. "Let's meet up tomorrow."

"Sure, but why?"

"Because you're getting your ten bucks tomorrow."

[valkavavaart]

hi im bored so im doing an oc thing

i decided i wannan do this w multiple soooo im going wwww ophelia, alice, and beatrice thats all bye

1. how easy is it to make them angry? do they show their anger or hide it?

ophelia - it's kinda easy to get under her skin, and she holds a grudge so if u piss her off then she won't forget it. but also she doesn't really ACT on grudges, she'll just be a little rude next time u talk to her. she doesnt really show much emotion but does kind of having a permanent :| or >:| on her face, so she'll look annoyed even if she isn't...

beatrice - generally just being rude or annoying will make her mad, but she gets over things within seconds and doesn't take people all that seriously to begin with, so it's not like pissing her off will do much. she'll be like pouty and tell u to knock it off, but she also doesnt rlly care

alice - it's difficult to make alice mad. like you have to be SO annoying or hurt him in such a drastic way for him to get pissed. usually when hes mad hes still all smiley and happy tho so he'd kinda just be >:)

2. do they believe in soulmates

ophelia - she believes in them in the sense that one person may have multiple people that can come into their lives and be considered a soulmate bc nothing is permanent and blah blah blah she doesnt rlly care tho

beatrice - she doesn't believe in soulmates but enjoys soulmate au fanfiction

alice - he definitely believes in soulmates and fate drawing people together, but is conistantly disappointed when he finds out people he like arent destined to stay with him

3. do they have any pet peeves?

ophelia - people with no concept of personal space (unless theyre like merrick or one of her close friends)

beatrice - ppl who eat w their mouth open

alice - the sound of violins

4. do they have a happy place? somewhere they go in their heads when they need to relax?

ophelia - oph just goes to the library man

beatrice - she doesnt need one bc shes always vibing

alice - when the man needs to relax hes either drunk as hell or hanging out with as many friends as he can get together, spending time alone with his thoughts is literally a nightmare for alice

5. at what stage of their life were they the happiest?

ophelia - the current stage of her life

beatrice - there hasnt been a stage where beatrice hasnt had fun :) she doesnt have anything to worry about!

alice - the current stage of his life

6. at what stage of their life were they the least happy

ophelia - the ages of 12-17

alice - any time he gets to the point in a relationship where he breaks up w someone and then he goes into "my life sucks wahhhh" mode for a few months

7. at a bar are they more likely to buy someone a drink, or have someone buy them a drink?

ophelia & beatrice - have someone else buy them a drink

alice - buy someone a drink

8. have they ever broken any bones? if yes, how?

ophelia - when her powers manifested at the age of 12, oph lost the ability to feel physical pain which lead to her straining herself more. she'd get into accidents or push herself too hard because she couldn't feel that it hurt and wold get injured through that (and she still does, but she has more knowledge of her limits now) so i guess she wouldve broken some bones through stuff thanks to that.

beatrice - never ever broken a bone!! she drinks a lot of milk to keep her bones STURDY :)

alice - has broken like his arm or fingers or just anything in that area due to a fight or something. he'll probably have broken a leg at some point too. again, probably in a fight. or maybe he fell out a tree. who knows.

9. do they have any memories/experiences they'd rather forget?

ophelia - she generally wants to brush most of her teen years away and forget things relating to her family, but also cant bring herself to hate them despite how garbage they are, so,

beatrice - there are probably a few conversations she's had with alice and percy that she's like to never remember ever again

alice - he cherishes all his memories, good or bad! he always thinks that he can learn from his mistakes and hardships! even though all he does is repeat the exact same things over and over and o

10. what is their favourite memory from their childhood?

ophelia - although her parents have always been cold to her, they used to go camping when she was about 9-10ish, and she always enjoyed spending time with her siblings around then.

beatrice - in the method she had been created she technically never was a child um. but in her early life, she enjoyed hanging out with levi! :D

alice - haha

11. do they have a "type" that they are usually attracted to?

ophelia - no

beatrice - bea will generally befriend anyone if theyre cute or theyre like her guy friends. as for a partner, she wants someone thats at LEAST a head taller than her normal form (her regular form is 5'5"), they need to be someone that likes hugs, someone who would coddle her, someone who would cosplay with/for her, someone who would buy her things..

alice - his "type" is just "someone interesting", but he thinks all people are interesting in their own right- you have to be SUUUUUUPER boring for him to not be into you in some way.

12. do they have any favourite possessions?

ophelia - ALL her alien plushies (most of which were gifts from merrick)

beatrice - everything inside her wardrobe

alice - cleaver

13. do they have any tattoos? if no, would they ever consider getting one?

ophelia - she doesn't have any, and doesn't really want one, but she's seen some real cool space ones, and--

beatrice - tattoos vanish when she changes her form unless she focuses REALLY hard on keeping it there, so she's given up on trying to get one to be permanent.

alice - he doesn't have any, but thinks that getting a sleeve would be cool. he doesn't have any idea for what he wants, though, so he hasn't bothered getting one. he also gets worried that if he gets one of his current aesthetic, he'll get bored of it and have to do something drastic to remove it.

14. do they have any piercings? if no, would they ever consider getting any?

ophelia - has her ears pierced

beatrice - doesn't want piercings, wears clip-on earrings

alice - wants a tongue piercing r belly-button piercing maybe.. and ear piercing might also be cool...

15. what is their dream house like?

ophelia - she'd like to live in a small town on the coast or something.. she doesn't really mind living in a small house since it'd just be her and merrick. but also if she had a house with an observatory, she'd love that a LOT. generally just wants somewhere nice and laid back.

beatrice - due to her void realm taking the form of whatever she wants, she has her dream home! it's literally just an apartment with a few rooms, but it has enough space for all the stuff she wants.

alice - he's in a similar position to Beatrice in that he already has his own dream place bc teehee void realm. He's a little more selfish in that he gave himself a big house with lots of space and rooms for him to fill with stuff- but also he wanted somewhere big so that all his friends could stay with him :)

16. what is something about them that people would not expect just by looking at them?

ophelia - UHHH just how lazy she is, probably.. woman barely tolerates having to jog somewhere please let her sit down

beatrice - idk probably the fact she befriends murder boys like alice

alice - all the music he listens to is like crazy frog and caramelldansen

17. how good are they at choosing gifts for others?

ophelia - she'll either just outright ask you what you want, or she'll give you money or a gift card, she doesn't like having to guess for people

beatrice - she literally picks gifts for other people based on what SHE likes.. like she'll get u something cause she tinks it's cute it doesn't matter if u've ever mentioned it before

alice - if ur his friend then he will have a list of all ur interests in the back of his brain at all times and does a pretty good job picking out gifts thanks to that

18. do they have a certain skill that they're particularly proud of?

ophelia - she's very good at researching things and digging up information that a lot of people can't find so she thinks that's kind of epic for her

beatrice - she's good at dancing, video games, and memorizing things. she will show off these skills as much as she can.

alice - umm... eyeball removal...?

19. how would a stranger they just met describe them?

ophelia - UHHHH... she's just polite to strangers so i think she'd be described as just that?? she doesnt really leave lasting impressions on people

beatrice - cute, bubbly, maybe super annoying

alice - friendly? :D

20. how would a close friend they've known for a long time describe them?

ophelia - kinda stupid but really cute

beatrice - just a lil ray of sunshine :)

alice - if you're asking like.. kai or beatrice then it's "he's cute and fun and pretty and nice to hang out with!!" but if youre asking like percy or nero then its "hes creepy and gross and im gonna beat his ass"

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 9 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

t-rated version on tumblr, m-rated on ao3 ;)

“Anna…” he said, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. He was so proud of her, how good she was; how she managed to charm everyone she ever met, how much work she put into her performances, how every eye in the room landed on her the moment she stepped in-- and he knew in his heart that in the coming days there would only be more of all of that, more eyes focused on her, more people wanting a little piece of her, more of the world demanding she let a little bit of her light rub off on them.

And still, she cared what he thought.

chapter 9: raindrops

They both agreed it was for the best that Kristoff drove to the beach, even though they were in Anna’s car; she was bursting with excitement, which only exacerbated her habit of talking with her hands.

He kept his own hands firmly on the wheel as she bounced on in the passenger seat. “So they want me to be her, which like-- oh my god, I grew up watching that movie and like...oh my god! I used to just dance around the living room and sing the songs over and over again and drive Elsa crazy, but it was only fair because she was into Star Wars and made me do lightsaber battles with her, but like-- oh my god, I always wanted to be her, and now maybe I will be--”

“Hang on,” Kristoff cut in as he reached over to squeeze one of her flailing hands at a red light. “This is like, the Anastasia who died in the Russian Revolution? This is like, a little kid movie?”

“Well, yeah. In this version, like, her family dies I guess, but it’s not onscreen or whatever, and she got away and just doesn’t know she-- wait. Kristoff, you’ve never seen Anastasia?”

“Um...no?”

“Not even with your sisters?”

He shrugged. “I...maybe I have and just forgot.”

“Well, you’ll have to watch it with me now,” Anna said, settling back in her seat. “That way when this comes out, you can be like everyone else fighting on Twitter about live-action remakes and whether they’re better or worse.”

“I don’t have Twitter, remember?”

“I’ll make you one, just for this. It’s part of the millennial experience, Kristoff.”

“What is?”

“Fighting with someone on the internet by sending reality TV gifs back and forth.”

“Um...if you say so.”

They’d already been driving for forty minutes, and they were getting close to the little cutoff he had found once in college when he’d just needed to get in the car and drive. He’d looked it up later, and the little beach it led to was technically public property, but he’d never once seen another soul out here. It was his favorite place to go when he needed to just be, and Anna was the first person he was ever showing it to. It was odd, but he was somehow nervous about it, worried that maybe for some reason she wouldn’t like it.

He was carefully watching the road signs when he heard a little “oh!” and glanced over at Anna.

“What is it?”

“I think I just saw a raindrop.”

“But we live in LA, it never rains here til--”

She was right. Another raindrop plopped suddenly on the windshield, and Kristoff felt himself deflate as surely as if he were a balloon that had just met its untimely end.

“Sorry, Anna,” he sighed, “just let me find a good spot to pull over and turn aro--”

“What are you talking about? It hasn’t rained in ages, I don’t mind at all.”

“But you wanted to swim, and we packed the picnic basket--”

“So? I can swim in the rain.”

He glanced at her again. “Seriously, Anna, you don’t have to--”

“It’s not a have to. I want to.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m not going to let a little shower ruin our day.”

It was quickly turning into more than just a little shower. As the rain picked up, he turned at last onto the cutoff and braked, not bothering to park. “Seriously, Anna, I--”

“Drive a little more. Onto the beach.”

He did so, holding back his questions. “Okay, now park.”

The moment he did so, she hopped out of the car and scurried to the back. “Anna!” he called after a moment of stunned surprise. “You’re going to get soaking wet!”

She had already opened the trunk; as he turned back to look at her, she cheerfully peeled off her t-shirt and tossed it up to him, leaving her in her bikini top and shorts. “Good thing I wore my swimsuit then, huh? Come back here and help me push the seats down.”

He did, and she pulled out the blanket they’d brought and spread it over the newly flat space in the back of the car. “See? Perfect! And less sand, too.”

She put one hand on his shoulder as she hopped on one foot, taking off her shoes. “Are you gonna swim with me, Kris?”

“It’s going to be even colder than normal with the rain.”

“Good thing you’re here to warm me up then,” she said as she succeeded in getting her other shoe off. “Come on!”

She took off running towards the water, a scream of delight tearing from her throat as the rain plastered her hair to her bare, freckled shoulders. She turned to wave back at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He followed after her, slowly, a wide grin on his face as he watched her run into the water, squealing when it splashed her ankles and she realized how cold it really was. “I warned you!” he called, but she only laughed. 

“Come on in, the water’s fine!”

Lightning flickered in the distance. “It’s about to storm, baby,” he called. “Come back!”

“Come and get me!”

He did, loping down towards the edge of the water, and she ran back out, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck. She was shivering, just a little, but when he pressed his hands against the small of her back, she sighed happily. “God, Kris, you’re so warm,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his neck. 

“You’ll be even warmer once you get back in the car,” he said, and then she took his hand in hers and they were running towards the car, laughter spilling from them as a crack of thunder sounded in the sky.

Once they were in the backseat of the car again, scooting back far enough that the few droplets of rain that were slipping in past the raised tailgate couldn’t reach them, he leaned against the side of the car as she snuggled up against him, her hair already soaking through his shirt. He pulled the picnic blanket up and draped it over her shoulders; she thanked him with a kiss before settling back against his side.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the rain and the waves as Anna warmed up against him, tucked under his arm. He was still trying to make sense of all that had happened in the last day, of this phone call about the big part and the fact that they’d almost fought and then realized neither of them wanted to and then, most importantly of all, that she’d said she loved him, and he’d said it back, and now at last he could say it whenever he wanted to instead of biting his tongue so it didn’t spill out while he was holding her or talking on the phone or just watching her being, well, her.

"I love you," he said, just to test the feel of it in his mouth once more, his heart beginning to pound; surely he'd imagined it, that she had ever said it at all--

"I love you, too," she said, tilting her chin up so she could kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you so much, Kristoff, and I love your freckles and your eyes and your nose and your chest--"

 She shifted, straddling his lap so she could face him. "My chest?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," she said, pressing her hands against it and splaying her fingers out with a happy little sigh. "I love it when you pick me up or when you just hold me, and it just-- I just feel so safe, and--"

He kissed her then, too overwhelmed for words, but Anna pulled away after only a moment, determined to continue her list. "And I love the way your hair gets all messy when you sleep, and I love how handsome you look when you wear your glasses, and--"

She paused for a moment to let out a little gasp as his lips slid down to her neck; when he reached her collarbone she let her head loll back. He slid his hands up her back, keeping her pressed close to him, and her eyes fluttered shut. "God-- I think I love your mouth the most-- or maybe your hands-- fuck, Kris!" she gasped as without warning he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of her neck and shoulder, his tongue flicking over her skin.

Her hands started tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he leaned back just enough to pull it off with her help before capturing her mouth with his own. 

"I love you, too," he panted as he finally succeeded in tugging it off. "I-- everything about you, baby, it's all my favorite-- you're my favorite--"

"And you're mine," she whispered, and then she kissed him again and at last he was starting to believe this was real.

---

How did the meeting with your agent go yesterday afternoon? Sorry, just realized I forgot to ask when you called last night.

.

no worries i know u were tired, i was too so i forgot to say anything haha

but it was good! he gave me everything i need

including the sheet music😱

.

It’s a musical?

.

omg we rly have to find time to watch this movie together

yes but i havent sung much recently

nervous 

.

I can help you practice if you want.

.

omg 

u do music stuff? how am i just now finding this out 

.

Kind of. I’ll be home around 5 if you want to practice there.

Or we can go to your place.

.

urs is better 

elsa having honey over for dinner 👀

so i kind of already told her i would spend the night with u...just in case

is that ok?

.

It’s more than ok. You don’t even have to ask.

.

💕💕💕

ily!! 

.

Love you too.

Anna was there right at five, practically vibrating with excitement as Kristoff opened the door. “I haven’t even sat down yet,” he teased as she burst through the door, her arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t want to find out more about this musical gift you’ve been hiding from me!” she chirped, opening his fridge. “I brought stuff for dinner if that’s okay. And breakfast. Since you were at work or with me all the time the last few days, I figured you hadn’t had time to go to the grocery. And I got those carrot cake cupcakes Sven likes. I still feel bad about the sofa.”

He felt a swell of affection in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, coming up behind her and pulling her into an embrace. “But thank you.”

“I wanted to do it,” she said, turning in his arms so she could rise up on her toes and kiss him. “You do so much for me, I just...I don’t know.”

He just held her for a long moment, his heart skipping a beat when she sighed in contentment and nestled her face against his shoulder. There was so much about loving her that he, well, loved, but this-- just holding her, feeling the way her breath synchronize with his as the tension sank slowly out of her body, feeling himself relax as well and knowing it was all just because they were together-- well. It was difficult to imagine anything else ever making him happier.

“Love you,” he said softly, and she tightened her arms around his waist.

“Love you, love you, love you,” she said cheerfully before pulling away a little, still keeping her hands on his sides. “Are you still up for helping me practice? It’s okay if you’re too tired or need to study or something. But you might want to wear headphones if that’s the case, because the audition is this Friday, and I really do need to practice, and I’m, well, out of practice.”

Kristoff huffed out a laugh and took her hand, leading her to his room. “I’ve got time. No tests ‘til next week. No promises that I’ll actually be of help, though.”

Anna hopped a little with excitement as he opened the door. “Are you going to sing with me? Or do you have, like, a keyboard or something?”

“Or something.”

She hopped up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of it as he went to his closet, already feeling nervous even before he turned around and showed her the guitar in his hands. She gasped in surprise, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t know you played!”

“I don’t, not really,” he said hastily as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, you have your own guitar, so that has to count for something.”

He shrugged, fiddling awkwardly with the tuning pegs and plucking at the strings. “It’s just...I don’t know. My dad, uh, he taught me a little when I was younger, and then I had to do some kind of music class in college, and it kinda...it was relaxing, I guess. And then I found this one at a thrift store and just...got it on a whim. I, uh, I thought I would just, y’know, play for my mom some, I learned some songs for her birthday one year and...um…”

He felt a flush creeping up his cheeks, knowing he was rambling. “Anyway. So I don’t really play. But I can try for you.”

Anna’s eyes were soft as he looked at her over his shoulder. “Will you sing for me?”

His face only grew warmer. “I, uh, I-- Mom really likes Elvis, so that’s the only thing I know well enough to sing along to, and I know that’s kind of lame--”

“No, it’s not, really,” she said immediately, scooting forward so she could sit behind him, tucking her chin over his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist. “Please, Kris?”

