#i get dms and messages asking if I’m single or calling me attractive all the time

[chloe12801]

I was on gtao yesterday and someone phone messaged me “u single?” And I tried to reply “no I’m dating ur mom” but it didn’t let me due to language 🙃

[mountswhore]

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[falloutboywife]

i want to start this off by saying i am infintitely grateful for all the support i've gotten while i was away, and i cannot express enough how much it means to me to know i have so much support during such a frustrating part of my life, even if i'm only showing you guys one part of it. i cannot tell you enough how thankful i am, and i'm going to respond to as many messages as i can tomorrow because this has taken a lot of time and energy for me to write and piece together emotionally

i definitely think the other week when i made that lengthy post about my identity and my place in online spaces may have been a bit of an overreaction, however while i've had some time to think about it on my own i think that just avoiding tumblr outright is causing me to become pretty insular in how i'm perceiving the entire situation, which isn't made any easier for me considering when i ask my friends who've been seeing it unfold what their opinions on it are, their responses have been pretty mixed.

as a whole, i think that being in online fandoms, as an outspoken artist (outspoken in this sense meaning redacted and fat kid fuckery, both shameful and heretical topics few dare to mention), tends to inflate my ego in a way i don't really find desirable. meaning people who are super kind and friendly towards me and who give me a lot of positive attention, while reassuring and definitely welcomed, tends to lean into people admiring me for reasons i don't really understand, and this can also end up trapping me into a certain role to fulfill in a community because of the kind of attention i tend to reward and validate, i.e. fat kid fuckery in my dms, which leads to the expectation of me being this sort of bastion of hornyposting where all evil (affectionate) thoughts are encouraged and endorsed.

on the other end of the spectrum, and if you know what i'm talking about then you know, i tend to attract a lot of negativity from people i've never interacted with or had any intention of interacting with, and this has been an issue for me pretty much the entire time i've used social media (me adding hornyposting as a facet to my personality is really recent, like i only started doing this late 2017 and i'm really tired of it by now but. again. it's what people expect of me, more on that later), and i'm not entirely sure how to make it stop. granted, when i was a lot younger, i was genuinely an asshole, but i want to stress a very important thing i think very few of my followers on here are aware of

i'm 28 and only just now aware of the fact that i'm autistic, and i was misdiagnosed with bipolar when i was 13 and because none of the treatment or therapy worked, i always thought there was something really wrong with me, so i couldn't actually learn how to cope with a lot of my problems in a productive way until recently. so yeah, i was a jackass when i was younger, and i can be a jackass in private sometimes when i'm under a lot of stress, but having this realization about myself is really helping me a lot on its own

and being autistic, people can think i'm annoying or obnoxious or irritating and that, juxtaposed with content or opinions they might personally disagree with, can make people very angry just inherently. i've spoken with my friends about how i can't seem to shake off any drama that i really, really have nothing to do with or any interest in, and the only ones who could really relate were other autistic people. my own friend actually told me that she thinks this is something i'm just going to have to struggle with my entire life, because even if it's not being horny or advocating for sexual positivty, i'm ALWAYS doing something that will piss someone off

(quick disclaimer: i know some of you are probably going to try to engage in bad faith arguments with me saying that i'm calling all my haters ableist, and if anyone tries to insinuate that this is the conclusion i'm coming to, i'm not only ignoring your ask but blocking you as well. i'm also not answering any asks trying to insinuate that i "need help" simply because of the type of fiction i enjoy, when the issue was HOW i was engaging with it, which i think i have made exceedingly clear.)

i think it's funny that me clearly being into waycest and clearly being into babystump is lost on people to the point where they feel they need to make callout posts "warning" people about the fact that i'm...openly and unabashedly interested in this shit, but the very second i say "actually i'm asexual but i'm glad you guys are so sexually open about yourselves and your interests" i lost more followers than any active campaign trying to cancel me, which is exactly what i fucking mean when i say this is what people expect of me

so i can't really make anyone happy in the current environment i've curated for myself because it is expected of me to maintain this personality and continue engaging in this nature of content regardless of my own personal feelings on the matter, because if i want to break free from it then i risk pissing people off. i also can't just act how i want or make the kind of jokes that i want or enjoy the kind of things i want anyway because simply by having a mental disability that effects how i engage with people socially, i am risking ostracizing myself by pissing the wrong people off and ultimately making things a lot worse than they otherwise would be

however. However. even if this is exactly how i feel, this isn't entirely a situation that is exclusive to this current blog, and when i said in the beginning i was taking this too seriously, i still mean that, and i think that my own personal problems with being in online fandoms stem from external factors that have nothing to do with this website. i'm almost 30 and a lot of my life this past decade has been very stagnant due to severe depression, with no real progress towards furthering my life in any meaningful way, and i think that what i was really frustrated with when i made that post was this very factor. in conjunction with this, i use online spaces a way to try to find an open and accepting community of people i can befriend and be myself in, because my undiagnosed autism has historically made it difficult for me to really socialize with people in a productive way that didn't make me feel like an outcast. i think a combination of the fact that online spaces are becoming increasingly more difficult for me to adapt to, as well as incresingly unfulfilling, adding to the lack of fulfillment in the rest of my life, was the subconscious realization i came to when i decided to make that post and take a break from tumblr for a bit. i'm frustrated that i have no fulfillment in my life, and i can no longer find it in online spaces that i used to enjoy and find so much meaning in

this being said, i'm actually doing shit with my life at long last. i'm enrolled in classes for an english degree, and i'm going to subsequently get an associates in creative writing that i'll be able to complete in a single semester after the fact, leaving me with two whole degrees under my belt that i can use in developing my future in the literary world. i'm taking my art more seriously as well, although i only post my bandom and lotr drawings on here, and i'm thinking of making an instagram account to start posting my art on there as well, as a sort of portfolio. i'm sick of this ongoing feeling of there being no meaning in my life, and i'm sick of feeling like i'm just wasting away and putting my mind to no use, and the immense joy i got just from seeing my class schedule for the fall semester made me realize that i am an intellectual, i'm an academic, and i'm in love with media and literary studies and this is what i find meaning in. this shit makes me so fucking happy and when i finished the picture of dorian gray the other day i IMMEDIATELY went on a tirade about its themes and symbolism just to myself and that, alone, was so fucking rewarding. i've been watching movies with my friend sweaterangst and just describing the themes of the horror used in the fucking texas chainsaw massacre movies made me feel so fulfilled even if he might have barely been listening LMAO i find meaning in seeking out complex and thought-provoking pieces of work and i

absolutely

am not getting that being on tumblr and talking about how i'm gonna let the fat kid deepfry me at the state fair (affectionate) (delusional) (severe)

with that being said, yes, i'm still asexual and i don't get fulfillment from purely sexual discussion, but i think i'm still gonna be answering asks about the sexy stuff so long as i find it engaging to a degree. i'm gonna start trying to use the guys you say as creative writing exercises because in the beginning that's what the fucking smut started as LMAO but i lost the plot a while ago and just let myself stagnate, like i said. i'm still gonna blog about bandom stuff but now that i have no reason to treat social media like it's all i have, and now that i'm breaking out of my depressed state in more meaningful ways, i think i'm gonna start blogging about a lot more things too and try to start having fun on this site again.

five nights at fat kid's is back, baby

[ingravinoveritas]

I happen to be in the Twitter fan community and I love the people there so much 💕 but there's sometimes when they go too far.. Like the sexualizing. It's kinda clear Micheal SEES what we're up to and what we post. But he has been rather quiet lately.. ever since the pricklyjen situation. With nothing too focus on, the jokes are going a little too far and it's really uncomfortable how the twitter community justifies the sexualizing of him recently.. (boredom and lust) what do YOU think?

Oh, Anon. I’m not sure what made you ask me this, but I do have many thoughts about the situation, and I’m going to do my very best to answer.

First let me say that I’m so glad you’ve found a community of fans that means so much to you! I know what it’s like to become a fan of someone or something and find that little group of people you just connect and bond with in a way you never expected. I myself am peripherally aware of the Twitter fan community, insofar as I know of it, but I am not part of it, as I’m far more active here on Tumblr instead.

I do know the current situation to which you are referring, however, and I’ve seen some of the posts and comments that have been made. I actually went through a situation recently that I think speaks to some of what is happening, so I’d like to share that now.

A few days ago, I did a second episode of a livestream that I’ve started since quarantine began, to continue the work that I had been doing pre-quarantine, which is educating people about autism and sexuality. Afterward, I received a DM on Instagram from a man claiming to be autistic. He wanted to ask a question about sexuality, and of course, I said yes. At 8:30am the next morning, this man attempted to video call me no less than ten times. These calls were accompanied by sexually explicit DMs from him, which only became more inappropriate, and I finally ended up blocking him.

I am fully willing to acknowledge that I put myself out there, as a (somewhat) public figure, talking about sex and relationships, and I accept responsibility for what comes with that. But even though I made myself available, I do have boundaries, and I did not deserve to have those boundaries so egregiously violated. Just because someone is accessible, it does not mean you have the right to harass them.

Let me say that again: Just because someone is accessible, it does not mean you have the right to harass them.

We tend to have a narrow view of what “harassment” is, or think that it’s just saying mean or disrespectful things. But to me, harassment is about what it does to the person receiving it, and the way it makes them feel. What upset and scared me most about the man on Instagram wasn’t the messages, but the phone calls. What upset me was him deciding that he wanted my attention, that I owed him attention, and that he was willing to go to any ends to get my attention, completely disregarding my feelings and the increasing anxiety that I felt when my phone kept ringing...again and again and again. 