“Anna…”

“I love you,” she said sweetly, pressing a kiss just under his ear, and how could he say no after that?

“Fine,” he grumbled, and she scooted back so she could watch him, her eyes bright. “Um...what song?”

“You pick.”

He started strumming a few chords, wishing his heart would slow down a little. “I...I really...I’m not very good…”

She just rested her chin in her hands, smiling at him so broadly he thought his heart would burst. He could have gone on staring at her all day, the way the afternoon sunlight slanted through the window and illuminated her hair and brought out her freckles and made her eyes shine bluer than anything he’d ever seen-- but she was waiting for him, and he knew that for whatever reason this meant something to her, and so he cleared his throat and started to sing. 

“Wise men say…”

His voice was shaking; he had to look away from her as he sang. He’d never performed for anyone besides his family, and even then he’d only been able to do it after secretly downing a shot of whiskey. 

He kept going, anyway, and after another line or two, he felt the bed shift and then the press of Anna’s cheek against his upper back as she snuggled against him. He stumbled for a moment, his heart and his voice stuttering, but as she pressed a kiss between his shoulderblades suddenly his nerves began to fade away.

“...for I can’t help falling in love with you,” he finished, strumming the final chord and realizing that at some point, his heart had finally slowed down.

Anna’s arms came over his shoulders as she embraced him, pressing a damp kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Kris,” she sniffled, and he set the guitar down so he could turn and hug her back.

“Why are you crying, baby?” he teased gently as she swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt-- his sweatshirt, he realized suddenly, one that was so big on her it covered her hands. Had she really been wearing that all day? “Was it really that bad?”

“That was the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life,” she said, and he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her, and then again on her forehead for good measure. 

“So where’s the music you need to practice? Your turn to sing for me.”

“It’s in my backpack,” she said, but made no move to lean down and get it from the floor, instead pressing a contented kiss against his cheek. 

He felt his heart jump, just as it always did, even now; somehow it always surprised him, the easy affection she gave him so freely, so happily, just because she could, because she wanted to, because as unbelievable as it seemed, she loved him. He held her close for another moment, just because he could, and then said, a hint of regret in his voice, “If we keep just doing this all night, then you’ll never get to practice, and I know this audition is really important…”

Anna sighed and slipped out of his arms to crouch on the floor and pull out a folder full of sheet music. She spread it open on the bed and considered it all for a moment, her fingers dancing in the air just above it all. “They told me I can just pick whichever song I want to do for it, even if I’d rather do one of the other characters’ ones because they’re still finishing up a couple of new additions...hmm…”

She glanced up at him. “There’s tabs written up at the top. Can you play based on that?”

He nodded; though he’d downplayed it out of nervousness, he actually did play fairly regularly. It had started just for the class, but then he’d found himself pulling out the guitar and practicing whenever his major classes got to be too much, and then he’d find himself returning to his notes with a newfound sense of clarity. He’d gotten an A in that initial music class and been surprised, even though over the course of the semester he’d put in dozens of hours of practice. He still pulled it out of the closet whenever work or school got too overwhelming, though never when Anna was over or Sven was home; the only people who’d ever heard him play at all had been his professor and his family-- well, until now. 

Anna settled on a song and shifted the music towards him. “Do you think you can do this one?”

“If you don’t mind me making some mistakes, sure.”

He started strumming slowly, just sounding out the chords, then nodded resolutely. “Okay. Ready?”

She nodded, and he started playing through the song, nodding to give her her cue to come in, but instead of singing she flushed bright red and looked away. Kristoff raised his eyebrows and played the intro again, waiting for her to start, but she shook her head. He set guitar down and asked playfully, “What, you can make a movie for the whole world to see, but you can’t sing in front of your boyfriend?”

“It’s different,” she squeaked out, her cheeks only growing redder. “Your opinion matters.”

He huffed out a laugh, knowing that this gently teasing back-and-forth was the only way to coax her into doing it, even though inside his chest he suddenly felt so warm he just wanted to toss all the music aside and pull her back into his arms. “You made me sing first. It’s only fair, baby.”

“Okay, okay-- just-- do it again, okay? I promise I’ll actually sing this time.”

He started strumming again, and this time she did, though she had to look away. He did his best to hide the surprise he was feeling; he’d heard her sing back when she’d performed in school musicals, and she’d been good then, but now...Jesus. No wonder they wanted her for this part. 

When they finished the song, the last note still shimmering tremulously in the air, he tossed the guitar aside and leaned over to pull her into a hug, his arms only tightening when she let out a little yelp of surprise. “Was that okay?” she asked hopefully, her hands settling on his back.

“Anna…” he said, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. He was so proud of her, how good she was; how she managed to charm everyone she ever met, how much work she put into her performances, how every eye in the room landed on her the moment she stepped in-- and he knew in his heart that in the coming days there would only be more of all of that, more eyes focused on her, more people wanting a little piece of her, more of the world demanding she let a little bit of her light rub off on them.

And still, she cared what he thought. 

“You’re going to nail this, baby,” he said and felt her melt a little against him. “You’re going to get this part and be a fucking star, and I’m gonna be cheering you on the whole way.”

Whatever came next, whoever demanded something of her, whatever she demanded of herself-- he would be there, in the quiet moments and the loud, an anchor for her, as long as she wanted him to be the one she came home to, whether that was for only another week or for a lifetime.

And, if he was being honest, he was starting to hope it would be the latter.

[milkygcf]

Hiii I c ur doing reqs. U don't have to do this one though. I'm sure you'll be getting many so only if it inspires you 💖 buuttt here goesss. Vkook x reader. Jealousy. Angst. plshappyending. kluvvyouuu.

//credits to @jjks for the gif!//

Pairing | jjk x reader (ft. kth)

Genre | angst, s2l

Warnings | none

Summary |  ❝ Hiii I c ur doing reqs. U don't have to do this one though. I'm sure you'll be getting many so only if it inspires you 💖 buuttt here goesss. Vkook x reader. Jealousy. Angst. plshappyending. kluvvyouuu. ❞

Word Count | 1.6k

Author’s Note | hi anon!! your request is finished! i tried to make it as angsty as i could, although it does stray a bit from the jealousy you asked for 😅😅 yet if you squint, it’s hinted! alongside this, i hope the somewhat happy ending satisfies your wishes! i also hope this is to your liking ❤ thank you for requesting ✨ ________________________________________________________________

Taehyung has to moderately be the most romantic fellow you’ve ever met. You’ve known the dork for a good four years, befriending him at a summer camp your parents practically forced you to attend.

During the span of time, you earned the pleasure to watch him evolve into one fine man. From wearing those ugly pink shorts he was quite fond of, to having half of his wardrobe being nothing but pairs amongst pairs of slacks. You have to admit - despite your imposing disdain towards that garment, you kind of miss it. 

You also miss the countless nights awake tallying the stars that scattered across the sky with him. Or perhaps all the times he’d invite himself over and insist you watch Avatar: The Last Airbender with him.

Anyway, back to Taehyung being the hopeless romantic he is - lately, he’s been hell-bent on trying to find someone he can share his life with. 

And by time, he did.

However, you are not that someone. 

In fact, you are the side character that doesn’t obtain as much luck as the main character does. You sit and stare in the sidelines, watching as Taehyung relished in the confines of euphoria with someone he now calls his soulmate. 

That soulmate is not you.

“If love was a thing, what would you associate it with?” He queried silently one night, fumbling with his phone. Your fingers coursed through his soft locks that splattered across your chest and you frowned. 

If love was a thing, to you, it would’ve been Kim Taehyung. It would’ve been his deep, rich voice, the way it soothes your very soul and leaves you wanting to hear more. Or the constellations in his eyes - those who suppress every memory he has ever endured. Eyes who spill tears and crinkle when his lips curve into a jovial beam.

There are a mass of qualities you consider to be a concept of love.

He took your lack of response as cluelessness, locking his phone shut and letting a sigh flutter out of his lips. “Don’t you think it’s something akin to a warm summer? Or like a walk by the sea, with the fresh, chilly breeze making your hair flow.”

“That’s a way to put it,” you shifted under him, “Although everyone has different perspectives of the very subject.” “And I hope one day I’ll be able to meet someone with that same perspective.” 

Taehyung’s wishes eventually come true. After a span of perhaps a month, he comes running to you with tears of joy sprouting down his cheeks, the most merry smile spread across his lips. He engulfed you in a jostling hug and pecked your cheek, his sentences nothing but a jumble of words that you couldn’t seem to comprehend. 

If you had known back then, you would’ve told him that to you, love was like a rose trapped in an eternal winter. To you, it was lifeless - non-existent. How could you know of such a thing when you skipped the basics and immediately jumped onto heartbreak?

You are in love with Kim Taehyung - that much was clear. 

Nothing could possibly define the state of your heart as you listened intently to the way his voice spoke ecstatically about someone he was going to share the world with. 

“She’s like a rainbow after a murky storm, Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so exquisite. Her eyes shine brighter than the crown jewels of England!” The way he interprets her makes you giggle - Taehyung always had a peculiar way of saying things. 

Although, the way your name rolls carelessly down his tongue makes you choke - no longer do you find it soothing, no longer do you find that same old caring tone laced into it. Like you were the only person he ever needed. You and him against the world. 

Heartbreak is a menace - god forbid someone ever experiences the turmoil it brings along with it. It is a plight that once you bump paths with, it encases itself around you and never fades. 

Unlike heartbreak, Taehyung becomes a distant memory. He does fade away - lets himself disintegrate in the nooks of your mind. You can do nothing but watch as he scatters any remaining thought of you and leaves it to his youthful moments in life. 

“Ah - sorry Y/N, we’re going out today! Our anniversary is soon, and we were hoping we could plan a small party.” 

“Right, yeah, that’s okay.” You lie right through your teeth, “Can we meet anytime soon? I miss you, you dork.”

Taehyung’s light laughter reverberates through your phone. Another fragment of your heart cracks and crumbles. “I miss you too silly! I’ve been a bit busy lately… What a bummer! I promise I’ll text you as soon as I’m free! Love ya!” 

You’re left with the eerie sound of your phone beeping. 

There’s a reason why you were never really fond of promises. They were meant to be broken - made to be hopes and dreams only to be twisted in the end. Unfortunately for you, the reason for your heartbreak never texted you back after that.

It’s your fault, really, you were the one who couldn’t come clean to your best friend. If you had told him just a sliver of your feelings, maybe things would have been different. Maybe you wouldn’t be watching raindrops trickle down your bedroom window alone. Maybe, just maybe, your sleepless nights would’ve been replaced with warmth spreading through your skin at Taehyung’s tender touch. 

You can do nothing but sulk now.

Except, you sulk until you stumble upon a stranger whom, just like you, battles the scarecrow lurking around them. It tore them down, made sure they praised regret for as long as they reminisce about each memory conceived with their last love. 

His name is Jeon Jungkook, and just like you, he lives with remnants of heartbreak staining his very soul. 

“She was the light of my life,” he announces grudgingly, eyes gleaming under the dimly lit night sky. “It’s like you finally start seeing colour. Like, actual colour, you get me?” 

Of course you do - you’ve been seeing that colour since you laid eyes on Taehyung at summer camp. 

“What about you?” Jungkook queries then, turning towards your slumped figure. Your fingers anxiously pick at the grass beneath you, a frown curving onto your lips. “Me?” Your voice comes out rather silent, a bit distressed. 

“What’s your story?”

“Well, Jeon, I thought I had everything until I carelessly let it slip away. A dumb move, really, it’s all my fault.” But in reality, how could you tell him? Was the result of rejection better than the state you’re left in now? You would’ve easily earned yourself an answer if you’d confessed. 

Jungkook looks at you with pity circling in the pits of his eyes. He makes it his mission to understand your anguish, what causes such disappointment in your features.

And then? He interlocks his fingers with yours and offers you a mellow smile. You turn to him with wide eyes, mouth agape as to what he was insisting. 

“In that case, I hope we can mend each other.” 

---

Taehyung has been out of it since the moment he cut the last call you’ve had together. Your very last interaction. Since then, he’s been throwing himself into his significant other’s arms, hoping that eventually, he’ll rid the guilt etching into him. 

Perhaps if he weren’t so foolish, things would have been different. How else was he supposed to spend his free-time now? He was used to your constant presence - your pearly whites out on show whenever he makes the dumbest of jokes. 

He craves the enjoyment he used to earn himself with you - the euphoric feeling bursting through him as he continues to relish on the beauties life offered with you.

It’s different now. 

The person he wakes up beside isn’t you - the same warmth he’d find himself aching for every time isn’t there. He finally found someone he could course life with, but it wasn’t you.

There’s a feeling nagging at him, yet despite how much he tries, he just can’t seem to fathom it. 

Taehyung is suddenly aware of his current standing. He’s aware of how you’ve become a distant memory - a fragment of his older life, a life he’s abandoned because he seeked out what he’d wished. 

But was it really what he’s always wanted?

His queries are answered when he spots you by someone else’s side. You’re smiling so brightly it’s almost humanly impossible. Something bubbles within the confines of his mind. It’s clear you’re with someone who’s clearly making you happy, although that someone’s not him. 

The very fact makes him feel somewhat conflicted, however he has no clue as to why he feels so distraught. 

You don’t notice his presence whatsoever, focus put directly on Jungkook and the little ministrations he was making with his hands. He was telling you about this one time he watched an animated movie and how he’d further on adapt to the idea of hearing bells when meeting his soulmate. It’s endearing - it makes you want to tune in to more.

Both you and Jungkook found solace in each other, trying to mend your broken hearts despite how challenging it is. You found comfort and happiness, and by time, you both let go of the burdensome heartbreak sitting on your shoulders. 

That, however, didn’t count on Taehyung’s side. 

And as he watches you be whisked away by a stranger he has no knowledge of, it finally dawns on him how he’d lost you due to his foolishness.

[sunnytumbies]

just follow my yellow light (and ignore all those big warning signs)

Warning! This fic includes mentions of depression, anxiety, needles (in a medical setting), and dealing with grief/trauma. Please stay safe should you choose to read! 

A/N: This is also a more plot-heavy fic, with most of the fiendery occurring in the very last sections, so please be aware of that!  Word count: 8499 Title: “Yellow Light” by Of Monsters and Men

The thing about hospitals is that they’re all the same.  

Cal understands why people hate them—really, he does—but sitting here on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath him, a blood pressure cuff tightening around his bicep, he can’t help but feel...safe. Understood.  

He’s biased, he guesses. He grew up in one, doodling on prescription pads with crayons, running his favorite toy car along the floor (weaving around the nurse’s practical clogs on his hands and knees, look, Mom, look at how fast I am!), his mother Marianne bouncing him on her lap as she updated charts on her computer even though he was far too old for that, stray blonde hair that escaped from her tight bun tickling his cheek. Every once in a while, she’d turn to him with a wide, warm smile.  

The whirring of blood pressure machines were his lullaby. The smell of antiseptic was the closest he got to the smell of home, and was in fact the very smell that followed him home from work with Marianne, permeated the whole house along with her tired sighs and her whispered arguments with his father Henry when she thought Cal was sleeping.  

So, yeah. Cal likes hospitals. Don’t overanalyze it.  

The nurse—Alicia, today—gives him a small, tired smile, the expression of someone who genuinely cares but is too busy to do much about it. “Dr. Moore says everything looks good, Cal. Just make sure to keep an eye on your lungs. Don’t bind for too long and keep doing your injections around the same time each week, okay? You know where to find us if you need something.”  

“Thanks, Alicia,” Cal says, but she’s already whisking out the door. Cal wonders how many patients she has. Alicia oversees the hospital volunteer program, and even though Cal's known her for years, he swears her face is as young and beautiful as it was when he was a child. She’s funny and whip-smart and strong and she likes Cal best, he thinks, but lately she’s looked so tired. 

He wonders if she’s one of the nurses who really cares about all of her patients. He wonders if that kind of thing is sustainable.   

Alicia cares, he thinks.   

He’s walking down the corridor, idly rubbing at the bandage across his forearm—and yeah, okay, if he has to name one part of the hospital experience that he could do without, it’s the blood draws—and he’s so fixated on reaching under the bandage to rub at the stinging skin there that he almost runs directly into Sweater Guy, who reaches out preemptively to steady Cal by the shoulders. 

“Shit, sorry,” Cal mutters reflexively, then looks up to see that it’s him and, well, fuck.  

Cal’s been volunteering at the hospital for six months or so, now, answering call buttons for the nurses and giving directions to confused family members and just grunt work, really, something—nay, anything—for him to put on his resume, and at every single shift he’s volunteered for, he’s seen Sweater Guy.  

He’s Cal’s height but twice as skinny, collarbones jutting out underneath his sweaters (his endless sweaters, usually layered over collared shirts and rolled up to the elbows, no matter how swelteringly hot it gets outside). The sweaters bother Cal more than they should, because they all look expensive, and yeah, sue him, he’s a little bitter, because he buys one new pair of shoes a year and calls it splurging. He’s a candy striper, Cal thinks. He wears a pair of yellow-tinted glasses that Cal cannot for the life of him make sense of, constantly slipping down his nose (and yes the yellow compliments the rich brown of Sweater Guy’s skin beautifully, not that Cal has noticed, thanks). He has what Zara always insisted is sex hair, expression perpetually annoyed, like he always has something better to doing.  

And he avoids the fuck out of Cal.  

“It’s not on purpose,” Zara said one day a few months ago, leaning conspiratorially  over their little table in the hospital cafeteria, mouth full of mediocre tuna fish sandwich, because Zara is a godless heathen who enjoys tuna fish sandwiches. “He’s just...busy, you know? He doesn’t avoid you more than he avoids anyone else.” 

“Except he does,” Cal muttered, toying with the bottle cap from his soda. More than once he’d made eye contact with him in the hall, and then watched him completely switch directions, head ducked down low over his shoulders.  