What upset me was feeling like I couldn’t escape. There are things that Michael has made public, and to which he has brought deliberate attention and is clearly comfortable talking about: His work as an actor, his kindness and dedication as a social activist, and his unending thirst for David Tennant--all of which are pretty much the exact reasons I’m following him on Twitter. But what about the things Michael hasn’t made public? The things he doesn’t talk about? His personal life. His body, except to make self-deprecating jabs about his own appearance. Yet these are two topics on which the Twitter fans seem to comment most, and in incredibly lurid detail.

What started off as fans sexualizing him has gone beyond that to something else: Objectifying. Reducing Michael to parts of his body (and in strangely demeaning terms, like “tiddies”), and the attraction that they have to him. “Well, how could he have a problem with it? We’re just showing him how much we love him! We’re saying NICE things!“ I can hear fans incredulously asking. But being nice is not the same thing as being respectful. If Michael is tagged in posts or comments are made purposely to be seen by him or his phone is ringing with notifications from fans who “love” him again and again and again...then he can’t escape it, either.

I wonder how that makes him feel. I know how it made me feel.

The situation with Michael is obviously not entirely equivalent to my own. I do not think anyone intends to harass him. But I believe some fans have gotten to the point where the focus has stopped being on Michael. Where it’s not about him anymore, but who they think he is, and what he makes them feel. I know how easy it is to think that this is what he wants, that because he’s feral and unpredictable and flirty, that it’s okay. But even if the comments fans are making are “positive,” they are still unsolicited. I never said or did a single thing to indicate that I wanted to be subjected to the comments I received...and I don’t think Michael has either, despite what some fans might believe. Again, I’m by no means against lusting after Michael--god knows I’ve done it plenty on this blog--or expressing that lust in a healthy way. We know that Michael lurks, and if he wants to find fics written about him or art or memes, he absolutely will. But that doesn’t make it okay to force it on him, or to demand his attention when he has made it clear (in so many or so few words) that there is a line, and it’s not okay to cross it. Though if he continues to be as quiet as he has been, then maybe--just maybe--someone already has. So those are my thoughts on the situation, Anon. I hope this has been helpful to you and anyone else who’s been dealing with what is happening in the Twittersphere. Sending lots of love and good vibes to you, Michael, and all the fans out there. Thank you for writing in!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 6: The Walking Dead

Deep down we all know our lives can change in an instant. We all hope it will change for the better. We hope that we’ll find that dream job. That girl we’ve been searching for will show up, smile at us, and agree that she’s was searching for us too. That some prince will come and whisk us away from our problems.

We also know that things can change for the worse. In that same instant, our lives can be taken, as if by some strange magic, and everything we’ve been working for crumbles to dust. All we can do is pick up the pieces, start over again, and be grateful we survived.

When I woke up at the hospital, I couldn’t talk about what happened. Nono, at my bedside, tried to get me to say something about it, but my mind could not form the words to describe the chaos I remembered. If I focused on the memories too much, they overwhelmed me the way the strongest emotions do. They were pure sensation, coming over me faster than my intellect's ability to register them. 

There were details, focal points that my mind latched on to after the world went blurry.

The shocked look of a young man’s face when he realized he was going to die the instant before he did. The pulsating waves that were visible when blood oozed from a severed artery. The life and death struggle of a living person between my hands. Despite the clarity of these memories - or maybe because of it - their horrific nature stunned me into speechlessness.

When Nono was unable to get me to answer her questions, she said, “I think we need to get you some help.” She stood up and left me alone in the room.

I laid on my side picking at the thin threads of the soft pillow case. When the door creaked open and footsteps approached, I didn’t turn to look.

“I am Doctor Toyama.” A gentle male voice greeted me.

When he didn’t say anything more, I turned my head to see if he was still there. He had light brown eyes in a young face and a thin well manicured goatee that traced around his upper lip and chin. He wore a lab coat with a tag hanging from his pocket as an identifier. He held a notebook and pen.

That much acknowledgement of his existence was enough to make him smile. “I have a few questions for you. You don’t have to say much about this incident. The College is well aware of many details about Isaac and his… activities here. It’s unfortunate that it had to end up this way.”

He pulled up a chair and sat next to my bed. I averted my eyes from him as he continued to speak. “You’re probably blaming yourself for what happened. I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t your fault.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond. “People here all have a certain percentage of dragon DNA. The higher the percentage the stronger they are. But there is a cost.” He kept his tone soft and clear.

“If someone’s percentage of dragon DNA is too high, it begins to overwrite the human. It grows, much like a cancer and they cease to be recognizable as a human. They turn into what we call a death servitor. That is what happened to Isaac.”

“It happened to Isaac because of what I did though,” I whispered. My throat squeezed shut. My lip trembled. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t return his gaze.

“Oh? How so?”

I chewed my lip and pressed my face into the pillow.

“I’d really like to know. There are surveillance cameras in the library. As far as we can tell after watching the footage, you walked into a conference room together. The rest is hard to make out but it’s clear you disappear. You went…” He let the sentence hang.

“I wanted to see my family.” I said shakily. Tears wet the pillowcase around my eyes.

“Why? You were only here a day. You miss them already?”

I nodded.

“Hmm…” I hear his pen click. “Did you inform one of your class advisors?.”

“Yeah. He told me that… I couldn’t see my family because the rules said I had to stay on campus… I couldn’t even call them.”

“Ah… I see. You’re very close to them then?”

“Mhm…”

“You must be  if you were willing to follow a stranger into the dark on the off chance you might get to see them. Tell me, what do you plan to say to them?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Everything here is secret… right?” I peeked up from the pillow.

“That’s right.” He's writing in his notebook.

“Well, I’d … tell him that there’s a lot of boys here. And they make me nervous.”

He stroked his goatee. “Ah… I see. What else?”

“Everything is really extravagant… and I don’t think I’ll fit in. And that I failed my first exam.” Now that I’m looking at him, he offered me a tissue box. I sat up to accept it.

“Very good.” He made a few more notes  “I’ll submit this to the board members and see if they can make a bit of an exception for some forms of communication. It’s… rare we get people like you. Who actually come from loving non-hybrid homes.”

He clicked his pen and put it back into his breast pocket. “But since you still have so much to say to them, that means you didn’t go back to your home, did you? Where did you go?”

“I don’t know where it was. There were others too. They were dressed in Japanese clothes. So maybe Japan?” I blew my nose.

“Japan? Hm…” He made a note. “That’s … odd. Why do you think he would take you there?”

“Maybe that’s where his family lives?” I looked to him for confirmation of my guess.

“His family? I thought you were going to meet yours?” He raised his eyebrows.

I explained.  “He said I shouldn’t have failed my test. He said he wanted to test me… before I went home.”

“There was no way you could have known what that meant.” He told me. “You must have … fought hard to escape.” He looked at me expecting me to fill in the blank, but I fell into an abrupt silence. My eyes were downcast. My fingers kneaded at the pillow case.

“Alright…” He said quietly. “What’s one thing you can tell me. Just one.”

My continued silence stretched on.

“Just one thing? I promise, I won’t ask any more questions.”

I didn’t reply but Doctor Toyama continued to sit and wait. My mind remembered, indexed and sorted what happened into a large pile of secrets. There was one memory that I felt comfortable revealing.

“He saved my life. I would’ve died. But when he held me, my wound healed. He brought me back before he turned into that monster.”

He watched me wipe away tears, keeping his expression neutral. “I see. Thank you.” He made another note. “I’ll leave you now. Feel free to contact me any time.” He left his card on the table next to my phone.

After he was gone, I examined the card. His title was Campus Psychologist. My phone lit up, attracting my attention. It displayed an overwhelming number of notifications. I ignored them in favor of visiting my social media page.

At the top of the feed, the official administrators had pinned a message.

This page is now restricted, only those with access may view it. If you have questions about the restriction or feel you’ve been blocked in error, keep it to yourself because you haven’t been.

Below that stretched a long string of posts by other Cassell students.

“How does one kill a servitor in a single hit?”

“Well, this new student is promising. Anyone get her number?”

“Wish she’d left some of that fight to me.”

“How can I date her please.”

“DMs are blocked :(“

“Anyone have her phone number? What about email?”

“How do you even get that strong?!”

“10/10 would watch again.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to talk to or meet any of these people.

In my notifications, I found a text from Nono. “Hey, hope you’re feeling better. You’ll be getting a message from the Principal soon. Don’t be nervous, just do your best. If you need me, just call me alright? Please, if you want to talk, don’t hesitate to call me. I know you miss your family, but you can’t go back to them right now. Not without talking to him.”

The phone sang its jaunty ringtone. The caller ID was just ‘EVA’. “Hello?”

Her voice was cheerful but her words were to the point. “You passed your E3 exam with a high level of resonance with a draconic cipher. This along with your unique dragon ancestry puts you at Rank S.”

“What do you mean I passed? I didn’t write anything?”

“Most record their ciphers. In your case, this was not the correct medium. Determining your ability will take further research. Therefore, we are admitting you. Welcome to Cassell College. I’m EVA, the school AI butler. Let me know if you need help or have questions."

“AI…? A computer…?” I stammered but couldn’t form a complete sentence so she continued.