Not long after that, Zara--who had, until then, occupied the third room in he and Amy’s apartment--left school to attend a community college program for mortuary science, because Zara is, in addition to being a godless heathen, a chiefly ridiculous person, and now Cal doesn’t have anyone to complain to about this.  

It shouldn’t bother him, except...Cal is likeable. He is. He charms nurses as though that’s what he’s getting volunteer credit for. Babies smile at him on the street. He’s likeable.  

So what the fuck, you know?  

“I apologize,” Sweater Guy says now, and Cal is hyper-aware of the guy’s chapped lips, of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously in his throat. He makes himself look away.  

“You apologize? I’m the one who didn’t see you, dude,” Cal says, and God damn does that yellow sweater he’s wearing look nice on him. It shouldn’t. Yellow is categorically the worst color. Cal’s pissed.  

Sweater Guy actually cracks a smile. “Yes, well. I’m glad we avoided a collision.”  

And just like that, he’s walking off, and Cal doesn’t know what he’s supposed to make of it, if it means anything at all, but surely first contact after six months of silence means something.  

“Hey,” he calls out before he can think better of it. “What’s your name?”  

Sweater Guy stops and blinks, surprised, then pauses for a minute like he has to think about it. “Oh. My name is Quincy Washington.” He swallows. “What’s yours?”  

“Cal.”  

“It’s nice to meet you, Cal,” Quincy says softly, and Cal watches him walk away until he disappears around the corner.  

* 

Cal has a routine. He’s never been particularly organized, never been the type of person with color-coded planners or who lays out his outfits the night before, but he has a routine for check-up days: after picking up his inhaler refills and testosterone from the hospital pharmacy, he’ll treat himself to an iced chai tea latte with almond milk, hot if it’s cold outside or he’s feeling adventurous. He shifts his weight from foot to foot as he waits in line to place his order, his lips flicking up into a small little smile as he pulls out his phone, realizing he finally has an update, deciding to send it to the group chat he still has with Amy and Zara: 

I figured out his name!!  

Amy texts back immediately, and Cal’s little smile splits into a full-blown grin. ???????????

Sweater Guy, Cal types, shifting forward as the line moves. It’s Quincy Washington, apparently. 

Cal grins when he sees a message from Zara appear: r u sure he gave u his real name? that sounds pretty made up ngl :* but hey u finally talked to him!!!! told u it wouldn’t be hard!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

Cal rolls his eyes a little, but good-naturedly. Zara was always convinced that Cal has a crush he’s not addressing, a conspiracy theory that has infected Amy as well, because no one fixates that hard if they DON’T have a crush, Cal, come on. Cal maintains that while he isn’t blind, there are about a million things more interesting about Sweater G--Quincy than how attractive he admittedly is. 

Cal: In my defense, he talked to me first, and it’s only because I ran into him. 

Zara: charming! did u gaze longingly into his eyes? did he gaze longingly into urs?

Cal rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Well it wasn’t his EYES I was looking at. ;) (I  was looking at his stupid yellow sunglasses.) 

Zara: silly! u should’ve asked him if he needs roomies. it would be an honor if my old room went to The Cause :)))

Cal’s lips droop, the smile sliding off his face as he pockets his phone. He knows Zara meant nothing by it, but he’s been compartmentalizing the roommate situation until now, and it’s not something he can particularly deal with at this moment. He doesn’t have to, as it happens--at that moment, an impatient “--sir? Sir, may I please take your order?” breaks through his mental abstraction, clearly not for the first time, and he shakes his head to clear it, cheeks flushing as he approaches the counter, mumbling apologies. He orders his drink, iced chai tea latte, please,  making sure to leave a hefty tip in the jar. 

Eager to spare himself further social anxiety, Cal grabs his drink as soon as it’s placed on the counter, mumbling another apology as he grabs a straw and walks briskly out of the exit closest to the parking lot, sipping eagerly at the drink (he swears it’s even better than usual) and what do you fucking know. 

“Quincy,” Cal says when he reaches his car, clamping down on the little thrill he gets from knowing the name. He swirls the drink a little like some kind of movie character with a glass of wine. He’s chill. He’s cool. 

“Oh. Hello, Cal,” Quincy says sheepishly. He’s standing at the front of a car—not just a car, the car—its hood propped open in a universal sign of defeat. “I seem to...be having some car trouble.”  

“No fucking way,” Cal breathes out, because some things are too strange to be coincidences.  

“I’m...I’m sorry?”  

Cal shakes himself. “No, you’re good, sorry. It’s just that, uh. This is your car?”  

It’s a Mercedes AMG, and it’s been parked next to Cal’s car every day for a couple months now. Cal’s awe hasn’t dulled with time. He figured it belonged to some paranoid doctor, rich and extravagant and scared enough of car crashes to buy a luxury armored SUV. The fact that it belongs to Quincy isn’t strange all on its own—because sure, whatever, Quincy is well-off, that’s a thing that happens to people—but the odds of the day he realizes it belongs to Quincy being the same day he learns Quincy’s name after months of wondering and silence?  

Well.  

“Yes. It’s practically new,” Quincy says sadly, “but I’m hopeless with cars. It’s probably something rather foolish.”  

And then, because Cal is a masochist, he finds himself saying “Well, I know a thing or two about cars,” and yeah, okay, this is happening, apparently.  

“You do?” Quincy’s expression is nothing short of hopeful. “Cal, I would be incredibly grateful.”  

“Of course,” Cal says, already moving toward the car, because who is he to say no to a beautiful boy in a yellow sweater, to a beautiful car with its hood propped open? “It’s no trouble. Keys?”  

“In the ignition.”  

Cal forces himself to focus on the task at hand, even though sitting in the driver’s seat makes him feel downright giddy. He tells himself it’s the car’s immaculate leather interiors, the sheer novelty of sitting in a ridiculous, extravagant vehicle, and not the boy standing in front of the hood with his arms folded across his chest in defeat. He takes a breath.  

Although, he thinks as he twists the key in the ignition, surely this is an acceptable thing to be intrigued by. Why is unassuming Quincy, who looks no older than Cal, driving an armored SUV—and not just any armored SUV, but one that can sustain machine guns and hand grenades?  

He guesses people could say the same about him and his car, because the upkeep of classic cars is a bit of a bitch, but Cal’s beat-up inherited ‘59 Chevy Apache isn't machine gun proof, and it certainly isn't new. She's valuable, of course, but she was passed down to him, not bought fresh off the lot, and that value is probably tempered by years of dings and scratches. She's not a symptom of extravagance the way this absolute mammoth must be. So. Not the same, actually.  

When he tries to crank up the car, it makes a horrible grinding sound that he knows well, the needles on dashboard instruments shuddering. Cal takes great pains to compose his amused grin into something more sympathetic.  

“Good news and bad news,” he says, slamming the car door behind him reflexively before cringing. This isn’t the Apache, with its squeaky doors and stubborn latches, and that door alone probably cost more than Cal’s college tuition. “The good news is it’s nothing serious. You’ve just got a dead battery.”  

Quincy slumps a little with what Cal assumes is relief. “That seems manageable.”  

“The bad news, though,” Cal says. “Do you have jumper cables?”  

“No,” Quincy replies, ducking his head like he’s embarrassed.  

“See, that’s what I was worried about.” Cal gestures to his own car. He sips at his latte, and is genuinely alarmed to realize it’s almost empty. It’s delicious, but still, he’s only had the drink for twenty minutes at the most. “I don’t have mine either. I--” Cal considers the location of his jumper cables, in a heap in the living room of the apartment, leftover from a Skype debate with Zara centered on a story her classmate insisted was true concerning jumper cables and nipples. Cal doesn’t regret the use of a visual aid--he won the debate, after all, because seriously, have you seen jumper cable clamps, there is no way--but he decides this is not something he needs to share with Sweater Guy. “They’re at home. I can go grab them and come back to give you a jump, though? Our place is literally right around the corner.”  

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Quincy hedges, a little desperately. Cal sees him battling internally between the need to be polite and the need to get his car running again.  

“You’re not imposing,” Cal says, “because I offered. Seriously. Apologizing to me when I ran into you! Thinking you’re an imposition after I offered you something! You’re too nice for your own good, Quince.” The nickname slips out without Cal’s consent, and he feels the tips of his ears warm.  

Quincy looks at him, tilting his head curiously. “I have an anxiety disorder,” he says after a moment, very plainly, and Cal feels like the biggest asshole in the world. He feels like an even bigger asshole because his knee-jerk reaction is to laugh, because what a mood, really.  

To his abject horror, the laughter actually bubbles out, warm and genuine and fuck, he needed it, but he can also feel himself blushing crimson, because Jesus Christ, Cal, this is not the kind of reaction you should be having to this information. “I’m sorry,” he manages after a too-long moment. “I’m so sorry, oh my God, I promise I’m not laughing at you. It’s just...fuck, we’re not allowed to be that blunt, you know?”  

Quincy inclines his head again, an unspoken question, and yeah, okay, you made this bed, Cal, now lie in it.  

“I just mean, like...okay. Example. I’m chronically ill, right? I have asthma, thanks for that, genetics, but anyway the point is that I tell people I’m sick and they’re like, get well soon! They don’t understand that I don’t...want that. They don’t get that I’m sick, and that it’s okay! That’s fine! If you’re sick, you either have to be dying, or you have to be overcoming it or some shit. I just…I wish I could introduce myself like hi, I’m Cal, I have depression and my lungs don’t work very well. But I can’t, because that’s weird, that makes healthy people feel awkward, and our whole lives are about making healthy people feel better about our fucking lives.” He takes a breath, a little more painfully than he would prefer because it's goddamn cold out. “I just mean...I don’t know. It’s refreshing.”  

Well, okay. Emotional intensity with Sweater Guy is not what Cal banked on happening today, but Sweater Guy is Quincy Washington, and now that he’s looking at him up close, he kind of feels like he’s demystifying him or...or something. The expensive sweater, he sees, is fraying at the sleeve from being picked at nervously. That annoyed expression, the one Cal always interpreted as aloof, is the face Quincy makes when his glasses start slipping down his nose. His sex hair is just...really good hair, perhaps a little mussed at the roots from a tendency to run his hands through it with the air of an exasperated father in a movie, and what’s wrong with that, really? 

Sweater Guy, as it happens, is just a guy.  

Anyway, Cal’s shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, feeling the full force of the straight-up monologue he’s just delivered, but then Quincy is saying “That’s exactly it” in this relieved goddamn voice, so maybe things are okay after all.  “What is that? Why do they make it so weird? It’s not as though it’s contagious.”  

“Right? I don’t know. I’m just kind of exhausted of healthy people.” He inclines his head, toward his car, moving to the driver’s side because, again, it’s cold as shit and his lungs ache and he really should get Quincy that jump. “I’ll go grab those cables.”  Something in the pit of his stomach grumbles at the movement, and he frowns, a reflexive hand coming up to rest on his belly. Weird. 

“Oh, yeah,” Quincy says, like he’s forgotten what the whole point of this was (and doesn’t that just make something warm pool in Cal’s chest, God, he’s so screwed), and casts a withering glance toward the hospital doors. Cal looks at him for a second, shivering underneath his layers in front of his out-of-commission car, and before he can think about it any further than that he’s saying “You can ride with me there and back, if you want? It’s awfully cold out.”  

Quincy positively beams. “I would like that very much, Cal.”  

Okay then.  

* 

Amy is doing an honest-to-God tarot reading in the middle of the living room when Cal gets home, complete with candles and a red cloth draped over their coffee table, and isn’t that just their whole relationship summarized. He throws Quincy a put-upon glance over his shoulder, and Quincy bites his lip to keep from laughing. Has Cal mentioned that Quincy is attractive? God fucking damn it.  

“Permission to enter the divination room?” he says in lieu of a hello, and Amy startles, nearly knocking over one of the candles. 

“Cal!” Amy says, scandalized, staggering to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming! I would’ve gotten rid of these!” 

Cal can’t help but chuckle. “I’m not going to have an asthma attack from candles, Ames.” 

“You could! Go--go stand in the kitchen or something! Make your friend help me!” 

Cal gives Quincy a look, a sort of see what I have to deal with? shrug, and Quincy responds with an amused smirk. “I’d be happy to help,” he says in a tone that sounds like he’s honest-to-God fucking with Cal. “What tarot deck is that?” 

The kitchen is essentially attached to the living room, the two only separated by a narrow doorway, but Cal shrugs and takes this opportunity to wriggle out of his jacket and grab a soda from the fridge. He has a feeling he’s gonna be here for a while. As he reaches into the fridge, however, that strange little twinge deep in his belly makes itself known again, and he grimaces as a cramp seizes his insides. He closes the refrigerator empty-handed, leaning a suddenly-clammy forehead against the cool stainless steel. This does not bode well. 

“So how do you know Cal, again?” Amy is saying just as he’s composed himself enough to re-enter the living room. Quincy has migrated to the couch, at least, albeit with his back ramrod straight, Amy apparently having been satisfied that Cal is not in any immediate mortal peril. 

“He volunteers at the hospital with me,” Cal says before Quincy can say anything, and when Amy glances over at him, Amy mouths Sweater Guy over Quincy’s head. Amy’s eyes bulge, so Cal forges ahead before she can say something to embarrass him. “His battery died, so I came here for the jumper cables.”  

“Riiight, the hospital,” Amy says, a barely restrained grin in her voice, and God, when Amy tells Zara that Cal brought Sweater Guy home he is never going to hear the end of it.  “Did you put up the fliers, by the way? We’re really gonna struggle this month if we don’t get it figured out soon,” and Cal looks up sharply, idly placing a hand on his stomach when it protests at the movement. Why is Amy bringing up the roommate fliers now?  

“I know,” Cal says slowly, trying to communicate please don’t do this now with just a glance.. He sits on the couch next to Quincy, careful to leave a socially acceptable distance between them. “I know, Amy. But...no, I didn’t.” He wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, his stomach starting to churn in earnest. 

“Cal,” Amy chastises, and Cal thinks he would prefer anger to disappointment. “Did you talk to anyone, at least? It’ll be easier if it’s someone we know for, like, negotiating rent and stuff.”  

“Um,” Cal says eloquently, but then Quincy is saying, “Actually, he talked to me,” and alright then, that took a turn.  

“Oh,” Amy says, skeptical, but her face has brightened nonetheless. “Really?”  

“That’s part of why I brought him with me to grab the cables,” Cal says, because he’s rolling with this, apparently. He really is never going to live this down. “To show him the room.”  

“I wanted to see it for myself,” Quincy says sagely.  

“Uh, yeah,” Cal adds lamely.  

Amy is giving him this proud goddamn grin, and Cal is having trouble looking at it, because seriously, it shouldn't be like this. Amy has left this whole roommate search up to him, which is a nice gesture—Amy could live with anyone, with her natural inclination toward small talk and her compulsive baking which is the least unwelcome coping mechanism and her goddamn optimism, but Cal, with his bound chest and testosterone injections, has a lot more to lose here. The thing is, Cal, for all his charm and his mock-flirting and his wolfish grins, has a hard time with people, so him bringing home a coworker (or whatever he's supposed to call Quincy—coworker doesn't feel right, and Cal's trying really hard not to overanalyze that) isn't exactly a common occurrence. Amy is a proud parent smiling at her kid for making friends on the first day of kindergarten, and Cal loves her for it, he does, but it also chafes against him like his chest binder on a hot day.  

"Well, go ahead," Amy finally says, breaking what could have turned into an awkward silence. "Don't let me stop you! I'm Amy, by the way. What's your name? I’m not sure I caught it." She glances at Cal as she says with a terribly unsubtle wink.  

"Quincy Washington," Quincy says in that same quiet way he told Cal. "It's wonderful to meet you, Amy. I’m a fan of tarot myself and you have an excellent eye for ambiance."  

"Thanks!" Amy beams, and Cal wrenches himself off the couch and ushers Quincy down the hallway before Amy loops him into a conversation about the history of tarot or some shit. Cal loves her to death, but knows she’s practically chomping at the bit. He won’t be surprised if she’s  texting Zara as he speaks. 

"You did me a solid, there, Quincy," Cal says quietly when they're far enough down the hall to be out of Amy’s earshot, hyper-aware of how sluggish he is. "We can just waste a little time and then I'll get you that jump."  

"May I see the room?" Quincy asks, and Cal's heart just about stops entirely. "I'm glad to have done you...a solid, but I do happen to be looking for a room to let." His voice catches strangely and unfamiliarly around the slang.  

Cal stares at him for a second. "Seriously?"  

"I am very serious. If you'll have me, of course," Quincy says then, rushing through the second sentence and looking self-conscious about it.  

"No, I just..." Cal says in something like disbelief, then shakes himself off. "Anyway. I guess I'll show you the room, then?"  

"Please," Quincy says, so Cal leads the way.  

"It's kind of small," he says apologetically, pushing open the door and flicking on the lights. They're Edison bulbs, and they cast the room in buttery yellow. "And obviously we'd move this stuff out of here if you moved in."  

Quincy doesn’t say anything, and Cal turns to see that his face is frozen in genuine, slack-jawed awe. It's more than a little endearing, and Cal tucks his fond little grin away before he speaks. "You're a book guy, huh?" 

"You could say that," Quincy breathes, and moves forward a little. "May I—?"  

"Go for it," Cal says, and Quincy reaches out to touch one of the bookcases.  

The room belonged to Zara until she moved out, the smallest room by far but also the one with the most windows, all against the far wall looking out toward the main road. Pushed against the opposite wall are three wood-paneled curio cabinets that Henry once used as bookshelves, packed tight with the books he cared about most in this world. Many of them are leather-bound and there is more than one special edition, all of them older than Cal's grandparents.  

"They're beautiful," Quincy finally says after a moment, "but why do you have rare books in your apartment?"  

Cal snorts, because it is so contrary to what he was expecting, but also because this is a valid question. "Honestly," he says, "I just couldn't bear to part with them. They were my dad's." The words are out before he realizes he's just dropped the dead dad bomb, so he forges ahead. "Uh, like I said, we'd get them out of here before you moved in."  