“Your meeting with Principal Anjou is in half an hour. I’ve sent Mingfei Lu to guide you there. Your uniform is there in your room. Please dress and get ready to meet him. Don’t worry. He’s very nice.”

“Wait! Who is…?”

The phone beeped to tell me there was no longer anyone on the other end. I returned it to the nightstand and slid my legs over the edge of the bed to get up. I found my purple and black uniform on a hanger in the open closet across the hospital room.

When I put the uniform on, I examined myself in the room’s bathroom mirror.  The open collar displayed my pendant over my collarbones. I turned my back to see if there was any sign of where that man had knifed me. There wasn’t.  My heart began to pound as I remembered the spear of light impaling my attacker, how his jaw dropped open in shock. I started to wonder how much of that really happened, hoping some of it was a dream.

A knock on the hospital room door frightened me so badly I stumbled backwards into the wall. Trembling, I peeked outside the bathroom to see a gangly young man with brown doe-like eyes and a mop of messy brown hair.  He gives me a cheerful wave. “You must be the newbie!”

He slowly lowered his hand when I didn’t echo his enthusiasm.  “Don’t be shy! I don’t bite! I promise!” He gave a little nervous laugh. “I’m not good at this…” He mumbled.

“Good at what?” I asked him.

His eyes snapped back to mine. “Huh? What? D...did I say that outloud?” He looked at me for confirmation so I nodded. “Sorry. Um. So, You can just call me Lu. I’ve been here for a little less than a year.”

His shoulders sagged at my silence, “So…” He steeled himself, forcibly perking himself up. “My roommate happens to run the gossip column at school. He told me what happened. It was pretty incredible. Where’d you learn to do that?”

I closed the door again, wondering if he was one of the people who posted on my feed. I leaned against it, glaring at the ground. “I wouldn’t say it was ‘incredible’.”

His voice sounded from the other side. “I know it's hard but I can help you. I… I know what it’s like okay? Just bear with it. You’ll do fine!”

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open. “Sorry…” I whispered.

“You’re fine okay?” He said, peering through the small space, his voice trembling with nervous laughter. “We just need to get you to the principal’s office. You don’t have to do anything. Oh and don’t forget to grab your coat. It’s pretty windy out there.”

As we walked down the campus paths, Lu kept glancing down at me like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. “So… what’s your name?”

I felt a chill run down my spine, recalling the results of using my childhood name. “I don’t like my name.”

“Oh… then… what do you prefer to be called? I feel bad just calling you, newbie.” More nervous laughter.

“Newbie is fine.” I told him. “But if there’s a name you like, just call me that.”

His nervousness turned to surprised dismay. “What? I can’t just call you whatever I want! What if someone else calls you something different?”

The corners of my mouth turned down. “You’re Mingfei Lu, right? You said, just call me Lu. Does everyone call you Lu?”

“Ah… good point.” He rubs his chin in thought. “But… What if I call you something you don’t like?”

I chuckled. “Then I’ll tell you. Like I said I didn’t mind, ‘newbie’.”

He rubbed the back of his neck but didn’t continue to object.

The administration building grew larger into view, fronted by a stone staircase. People hurried up and down, anxious to get out of the cold.

Once inside, Lu led me to the main office. We paused at the wooden door carved with the word ‘Principal’. Lu knocked before going in. Like most things at Cassell, the principal's office was larger than it needed to be. It was fancy, with black mirror tiles and a sleek glossy desk. Behind it sat Anjou who greeted me with a sympathetic grin. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. That man fooled me into coming here and denied me access to my family. This was all his fault.

Johann and Caesar stood in front of the desk. Johann crosses his arms at my dour expression.

Caesar was bemused at my silent snarling. “It’s good to see you up and healthy. We are all grateful you made out alive.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I mumbled, my shoulders rising to my ears.

Johann's soft voice echoed in the roomy interior. “That’s Mingfei, he’s our other S-ranked student.”

“You’re S-ranked too?” I turned to him in shock.

Mingfei Lu held up his hands in self-defense.“ Don’t look at me like that! I’m just ranked as S! I don’t actually have any abilities at all.”

Anjou stood up from behind his desk, as tall as I remembered, smoking a cigar. He paced, massaging his beard as he began. “Now that we’re all here. We can start the mission briefing.”

My eyes lifted at the word ‘mission’, glancing at the others.

“Our intelligence is reporting the signal of a dragon embryo off the coast of Japan. This signal may be what we have been dreading. Analysis indicates that it is the signal of a first generation dragon lord. So we’re sending you as a team to meet with the Cassell College Japan division.”  

He took a drag of the cigar and let it out slowly. “This mission is Grade SS. We will need all of you."

My hand tentatively rose but he ignored me and continued.

“Our Japan branch is very secretive. This situation calls for the utmost discretion and sensitivity. However, I have maintained contact with Masamune Tachibana. He welcomes our assistance. Please, view this as a stepping stone for bringing our branches into closer cooperation.”

Filling with dread, I recalled Isaac’s Japanese companions and wondered if there was some connection to what I had done.

“Caesar, you’ll be the one leading on this mission.” Anjou nodded to him.

Caesar opened his mouth to speak but Johann responded. “Of course, that’s for the best.”

Caesar scowled at him. “Don’t steal my lines!” He cleared his throat. “We’ll complete the mission in no time at all, Principal Anjou! With time to do some souvenir shopping!” The blue-eyed hybrid waved a hand at me and flashed a smile, “In fact, I’d like to outfit you in the finest silk kimonos…”

“If that’s what you want to do.” I replied, reluctantly smiling back.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “This is your first mission as part of our team! That’s surely something to celebrate.”

“Wait… I'm going?" My smile turned to confusion. Somehow, I’d passed my E3 without writing anything. I killed my fellow students the night before. Now, he assigned me to work with top students and sent me to Japan.

While I struggled to grasp my new reality, silent seconds ticked by. Johann cleared his throat. Caesar glared at him. “You have something to say?”

Johann returned his gaze with a calm expression. “Nothing at all.”

“If you have something to say, you should say it!”. Caesar turned to fully face him.

Johann looked at me instead. “I promised you I would show you a frozen dragon specimen. But now you’ll be seeing the real thing.”

“When was this?” Caesar demanded of him. "Don't ignore me, Johann Chu!"

I looked between them both, baffled at Caesar’s sudden aggression. Lu hid his face behind his hand in embarrassment.

Anjou puffed on his cigar chuckling. “I have to interrupt.” He addressed me next. “My dear, your performance in the library tells me that you qualify for this dangerous mission.”

I frowned at his use of the word performance. “But I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, my voice trailing off.

He turned to the others. “I’d like to have a private word with our new student.”

As they walked out, Caesar continued to menace an unflappable Johann. “Keep in mind that it was Nono and I there at her arrival here…”

Lu followed them, glancing over his shoulder at me in worry before he was forced to jog after them to catch up.

Anjou sat down and gestured to a chair for me.

“You know,” he said. “Of all the recruits, you have outstanding resilience. You come to my office after everything you’ve been through.  After you hear that I’m sending you on a dangerous mission after this incident, you don’t immediately object.”

“Do I actually have a choice in any of this? You’re just throwing things at me and I’m trying to just survive here!” My voice shook. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

He settled his cigar down on a silver ashtray. “Your talent is a Class S… the strongest kind. But it is extremely unstable. The injection Johann gave you is a temporary experimental measure. I’m hoping that the Japan Division might be hiding research that can aid us in preventing you from turning into a monster like Isaac.”

“What are you talking about?” My voice lowered to a whimper.

His uncharacteristic seriousness lent weight to his words. “What happened to Isaac could just as easily happen to you. I am committed to preventing that. You’re here to today because of that effort. Had you turned servitor after the injection, we would have had no choice but to eliminate you. You did not. So there is still hope.” He said this frankly, looking into my eyes. His expression turned grim. “I cannot keep you here against your will. I can only tell you the truth. Your chances of survival are slim outside of Cassell College.”

My self-protective sense of humor faltered and I found my desire to contact Robbie lessened. If this was to be my fate, then it would be better that he never saw me again. “And if there’s no cure?” I asked quietly.

“Let’s take courage and hope. We’re working on it.” His positivity returned.  “You remind me so much of my friend Manecke. When I look at you…” He took another puff.  “I see brilliance. Something will come up.”

My throat started to close and my eyes burned.  “Can I go?”

He nodded. I stood up and rushed out of the office.

Lu was waiting for me, but I pushed by him before he could say a word.

I managed to make it back to my apartment before I gave in to the shattering grief inside. My shadow twin appeared, kneeling next to me. She tried to catch my tears but they fell through her hand to the carpet. I wished I had never accepted the offer to come to Cassell. But if I hadn’t accepted, who knew what might have happened? Had I blissfully gone through life, I might have suddenly turned into a beast. I imagined myself as a ballerina, graceful and elegant, only to morph into a horrible monster a few years into my career. Maybe even on stage. It would have been awful.

My emotions began to subside and I picked myself up off the floor. Packing for the trip wasn’t difficult. Most of my things were still in my suitcase. As I went through my belongings, I wondered what I wanted to wear on my last few days on Earth. ‘Whatever felt comfortable on a plane’ won out.

I wrote in my school notebook what I wanted people to find after I was gone. I confessed that I hadn’t just killed Isaac, but possibly six or seven other people. I was a waste of everyone’s time and effort, especially Robbie and Mom’s.