"Or you could leave them," Quincy murmurs, eyes darting back and forth as he scans the titles. "God, is that a livre d'artist?" 

On some level, Cal registers that this a very pretentious question, and also that there is just something strange about the way Quincy speaks, like everything he says has been polished beforehand. On another, baser level, he finds it frustratingly hot. "Uh, that sounds like a question I should maybe know the answer to, but honestly, these were my dad's thing. I haven't opened up any of the books since he died. I keep the shelves dusted, but I'm not much of a literature person."   

"Are you a book person?" Quincy asks.   

"Come on, you can be one or the other. People can like books without liking capital L literature," he says, turning to look at Cal with this ridiculously excited expression. It's kind of heartwarming. "You know, people who hate Hemingway but loved Twilight."   

Cal may or may not have the entire saga on the much smaller, far less decorative bookshelf beside his bed, but Quincy doesn't need to know that. "Interesting distinction. Yeah, I guess I am."   

"I knew it. Team Edward or Team Jacob?"   

"Wow I hate this conversation."   

Quincy smirks and turns back to the shelves with a quiet sort of reverence that makes Cal smile. It also makes his heart ache a little because it reminds him so much of his dad, but it's an ache that has dulled with the passage of time.    

"So," Cal says, trying to sound casual, "Are you a student?"  

"Yes," Quincy replies, still scanning book titles with a feverish intensity that skirts perilously close to lunacy. "I'm a senior. Are you?"  

"Yeah," Cal says thinly. There's still a chance, he tells himself, and has to catch his breath as his stomach cramps again. A low rumble has begun deep in his gut, like someone set it to simmer, his stomach doing lazy barrel rolls that make him swallow hard.  "Senior, too. Pre-med."  

"I'm a double major. Classics and Theology. Not the most practical, I know," Quincy says, sheepishly, like he's used to people reacting poorly to it.  

Fuck. God fucking damn it.  

"Oh!" Cal says, forcibly infusing his voice with something akin to enthusiasm. "That's really cool. Um. Side note, just by the way..."  

Quincy looks at him inquiringly. Fuck.  All at once, his stomach cramps harshly enough to have him seeing stars, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead again, and he can’t quite stifle a pained moan, clutching at his roiling insides, leaning against the doorframe for support. 

“Are you okay, Cal?” Quincy takes a step toward him, evidently not too worried about whatever Cal was going to say, looking more concerned than Cal would expect from someone who avoided the fuck out of him prior to today, and he gives a pained nod, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Something bubbles in his lower belly painfully, and it hits him all at once. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, noticing all at once how his stomach is puffy, poking out under his shirt and over the waistband of his jeans, how the cramps are accompanied by a near-constant rumble and oppressive waves of nausea. “Sorry, I’m--I  just forgot to ask for—” He swallows again, hardly able to think about the damned chai tea latte, presumably made with full fat milk, churning around inside him. “I’m...lactose intolerant,” he manages, painfully aware that this is happening in front of Sweater Guy of all people. “I forgot to ask for almond milk instead of regular.” 

“Are you alright?” Quincy sounds alarmed, eyes darting from Cal to the door and back again. “Should I get Amy? Is it an allergy, or—?” 

“No, no,” Cal manages, laughing lightly. “You sound just like her, though. It’s just—” He grimaces, clutching at a twinge of nausea— “Just a pretty gnarly tummy ache. I’ll be okay.” He allows himself to rest a hand on his belly, straightening up through immense willpower. “Seriously, let’s just...move on, if that’s alright.” 

“Of course,” Quincy murmurs, still looking rather concerned. It’s endearing, Cal thinks, even  through the fog of nausea and the embarrassment tinging his cheeks red. “I believe you were saying something?” 

“Oh,” Cal remembers, and looks at the floor. "My dad's name was Henry Kline?"  

Quincy freezes. To his credit, he reigns in the incredulous expression relatively quickly.  

"Cal," he says instead, very sincerely, turning to look at him with sad, sad eyes. "Cal, I am so sorry."  

"Don't be," Cal mumbles, looking down, rubbing at the back of his neck. His stomach lets out a loud, angry rumble, and he flushes an even deeper shade of crimson. "I just, uh, wanted you to know from me. 'Cause if you live here, you gotta understand that people are gonna talk. They always do, about us. 'Specially when they hear our last name."  

"Cal Kline," Quincy realizes all at once, and then, with that painful sincerity again, "I wouldn't listen."  

Cal smiles despite himself. "Thanks, Quincy."  

Quincy clears his throat, straightening up from where he's been crouched to pour over the books. Cal is sort of impressed at the sheer muscle tone it must’ve taken to forget he was doing a deep squat. "Cal, I have something to tell you as well."  

This is it, Cal thinks. He doesn't want the room. Doesn't want to live with the bereaved Klines. It's too much. Just give him the jump and go back to never speaking again. The anxiety stirs up his upset stomach, and he clamps down forcibly on a burp that tries to burble up. His stomach lets out a low groan in response to the air being forced back into it.   

"I was studying under Professor Kline," he says instead, and oh, okay. Which is to say, what the fucking shit, how many motherfucking coincidences can there feasibly be in one 12-hour period, but okay, it's better than what Cal was expecting. "I was a teaching assistant, and I was helping him restore his book collection." He glances back to the shelves. "I should have recognized them immediately, but I never saw them on the shelves..."  

Cal's glad Quincy isn't looking at him anymore, because he can't vouch for what his face is doing. The ache Henry left is healing, dulled with the passage of time, but it still hurts if Cal picks at it. Quincy studied with Henry. Quincy knew him in a way Cal never did, never will, his brain screams, and something about that is just, well. His stomach flips, something cramping low and urgent in his belly. 

Quincy is beautiful, and he is wearing a yellow sweater, and he likes Cal's car, and the only reason he cares that Cal's last name is Kline is because he doesn't want to be inconsiderate to Cal.  

So, fuck.  

"Well, now that we've got the awkward parts out of the way," Cal says, and Quincy flashes him a genuine smile that  is positively blinding. He recovers from his seven consecutive heart attacks before continuing, "I can show you the rest of the apartment."  

“Are you sure?” Quincy glances dubiously at Cal, who still has an arm curled around his belly. “You’re awfully pale.”

“That’s, uh—” Cal laughs nervously, feeling sicker and sicker by the moment. “Yeah. Maybe you could just...show yourself around?” At that moment, a low whine fills the apartment, a sure tell that Amy has gotten into the shower, and Cal’s stomach tightens. “Minus the bathroom, I guess. Sorry, our pipes do that when we use the shower. I’m just gonna, uh, have a seat in the living room.” 

Quincy doesn’t question this, and Cal sends up a silent cry of gratitude to whoever may be listening. He settles into his favorite crease on the sofa, looking furtively over his shoulder to make sure Quincy is occupied with checking out the patio before pressing both hands to his grumbling stomach, feeling irritable movement beneath his palms. Oh, it hurts, cramps squeezing at his lower belly like a vice, a sticky, hot nausea plaguing his tummy.  He tries in vain to soothe the ache, rubbing his hand across his bloated stomach as gently as possible, but the touch only sends up a dangerous belch that leaves him panting, hanging over the edge of the couch, the taste of chai and stomach acid coating his mouth revoltingly. 

Quincy’s self-guided tour doesn't take long; their three-bedroom student apartment doesn't exactly contain multitudes. Cal has thankfully composed himself before Quincy pokes his head into the living room. “I have seen what I need to see, I believe,” he says with that stiff formality that seems to crop up occasionally. 

"Yeah, that's the place! Nice and straightforward,” Cal says brightly, as convincingly as he can without moving around too much. “Any clutter you see is mine because Amy is an android, probably."  

Quincy smiles, and Cal's cardiac health continues to worsen, God those fucking smiles. "Can you prove it?"  

"Irrefutably. Evidence: runs for fun. Consumes spinach, also for fun. Wakes up and goes to bed at the same time every day. Possibly irons her clothes, but I'm still not sure on that one."   

"She sounds...pretty human. Perhaps you're the android."  

"No, I just have depression," Cal says before he can stop himself.  

Quincy throws his head back and laughs, and it makes Cal feel so fucking warm. Has he mentioned recently that he is completely screwed in a way that has nothing to do with his cramping stomach? 

"God, Amy hates when I joke about it. It'll be nice to have someone who understands around here when you move in."  

Quincy straightens up. "When I move in?"   

"What can I say. You sold me. If you want to live here, I want you to live here." He smiles, small.   

It was kind of a done deal when you said you worked with Henry Kline, Cal doesn't say. The way you talk to me like I'm a normal person and the fact that you're fucking gorgeous are just bonuses. 

"There is one more thing," he says, steeling himself. Much of his life is spent steeling himself. He pauses, waiting for Quincy to make a joke, to grin another heart-stopping grin, but he just looks at Cal curiously. "I'm trans. I wasn't born a male but I am and always have been a boy. I bind my chest and live as a male and use he/him pronouns. If you don't understand it, that's okay, but I will demand a certain level of respect in my own home, and it'd be preferable if that respect was voluntary." The speech is well-oiled from use, but Cal's voice still shakes.   

"Is that all?" Quincy says, and Cal feels his entire body slump in relief, straightening back up a little when his stomach protests. "I mean, of course, Cal. I'm not ignorant."   

"Oh, yeah, right. Thank you, gentle cis man. I worship at the holy altar of your allyship." He says it like a joke, but it takes effort to get out, because despite everything, it's taken him years to give this speech to a receptive audience and not feel like he's been granted a favor.   

It's taken him years to say I'm here and not have it come out as I'm sorry.   

When he told Zara, it was this whole thing, Zara reaching across the table to clasp one of Cal's hands in both of hers, you know I'm here for you, right? Cal's Facebook messages are full of Zara sending him every post she sees with the word trans in it, and like yeah, Zara, you're very sweet and supportive, but sometimes Cal just wants to be Cal, you know?   

It's just that Cal's known Quincy for all of a few hours and he already feels so goddamn understood.  

"I'm happy to pay whatever Zara’s share was," Quincy says, "And if you would be willing to leave Professor Kline's books, I would be honored."  

"Consider it done," Cal says, smiling a little. He’s almost able to forget about the slow, sinister ache in his stomach. Almost. "Though get ready for Amy to talk about it all the time. She’s really not on board with them being here."  

"I mean...religion isn't my cup of tea either, believe it or not, but I saw an original King James Bible. That alone has to be worth at least twenty grand. Literature person or not, that's...a really valuable thing to be keeping in your rented apartment."   

Cal's eyes flit to the tiled floor, and he can feel Quincy's gaze on him, and he knows he's biting his lip, something he does often enough that one side of it is slightly larger than the other.   

"Oh...Cal, I apologize. I didn't mean to intrude." It's that stiff formality from their almost-collision at the hospital again, and when Cal glances up, Quincy is backing away from him, hands folded behind his back. "I'm sure they're insured, or...even if they're not...I just mean, it's your business, of course. I apologize."   

"No, it's fine." Cal clears his throat nervously. "You're right. Zara and Amy just kind of went a little crazy helping me get rid of his stuff when he died, and they wanted to donate them to the university. I probably should have let them, but..." He shrugs, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, presses his lips together around another burp that he forces down, wincing at the added pressure. "It's not like these are even all the books he had. There are probably hundreds in the storage unit. But I'm ridiculous, and they were just his thing, and for some reason the thought of them just sitting in a dusty room with boxes of his old clothes and the lawnmower and literal cobwebs just didn't sit right, so."   

"So you brought them here." Quincy looks at him like he understands, and isn't just that the worst fucking thing? "I get it."   

"I kind of do want to donate them, as it turns out," and wow, okay, Cal didn't realize that until he says it out loud. "I'm just a little worried because I haven't exactly been...maintaining them, or whatever. I wouldn't even know where to start. If I'm going to let the university open up the Henry Kline Memorial Library or whatever the fuck, I don’t want to give them dusty books with cracked spines, you know? He would've hated that."   

Quincy clears his throat, licks his lips a little, and wow, okay, Cal's feeling things again. "I don't know if this is something you'd even be comfortable with, but...I could continue the work I was doing with Professor Kline. We were in the middle of restoring his collection, and I learned his technique well. I still have access to the labs. I could take it one book at a time. With your approval, of course."  

Cal blinks. "Um...yeah. Yeah, okay. That's super cool of you, thank you."  

"Are you kidding?" Quincy blurts, and then scratches the back of his neck a little like he's embarrassed. "I mean, it's just that you're doing me a favor. Henry Kline's book collection...I'll admit that I've missed them."  

Cal can't help the little smile that tugs his lips up, and seriously, he has to get these feelings under control, God, the guy hasn't even moved in yet.   

Before he can say anything, Quincy's face softens into that aching sympathy again. "And Cal...I miss him, as well. He was a good man."  

Cal kind of wants to cry, so suddenly and desperately that it takes his breath away for a second. His stomach churns audibly, and Quincy looks at him in alarm. 

"Quincy," he says when he gets his voice back, "How soon can you move in?"  

Quincy beams. "How soon will you have me?"  

* 

When Amy gets out of the shower, Cal is sprawled across the couch, openly groaning, clutching his stomach with both hands.  

"What happened to Quin--Cal?” Amy blurts out as she enters the living room, rushing over to the couch when she takes in Cal’s sickly pallor. 

“Finally drove him back and jumped his car," Cal groans, still marveling that he was able to hold it together long enough. He may or may not have had to pull over on the way back, heaving up a trickle of stomach acid and chai tea latte onto the side of the road, at least as much due to anxiety as it was to lactose intolerance, but Amy doesn’t need to know that. "Says he'll take the room…" 

“Okay, that’s great, we’ll unpack that later,” Amy says, sitting gently at Cal’s feet, “But what’s going on with this?” She doesn’t wait for permission, laying a soft hand on Cal’s bloated belly, kneading gently at a cramp, ushering up a soft burp. Amy is sort of a miracle worker.

"’S gonna pay Zara’s share,” Cal murmurs, leaning into Amy’s touch, grimacing as the pressure ushers up a burp that brings up a wave of stomach acid. He swallows hard.  

"Again, that’s great, but,” Amy says, rubbing his belly in wide arcs, maintaining a steady pressure that does wonders for the cramps. “What the hell?” 

“I got anxious getting my latte,” he mumbles, letting his eyes slide shut. Amy’s ministrations are easing the worst of the nausea, and he is so, so thankful for her. “Forgot to ask for almond milk.” 

“Cal,” Amy says, all faint disapproval and warm concern. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“You were showering,” he whines, then whimpers a little at a particularly strong cramp, and Amy moves closer, applying a bit more pressure as she kneads at the cramp, massaging her other hand gently over the burbly places in his lower belly. “I made him show himself around. He didn’t even mind.” 

“Sounds like a dreamboat,” Amy says, her voice light and teasing. 

Cal doesn't know what to say to that that won't be self-incriminating, so he just says, "He really likes yellow."    

"I noticed that,” Amy agrees. "When does he move in?"  

Cal keeps his eyes shut, studiously avoiding eye contact. "Tomorrow."  

"Oh, wow, so soon! I can't wait to get to know him." Amy’s tone is completely genuine, probably working out what she can bake that properly conveys a message of thanks for living with us! She applies a bit of firm pressure unexpectedly to the bloat beneath Cal’s ribs, and he groans, feeling a flutter in his stomach as it tries and fails to expel a rush of trapped air. “Oof--please don’t do that again,” he manages, clutching at his chest. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Amy says, sounding genuinely sad, and Cal slowly opens his eyes. “Just seems like you’ve got quite a lot of air stuck in there. Would you like some tea? Not chai, I guess...” 

Cal groans, shoving a couch pillow over his face. “I know. I’m an idiot. Oh, my tummy—” 

“Let me make you that tea,” Amy says lightly, giving his tummy a little pat before wrenching herself off the couch, and Cal loves the fuck out of her, has he mentioned? 

"I think you'll like him," Cal calls as Amy moves into the kitchen, deciding to take this opportunity to drop the bomb, adding more quietly, "Oh, and, small world, he worked with my dad."   

The rustling in the kitchen pauses, then starts again almost as suddenly as it stopped. "Does he...?"  

"Yeah, I told him. Didn't seem to bother him. He really likes the books."   

"The books," Amy murmurs, and oh God, not this again, but Amy is already following up with "Have you thought any more about what you're going to do with them?"   

Cal takes a deep breath and feels it stutter a little in his chest, reminding him he's been binding for a bit too long. "Yeah, actually. They were working on restoring the books when Dad died. He said he'd help me get them back into shape and I think I'll donate them to the university."   

"Oh," Amy says, pleasantly, and Cal reminds himself that Amy is good, that Amy is only doing what she thinks is best, what Zara told her would be best, that most rational people would question the wisdom of having cases of books worth thousands of dollars in an apartment not known for its impenetrable security measures. "That's really cool. He sounds like a really neat guy, Cal."  

Cal thinks of yellow-tinted glasses, of that scar on his face and the way he looked at Cal like he understands him. "Yeah," he says softly. "He really is."   

“Ginger or mint?” Amy calls, and Cal is thankful for the change of subject. 

“Ginger, please,” he calls back, carefully cupping his stomach with his palm, and takes a very deep breath. 

 *

A long while later, Amy has fallen asleep on his shoulder, a hand still splayed across his slightly-less-bloated belly, old episodes of The Twilight Zone streaming at a low volume on the TV. Cal can’t be bothered to move, too comfortable, too deep in thought, the churning of his belly finally soothed by Amy’s ministrations and a few shamefaced trips to the bathroom. 