My phone buzzed. Nono was trying to talk to me but I didn’t want to anymore. It was better if she forgot I ever existed. I turned the phone off.

My heart beat fast all the rest of the day and into the night.  I spent most of that night pacing around my apartment. The racing pulse made it impossible to sleep and robbed me of my appetite in the morning.

The next morning while I was turning out the lights and getting ready to meet the others to go to the airport, someone knocked on my door.

I opened to Nono, her crimson eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t take it lightly when someone ignores my messages. Especially someone I’ve tried to be nice to.”

My shoulders lowered and I sighed. “Nono, I…”

She cut me off. “No, you need to listen to me. I know what happened was hard. Maybe even harder than most. But you have got to pull yourself together.”

“Life as a hybrid will never be fair or easy. Not one of us has had an easy and happy life. You’re one of us now. So buck up and do what needs to be done!”

I shrunk under her stare, swallowing hard.

“You’re going on a dangerous mission with Caesar and the others. And I can’t have you getting into a funk, slipping up and then someone else dies because of it.”

When I stood silently she took a step forward, her voice rising. “Do you understand? Do what you have to do to stop moping. If something happens to Caesar, I won’t forgive you.”

“Yes ma’am.” I whispered.

She turned, her heels clicking against the tile as she departed.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Go back to the Beginning

[sophiemi]

A Response to Hate + Wisdom, I Suggest Everyone Reads.

This is a pretty long post replying to some hate I got from a recent post I made about Mirajane Strauss and Laxus Dreyar, I linked it at the bottom of this if you would like to read it. I think everyone should read this post not only because its some piping hot tea, but there’s also a lot of other things I talk about in this that I feel like everyone should hear. Totally understand if you don’t want to read it though. Let me know what you think!  

First here is what they/you said (in order):

Hi I just liked to start with I blocked you from send me anymore ask, but I’m letting you know if you change devices you can still ask me things or messages, if you DM (off anon) ill take your request seriously, but since you’re on anon I’m not gonna take you seriously, sorry. Especially after you were actually mean to me when I did nothing wrong, which is why I’m making this post even though I’d normally ignore it.

Lets start with the general Miraxus stuff, that post WAS NOT hate. You have to be delusional and overly obsessed to believe that was a hate post, or that I was spreading “false information.” In the post I literally said they had good development and linked a master list of ALL their interactions. The entire post was about how even though I don’t ACTIVELY ship them (meaning they are cute and I agree they would be a good couple, but I just don’t get that feeling where I’m like “oh okay yes them” and I feel the need to stalk them, ((not everyone hates what threatens their ships)), and I’m not denying they are very cute, and have a lot of cute art and moments, it just doesn’t hype me up the same way other ships do.) So, this post was pro-miraxus, I’m literally saying they honestly deserved to become canon/canon-ish like a lot of the other ships did, so it was not “cross tagged” the post was about mira and laxus and thats what I tagged it, if you are talking about the part where i tagged “#I feel sorry for anyone who ships miraxus” that is literally me validating anyone hurt over the ending.  Again, I’m not following the Miraxus tag or any account solely dedicated to that ship so I didn’t even know he drew a kid or them, that’s super cool, good for you. I wasn’t being “biased” because I’m not neck deep in any ship for Laxus or Mira, yes i think CanaJane is cute but I know its very unrealistic, this is why I was able to form this opinion that they deserved better. The post was about how Mashima baited Miraxus the entire series, then said “Never!!!!” even if it was Lucy’s inner thoughts, Mashima knew what he was doing. I was saying, “wow that probably sucked if you really liked them! I’m sorry!” If you believe my post was to degrade Mira x Laxus and hype Cana x Mira, then you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself, I understand you are probably like 13-14 but that’s still not okay to attack people because they don’t agree with you, and if you are older that 13 or 14 that’s just embarrassing. I also believe that Freed x Laxus deserved a better ending and I also don’t actively ship that either, Freed spent the whole series wanting to protect and be by the side of Laxus and they had no interaction in the finale.

 Next, lets go to the part about you saying I’m a “slash fetishizer shipper” (also i literally had to look up what this meant) I can only assume you canajane because i said they “hit different” right? Let me just re insert what you said to make sure I reply correctly

Yes I think Cana and Mira are very attractive, and I think they are hot together too. Hi i’m into girls. I am the woke points. I agree people make lgbt people into a fetish and don’t actually respect them, but that’s mostly males thinking lesbians are hot while being gross out by gay men, I may be naive but you don’t often see that on anime tumblr where half the people are gay anyway, not to mention most are female. This next part may be controversial I’m not sure, but people don’t need a reason to ship characters and no one can tell them who they can and can’t ship (this does not apply to shipping a child with an adult), so you can’t say only gay people can ship to people of the same gender, sorry that’s not how it works, i understand you’re trying to get those “woke points” but you just look like a fool. But then next you said this:

Actual author content? Oh you mean like the post I linked that showed EVERY SINGLE interaction/moment/hints that Miraxus had? Like I said, they had good development, and my post was about how the AUTHOR should’ve given them a better ending. I’d just like to add there are many moments that the AUTHOR wrote between Cana and Mira that made me ship them, if the AUTHOR never wrote anything to where they interacted, I wouldn’t ship them?  This post is not about that though so I’m not gonna go anymore into them. 

“false information” girl what? where? I’m genuinely curious, I used screenshots of the manga to present to idea that Miraxus deserved better and that’s all I talked about so I’m confused what you been by this:

So I can tell you took the one line where i said I like CanaJane more than Miraxus and in your mind twisted my entire PRO-miraxus argument into and anti post, this kind of behavior is toxic, and “its not a good look sir” 

Let also clarify something, cross tagging is posting about something and tagging things completely unrelated, this post was about mira and laxus and thats what it was tagged about. Cross tagging is often used in shipping wars, but my post was pro-miraxus so it makes no sense for you to repeatedly say I was cross tagging and that’s why you were mad, it’s very clear you were just mad because I said I shipped CanaJane and that clouded your judgement when reading everything else. If you wanna see real cross tagging look up any naruto ship and scroll for about 3 seconds. So, no I won’t be removing the tags because that makes no sense, but if it’s important enough for you to message me off anon then we’ll talk.

My final section of this response is how hypocritical you were. Like with he part, “I don’t hate you” To quote tiktok and nicki minaj, “don’t be tryna double back, I already despise you” 

As you can see you repeatedly said I was mean, but no where in my post did I say anything like “Mira x Laxus is gross, its toxic, its dumb, its...idk...forced!”, i literally never said anything like that because like I’ve said in this post and in that one, they’re cute and they had good development. You were the mean one in your response telling me i had “no reading skills whatsoever”, that i had a “lack of respect”,  said I’m “more than pitiful” and this isn’t mentioning all of your back handed pettiness throughout every single message you sent, you think you “look cool” but “hun”...”sweetie”...you just look dumb, but at least you are on anon!

Educate myself? girl this isn’t politics, you’re pressed over a post saying your ship deserved better than it got??? What am I supposed to do watch the anime, read the manga, well good thing I did. GUESS WHAT THEY HAD GOOD DEVELOPMENT i can see why you ship them. 

The only rude person here is you, you came into my asks and attacked me because you were blinded for reasons I can’t figure out, and you hid behind the anonymous setting which clearly means you don’t care that much about Miraxus, you just wanted to be mean. 

If you’re reading this, and you sent me the messages, message me off anonymous, then we can realistically talk about me taking off my so called cross tagging, I really don’t care that much, I’m just baffled you had to audacity to come for me so hard then “nicely” ask me to remove the tags. 

If you’re reading this and you didn’t send me these messages, thanks for reading, maybe share this so people understand that this behavior is not okay. I know what I got was mostly just petty ranting, but there are people who send way worse to others and its just not okay. Just because these aren’t are real accounts like these are fandom accounts doesn’t make it okay. Thanks! 

Here is the post in reference:

https://emillyjacksonn.tumblr.com/post/617804123843280896/miraxus-shippers-really-got-played

[mcwriting]

starstruck (1)

Before anyone says ANYTHING, this is absolutely 100% no doubt about it inspired by @insane-less “Not a fan” because I absolutely loved the chapters that were written and Starstruck is one my favorite standalone DCOMs. Standalone, of course, meaning a film with no sequels and not based off a TV show.

There will obviously be some similarities to not a fan just because they’re based off of the same film, but I’m trying to keep it pretty original. I haven’t read not a fan in a while and did not while I was writing this to keep it authentic, though I did read over the starstruck plot a little bit.

Going to be multi part. I realized about halfway through writing that it was almost 4k words and I hate reading things that long in one sitting, plus I still have to finish it lol. As of now, it is half-written so this should be a quick release story. AND I’ll actually try to finish it (unlike a flight to remember rip)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

                                               Important info:

Fandom: Tommo Holland 

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2185 (oof)

Warnings: some “bad” words. Very mild. Mention of an injury.

Rating: K+ now, maybe T later. Haven’t decided.

Background: um well it’s based on Starstruck (2010) and it's a Tom holland fic so yeah. 

B/f/n: your best friend’s name 

                              __________________________________

“I’m not going with you to see Tom Holland, and that’s final!” You exclaim to your annoyingly persistent best friend.

“Come on, y/n! I mean, what can you even have against him?” She pleads.