Cal thinks about his dad every day, and that is no euphemism. He sometimes drifts past the extra room (Quincy's room, he thinks, something blooming in his chest in a way he doesn’t want to deal with right now) and sees his books, or catches sight of the scar on his knee he got the first and last time he and his dad went fishing when they were supposed to be studying for Cal's math test the next day, when a stray hook went straight through and he needed stitches, remembers the ice cream after, I'm not going to say don't tell your mom, but I'm going to say I won't if you won't, and he smiles, just a little (he didn't tell his mother). Every night he lays in a bed across from a desk that's been flush to the wall underneath the window since the day his dad built it, the one they picked out together at IKEA before Cal moved in, the one that had him muttering profanities for three hours on a blisteringly hot day in August while Zara’s mother, Virginia, poked her head in intermittently, how are those PhDs treating you, Dr. Kline?  Cal thinks about his dad all the time.  

It's just that he can't remember the day he died.   

It's just that he knows that he's the one who found the body, that he's the one who, somehow, called 911, who clung to Amy when the ambulance came, but he knows it the way you know stories about your fourth birthday party or your first day of school—more retelling than memory. Something you know because you're told.   

If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can remember what his uncle was wearing that day, what the perfume of the hospital secretary smelled like, but he can't for the life of him remember his dad's face, what the last thing he said to him was. And when it comes down to it, maybe he doesn’t remember what his uncle was wearing at all, maybe he just remembers him saying at the funeral, he bought me this tie, you know.   

You'd be surprised how many people come to a funeral for a professor, how many handshakes and hugs Cal got just for losing someone. How many looks of pity he got (gets) when they hear his name: Cal Kline, the guy who found his dad dead.   

And he can't even remember it.   

Psychogenic amnesia, Dr. Hodge told him in one of their first sessions, because yeah, when you're trans and you find your dad dead and can't fucking remember it, the one thing you spare no expense on is a really badass therapist. His brain couldn't handle what happened. He repressed it. It was the emotional shock, was the trauma, was the pain, yeah, Cal gets it.   

It's just that the one thing you should be allowed to hold onto are lasts, and Cal can't even remember his. He thinks of his dad and sees fishing, sees the lectures he sometimes sat in on, sees a receding hairline and eyes just like his and of course I still love you, sweetheart, daughter or son, you're family, and it aches.   

He wonders if Quincy's lost someone, if that's why he looked at him like that, eyes soft and understanding but not pitying. I get it, he said, and Cal believes him.   

Cal rolls that around in his head like a marble.  

I get it. I get it. I get it.   

Yellow's an awfully pretty color. 

[breathlester]

Three for the price of one

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

summary: ‘the holiday’ inspired au where Dan and Phil spend a promising first date until Phil leaves in a hurry, dropping his wallet. Dan returns it the next day hoping for an explanation, but gets more than he bargained for.

genre: angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, parenting, halloween/autumn

cw: references to minor character death, car accidents and trauma/injury; mentions of alcohol

"Soo ur still good 4 tonight?"

Dan taps away at his laptop nervously, waiting for the reply that comes seconds later.

- "I am indeed. x] Why, are you having second thoughts?"

He exhales, a smile forming on his face. Phil has a way of combining perfect grammar with strange emojis that makes Dan’s stomach flip over in the most pleasant way. And thinking about the effect Phil will have on him when they’re face to face for the first time in a couple of hours does absolutely nothing to calm his nerves.

"Nah just making sure haha :D" he types, ignoring the fact that he is nowhere near as relaxed as the casual “nah“ suggests.

Phil just sends a "♡" in response and Dan promptly chokes on his own saliva, hurrying to replicate the symbol, accidentally adding a second 3 to the heart. Hopefully Phil won’t think he’s overly eager. Although he is, but Phil doesn’t need to know that.

- "Can’t wait to see you, but you will have to let me leave now if you want me to be on time! ^-^"

"k, see u in 3 hours!"

- ":)"

Dan stares at the smiley face for a good half minute, his own face mirroring the expression, before he pulls himself together and logs out of the dating website.

„Right, time to choose an outfit.“

He turns around to consider the assortment of clothes laid out on his bed. His two favorite pairs of black skinny jeans, four different black t-shirts, one button-down (black) and two jackets (both black as well). At least the colour won’t be a problem...

-

Hushed beats of a slow-paced indie song sound softly through the walls and the lights are comfortably dim, the pub warm and buzzing with people, but it doesn’t have the same relaxing effect on Dan as it usually would. His eyes scan the room anxiously and his teeth torment his bottom lip. He’s about to make his way over to the bar when someone calls his name and he halts, turning and catching the eye of a tall black-haired man on the other side of the room. “Phil,” Dan says under his breath, exhaling in relief, and starts towards him.

His date is sat on one of the sofas in the corner, looking absolutely gorgeous. Even though they’ve skyped a handful of times before to make sure neither of them is a 60-year-old pervert, Dan finds himself speechless at the sight of Phil. His denim shirt is unbuttoned to reveal a turquoise t-shirt that brings out the various colours in his eyes and his black hair is pushed back to reveal his forehead. His features are clear-cut, skin as pale as if he’s carved out of marble, and he’s smiling at Dan.

“Hi,” Dan breathes, feeling himself blush and his heart beat quicken.

Phil gets up to greet him and they behold each other for an awkward moment before Phil chuckles and leans in to hug him. “Hi,” he says softly next to Dan’s ear, and it takes all of Dan’s self-control not to melt right there in his embrace, butterflies tingling his stomach. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with a delicate flowery scent.

“You smell really nice,” he blurts out as they pull away, blushing even deeper when Phil’s beautiful eyes widen.

“Oh, thank you. I don’t wear cologne a lot. It’s not too much?” he asks abashedly, glancing up at Dan, who to his own surprise is slightly taller than him.

“Not at all! It’s, uh, it’s perfect.”

Phil answers with another bright smile that catches Dan off guard and giggles when it takes him a moment to sit down.

“So, do you feel more like dancing or talking?”

“How about a drink first?” Dan suggests and Phil waves a nearby waiter over to them. “Two margaritas, please. - Unless you need to drive?”

Dan shakes his head quickly and Phil adds with a playful little wink, “They’re on me.”

-

It’s been four months since Dan stumbled across Phil’s profile on the dating website and three since he’s worked up the courage to message him. Phil, who described himself as a “wanna-be writer and muse enthusiast”, replied a day later and from then on they’ve been chatting almost non-stop. Although Phil is four years older and lives on the countryside whilst Dan is a film student from central London, they’ve bonded over a similar taste in TV shows and music. However, it has taken Dan a while to coax some more personal information out of Phil and even longer until Phil agreed to their first date – even if the other man assured him that this was only due to being busy and not because he was hesitant to meet him. To be honest, that didn’t really convince Dan since he could not imagine a self-employed writer and editor to have an immovable time schedule.

All that aside, if tonight goes well, Dan is more than willing to forget about this tiny drop of bitterness.

And so far, it’s going great.

They’ve sipped their drinks and Phil has interrogated Dan about the internship with the BBC he is currently diong in the course of his studies. In turn, he’s let Dan in on his work as an editor and his new-found obsession with house plants.

“I’ve got quite a nice garden, but there’s not much to do out there in the cold season, so I thought, why not get some green inside? Big mistake. Turns out house plants are a lot more high-maintenance! I’ve already killed two!”

Dan giggles, taking another sip of his drink. “I couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. I guess student digs just aren’t the most healthy environment.”

No matter what he’s talking about, Dan finds himself drawn in and fascinated by Phil. He’s got a uniquely funny way of telling a story that has Dan giggling like a teenager and hanging on his lips like snake bite piercings.

And his eyes sparkle when he laughs. “Oh, I like that song! Fancy some dancing?”

Feeling warm and pleasantly tipsy, Dan nods and takes the hand Phil offers him. More like I fancy you, he thinks as they take their place among couples and singles on the dancefloor in the adjoining room and after some stumbling around fall into an easy rhythm.

Phil’s arm is resting on Dan’s shoulder and it feels both casual and meaningful, like a careful experiment. The exhilarating beat of Muse’s Madness pumps through Dan’s veins and lets his spirit soar, makes him throw his head back and grin at Phil whose eyes are reflecting the flashing spotlights like lighthouses. He’s beautiful and he’s mouthing the lyrics at Dan, pulling dramatic faces, and Dan feels so good, so alive and amorous…

When the song fades into a slow-paced one, Phil’s arm slips down from his shoulder and snakes around his waist, and Dan gently pulls him closer until the other man’s chin rests on his shoulder. They sway on the spot, engulfed in each other’s presence like a small bubble in a sea of people. The butterflies in Dan’s stomach have doubled and are swirling uncontrollably.

“Hi there, again,” Phil whispers, and Dan runs his hands up his torso, feeling him shiver under his touch. “Hi.”

Slowly, his hands move from Phil’s shoulders to his cheeks and he gives him a questioning look. Phil’s forehead is pressed against his as they lock eyes and he smiles, all flushed skin and the tickling of soft hair, of warm breath. Dan glances down at his lips…

A ringtone disturbs the ballad now playing in the background and Phil recoils, his right hand darting into his back pocket immediately. Dan releases the breath he’s holding, feeling disappointment seep through him like a sudden downpour.

He catches sight of Phil’s phone screen for a second and registers against his will that the caller is a pretty blonde woman saved as “Louise” in Phil’s contacts.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Dan, I have to take this!” Phil says loudly to make himself heard above the noise, offering him a quick apologetic smile before he pushes through the crowd, away from Dan.

-

He waits for one song, then another, moving awkwardly on his own along to an unknown beat. But when the third song spins into the fourth, Dan gives up his position and goes on a search. Another couple is snogging on the sofa where they had their drinks, and Phil’s not in the queue for the toilets, nor is he sitting at the bar. Perhaps he’s outside, Dan thinks and debates whether or not it would seem intrusive to go look for him if he’s still on the phone – but then the bartender waves him over.

“You haven’t seen a man with black hair done like mine, about my height?” Dan asks hopefully.

The heavily-tattooed, rather beefy guy nods and adds, “Told me to tell you he had to leave. Seemed terribly sorry about it.”

Dan’s heart sinks in his chest like a coin dropped in a fountain. “Did he say anything else?”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to rinse the glass he’s holding. “Was in a hurry. And besides, do I look like an answering machine to you?”

“I – no. Sorry,” Dan stutters, feeling his face grow hot with disappointment and embarrassment.

The barista’s face softens slightly. “Hey, better luck next time, mate, alright?”

Yeah, Dan thinks bitterly. Except there won’t be a next time after he’s let me down like this.

There’s no point in staying if Phil’s gone. Trudging to the front door, all excitement seeped out of him, he’s close to wallowing in self-pity when his foot catches on something on the floor.

Someone’s dropped a wallet. Not just any wallet though – it’s an Adventure Time themed one.

A grin has already halfway spread across Dan’s face when he bends down to pick it up, unfolding it carefully. What kind of adult would use an Adventure Time wallet on a date in a pub?

His assumption is confirmed when his eyes fall on the card tucked into the front pocket. “Philip Lester, editor and freelance writer,” it reads, and listed below are Phil’s phone number, email and home address.

I’ll give him one more chance, Dan decides as he pockets the wallet and pushes open the door, the chilly October wind ruffling his hair. Tomorrow I’ll drop the wallet off at his place and see if he’s got an explanation for me.

He hates to admit it, but he really hopes Phil does.

-

Dan looks down at his phone once again, double-checking the small blue dot that indicates his position. “This is the middle of fucking nowhere,” he declares out loud.

Behind him, though long out of sight, lies the city of London. To the left – nothing but fields. To the right a forest is climbing up the gentle curve of a hill. And ahead there’s this bumpy path he’s been following for the past thirty minutes that was most definitely not built for motorcycle trips. He’s beginning to regret his impulsive action.

And yet the app on his phone insists that he is on the right track. Dan takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet-smelling autumn air.

“Okay, let’s give this one last shot. Another half mile and if nothing turns up then except for more scarecrows and creepy abandoned barns, I’m going to turn back and send him his wallet by mail.”

He snaps the visor of his helmet shut with a sort of final resolution and mounts his motorcycle again.

The frosty head wind makes him wish he’d worn a jumper underneath his leather jacket and Dan is about to give up when the path leads through a small grove and turns a corner – and there it is, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

A single small, ancient-looking house, leaning alarmingly to one side, its uneven stone walls covered to a large part by rampant roses, some of them still in bloom.

There’s no fence surrounding the cottage, but the letterbox in front of it bears a wooden sign that dangles in the wind and states in ornate letters “Rosery Cottage”.

Hesitantly, Dan clambers off his bike and retrieves his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. “You have reached your destination.”

The narrow path of cobblestone that leads up to the door is framed by a couple of crooked walnut trees whose leaves are scattered across the lawn. To the right, an old battered VW Golf is parked on a makeshift driveway. A pair of wellingtons stand guard on the wooden patio.

Dan takes a deep breath and starts towards the house, thinking as he rings the bell, this better be Phil and not some misanthropic old hag.

-

What he certainly does not expect is a little girl in dungarees and a yellow jumper opening the door. Her copper brown hair is braided in two rather messy pigtails, her round face dotted with freckles and there’s a bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

“You’re tall,” the girl remarks casually after looking him up and down, pinching her chestnut eyes as if he’s blinding her.

As perplexed as Dan is, the comment makes him chuckle. “Am I really?”

“Yeah… you’re like, taller than my daddy.”

The last word makes Dan’s heart pick up speed and he’s about to say, “I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong place,” when a voice drifts through the hallway, accompanied by the dulled noise of a blow-dryer.

“Who’s at the door, Liv?”

It can’t be Phil, Dan tells himself. This guy just sounds similar because the noise distorts his voice.

Phil doesn’t have any kids - right? The image of the beautiful blonde from Phil’s phone screen reappears in front of Dan’s inner eye and he draws in a sharp breath –

“A man in a leather jacket, Daddy,” the girl yells back. “He’s very tall,” she adds after a second, almost reproachfully.

There’s a moment of silence, then the noise of the hair-dryer stops abruptly and the man who sounds like Phil shouts, “I’ll be right there!”

The girl keeps her eyes trained on Dan, making him uneasy, so he lets his gaze drop away from her face. She’s holding a furled newspaper in her hand, Dan can just make out an advert proclaiming “Three for the price of one!” and underneath it a crossword, partly filled in with wonky letters.

Someone clears their throat and Dan looks up, feeling his heart take a leap.

The man facing him is wearing mismatched socks and his black hair is still wet and ruffled, but it’s unmistakably Phil.

His eyes are wide and he looks like he can’t quite decide whether to smile or not. He looks a little bit guilty, Dan thinks with a selfish trace of satisfaction, but the feeling fades when he remembers the elephant in the room – although elephant is perhaps too large a word.

“I’ll take it from here, Olivia, thank you,” Phil says to the girl and her eyes flicker from Dan to Phil and back before she turns and skips off into another room.

“Olivia,” Dan repeats, avoiding Phil’s eye until he hears the other man sigh.

“Yes, her name’s Olivia, and she’s my daughter, as you might already have guessed.”

I’d be concerned if other children than your own called you daddy, Dan thinks, but he doesn’t say it because this is not the time for a joke. It’s time for an explanation.

“So who’s Louise?” he asks at the same moment that Phil asks, “So what brings you here?”

They finally look at each other.

“Shall I go first?” Dan offers. “Right. Last night, when you, er, bailed on me – you lost something.”

He tries to sound casual but the guilt becomes more evident in Phil’s face for a moment until Dan pulls the wallet out of his pocket and holds it out to Phil, whose eyes grow comically wide.

“My wallet! Thanks, I hadn’t even noticed – oh man, I owe you -”

“An explanation? Yeah, I’d say so,” Dan says with newfound confidence.

Phil exhales. “You’re right. I have some explaining to do. - Oh god, I haven’t even asked you in yet, I’m the worst -”

He steps aside, holding the door open. “Please, make yourself at home. I know you’re probably less than elated by me right now, but I promise I can explain if you let me.”

Dan looks down at the threshold in front of him. The welcome mat he’s standing on has a pattern of sleeping cats on it. One small step for man, one giant step for Dan, he thinks dryly. If he steps into Phil’s house now and more than that, into his life, it will never be this easy to leave again.

For some reason, the image of the newspaper the girl was holding appears to him. If only life were as simple as a crossword puzzle, with only one right answer to every question.

“Tell me one more thing before I come in,” Dan asks. “Seven letter word, starting with M, or eight letters starting with D?”

Phil stares at him for a moment, then his smile falters as he gets the hint.

“Seven,” he says quietly.

Married, then – Dan thinks, a sick feeling rising in his stomach, and he’s about to turn away and leave for good, when Phil adds in an even smaller voice, “But the first one’s a W.”

-

Seven letters, starting with W. It’s just like a crossword, but it’s not an easy solution at all, and having solved it doesn’t make Dan feel any better, instead it makes him feel awful.

Widowed, he thinks, and bites down hard on his bottom lip. Widowed. Of course, that makes sense. It explains the careful pace at which Phil went about their blossoming relationship. It explains his inability to be spontaneous, and the fact that he didn’t want to talk much about his past.

Phil’s a widower, and he’s got a child, and Dan is so, so insensitive.

He looks up at Phil slowly, afraid of meeting his gaze. But Phil doesn’t look angry or as if he’s about to cry. His face is painfully composed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Phil replies, and somehow that is all it takes for Dan to step inside and pull the door shut behind him.

He hands Phil the wallet, but instead of letting him pull his hand away, Phil holds on to it.

“Thank you,” he mutters and Dan gently presses his hand.

“Daddy, Micah keeps trying to take my pen!”

The bright voice from the right makes them both flinch, and Phil gives him a little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “This way, please.”

The room to the right that they enter is the kitchen. Sunlight falls in through the windows and illuminates the large wooden table at which Olivia is sat, facing the door. The newspaper is spread out in front of her, opened to the kids’ page.

A small boy, a toddler at most, is squirming in his high chair, reaching out across the table for the pen Olivia is holding. As Olivia pulls it away from his grasp, he whimpers.

“Micah, hey!” Phil rushes towards them and takes the boy’s chubby little hand in his. “This is Livy’s pen, okay? Here, those crayons are for you. - And you, Liv – don’t be so harsh on him, you hear me? He doesn’t understand that it’s yours.”

He turns to Dan again, his face relaxing slowly. “Dan, these are my children, Olivia and Micah. Kids, this is Dan, who I was meeting up with last night.”

Dan smiles nervously as Olivia observes him, then she gives him a sudden toothy grin and turns back to her crossword.

“Here, take a seat please”, Phil says. “Do you want to drink anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee would be lovely, if it’s not too much trouble,” Dan replies, sitting down on the wooden chair next to Olivia.

“Not at all.”

As Phil is busy with the coffee machine, Dan’s gaze drops to the table. Opposite of him, Micah is scrawling something undefinable with crayons. His hair is thick and darker than Olivia’s, his eyes azure and large in his round face. He seems to have trouble controlling his crayon, his small hand is clenched in a fist around it. Dan doesn’t have a lot of experience with young children, but Micah has to be at least two years old…

“I need a word with four letters for this flowery thing, daddy,” Olivia pipes up, catching Dan’s attention. “It’s not a tree, but plant and flower don’t fit.”

He peers at the crossword she’s working on. It has pictures in front of every line instead of questions.

“Give me a moment, Liv,” Phil says, rummaging in a cupboard for a mug.

“Have you tried rose?” Dan suggests charily.

Olivia looks up at him in surprise, then back at the paper. Her letters fit neatly in the boxes. “It works! Thanks, Dan.”

He smiles charily. “You’re welcome.”

Phil places the mug of coffee down in front of him before he sits down next to the high chair. Leaning on his elbows, he hides his face in hands for a moment.

When he emerges, he looks up at Dan. “So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You wanted to know about Louise.”

Dan, who’s about to take a sip from his coffee, puts the mug down, barely avoiding a spill of the scalding liquid.

“She’s a friend who occasionally takes care of my two rascals when I’m out. She was here last night and called to tell me Micah had banged his head. Turned out to be half as bad, but I tend to panic about my baby.” He reaches out to gently brush the hair back from Micah’s forehead, revealing a small reddened bump near his hairline.

The young boy reacts promptly. “Owie.”

A caring smile lingers on Phil’s lips. “Yes, you had an owie. Does it still hurt?”

“No more owie,” the toddler babbles, shaking his head.

“Good.”

Phil withdraws his hand, turning his attention back to Dan. His smile fades. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly, I overreacted. It’s just – Micah, he was in the car when…”

His voice trails off, but Dan’s fairly sure he can finish the sentence for himself. Phil must have lost his wife, the mother of his children, in a car accident.

Before Dan can think of what to say, Phil leans towards him across the table. “That’s why he’s a bit behind in development,” he adds in a low voice.

Dan glances at the toddler who’s clearly in his own world, scribbling away at the paper in front of him (and occasionally straying over the edges onto the wooden plate of his high chair). He tries to find something to say in reply, but quickly comes to the conclusion that there isn’t anything.

And Phil doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer. As Dan looks back at him, his eyes have gone out of focus, the iridescent blue glazed over with a hazy dolour that’s impossible for Dan to grasp. With a leap of his heart he reaches out one hand and places it on top of Phil’s that’s resting on the table.

Phil’s starts, blinking at him. He doesn’t smile, and yet there���s a glint that returns to his eyes as he becomes aware of Dan’s touch. When Dan dares to gently run his thumb over the back of his hand, he doesn’t flinch or pull back.

Silence settles into the room, not empty but filled with the sound of pencil scraping against paper and the strangely reassuring noise of an old house, alive with the creaking of wood and rattling of wind at its window panes.

The mug of coffee sits in front of Dan, gradually cooling down, forgotten in the moment.

-

It’s Micah who breaks the silence eventually.

“Daddy,” he says, and Phil startles, looking up and withdrawing his hand gently from Dan’s. “Yes, darling?”

But Dan observes with a hidden delight the faint flush of pink that’s settled on his cheekbones.

“Doggy,” is all Micah says in response, and Dan thinks he’s beginning to see what Phil meant earlier. Although children are more or less a novelty to him, surely a two-year-old would be able to form simple sentences?

He is torn out of his pondering by Phil’s voice. “Go on, take it.”

Dan looks up, finding that Micah is holding a sheet of paper out to him. There’s a bunch of brown crayon lines in one corner that vaguely form the shape of an animal, but that might be just interpretation because he knows what it’s supposed to be.

“For me?”

Micah nods, his blue eyes sparkling.

Dan smiles. “That’s… very kind of you, Micah. What a beautiful dog you’ve drawn there!” He takes the edge of the sheet between his fingertips; Micah lets go with a satisfied expression on his round face.

Phil reaches out to kiss the top of his son’s head. “Good boy, Micah.”

Dan looks down at the drawing, blinking, trying to conceal how touched he is. He really isn’t accustomed to children, doesn’t know how to behave around them, but his reaction to Micah’s drawing seems to have made the boy happy.

“Daddy, when are we leaving for London?” Olivia asks. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the change of atmosphere before, much to Dan’s relief. He has no idea how she feels about him getting to know her dad. Surely it can’t be easy after she’s lost her mother…

“Another two hours,” Phil says after a glance at his wristwatch. “Are you hungry yet? We can have lunch in a bit.”

Olivia nods, putting her pen away and folding up the newspaper. “I’m done with the crossword. Correct it for me, daddy, please?”

Phil smiles. “Of course, honey. Later, yeah? Though I’m sure there won’t be much to correct.” He takes the paper from her.

“You’re going to London today?” Dan asks.

“The therapist has her office in the city,” Phil replies, adding, “can we offer you a ride?” as if the thought has just occurred to him.

“Oh, thank you, but I came on my motorbike.”

“You’ve got a motorbike? That’s so cool! Daddy won’t let me get one,” Olivia pipes up.

Dan laughs. “Oh well, you see, motorbikes are very dangerous, so your father’s right about that. You’ve got to get a license so they’ll let you drive one. And for that license you’ve got to be of age.”

Olivia pushes out her lower lip. “That’s not fair. I’m so old already. Much older than Micah who’s just a baby.”

Phil, whose face has tightened up again, reaches out and strokes a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Patience, darling. Why don’t you draw a nice picture for the therapist before we leave? I’m sure she’d love that. And I’ll go have a chat with Dan – if you don’t mind?”

The last part is directed at Dan. He shakes his head, looking at Phil.

“I’m not in a hurry.”

-

He lets Phil lead him down a hallway framed with pictures. Some are drawings by Olivia, showing what is unmistakably the cottage, or a field of flowers – or a family, complete with a stick figure in a dress and long flowing hair.

The others are photographs.

Olivia in a nice dress with her schoolbag in hand and a wide grin on her first day of school. Micah lying in his crib, smiling up at the camera. The two of them playing in the snow together.

Phil reading to Micah who’s cuddled up to him. Phil braiding Olivia’s hair. Phil with his arms around the two of them.

Phil holding a newborn baby with flimsy hair and a reddened face, a younger Olivia leaning into the picture, curiously gazing at the small human. But they’re not the only ones on the picture – there’s a woman lying in the hospital bed behind Phil, her face out of focus, but the radiating smile still clearly visible.

There are more pictures of her. Ones of her baking biscuits with Olivia kneeling on the counter, stealing batter. Her rocking Micah in her arms, her mouth opened as if she’s singing a lullaby. The woman wearing a white dress and flowers in her hair, stood next to a beaming Phil in a suit. The two of them kissing.

Dan averts his gaze. He feels like an intruder.

“In here, please.” 

Taking a deep breath, Dan steps into the room.

It’s an office, complete with an old mahogany desk and shelves of books framing the walls instead of photographs as Dan notes with relief.

There are two armchairs near the window to which Phil guides him. They sit down, and Dan waits for Phil to speak, anxious suddenly about what he will have to say.

A moment of silence stretches at Phil looks around the room, letting his gaze wander as if he were the visitor.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Phil begins with a sigh, looking at his hands. “I’m not an easy person to date. I’m not your average single person – I’m a package deal.”

The newspaper advert comes back to Dan’s mind and he mutters, “three for the price of one.”

Phil chuckles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he looks up. “You could say that, I guess… though the price might be higher I fear… You should know - in fact, you deserve to know, the truth. I’m a single father. I work around the clock. I get up at six. I cook, I clean, I comfort, I play, I sew, I fix. And at night when the kids are in bed, that’s when I find time for my actual job. I never have any free time except for when I get someone to watch my children, and I can’t do that very often, considering how far out in the country we live and…”

He breaks off, lowering his face into his hands. “I don’t like leaving them. I can’t be at ease when I don’t know exactly that they’re safe. I know they probably seem fine to you, but Olivia has nightmares and Micah rarely sleeps through. Sometimes he has crying fits that last for more than an hour. Liv has days when she’ll only speak to a photograph of her mum. Some days it’s almost alright. But it’s never easy and we’re not a perfect family. When I lost… when we lost Sophie, when she was brutally torn out of our lives by a careless driver -” his shoulders quiver as if in a quiet sob, and Dan holds back from reaching out and touching him.

“It was very hard for all of us. It’s been two years, and sometimes it still feels like there’s a hole we’ll never be able to fill completely. Once a month, I take the kids to a therapist in London. They stay there for an hour – meanwhile, I’ve got my own therapy session.”

He lifts his head slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands as if they’re particularly interesting.

“I’m a man in therapy. I’m four years older than you, and I’ve got two children who demand a lot of care and attention. I barely make enough money to scratch along. I guess what I’m saying is… Dan, I really like you.”

That’s when Phil looks up to meet Dan’s eye. Dan sits transfixed, blinking in surprise. He didn’t expected that, not after the speech Phil’s just given.

The other man looks earnest, but his eyes are misty and his face contorted in regret.

“You must have noticed that I do. Talking to you over these past months has made me happier than I’ve been for a long time, and I’m so thankful for that. Meeting you last night was a dream. I’ll never forget it. I really do like you, Dan.”

Dan swallows hard at the repetition of the statement. His eyes have begun to sting. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?” he asks, willing his voice not to shake, willing his gaze not to stray from Phil’s sorrowful, beautiful face.

Phil takes a shivering breath. “I want nothing more than to get to know you. But I can’t leave my children, and I can’t have you come here and let them get used to you. They’ve already lost their mother. If we find we’re not meant to be, when we break up – they’ll get hurt. I can’t do that to them. I won’t let my children go through the pain of separation again, Dan. That’s why I have to say, I’m sorry. I like you, Dan, but I’m sorry, I can’t do this. And I know it’s not fair, and I probably shouldn’t even have agreed to meeting you, but I just -”

“Okay, Phil, hang on - ” Dan interrupts him, and Phil stops mid-sentence, his lips still parted. “What if we don’t?” he asks.

Phil’s staring at him. It’s so quiet Dan can hear him breathe. The moment feels extremely intimate and Dan wants to kiss the fear and worry off Phil’s face, but he remains where he is.

“If we don’t?” Phil repeats blankly.

Dan leans forward. “What if we don’t break up? Who’s to say it wouldn’t work out? What if we do, we click and we stay together…”

Phil’s eyes shut slowly, drawing ragged breaths.

“I mean, I guess I’d understand if you didn’t want to take the risk…,” Dan continues, but Phil cuts him off.

“Say I was willing to do so,” he replies, “would you want to bear with us? I’m in no way eager to send you away, but you’d have to be absolutely sure, Dan.”

He wants to say yes, but the word gets stuck in his throat. It’s not easy. It’s not as easy as he wants it to be. So he sits staring at Phil, mouth opened but no sound coming out, and Phil gives a sad little smile, not reproachful, but understanding.

Dan lifts his hand to prevent him from jumping to a conclusion.

“I’m going to need… time… to think about this,” Dan says slowly, looking Phil in the eyes as he speaks. “Because – I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it – but I really like you, too.”

There it is again, that sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the one that makes Dan’s stomach churn and the back of his neck prickle.

This time, it’s Phil who reaches out to take Dan’s hand. “I can give you time,” he says, and then, after a moment of contemplation, he adds, “You know what? How about this. Olivia is currently obsessed with dressing up” - a small smile curls the corner of his mouth upwards - “so we’re having a little gathering on Halloween. PJ will be there, the kids’ godfather and incidentally also author of the book I’m currently editing, and Louise with her husband and daughter. If you want to come, you’d be welcome to do so. If you don’t…” The look he gives Dan is gentle, and so is his voice when he finishes the sentence. “… then we’ll know.”

It’s two weeks until Halloween. Dan’s fellow students have already begun talking about the parties they’re going to attend.

He presses Phil’s hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He manages a small smile.

Phil smiles back, carefully, his eyes still not entirely free of pain.

“I believe,” he says then, very quietly, “there was something you wanted to do before my phone so rudely interrupted us last night.”

Dan’s eyes widen as realization hits him.

Phil’s face is close due to the fact that they’ve both leaned forward during their conversation, and his eyes are half-shut. There’s a tender smile still playing on his lips, and Dan’s eyes flicker down to them as he takes a shuddering breath.

Then, carefully, he closes the distance.

Phil’s hands move up to his cheeks. His lips feel warm and chapped against Dan’s, and he’s shivering ever so slightly, Dan feels it when his hands come to rest on Phil’s shoulders. He tastes like apples and cinnamon, as if he’s made of autumn spices.

The butterflies in Dan’s stomach are back, swirling like leaves in a thunderstorm. He tips his head to the side, deepening the kiss, drinking up Phil’s fear and sorrow, his sadness and his fondness, all of him.

The kiss doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, but it lingers in the air, tickles in their lips and their hearts after they part.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, not saying anything because there’s nothing to say, yet there’s a sort of intuitive understanding between them that fills Dan with hope. Maybe they will be able to work this out. But he needs time to think. He’s only twenty-four, still a student – a family hasn’t really been on his agenda until now, much less one that’s already sort of complete in itself.

“I should probably go check on Micah and Liv, see if they’re hungry,” Phil says, still so close his breath brushes Dan’s face. Melancholy has already worked its way back into the creases of his forehead and Dan wants to wipe it away, but he knows that he can’t, not yet.

So he says, “And I should probably head back, look into some work for uni.”

“Well,” Phil pulls back and the moment is gone. “Thanks for bringing me my wallet -”

“Sure -”

“I’ll walk you out,” he stands, holding his hand out to Dan who grasps it.

“- and the kiss,” Dan adds, “I owed you that, too.”

His playful words manage to conjure up another one of Phil’s smiles, and he doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand until they’re at the front door. Outside, the wind has picked up, sending swirls of crimson leaves across the yard.

Dan and Phil stand facing each other, drawing out the moment of their parting. Finally, Phil averts his gaze and opens the door, and Dan zips up his leather jacket.

“I’m glad you came, Dan,” Phil says honestly.

“Yeah,” Dan replies, shivering slightly, though not from the rush of cold air.

“Me too.”

-

The last day of October is clear and bright, the sky a pearlescent grey. A strong breeze chases leaves across the country lane, making the trees sway and rustle. It’s cold, but this time Dan’s wearing a woolen jumper underneath his leather jacket, and anyway, he’s positively buzzing with a vibrant energy that warms him from the inside – and tickles him to push his foot down further on the accelerator, but he’s a responsible driver. He smiles to himself, feeling the wind and excitement drive him towards his destination.

When the cottage comes into sight behind the tree line, Dan’s smile grows wider. Two unfamiliar cars are parked outside the property on the side of the road, but he lets his motorcycle wheel past the post box and to a stop next to Phil’s car.

Taking off his helmet, Dan inhales the frigid, exhilarant autumn air. His pulse is throbbing both with adrenaline and anticipation. As he approaches the house, he picks up on snatches of cheerful conversation and hushed music that seep through cracked windows.

Two large pumpkins stand guard on the patio this time, their expressions hardly threatening. Dan feels like he must look somewhat like them – glowing with excitement, grin unalterably carved into his face.

Standing in front of the door, he takes a deep breath. He’s nervous, but not because he’s uncertain. He’s made up his mind, he’s decided to come here tonight for a reason. It’s just that it might be the biggest decision he’s ever made, and that does scare him quite a lot.

Okay, Dan. This is your last chance for turning back, he thinks, but instead he reaches out and rings the bell.

The sound seems to resonate in his chest.

A face appears briefly in the door window and with a squeal of excitement the door is wrenched open.

“Hi Dan!” says a cat the size of a young girl. She’s wearing an Alice band with cat ears on it and someone has painted crooked whiskers across her cheeks.

“Hi Olivia. Nice costume.”

Olivia grins. “Thanks! You too.”

He’s opted for a jumper with ghosts and pumpkins on it rather than a full-on disguise.

Stepping aside to let him pass, she adds, “Daddy’s in the kitchen.”

There’s a familiar twinkle in her eye that makes Dan wonder how much she knows, but he just smiles back and follows her inside.

As he closes the door behind himself, Olivia skips back down the hall to where the music is playing, but Dan remains where he is.

There’s a clanking of pots coming from his right. He swallows nervously, taking a final deep breath of courage before he steps into the kitchen.

Phil’s standing at the counter with his back turned to Dan, wearing a vampire’s cloak. His pale skin certainly fits the image, Dan thinks, feeling a grin tug on his lips.

For a moment he wonders how to announce his arrival, but then Phil turns around and flinches violently.

“Jesus, Dan!” he exclaims, blue eyes wide with shock, stumbling back against the counter. “You scared me!”

“Kind of the whole point of Halloween, isn’t it?” Dan asks, taking a few steps into the room. “Though I must say, your appearance is a lot scarier than mine.”

Phil’s face relaxes and he smiles, which entirely refutes Dan’s statement.

They stand facing each other for a moment, the realisation of what Dan’s presence means prickling like electricity in the air between them.

Then Dan clears his throat. “So, uh… Trick or treat?”