“Well for starters he looks like he’s 12, he’s not that good at acting, and he just rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know how to explain it,” you state.

“Uh first, he’s 22 and absolutely gorgeous, second, when have you even seen one of his movies, and third, he’s a great guy! Not to mention he’s a trained dancer like you!”

“Just because he happens to dance doesn’t mean I’m gonna suddenly fall in love with him. Plus, how do you know I’m not going out tomorrow?”

“Y/n, there’s literally no way you’re going out because I’m the only person you go to parties with,” b/f/n said.

“Okay fine, but give me one good, solid reason I should even consider going to this Spider-Man premiere,” you say, arms folded.

“Well it’s not like Tom’s the only star that’ll be there,” she explained, “Zendaya will be walking, too.”

You perked up a little bit and b/f/n waggled her eyebrows at you.

“Fine, I’ll go. But only for Zendaya.”

                             __________________________________

“B/f/n it’s like a million degrees out here!” you complained. Even though you wore the shortest shorts you owned and pulled back your hair, the LA heat on top of the millions of teenage girls squished up around you was making you uncomfortable.

The two of you had been able to get there early enough to be right in the front at the barriers, giving you a clear view of the action.

ugh.

While your friend rambled on about Tom and the movie and her excitement, you pulled out your phone and mumbled, “Tell me when Zendaya comes out here.”

You had tons of DM’s on instagram, solely from the fact that b/f/n had posted a video on her story (where you tastefully lowered your sunglasses at the camera before flipping it off) and people couldn’t help but comment how “lucky” you were and how you should be “excited.”

Finally, the time came where the cast and crew began walking, and you stood apathetically, only cheering and taking pictures when Zendaya came out. You even put your sunglasses on top of your head to see her in the plain light.

After her colleagues came to the theatre, a gorgeous Audi E-tron concept convertible came down the road slowly, cheers picking up as you realized that Tom Holland was riding in the back with a blonde guy you indicated to be named Harrison from b/f/n’s screaming. 

Seeing his features in person, you were still… underwhelmed. Sure you could see why people thought he was attractive, but he was just another guy. You didn’t cheer as he came up, waving to the crowd.

He turned to your side to wave when his eyes met yours. Undoubtedly, his smile faltered for a second before picking back up again, brighter than before. You leaned into your best friend and asked,

“Did you see that?” in an almost offended tone. Who was he to look at you like that? The only reply you received was more screaming and “HE LOOKED OVER HERE CAN YOU BELIEVE!!?!” to which you rolled your eyes.

He eyes met yours again and you looked away, annoyed that he seemed to be singling you out of all the people there.

After exiting the car, he ran down the line shaking hands and taking a few pictures. Next thing you knew, he was taking b/f/n’s phone to have a selfie. She threw an arm around your shoulder and exclaimed,

“Get in, y/n!”

You subconsciously smiled and with that he headed towards his cast, saying,

“Make sure to tag me in that!” as he left.

“I swear if you even think about posting that…” you threatened, earning a smug smile from the friend you were now prepared to disown.

                             __________________________________

Your instagram was blowing up as you headed to the dance studio. Unfortunately for you, the person you still chose to call best friend had posted the photo after all, tagging you and Tom in the selfie. It had been seen and reposted by fan accounts, and many of those fans were following and commenting and messaging you about it.

In your opinion, the picture sucked. Not because it was a bad picture or that you looked terrible.

The problem was that you looked great. 

It was somehow one of the most flattering pictures anyone had ever taken of you and it angered you to think it gave an impression that you even cared in the slightest about Tom Holland.

As you stared at it longer, you wished you had either covered your face or gone without smiling. SOMETHING to show how little you cared.

You finally arrived and went to a private studio, deciding to let dance drown out the thoughts and help you channel your frustration.

You warmed up and then decided to practice an emotional piece you previously choreographed for an upcoming show. As you danced, stress flowed out in the form of tears as raw emotion emitted from your movements. 

You finished the dance exhausted yet glad that you had been able to channel everything into it, until you heard a male voice quietly say,

“Wow.”

Your head whipped around and a flash of anger hit when your eyes once again met those of Tom Holland’s as he stood in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly, mad that the seeming bane of your existence had just watched you pour out your heart on the dance floor, crying and sweaty and vulnerable.

“I, uh, well… I was invited to tour the studio and happened to see you in here, and you were incredible, breathtaking, really. You’re the girl from the premiere, y/n?”

“Thanks but this was private. And why do you care who I am? I was only at the premiere because my friend forced me to go.”

He stepped forward.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any problems. I figured you were a fan but I guess I misjudged…”

“Look man,” you began walking backwards towards your bag, “I was there for Zendaya and my friend. Nothing against you, but I'm just not one of your little teenage girl obsessors. Now if you’ll excuse m-”

And that's when you slipped and hit the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and your head had banged onto the ground, pain pulsing around the area.

“Woah, darling, are you alright?” Tom asked, rushing to kneel by your side.

“Don’t call me darling, and help me get to a doctors office.”

                             __________________________________

“Well, Ms. y/l/n, looks like you don’t have a concussion, but make sure to rest up for a couple days and take some painkillers and you’ll be in ship-shape,” the ER doctor informed you. 

You went to the check-out desk and walked around to waiting area, where a few people were pointing and whispering at Tom, who was nervously bouncing his knee. He stood up when he saw you.

“Y/n! What did they sa-”

“Just come with me spider boy. I’ll tell you while you drive me home,” you said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out the door.

                             __________________________________

“Shit,” Tom exclaimed under his breath after a few moments of awkward silence. 

“Get down, now,” he commanded.

“Excuse me?”

“Get. Down. We’re being followed”

You ducked down before whisper-yelling a “what are you talking about? Are you insane?”

He asked what to do since it was obvious that whoever was behind you wasn’t planning on going away any time soon. An idea popped into your head.

“Do you trust me?” You pleaded, almost kind and soft for the first time to him, “I might have an idea.”

“Anything to get us out of this.”

You and Tom threw some sunglasses on and you made a makeshift headscarf with a ballet skirt for yourself. You had him drive near your neighborhood in circles for a bit when the car finally passed you, trying to get pictures to sell.

You ducked and Tom sped off onto a side street towards your house. Thankfully, your parents had recently installed garage doors that connected to your phone, and your car was in the shop, so Tom was able to pull into your spot and you shut the door behind him.

“That was close,” he breathed, putting a hand on his heart, and you too felt your pulse racing.

“Now, we wait,” you said. 

“Alright, do you want to go in so you can rest? You look exhausted.”

“NO. I mean, uh, we can’t. My best friend is supposed to be coming over today and she’s the one who’s like, obsessed with you.”

“Can’t you cancel? You almost got a concussion after all.” 

“I guess, but my parents might not be happy knowing a random guy is in their house. How about I check the security cameras and see if the coast is clear?”

It wasn’t. Sitting across the street was the same car from earlier, one that definitely did not belong to your street, either. 

After sitting uncomfortably in the car for a half hour, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Let’s just go inside, but don’t make a big deal out of it.”

                             __________________________________

You yelled to your parents that a friend was staying the night as you snuck Tom up the stairs to your room.

“Staying the night?” he asked in his stupidly attractive accent as soon as you shut the door.

“Look, I hate this as much as you, but that pap or whoever he is probably won’t be leaving any time today. Since I’m being nice, I figured you could sleep on the floor or something. Don’t worry, I’ll find you blankets later.”

You sat on the foot of your bed and texted b/f/n, explaining that something had come up with dance and there was no way you could hang out. After a few minutes, you noticed that Tom hadn’t moved from standing by your door, and was quietly scanning the room.

“Are you gonna, like, sit down? You’re kinda making me nervous,” you stated awkwardly, glancing to the side.

“Oh, well, I didn’t want to be in the way and I know you don’t really want me here so I thought I’d stay over here. I’m fine, really.”

You rolled your eyes and patted the mattress next to you.

“Take a seat, bro. It’s gonna be a long night.”

                             __________________________________

You carefully carried some cokes and two plates of pizza into the room, where Tom was now seated comfortably on your bed. You had had the time to shower and change into clean clothes in the hour between coming home and dinner. He pocketed his phone and smiled upon seeing you.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing a plate and helping you set down the drinks.

“My parents were asking who was up here with me. I just told them you were a friend from dance and very shy.”

He chuckled and took a bite.

“Can I ask something?” You nodded. “Why exactly were you at the premiere the other day?”

You sighed and set down your pizza, explaining how b/f/n had coaxed you into coming.

“In all honesty, I probably would have said yes no matter what, I mean she’s my best friend after all, but I may have reconsidered if I knew this would be the outcome,” you laughed.

“Oh come on, you know you love me,” he joked back, prompting a look of slight disgust, another of many eye rolls, and a slight shove on the arm.

You continued talking well into the night, him explaining his story and you telling of your own life and aspirations. At some point you both lied back on the bed to continue talking and finally succumbed to exhaustion well into the early morning.

                             __________________________________

Sunlight streamed into your open curtains, blinding you as you awoke. You were confused as to why you weren’t underneath the covers and rolled over to find a famous person asleep on your bed. 

Your eyes widened and you moved to scoot out of the bed when he rolled over and inadvertently threw an arm over your side. Stuck under his muscular limb, you stayed still and closed your eyes, hoping he would eventually let go or wake up.

The faint remains of his cologne wafted to your nose and you couldn’t help but breathe it in. You relaxed further into his grip and stayed comfortable until you heard a buzz on the table next to you.

You decided to ignore it until it happened two more times. Finally, you decided to wiggle out of Tom’s grip and succeeded without waking him. You picked up the cell and noticed it was 10 a.m. and all three texts were from b/f/n.

                             __________________________________

Edited A/N: Omg I posted this once before then tried to edit my tags on mobile and it deleted EVERYTHING! Thank the Lord because I have the whole fic saved in my google drive (something I’ve never done until this fic) and I’m so glad it is. 

Anyways, there’s a part 2 linked at the top and part 3 is coming soon. Message me or ask to be in my tag list for this fic

[noreasonjustbored]

Fall In Fake Love With Me

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Henry scanned the hallway for a head full of dark curls until he located Charlotte standing by her locker talking to some people from L.I.M.P.

“Char!” Henry yelled while power walking towards her.

Deeply engrossed in her conversation, Charlotte didn’t hear Henry until he was right behind her. “Charlotte Marie Page!” he practically screamed in her ear.

Jumping slightly from the unexpected volume, Charlotte turned around with a glare. “First of all, that’s not my middle name. Second, why are you yelling?”

Her L.I.M.P. colleagues slowly walked away, knowing from experience that she was unlikely to return to their conversation now that Henry was there.

“That’s not the point! Listen, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Charlotte’s brain short-circuits. He wants me to WHAT? Be his girlfriend? I don’t really see him like that. I mean I can’t deny that he’s attractive but- dating? Since when does he have feelings for me? This could ruin our entire friendship!

“Ummm... Henry I don’t think that-“ she starts to protest. Henry puts a finger over Charlotte’s lips and frantically whispers, “Shhhhhh she’s coming!”

“Who’s coming?” Charlotte asks confusedly. Her question was answered a moment later when Bianca strolled over to them with a smirk on her face.

“Henry. Hi. I see you’re looking...taller since we last saw each other” she says while giving him a slow once over and biting her bottom lip.

“Yeah well, time will do that to you. Puberty and all that.” Henry laughs uncomfortably.

A small snort of amusement comes from Charlotte, causing both to look over at her.

“Henry’s friend! I didn’t see you there!”

Char fights the urge to roll her eyes, “Brittney! I didn’t know you were back in Swellview! How are you doing after the show?” she asks in a falsely sympathetic tone.

Bianca plastered on a tight smile. “I’m fine, we’re just on hiatus right now.”

“Oh? I heard that Kids in the Woods was cancelled?”

Bianca clenched her teeth and Charlotte could see a muscle in her jaw moving.

“Technically...but it’s only a matter of time before it’s picked up by another network. There’s a Change.org petition and everything. We have such loyal fans. I’m sure Netflix or Hulu will probably snatch it up real soon.”

“How optimistic. Good for you, keep hope alive.”

Bianca’s left eye twitched in annoyance as she swiveled her head in Henry’s direction. “Hey, I’ve been reaching out to you on Insta, have you gotten my messages?” Bianca asked while twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

“I don’t really check Instagram like that.”

“Oh. Well anyway” Bianca plows forward, “Since I’m back in town, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over frozen yogurt sometime?”

“Can’t. Sorry.”

“I didn’t even give you a date or time.” Bianca narrows her eyes at him.

“Uh- I’m uh...Charlotte! We always have plans. You know, booked and busy. Right babe?”

She gives him an exasperated look as understanding dawned on her. Oh! You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend in front of Bianca. Ugh, why do you always get me into these situations Henry? Going with the program, Charlotte wraps a hand around Henry’s bicep and leans into his side. “That’s right. Babe.”

Henry glances at Charlotte who is now looking up at him through her eyelashes and he looses his train of thought for a second. Whoa, Charlotte’s like really cute. When did that happen?

Bianca looks between both of them with squinted eyes, “Wait. Are you guys dating or something?”

“Or something” Char mumbles only loud enough for Henry to hear.

He snaps out of his daze when Charlotte widens her eyes at him, signaling that he still needs to respond to her question. “Yeah we’re deeeeeeep in love” Henry awkwardly says then clears his throat.

“Sure you are.” Bianca scoffs. “Henry, let me know if your schedule...clears up.”

She gives Charlotte a dirty look before turning on her heels and flouncing away.

Once she was out of sight, Char turns to her friend and hits him on the arm. “What was that?”

“I asked you to be my girlfriend!”

“Yeah but I didn’t agree! You forced my hand!”

“Forced your ha- what are you from the 1600s?”

“Whatever! I’m not being your fake girlfriend.”

“Why not?!?” Henry whines.

“Why not? Why would I?” Char asks incredulously.

“Because Bianca won’t leave me alone! I keep letting her down easy but she doesn’t take the hint. Look at what she calls ‘reaching out’, Henry says while pulling up Instagram on his Pear Phone. He goes to his DMs and clicks on Bianca’s picture. He scrolls through to show at least thirty to forty messages with no response from his end.

“Well that’s creepy. But how is it my problem?”

“Because you’re my best friend!”

“Why don’t you ask Jasper? He’s also your best friend and I’m sure he would pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah he would usually but he just asked out Taylor, how is he supposed to date me and go out with them? Plus I already asked and he said no.”

“Wow so I’m not even your first choice? Hard pass.” Charlotte replies as the bell rings.

As she walks away Henry shouts down the hallway, “You’re my first choice sometimes! Char! Char!”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Henry sighs and then heads to his own class.

At work they were lounging around when Henry noticed everyone else was gone. Just he and Char were left alone in the ManCave. Getting up from his seat at the console he walks over to Charlotte, who is laying upside down on the couch looking at her phone.

Standing over her for a few moments he contemplates what to say to broach the subject again.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Charlotte quips.

Henry pulls out his phone and she looks up right as he snaps a photo.

“I was joking, you weirdo” she replies while sitting up.

“Well I wasn’t.”

“Huh?”

“About the fake dating thing.” Henry sits down next to her on the couch.

“Ugh” Char groans and leans her head against the back of the couch.

“Just hear me out, okay?”

She didn’t respond at all and Henry took that as his cue to continue.

“Listen, Bianca has been trying to get back together with me ever since the end of last year. I was talking to her online AS FRIENDS when she started subtly and then not so subtly hitting on me. After a while, I just stopped responding. Now that’s she back in Swellville, it’s like she’s trying ten times harder. She keeps “happening to run into me” everywhere and blowing up my phone. It’s hella uncomfortable. I just need her to get off my back.”

“I’m sorry that you have a high-key stalker but honestly this situation only benefits you. What do I get out of it?”

“Ummmmmm...oh! You’re always complaining about your family constantly ragging

on you for not having a significant other. I’m significant! I can be your other.”

“They want me to have a real partner, not someone dating me to keep a 115 pound girl at bay.”

“Yeah but they won’t know that it’s not real. Come on Char! Didn’t you tell me the other day how you weren’t looking forward to your family reunion? Because of all the slick comments that you’d get about being single?”

“I mean true but-“

“See! Exactly!” Henry stood in excitement.

“Yeah but how would it work? Would we have to like...kiss?”

“Ummm...possibly? I didn’t really think about that.” Henry sits back down slowly.

“I just don’t want it to be awkward between us.”

“I get what you mean, but we can still do this! It’s not like we have to make out or anything. I doubt we’ll even have to kiss on the lips. Cheek kisses, forehead kisses. That’s cute right?”

“I guess.” Charlotte stated.

“Don’t you want to see the look on your cousins’ faces when you stroll in there with me on your arm?”

“Alyssa does always have the most to say and she probably wouldn’t expect that we would ever get together. I could finally get her to stop throwing shade.” Char contemplates.

“Soooooooooooo...you’ll do it?”

Charlotte sighs, “I know I’m going to regret this immediately.”

“Yes! You’re the best girlfriend in the world!”

“FAKE girlfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. So where do we start?”

“I don’t know, wasn’t this YOUR plan?”

“Uh yeah but you’re the planner in this relationship.”

“Man are you annoying.”

“You love me.” Henry grins cheekily and leans his head on her shoulder.

“Sometimes” came her response as she pushed his head away.

“Ok we already know that I’m going to go to the family reunion with you that’s a no-brainer. When is that happening?”

“Two weeks.” Char readily supplies.

“Perfect, and as for Bianca. We gotta go somewhere where we could flaunt our relationship in front of her.”

“School?”

“Yeah but more than that. Somewhere outside of campus so she knows I wasn’t lying about being busy with you all the time.”

“But where could we go that she was guaranteed to see us?”

“Hmmm...what about the football game this Friday? Bianca joined the cheerleading team so we know she’ll be there.”

“Wow, she’s really dedicated to her trope huh?”

Henry gives her a confused look in reply.

“Bitchy, popular girl is also a cheerleader? How one dimensional.”

“Oh she’s got dimensions, and all of them are crazy.”

“Whatever. Let’s set some ground rules.”

“Rules? You sure know how to suck the life out of something.”

She glares in retaliation.

“Ok ok, what are these rules?”

“Rule number 1. Whatever happens, this will not ruin our friendship.”

“Nothing bad is gonna happen Char, relax.”

“Just agree.”

“Alright, I agree. We will always stay friends. Anything else?”

“Yeah, we only do this for a month, two tops. That’s enough time for me to get my family to stop breathing down my neck about “gettin a man” and hopefully enough time for Bianca to move on to her next victim.”