Phil laughs. “I’m afraid the treats are reserved for the children,” he says, biting his lower lip. His eyebrows are raised as if in a challenge.

“That’s too bad,” Dan’s about to say when Phil adds, “But I might have kept a special treat for you.”

They’ve gravitated towards each other almost subconsciously so that when Dan speaks again, he can see the sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the smudged red paint below his lip and even a few faded freckles that are dusted across his nose and cheeks.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Phil’s gaze drops and Dan feels his heartbeat speed up again. Instead of replying, he slowly leans in. Licking his lips, Dan lets his eyelids flutter shut in expectation.

They snap open again a mere second later, accompanied by a gasp when he feels Phil’s hot breath fan his neck.

“Ph-phil, what are you -”

“Never trust a vampire, Dan,” Phil mutters, lips ghosting over a patch of skin, not quite touching it.

Instinctively, Dan’s hands have shot up to hold onto Phil’s shoulders. He moves them now, his breath hitching, heart thudding, to Phil’s face and tilts it gently upwards.

“You sneaky little shit,” he murmurs affectionately.

Phil’s grinning widely, his eyes scrunched up and lucid like the pumpkins outside.

“Now I have no choice but to trick you,” Dan continues quietly, “seeing as you wouldn’t give me,” he leans in closer, “my…” his mouth brushes Phil’s cheek, making his breath stutter. “…treat,” Dan completes the sentence against Phil’s lips.

They kiss slowly, unrushed, lips parting and reconnecting again in sync with their breaths. As if to prove his previous statement, Phil eventually takes Dan’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles on it gently, causing Dan to let out a small moan. They’re stood pressed together from head to toe now. He can feel Phil’s heart beat against his own and the gentle touch of his hands on the back of his neck.

When Phil begins to pull away, Dan whimpers in protest, holding on to him tighter, and Phil smiles against his lips, his fluttering eyelashes tickling Dan’s cheek.

“Happy Halloween, Dan,” he mumbles, winding his fingers into Dan’s hair.

“I’m glad you came.”

*** this used to be on my ao3 page (softiejace). i’m taking down my phan content for personal reasons but reposting it here so people can still enjoy it :) ***

[hermannsthumb]

hey idk if u take prompts like this but I love ur work; there’s a line in Hozier’s song Talk that says “so I’ll try to talk refined, for fear that you’ll find out how I’m imagining you” where hermann overcompensates for his dirty thoughts about newt by being exceptionally proper

newt’s Himbo energies in this one are off the charts..... (warning for 18+ content later on)

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

The first thing Hermann says upon walking into the lab one ordinary Friday morning, half-asleep, travel coffee mug in hand, most comfortable sweater pulled on, is “What on earth are you doing?”

The first thing Newton says, down on his hands and knees on the dirty lab floor, and peering under Hermann’s small bookcase, is “Looking for my contact lenses.”

This is not what Hermann expected to hear. He deposits his mug on his desk and frowns at Newton. “You don’t wear contacts,” he says.

“It’s something new I’m trying,” Newton says. “I break my glasses a lot, you know. And lose them a lot. More, uh, cost effective.” He swipes his hand under the bookcase and curses.

“You lost these, too,” Hermann points out.

Newton pops up for a brief moment merely to scowl at Hermann. Or, really, to scowl in Hermann’s general direction. He’s squinting in a way that makes it quite clear he can’t actually see anything. “I’m aware, Dr. Obvious.”

Hermann takes a sip of coffee and settles in against his desk. “It’s Captain Obvious.”

“I was making a joke, you dick,” Newton says. Hermann watches, mildly entertained, as Newton swipes fruitlessly beneath the bookcase a few more times before crawling over to feel under the kitchenette. “I had no fucking clue how to put these bitches in. They just--popped right out. Ew.” He lifts a moldy crust of bread up, squints at it, and tosses it over his shoulder. It bounces off Hermann’s shoe.

“Newton,” Hermann scolds, kicking it away.

“Newton,” Newt repeats in a mocking approximation of his accent. He gropes his way over to Hermann’s desk and comes to a stop in front of Hermann’s shoes. “Do you mind--?”

“What?” Hermann says. “Oh.”

Feeling a bit warm under the collar at Newton’s uncomfortably suggestive position, Hermann parts his legs. Newton dives between them to peer under the desk, thighs jostling either side of Hermann’s ankles, rear stuck out. His shirt is riding up his back. His sturdy back. If he turned over, Hermann would get a glimpse of his stomach, the sparse bit of hair that--or so Hermann presumes--trails down to his waistband. Hermann grows warmer. “Do be careful,” he says, swallowing hard. He taps at Newt’s boot with his cane. One false move and Newton could send him tumbling. Distantly, dazedly, he thinks he ought to move.

“Mmhmm,” Newton says, rear end wiggling, grunting loudly with effort, then, “Oh!” He wraps the fingers of one hand around Hermann’s calf to steady himself as he sits back on his heels and presents a single dusty contact lens with the other. “Got one.” He squints at it, pink tongue poking out between his lips, as if attempting to asses the damage.

“Fascinating,” Hermann says, hoping, vaguely, that Newton doesn’t attempt to cram it back into place without washing it. Newton’s shirt is still rucked up his chest; he’s not let go of Hermann. His hair is a mess. It would be very easy--almost too easy--for Hermann to thread his own fingers through that messy hair, to draw Newton closer, to press that pink tongue and lips to the front of his trousers and hear him make more of those lovely little grunts. Hermann taps his cane against Newton’s boot again. “N--Ah--I have to. Newton. I left something in my quarters.”

“Huh?” Newton says.

“Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann chokes out. “Ah. My quarters--”

Newton releases Hermann’s calf quickly, his eyebrows creasing in obvious confusion. Not without reason. Hermann has not used his full title since the early days of their correspondence. “Right. Sorry.”

“Jolly good,” Hermann says, and, fumbling with his cane, half-sprints away.

Newton’s reverted back to his standard eyeglasses when Hermann ducks back into the laboratory thirty minutes later, his problem taken care of, so to speak. “Failed experiment of the day,” Newton declares. He makes a show of flicking both--filthy--contact lenses into the trash bin, and then following them up with the box of the rest of them. Hermann wonders if Newton waited for him to get back to do that. He also wonders why, if Newton had his glasses on hand, he didn’t put them on before writhing around on the ground. “Oh well. It was worth a test run.”

He has dirt from the lab floor staining the knees of his skinny jeans. Forcefully dredging his mind from the gutter (Newton, scuffed jeans hiding bruises from where he’d kneeled for something else entirely, and something entirely for Hermann), Hermann nods stiffly. “Certainly. Of course.”

“Glasses suit me better, anyway,” Newton says, and tugs them off his face to wave them around.

"Indeed,” Hermann says.

This is hardly the first time Hermann has been caught embarrassingly off-guard by Newton’s ability to inject a healthy douse of sexuality into even the most innocuous behavior. Newton eats with his fingers and moans when he’s really enjoying his food. Newton has never managed to not stick his ass out into the air when he drops something and bends to pick it up. Newton sucks on the tips of pencils when he’s deep in thought, cheeks hollowed, lips puckered and spit-slick. It drives Hermann mad, frankly, sends him spiraling into completely inappropriate arousal in the middle of the laboratory or mess hall or restaurant every time; he’s long-since developed a routine on how to deal with it. Act proper. Act professional. Newton will never know.

It’s hardly the last time today, either. Hermann is around ninety-percent certain he’s imagining it (fantasizing unintentionally, perhaps) when, three hours later, he hears Newton emitting those same little obscene grunts as before, which is why he ignores it at first. Then they grow louder. Then--

“Hermann?” Newton says. A little squeaking huff. “Hey, dude, can you help me with something?”

Hermann drags his glasses off with a little sigh and sets down his chalk. “What is it?”

Another grunt. “Uh. I’m having--a little problem reaching something.”

When Hermann finally turns, it’s to find Newton leaping and swiping desperately at the cupboard above the kitchenette. Just out of reach for someone of Newton’s height. Not out of reach for someone of Hermann’s height. “We really ought to get you a step-stool,” Hermann says, but clacks over nonetheless. He’s not sure what could possibly be in that cupboard that’s so urgent that Newton needs it right away. They never use it.

Newton has not stopped swiping at the cupboard when Hermann comes up behind him; in fact, he’s only struggling harder. Evidently he’s not heard Hermann. “I almost--”

He grunts against as his fingertips graze the metal handle, deep and exertive, just as Hermann chooses that unfortunate moment to take a step forward to attempt to steady him; Newton falls back with a loud oof!, stumbling, ass rubbing fully against Hermann’s crotch, at the same time Hermann reaches out to catch him, on instinct, and ends up with a hand up Newton’s shirt and a grip around Newton’s soft left side.

Newton stares upside-down at him, eyes wide, glasses askew, pink blooming across his cheeks. Hermann stares down at Newton.

“Whoops,” Newton laughs. “Uh. Sorry. Thanks for--” He wriggles out of Hermann’s grip and turns, awkwardly, to pat his arm. Hermann jerks away.

“Of course,” he says. Too loudly. He pushes past Newton and pulls the cupboard door open so hard it nearly snaps off its hinges. “What--ah--what did you need?”

“Box of disposable gloves,” Newton says.

Hermann grabs it and thrusts it at Newt without even looking. He had not expected Newton’s skin to be so soft and warm to the touch. Obscene fantasies come, unbidden and fast: Hermann stroking both hands up that shirt and over that soft, warm body, Newton making those same little grunts and squeaks, perhaps, even, allowing Hermann to grip his waist and bend him right over and rub against him, rock his hips against him-- “Right,” Hermann says. “Well. Ah. Here you are. Newton. Dr. Geiszler.”

Newton’s tongue flicks out over his lips. He smiles. Innocent, and a little confused. Hermann feels a rush of guilt. “Hey, thanks!” Newton says. He rips open the top and pulls out a pair, teeth worrying at his lower lip for a flash of a second in concentration and leaving behind a tiny dent. He snaps the gloves on. “I bet a stool would count as a business expense.”

“Mm?” Hermann says. He cannot tear his eyes away from the dent. He could leave some of his own on Newton--kiss him until his lips are red and swollen, perhaps. Bite at them until Newton comes apart with a cry under Hermann’s fingertips. Until Hermann can taste blood.

“A stool,” Newton says, and Hermann wonders if all of him is as warm as his chest. “I said we could request a stool on our next supply requisition form.”

Hermann shakes his head. His heart is racing. “I suppose,” he says. He tries to push past Newton. “Ah. Yes. Pardon me, will you, I--”

“I can see your boner, Hermann,” Newton says.

Hermann freezes in his tracks. “Excuse me?”

“I can see your boner,” Newton repeats.

“No you can’t,” Hermann splutters, going beet-red, “that is to say--you cannot, because I do not have one.”

Newton points to the front of Hermann’s trousers; Hermann quickly blocks the view with his cane. “Yes you do,” Newton says. He takes a step closer, one hand settling to rest at Hermann’s waist, and flutters his eyelashes. “Is that for me?”

Hermann’s breath catches, and, for a moment, he considers confessing it all, the fantasies, how wild Newton drives him; then Newton’s face splits into a grin. Mortification surges within Hermann. “This is an entirely inappropriate conversation to be having in--in the workplace,” he spits, pushing Newton off and backing away, “as are your--your jokes. Completely unprofessional. Please refrain from--”

Newton catches his arm. “Listen, man,” he says. “Sorry. I’m not joking. Do you want me to blow you or not?”

Hermann blinks at him. “...Are you certain you’re being serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Newton says. 

“Alright,” Hermann says, happily.

[katzuyas]

I’ve been tagged in so many things over the past couple of weeks that I honestly don’t even have much more bookmark space left in my browser RIP so I finally decided to do all of it at once, hence the title and the rest of this longass post under the cut

bc there’s a lot of the tag games down there and tagging a million people would be annoying, I’m gonna tag 10 of you to grab a dice and roll it to figure out which meme you’re tagged for ^u^)b if you roll the same number twice, count that meme as the start from which to count and roll again! I hope you like this idea, but it’s only a suggestion so feel free to do whatever you want tbh?

@sweet-vitya, @gabzjones, @and-then-yoi-happened, @etherealalchemist, @joeys-piano, @quadruplyyours, @yuliaplisetskaya, @dreaming-fireflies, @teekettle, @iwritebetterthanispeak, @chessala

enjoy, if you want! 💕💕

tagged by @endlesscloudsoftime, thank you for the tag!!

rules: answer 20 questions, then tag 20 bloggers that you want to get to know better.

1. Name: kat

2. Nicknames: same tbh

3. Height: 170cm

4. Orientation: who knows who cares (it’s pan)

5. Nationality: polish

6. Favorite fruit: mango, cherries, I love watermelon too but the seeds piss me off too much to fully enjoy it

7. Favorite season: anything that doesn’t make me sweat off my skin but isn’t also freezing my toes is more than fine with me ^u^)b

8. Favorite plant: I don’t think I have any favs here

9. Favorite scent: I have this yankee candle ‘sweet candies’ and I can just DIE wrapped in that scent holy sheet (when it comes to perfume tho I’m a sucker for the original chloe, but I also love calvin klein’s euphoria bc it’s just Fresh)

10. Favorite color: any pastel really

11. Favorite animal: MY SWEET PUPPER HINA (so yes, dogs)

12. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: coffee sometimes, TEA AND GREEN TEA AND VANILLA CHAI!!!!!!, hot chocolate is a nope

13. Average sleep hours: I always try for 8h bc otherwise I’m a zombie, but it doesn’t always work out so... I’m a part-time zombie anyway lmao

14. Dog or cat person: ISN’T THE PIC PROOF ENOUGH THAT I LOVE MY FURRY DOGGO SON

15. Favorite fictional character: victor nikiforov. that’s it. that’s all. we can all go home now

16. Number of blankets you sleep with: 1 + a duvet bc I like being cosy

17. Dream trip: japan, always. but another one would be a trip to the harry potter universal store or the noble collection store I guess

18. Blog created: who even remembers this pffff (somewhen in august 2011 I think)

19. Number of followers: I’m just gonna say it’s a four number figure ;3c

20. Random fact: I’m currently rewatching lord of the rings and procrastinating writing so YES I’M A NERD AND A BAD PERSON AHAHA //sweats

tagged by @story-kat -- thanks love, I actually really like these so it was great fun to do 💕

Rules: using only song titles from one artist/band, cleverly answer the questions and then tag people

artist/band: one ok rock

what is your gender: stuck in the middle

how do you feel: jaded

if you could go anywhere: start again

favorite mode of transportation: mighty long fall

your best friend: wherever you are

favorite time of day: taking off

if your life was a tv show: liar

relationship status: hard to love

your fear: bombs away

tagged by @endlesscloudsoftime, thanks again!! ahaha I feel like I’ll be saying this a lot today, but you spoil me /)u(\

Rules: tag 9 people you want to know better or just because you feel like it.

Relationship status: taken ;3c

Favorite color: any pastels, really

Last song I listened to: still the lord of the rings ost

Last movie I watched: lord of the rings lol two towers ^u^)b

Top 3 tv shows: game of thrones (bc I love my fantasy shit), rein (bc I love my history shit), and american housewife (bc I love laughing and this show is Hilarious with the capital H)

Top 3 characters: victor nikiforov bc I adore him, hinata shouyou bc he’s my sunshine son and I gotta mention miyuki kazuya bc his smirks still keep me awake at night 😍😍😍

What I’m currently reading: honestly? my own writes bc I have no time for anything other than editing orz

tagged by @themayflynans and @endlesscloudsoftime, thank you both!! 💕

A - Age: 26

B - Birthplace: poland

C - Current time: 11:50am

D - Drink you last had: just some coke

E - Easiest person to talk to: nowadays it’s gotta be @saniika and @and-then-yoi-happened bc I know I can be as salty and upset as I feel when I talk to them and that it’s alright to just let it all out which is something I wish for everyone to have 💕

F - Favourite song: don’t have one tbh

G - Grossest memory: back in elementary school my class was in warsaw to see the big zoo there and one of the chimpanzees just projectile shat all over our teacher and it was simultaneously the most awesome and the fucking WORST bc she smelled like shit the whole trip back home ugh

H - Horror yes or horror no: depends on what kind of horror but generally? meh

I - In love?: no idea tbh but definitely comfortable in my relationship

J - Jealous of people?: you’ve no idea. jelly and bitter.

L - Love at first sight or should i walk by again?: walk by and actually tell me you’re interested bc I’m a blind pan who is easily confused

M - Middle name: magdalena ;3c

N - Number of siblings: 0

O - One wish: Been keeping Salty’s answers here - yes, to learn to love myself.

P - Person you called last: my mom lol she’s the only one I call, really

Q - Question you are always asked: "so when will you start looking for a job?”

R - Reason to smile: VICTUURI!!!!!!!!!!!!!

S - Song you sang last: oh man I don’t even remember, I don’t really sing out loud

T - Time you woke up: these days? 6:30am

U - Underwear colour: sea green-blue, turquoise?

V - Vacation destination: I’m going to japan next year to see ice adolescence even if it kills me

W - Worst habit: biting the inside of my cheeks bloody

X - X-rays: my hand when I had a small accident playing badminton, my jaw for my braces

Y - Your favourite food: PIZZA HELLO

Z - Zodiac sign: gemini ;3c

tagged by @theexitgarden and @endlesscloudsoftime, bless you both and thank you for thinking of the old me 💕 

1st RULE: Tag 9 people you want to get to know better:

we’ll be skipping this one bc of reasons //sweats

2nd RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.

APPEARANCE: - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo -I have at least one piercing - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined - I have or had braces

PERSONALITY: - I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY: - I can sing well - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory- I am good at doing math in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES: - I enjoy sports - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority- I do some form of Martial arts

EXPERIENCES: - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite bands concert

MY LIFE: - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live close to my school/work - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling- I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smartphone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone

RELATIONSHIPS: - I am in a relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year - I have been in a relationship for over a year - I have had feelings for a friend

RANDOM: - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages - I have made a new friend in the past year

tagged by @story-kat and @endlesscloudsoftime (astea m’dude ur tagging me in everything and I love you for it)

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE SONG(S) TO SING?

I will most often hum or mouth lyrics when I’m writing and my brain gets distracted so it usually is some sort of acoustic cover of a rather popular song, like despacito? lol WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE FLOWER/TREE/PLANT?

I don’t have one tbh FAVOURITE COLOURS?

anything pastel!! WHAT DO YOU ALWAYS DOODLE?

I don’t anymore but it used to be some random squigglies??

HOW DO YOU TAKE YOUR COFFEE/TEA?

2.5 teaspoon of sugar into both + 1/4 milk/cream into the coffee and 1/4 cold water into the tea FAVOURITE CANDLE SCENT?

SWEET CANDIES FROM YANKEE CANDLE. BURY ME IN THIS. SUNRISE OR SUNSET?

sunrise bc I don’t even see sunsets anymore (I’m asleep then lol) WHAT PERFUME DO YOU WEAR?

the original chloe is what I like most but I would die for dior’s j’adore, it’s so nice 😍😍😍 in the summer I’m wearing masaki’s fluo tho bc it’s sweet and summery

WHAT’S YOUR GO-TO DANCE MOVE WHEN YOU’RE ALONE?

butt wiggling? maybe? idk man I never really thought about it? lol FAVOURITE QUOTE?

“Because people don’t have wings, we look for other ways to fly.” -- somehow this one always sticks with me bc it’s so beautiful and vivid that you’d never say it’s from a japanese cartoon lmao

FAVOURITE SELF CARE ROUTINE(S)?

sleeping, kicking back and watching some dumb movie that won’t make me think of anything but how dumb it is

FUZZY SOCKS OR HOUSE SLIPPERS?

both? I like fuzzy socks in winter but in summer I go barefoot but sometimes u gotta have something between your skin and the floor so = slippers WHAT COLOUR ARE YOUR EYES?

brown

WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE EYE COLOUR ON OTHERS?

I don’t honestly care but blue eyes when they’re very light creep me out somehow FAVOURITE SEASON? WHY?

don’t have one but as long as it’s not too hot or too cold I’m good NECK, CHEEK, OR NOSE KISSES?

depends on what you want to achieve? neck kisses will have me melting, cheek kisses smile and nose kisses giggle and possibly blush so YEA THERE’S THAT

WHAT DOES YOUR HAPPY PLACE LOOK LIKE?

it’s my room. that’s it. this is my happy place

FAVOURITE BREED OF DOG?

ANY DOGGO IS A GOOD DOGGO AS LONG AS IT’S NOT THOSE SMOL ONES WHO BITE UR ANKLES FOR NO REASON DO YOU EVER WANT TO BE MARRIED?

idk, I mean yes I’d like to be married one day but I’m not really in any hurry to get there? CURSIVE OR PRINT?

I don’t honestly care

FAVOURITE WEATHER?

cloudy but not too cold

tagged by @story-kat, thanks for the tag babe!!

Rules: bold what you prefer and tag 10 people.

coffee or tea

early bird or night owl

chocolate or vanilla

spring or fall

silver or gold (BOTH! BOTH IS GOOD)

pop or alternative

freckles or dimples

snakes or sharks

mountains or fields

thunderstorm or lightning

Egyptian or Greek mythology

ivory or scarlet

flute or lyre

eyes or lips

witch or fairy

opal or diamond

butterflies or honeybees

macaroons or eclairs

typewritten or handwritten letters

secret garden or secret library

rooftop or balcony

spicy or mild

opera or ballet

London or Paris

Vincent van Gogh or Claude Monet

denim or leather

potions or spells

ocean or desert

mermaid or siren

masquerade ball or cocktail party

tagged by @endlesscloudsoftime, thanks for this omg I actually wanted to do this one!! 💕💕

THE AO3 TAG GAME:

WHAT IS YOUR TOTAL WORD COUNT ON AO3?

869 938! holy sheet I’m so close to 1mil???? wowowow o.O

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WRITE?

I try to write every day, but these days (with renovations going on and my sleeping schedule all fucked up) it’s really hard to find the time and focus to do it orz

DO YOU HAVE A ROUTINE FOR WRITING?

I actually do! or I did when I was still regularly writing lol it was something like this: cracking open an energy drink, lighting up my fav scented candle, booting up itunes and my writing playlist and generally just spending 5-6h just writing 💕  

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE KINKS/TROPES/PAIRING?

kinks: pet play, public or semi-public play, voyeurism, doggy style, also actually BOTTOM VITYA,      

tropes: reverse au, time travel, famous aus,

pairing: victuuri. no seconds. we die like man and only stan one (1) gay ship

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE FIC OF YOURS?

I don’t necessarily have an absolute fav but a fic that I still remember fondly and am beyond sad that got little to no attention is: if there’s a will, there’s a way bc I worked my ass off for it and I love every bit of it so? give it a read if you want to?

YOUR FIC WITH THE MOST KUDOS?

dazzle me with gold which will be getting an update this weekend ;3c

ANYTHING YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING?

recently? everything. I’m just broken and idk how to fix it bc I can’t even find a good moment to try so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

NOW SOMETHING YOU DO LIKE (ABOUT YOUR WRITING)?

how sweet and soft everything is when I’m in a good mood bc victuuri deserves this kind of love and I’m so happy writing it for them 🙏🙏🙏

tagged by @amaanogawa, thanks so much ems!!!

1) How many works in progress to do you currently have in progress?

one actual wip and like... 5 more that just sit and wait their turn? //sweats

2) Do you/would you write fan fiction?

rip that’s all I write too... tbh I used to write original fiction before but I find myself much less constricted by fanfic? I can explore the characters here more than I can in original fiction where worldbuilding takes most effort

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

oh definitely paper! if I could I’d buy printed out fanfic too!

4) When did you start writing?

I was about 12 I think? it all started with harry potter, like everything else has, and I regret not a second of it!

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

sometimes when i get very excited about what i’m writing i’ll tell my fandom friends about the specific AU that i’m writing about but in terms of reading the full length fic, i don’t have anyone that i let read before anyone else. it’ll be on ao3 for everyone at the same time.

6) Where is your favourite place to write?

my desk, my pc. I can write on my phone but I like to edit as I go and it’s hard to do on the phone.

7) Favourite childhood book?

do I even need to say it? harry potter

8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?

for fun, but with the aim of possible future publication maybe?

9) Pen and paper or computer?

always computer. i have only recently begun writing fics on my phone because i’ve been traveling a lot and i don’t always have my laptop on my person, but it’s still much more comfortable to sit down and type on a proper keyboard.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

at my uni, yes. and it completely sucked bc they didn’t teach anything, just had us write random shit for 3 years so eh

11) What inspires you to write?

everything? like, any random thing or thought I’m instantly trying to weave into my writing, turn it into a prompt. every new experience is just a basis for me to write on.

but if you’re asking WHY I write: I don’t even know, I’ve never thought about it? it’s kind of like asking why I breathe ahaha I just do? it’s a part of me? idk man idk

tagged by @themayflynans, thanks for this love!!

7/7/7 tag

The rules are as follows: Go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the seventh line, share seven sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

oh wow ok this is a difficult one bc I don’t think I even have a wip 7 pages long //sweats let me see... aha, okay, I found one! from back in march when I asked people to send me over some numbers for one of those writing memes and @theexitgarden I believe (??) sent me the prompt “I don’t think anyone could be as lovely as you” for victuuri and I kind of got a blind!victor au from it?? wELP here’s the fragment of it:

His music is vibrant in a way that he couldn't play on his piano alone and the clap of the blades that he can hear from the speakers of his TV makes him only more certain – this boy, Yuuri Katsuki, is skating to the sound of Victor's soul as if it's his own.

He never notices the tears that well up in his eyes until they roll down his cheeks and Makkachin presses against his side, whimpering in concern. Victor runs a trembling hand through her soft fur and takes a deep breath. And then, he decides.

"Yasha," he says when his former coach, his father in all but blood picks up Victor’s call. "I want to do this."

And he does it.

tagged by @endlesscloudsoftime again, boy you spoil me ahaha

1. Which fictional character would be the most boring to meet in real life?

I have no idea tbh bc even the characters I don’t like wouldn’t be exactly boring, so??? I honestly don’t know

2. What problem or situation did TV / movies make you think would be common, but when you grew up you found out it wasn’t? (i’m lowkey taking a jab at hsm because thanks Disney for making me think high school would be awesome)

hooking up with people ALL THE TIME when you’re in your 20s bc wtf what a bold-faced lie omg

3. What would be on the gag reel of your life?

"how many times can kat click her tongue at random strangers who piss her off by breathing the same air?” and a manip of all the eyerolls I do bc let me tell you... THERE’S A LOT

4. What does “infinite” mean to you?

my love for victor nikiforov

5. If your life was a movie, what songs would be on the soundtrack?

definitely lots of acoustic vibes and harry potter tunes and I can bet your ass that I’d have the yeah yeah yeah ost from yoi bc it’s such a banger and I LOVE IT but also dramatic classical violin and piano bc they pull on my heart and I am weak

6. What item would be your top choice to make into a horcrux?

honestly? my phone probably. I don’t necessarily have other things close to me that I’d use with enough heart to be of any significance to me

7. Who would play you in a movie about your life?

??? no idea lol I’d love for it to be katherine mcnamara bc 1) we share names, 2) her red hair is gorgeous and I’m a redhead, 3) SHE is gorgeous and I’d love to be portrayed by someone that hot 😍😍😍

8. Most relatable scene from any book/movie/anime/etc.?

yuuri’s little gasp when he first saw victor skating bc HARD SAME MY SWEET SON HARD SAME

9. If you were shrunk down and somehow got stuck in a blender, how would you get out?

I’d jump from side to side of it to try and rock it a bit and see if I can flip it over and get out that way? idk man what is this question lol

10. Would you count manga as a piece of literature? Why or why not?

ofc I would? honestly, some manga have even better storylines than written fiction why WOULDN’T it be counted as a piece of literature

11. compliment yourself. (joey, you’re just to freaking good to at making up questions).

oh man... //sweats umm??? good job me on not breaking down yet bc the renovations keep being awful and you’re handling it well?? maybe lol

tagged by @theexitgarden, thanks love, once more!

RULES: Choose any three fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions, then tag 10 people you want to know better.

Three Fandoms:

Yuri!!! on Ice

Ace of Diamond

Haikyuu!!

The First Character You Loved:

victor. he’s voiced by suwajun, do I really need to say more?

miyuki!! gosh I do love my asshole sons snarky and mean

hinata bc he’s a ray of sunshine and I even named my doggo after him 💕

The Character You Never Expected To Love So Much:

I gotta copy you garden bc chris took me by surprise too! my love for him started from that little sad look he gave us in the kiss and cry and it blossomed beautifully over time ahhh

sanada omg?? he is literally baseball kuroo so I was not expecting it but I fully embraced it lmao

iwaizumi bc I’m not one to like the mothering types but he’s??? actually so kind and sweet under all that harsh Manly facade it’s so cute

The Character You Relate To The Most:

victor, I’d say, or so I like to think

honestly? miyuki. just look at my url lol

oikawa, probably...

The Character You’d Slap:

I wouldn’t actually, but yurio deserves a good kick on the butt

um??? kataoka? bc TF U MEAN U DON’T KNOW WHO THE ACE SHOULD BE WE KNEW IT FROM THE FIRST CHAPTER YOU DUMBASS

early tsukki bc he’s could use it tbqh

Three Favorite Characters (in order of preference):

victor, yuuri, chris

miyuki, eijun, mei

hinata, kuroo, oikawa

A Character You Liked At First, But Don’t Anymore:

no one like that in yoi tbh, my love is only growing

kataoka lol

umm???? idk

A Character You Didn’t Like At First But Do Now:

seung-gil, I’d say. he grew on me lol

raichi, I guess??

to say tsukki, I’d have to actually like him now but it’s more difficult than that bc I didn’t like him at first but now can tolerate him so?? does it count?

Three OTPs:

victuuri, phichimetti, and the third would be very problematic bc I honestly don’t ship anything else in yoi?

miyusawa, chrisawa, sanasawa

KUROHINA YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, oihina, bokuhina

tagged by @sleep-furiously, thanks for the tag, love!!

post five facts about myself ❤

I have a sweet doggo who is the light of my life 💕

I write good shit sometimes

I believe I have good taste

I’m a snark machine when certain buttons are pressed

patience levels run at 0%

wow ok this was A LOT to go through and it took me like 3h to do this holy sheet but at least I had fun and now I have my firefox bookmark free so that’s awesome ahhh!! thanks so much again to everyone for the tags, you guys are amazing and I’m lucky to have you 💕💕💕💕

[jonathan-joestarberry]

How about 1, 6, 7, 8, 9, 12, 13, 21, 22, 25, 30, 31, 32, 33, 35, 40, 43, and 50. I know that's a lot >.>

hallo :D thank u for sending this in

let’s begin! btw, i’m sorry if anything gets personal or may make anyone uncomfortable, ask me to tag later. also, i’m gonna be using one of those “read more” things because this is very long.

1. do u ever wish u were someone else? 

yes. i wish i could be like a dolphin. they always look like they are smiling, no matter what. a baby dolphin’s mom could have been caught by a tuna net, but it still smiles. dolphins are strong.

6. ur opinion about ur body and how comfortable u are with it?

i don’t like it. i have so many stretch marks because my weight has fluctuated a lot. i’m hairy. my chest isn’t perky and feels really heavy. i wanna hide most of the time. i don’t like to be looked at. i used to feel comfortable enough to wear dresses and i wore a lot of makeup, but i now wear loose ts and leggings a lot. i also used to seek validation from others in the worst ways, like posting and sending nudes. i’m sorry if this is negative, but it’s honestly how i feel.

however, i will say it’s not all too bad. my skin is really soft and warm. one time, my little sister and i were walking in sprouts. she comes up behind me and says, “soft!” :D it made me feel good. at least i am soft.

7. do u have any tattoos or piercings?

oh my gosh. i saved up enough for a belly button piercing! i hope to get it this fall. i am of age, but latino parents wouldn’t let that slide. in the fall, it’d be easier to hide since i’ll be in school. i really would love some tattoos! i’d like a dolphin, a bunny (because i loved mine so much), two strawberries, and a bear. i’m going to work later this summer, so hopefully i can get some of them

8. what would u say is ur best quality?

that’s really hard oof. i’m really soft. on the inside and outside. i get hurt really easily, but i also get happy really easily!! and that’s a good thing. i laugh at the dumbest things, but that is good a nosy bitch curious. i want to make a living out of learning.

9. what are u really bad at?

everything. i have really poor self-discipline. and i am a very selfish person.

12. what do u think about the most?

i think about ideas a lot o: i doubt my own faith a lot, so i think about faith and Jesus. i think about sabrina, my little sister, a lot. like if she is doing okay at school, how is she getting along with my parents while i’m away, if she remembers to take care of bemo. i think about jonathan joestar a lot (no joke) and wonder how his heart feels :v like how he could be so forgiving, how he would have felt about his family. and bunnies, and dolphins. i think about people and my research too

13. things u like/dislike about urself:

i like that i am curious. i like that i think a lot. i don’t like that i am selfish, that i am lazy, that i lack self discipline. 

21. do u believe in love at first sight?

yes!! i do :D u don’t have to fall for someone like that, though. love is different for everyone, but i am a sucker for fairy tales.

22. do u believe in soulmates?

yes!! that is such a beautiful thing. my dream is actually to be married to my soulmate one day.

25. would u date someone off the internet?

yes

30. have u ever liked ur best friend?

as in like like them? i have not. 

31. how does someone win ur heart?

um, i’m not sure actually. i’m really inexperienced with this kind of stuff. i guess we talk a lot?

32. what turns u on?

i relate to kira so much. i love hands. hands are my favorite. being taller than me is appealing too, but most people i meet are taller . also, idk why but i really like short hair. long hair is lovely too, but short hair looks so cool!! 

33. what turns u off?

if u are mean and a big smelly. deadass, please wash ur hands and brush ur teeth.

35. what is ur definition of cheating?

ooooh boy howdy. my last relationship actually ended because of cheating. we were ldr and would call often, for as long as we could. but near the end, it was weird. he avoided me, rarely left any messages. it turned out he was talking to someone else ^^’ i believe he even admit to me she would provoke him, “flash” him when they’d video chat, and yeah…

cheating is just being unfaithful. biblically, i committed adultery in my heart when i’d see someone and think “oh wow, they are cute

40. first concert u attended.

i can’t say i have attended one ^^’

43. is there something that happened in ur past that u hate talking about?

kinda, yeah. it was traumatic. i still feel very bad because i can’t bring myself to forgive the offender. for the longest time as a kid, i hated being touched and the grown ups in my family thought i was being cold, but i just didn’t want anyone near me. i felt disgusting, i still feel disgusting. i was really aggressive to others, including my little sister, just because i wanted to be alone so bad. and she is my strength, but even then i was so angry. i was also convinced i could never see men the same way again. i love girls, but i was still uncertain about my sexuality. i found some boys attractive, but felt such fear and hesitation. and for the longest time, i didn’t know why until i went to therapy as a young teen and was told, “this isn’t right.”

i shared a lot, but u get the idea. 

50. what’s ur type?

jonathan joestar and utena in the streets dio in the sheets i’m not sure. i don’t have much experience in that. but i like talking a lot. i don’t usually talk much during the day, so i usually talk a lot in private to get it all out. so, someone i can easily talk to. someone outspoken and interested.

again, thank u! this is a very intimate post, but some of the things here have been kept inside for too long. thank u for giving me the space to vent.