“Seems fair. I have a rule.”

“Shoot.”

“We can’t tell anyone that it’s not real.”

“What, why? Not even Jasper?”

“Especially not Jasper! He can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Valid.”

“I just don’t want to risk this getting back to Bianca and she figures out I’m actually single. Plus, it’ll make it seem more authentic if everyone around us believes it. Lastly, we’ll look super lame if anyone found out.”

“You made several points. Any other rules?”

“Don’t fall in love with me” Henry smirks jokingly.

“You wish.”

[dayseternal-blog]

A NaruHina fanfic based off of shamy’s doujinshi posted May 31, 2019.  Please check out her 5-panel illustration!

Read Chapter 1 here.

Read Chapter 2 here.

Chapter 3: Better than J-dramas

She was looking at me a lot, right?  

He slumps down into his couch at home, pondering the girl he just met.  

It could just be that she was shy, knew him the best, and so she felt more comfortable turning to him during their lunch break.  

Or, it could be his imagination, his ego, talking.  But he doesn’t want to be one of those guys, who thinks that every time a girl smiles at him, that means she’s into him.

Or…

He tilts his head in thought.  Maybe she liked me a little?

True, they just met, but he’s a pretty attractive guy, right?  He knows he’s not ugly, maybe not a 10, but not like a 3, either.  He works out regularly, and in his own, awesome opinion, he thinks he’s pretty nice.

Would I like that?  

If she is interested in him?

He wouldn’t mind it…

She was rather pretty.  She had a nice face and nice skin.  Nice, interesting eyes.  Nice hair.  Nice voice.  She was a nice girl.  Cute.

Not very fashionable, with her long skirt and sweater layered over another sweater, but maybe that just means she’s not high maintenance (unlike his semi-serious, acting-major ex Shion from sophomore year).

It’s not like he’s really fashionable, either.

He recalls her quiet smiles and determined expressions.  Yeah, she was cute.  She definitely seemed sorta innocent, which is a quality he doesn’t see too often in girls his age anymore.  That seems to really up her appeal to him in ways he doesn’t want to self-examine.    

Wonder if she has a boyfriend.  

He remembers everything she told him and the things he learned about her online.  He knows she doesn’t have any social media accounts, or they at least don’t pop up on search engines.  And nothing she said hinted at a special someone.

She did talk about a few friends.  

He frowns at the extent of his contemplation.  I should just ask her out!   It wouldn’t be a big deal because if she says no, he’d probably never see her again after the concert, unless she has another concert, but it’s whatever.  

He’s old enough to ask people out casually, isn’t he?  

It’s just not something he’s ever really done.  With his “free” time in college spent in various theatres around town part-timing, building his network, or watching other shows to learn new design ideas, he doesn’t exactly have a strong dating history.  Usually Sakura makes it her personal mission to hook him up with someone, but it’d be nice to not wait for her to find him his next maybe-we’re-together-but-maybe-we’re-just-seeing-each-other fling that inevitably ends because the girl can’t handle his fluctuating work schedule (Monday and Tuesday or Thursday off, work some weekday nights and every weekend).  

Imagine if he told her he started dating someone without her help!  Hah!  He’s not a helpless case after all!

Anyway, it’s not a big deal.        

He can do it.

And, if he doesn’t start now, Sakura will run out of willing friends eventually, and he’ll have to start signing up for those dating apps and “sliding” into random people’s DMs, and, well, he’d rather not?

Yeah, yeah, I’ll ask her out for coffee or something.

With that matter settled and tucked away for later, he grabs the remote, turns on the streaming app, and navigates the site to the drama.  It’s only 13 episodes long, one hour each. He can definitely marathon it, especially since he doesn’t have to go in for work in the morning.

He’s halfway through the first episode when his flatmate, his best friend, walks in.  “Oh, you’re watching Picture Tomorrow.”  

Naruto turns to hear Sasuke dumping his stuff in the kitchen.  “Yeah, did you watch this?”

“Sakura made me.”

Figures.  Naruto turns back to the show.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I’m not?”

“Well, of course not since the girl dies at the end.”

Naruto turns furiously to see him standing there indifferently.  He throws his hands up.  “Sasuke!”

“What.  You didn’t know that?  How could you not know that?”

“Well, I didn’t!”

“Oh.”  Sasuke retreats back to the kitchen.

With the end spoiled, Naruto continues the show with less enthusiasm than before.  He watches the love interest gaze at the simpleminded heroine curiously.   She’s gonna die!  Don’t fall in love with her!   He sighs as he realizes every single moment watching this drama will now be colored with those thoughts.  “Did you like it?” he questions loud enough for Sasuke to hear over the sound of the sink’s running water.

“...”

Naruto watches Sasuke silently deliberating across the serving counter.  If he hated it, he would have said so already.  “So it’s a good show, then?”

“It’s interesting.”

That’s pretty much Sasuke-speak for ‘it’s great.’  “I’m gonna marathon the whole thing tonight.  You wanna join?”

Sasuke grimaces at him.  

But a couple minutes later, after he microwaves some leftovers, he joins him on the couch.

“Oh, this is one of her songs,” Naruto comments aloud as the episode flashes a few sponsors before a commercial break.

Sasuke turns to look at him.

“Hinata, the pianist.  She’s having a concert at HKT this Saturday, and I’m her point person,” he explains.

Sasuke silently nods.

Throughout the drama, he vocally notices her songs.  “This is her song, too...think this one’s called ‘Finally Arrived.’”  He mentally considers that the music sounds different from her online profile, like with other instruments added, and he doesn’t doubt that she composed the music for them, too.  “Gee, she’s really talented.”  

“Hn.”

Eventually Sasuke leaves him alone, and it’s a good thing because when the heroine tells her love interest her diagnosis, but they start dating anyway, Naruto finds himself tearing up.  

By morning, he’s got a permanent frown on his face when she tells him she wants to break up with him, while keeping her terminally ill prognosis secret.

Sasuke comes out, readying for work.

“Sasukeeee...why…” he exhaustedly whines.  

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, no, I like it...I think…”

“Are there still tickets for her concert?”

“Wha?  Oh, I dunno...probably…ugh I hate this show...I mean I don’t hate it…”

“Stupid.”

“Noo, this is your fault.”

“Later.”  The door clicks shut, and Naruto is left alone to wallow in his misery.

Sasuke doesn’t come back that night, probably staying over at Sakura’s place, so he doesn’t have anyone to voice his thoughts to until the next day when he goes in for work.  

He tells the rest of the crew about how his jerk of a flatmate spoiled the ending, and how touching it was that the boyfriend ended up becoming a cancer researcher.  

To which their only reaction of note is how Naruto didn’t know that the girl was going to die at the end.  “How did you not know that?”  “The novel’s been on the best-selling list all season!”

“I just didn’t know!”

When Hinata comes in for her rehearsal, he unthinkingly engages her in his venting.  “I finally watched Picture Tomorrow!” he informs her.

Her lips turn up slightly.  “Oh, did you like it?”

“Yes!  I hated it.”

“Oh…”

“It was so sad,” he bemoans.

“So...you didn’t like it?” she asks.

“No, it was great!  It was awful,” he clarifies for her.

It starts quietly, her giggle.  He watches her light grey eyes disappear into small slits under dark lashes, and he’s momentarily struck by the realization that he made her laugh.

“Your music was great, too,” he adds, and he suddenly finds himself much more taken with her smile than the drama.  She’s wearing make-up today.  And a dress.  “It completely tied together every scene, it was really nice.”

Her eyes, her entire expression, shines up at him.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you liked it.”

“Yeah...”  He works his hand into the back of his neck.  Right before the rehearsal starts would not be a good time to ask her out.  So, he redirects his thoughts to his work.  “Are you ready to get started?”

She nods, her shy gaze still focused on him, her cheeks still lightly pink from her laughter.

And he notes how she still looks happy as she follows him toward the stage.

He and the rest of the crew clap and give her cheers as she bows to the empty seats.  

She turns and looks at him, smiling a scrunched up, embarrassed and amused expression at their antics.

He grins at her, making sure to holler an extra loud “Wooh!”

Her mouth seems to drop open in surprise, her brows furrowing in confusion at his enthusiasm as she comes off the stage into the wings.  

“We won’t be able to cheer you on tomorrow night, so we gotta do it today,” he explains.  Tomorrow they’ll all be in work-mode.  Silent and invisible.  

“Oh,” she answers thoughtfully.  “Thank you.”

“Yeah!  Everything sounded great.  Looks like we’re ready for tomorrow!”  

She smiles in agreement and nods.  

He feels his weight tipping forward toward his toes, an antsiness that urges him to bounce on his feet.  Now’s the time, now’s the time.

His senior’s yell bursts through his thoughts.  “Hinata!  Before you go, I wanted to know if you’d sign this sheet music for my wife.  She teaches your songs to some of her piano students.”

She turns from him, her smile directed away.  “Oh, sure!”

Naruto lets out a silent sigh.

He doesn’t get another moment alone with her, and he doesn’t want to subject himself or Hinata to the pressure of asking her out in front of everyone.

It’s only later that night when he’s leaving the theatre and walking to the bus stop that it occurs to him he could message her.  He has her number saved, at the time it was for “just in case” as her point person.  

Well, but asking her out in a message seems like a cop out.

He fiddles with his phone for a few seconds before opening a new thread.  

“Hey Hinata this is Naruto”  

He sends it before he can regret it.

He waits a minute.  

Nothing.

She might be one of those people who doesn’t obsessively check their phone’s notifications.

He starts typing again.  

“We’re all getting dinner around 4:30 tomorrow.  You’re welcome to join us before your warmup”  

He stares at his phone for a few seconds before pocketing it.  Based on her response, he might be able to gauge her interest in him.  If she responds.

His phone vibrates when he’s nearing his stop, and he’s relieved to see that it’s her as he exits the bus.

“Hello, Naruto, thank you :)  I’ll be there!”

A positive response.  A pretty normal, positive response.  

He doesn’t gauge anything from it, and now he has to figure out how to reply.  For anyone else, he would just “like” her reply.

But she’s not exactly just anyone, and he kind of wants her to notice him the way he’s noticing her.

“Great, see you tomorrow”

He considers adding “have a good night,” quickly decides against it, and presses send.

Her reply comes almost automatically.  “Yes, have a good night :)”

He frowns at his phone.  He should have just added it the first time.  Now is it weird to drag on the conversation?  Why didn’t she just say “see you tomorrow” in response?

Before he can take any longer thinking about it, he sends a short message.  

“You too”

He lets out a long breath.  

The last time he exchanged messages with a girl (that wasn’t a platonic friend) was three months ago.  That contact didn’t last past the first date, set up by Sakura.

They were incompatible.  Little attraction on both sides when it came to conversation.

It would be nice if he could have a relationship.  None of this waiting around, none of this feeling the other person out, none of this second-guessing every move, or just trying to make a move.  

He’s ready for more.

He's ready for someone to share some sweetness with.

[maybeformepersonally]

Fic: you are the choice i'll keep making

Title: you are the choice i'll keep making Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: NC-17 / Explicit Summary: In a universe where soulmates travel forward in time once in their lifetime to be with their bonded and solidify their relationship, 23-year-old Phil jumps forward to 2019. Word Count: 13,271 Author’s Note: I wrote this for the @phandomreversebang. I want to thank the admins on the PBR for organising this. And a special thanks to my team, @jorzuela and @agathelight, for their support and patience with me. Thank you to @agathelight for betaing this fic and putting up with my terrible time management skills, any mistakes that remain are solely my fault; and to @jorzuela for making the beautiful art to accompany my fic!

                                             [art by @jorzuela]

Masterpost for the art

Read on AO3

 Dan is pondering the merits of getting up for a snack. They’re having a pajama week to unwind and recharge before they emerge from their little holiday, so they’ve been mostly lazing around the house and catching up with some tv shows.

 Now that Phil’s birthday week is over, they figured they’d take a few days for themselves, not their audience, not their friends and family, just the two of them in their shared home.

 Phil had insisted he needed to top off the bird feeders before they settled down to watch something, even though they had filled it to the brim less than 12 hours ago, but he shouldn’t take longer than a couple minutes, so Dan had rolled his eyes at him and let him go enable the overweight pigeons living off Phil’s soft spot for any and all animals.

 Dan decides not to get a snack, after all. He’s not that hungry and he doesn’t really feel like getting up. They can find something to eat later. Something to “put them on”, Dan thinks with a grin. Phil’s northern vernacular will never stop being charming, probably.

 Speaking of, where is he? Topping off the feeder shouldn’t take him this long.

 ***

  Soulmates are and have been a point of contention since the dawn of time. Religions the world over had tried to impose their own interpretation of what the jump meant, entire libraries could be filled with both fictional stories and philosophical speculation about the biological, social and cultural implications of the bonds. Academic circles are, to this day, firmly split into two camps: the metaphysical paradigm that asserts there’s such a thing as non-physical bonds that tie people who are destined to be together; and the agentic paradigm, which argues that what creates the bonds in the first place is our decisions to be with someone and the work we put into strengthening and maintaining such bonds. This interpretation would explain why there’s been reported cases of a single individual having more than one “soulmate” in the course of their life, whether consecutively or concurrently, as well as why the jumps normally happen after the pair have been together for a while. Anecdotal evidence and later systematic analysis of data both appear to confirm this thesis in that the jump never happens before the individual has “decided” to stay with the other person(s). However, despite the paradigm shift that has occurred in the modern age, many people still favour either the metaphysical interpretation or a fusion of both of them, and the idea that there is “someone out there made for every one of us” is still a ubiquitous trope in media.

 ***

  Dan sees him first. Phil. Phil as Dan had first met him, emo hair and plaid shirt and bony angles, looking around cautiously, everything from his posture to the tight expression on his face telegraphing his fear. Dan can read Phil better than anyone, but he thinks even a complete stranger would probably be able to see it. He looks so young. He is so beautiful. It makes Dan breathless.

 “Phil.” Dan tries to call his attention gently, but Phil still jumps and almost ends up on the floor. He puts his right hand to his chest and clings to the wall with the other one. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before Phil seems to deflate, worry seemingly evaporating and leaving him unsteady.

 “I wanted it to be you.” Phil lets out a small, wet, shaky laugh, and wipes the stray tears from his cheeks as soon as they start to fall. “I wanted it to be you so bad.”

 Before he realises he’s made the decision to move, Dan is in front of him, wrapping him in his arms and holding on tightly. Phil clings to him desperately and lets himself cry into Dan’s comforting shoulder. Dan’s broader shoulder. It’s a bit unsettling, but this is still Dan, and Phil is dizzy with relief at the concrete physical evidence that it was Dan, that he’d been right, that it had always been Dan.

 “I’ve got you,” Dan whispers into his ear, “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay to let it out. I love you so much, Phil. I’m here.”

 (Dan would say, “I knew it”, in an almost whisper, a shaky breath laced with a bone-deep certainty. The raw emotional delivery did nothing to conceal the conviction of the words. “I knew it was you.” Phil would ask him, later, much later, after the whole thing was over, how he’d been so sure. Dan couldn’t explain it to him, he just knew.

 “Remind me again how I’m the one who believes in fate of the two of us?”

 “It wasn’t fate that brought us together, Phil. It was luck, and effort on my part at first, and on both our parts later, to make it work. That’s what makes it so special. Not that it’d inevitably happen. But that it could have never happened, but it did. And we’re the ones who made it last.”

 Phil wouldn’t answer with words. He’d shake his head in wonder and bury his face in Dan’s neck, breathe him in, wrap his arms around this man who still made him weak in the knees, still made him giddy with excitement, still made him nervous, the good kind of nervous, the kind that came from hopeless infatuation, from the exhilaration of having your affections returned, from seeing the future stretch out before you and being eager rather than scared because you knew you’ll have your person beside you every step of the way. And he’d let it be.)

 ***

  Dan knew it'd be Phil for him because he never believed in fate. Dan knew it'd be Phil because Phil is the one Dan chose, and by the time the jump happened to him, he was comfortably three years into this relationship that was better than anything Dan could have dreamed of as a depressed, pessimistic teenager who didn’t even know what having a best friend was like. By the time it happened, he knew that he'd chosen well and that Phil wouldn't leave him, that Phil (impossibly) really did love him as fiercely as Dan loved him, that Phil was more than deserving of Dan's trust and devotion and love.

 ***

  Phil's jump happens shortly before their first year anniversary. Phil has made his decision, but no matter how right it feels, no matter how much and how obviously Dan loves him, Phil is still afraid.

 He's never felt this way before. This is what he’s been hoping for, what all the films and books and songs were about, he’s been craving this for years and finally it was here and there was a lot he hadn’t anticipated: the way Dan was on his mind all the time, all day, no matter what he was doing, like Dan had made his way under his skin and laid claim to his mind (Phil supposed that in a way he had); the painful clench in his chest when Dan had to say goodbye at the train platform and they’d have to be apart for days or weeks, sometimes without even knowing when they’d get to hold each other again; the knot in his throat as he made his way back home after watching Dan go into the train with heavy shoulders and sad eyes, and Phil knew that Dan would be miserable until they met again; the spike of excitement every time he got a message from Dan, or a tweet, or a call. But of all the things he hadn’t foreseen, the one that surprised him the most was the fear. The fear was always in the back of his mind, indistinct and amorphous. It changed shape and intensity, but it never quite left. When Phil was particularly happy, especially when Dan was within physical reach but sometimes when they were skyping too, the fear dissipated until Phil forgot about it, a nebulous mist that didn’t weigh on him at all. But then the call ended, or Dan had to go back home, and it resolidified into a more palpable form.

 What if meeting was a bad idea? What if Dan was disappointed when they met IRL? What if Phil couldn’t meet Dan’s expectations? Surely they’d talked enough through comments and DMs and Skype that Dan had got to know him beyond the Amazingphil persona? Did Dan really mean it when he flirted with Phil online? (And he did, constantly.) What if Dan wasn’t attracted to him in person? Phil couldn’t control what he looked like IRL like he could on the screen, couldn’t select the perfect angle, pick and choose and edit and filter. (It didn’t occur to him that Dan couldn’t either. It was irrelevant because Phil already knew he fancied him, would fancy him with bad lighting and from terrible angles, with eyebags and spots and his dreaded naturally curly hair that Dan hated so much and Phil not-so-secretly thought was really cute.)

 And then they’d met, finally, finally, and Dan was even more beautiful in the flesh, and more nervous too, but still just as interested in Phil, still just as keen on everything Phil had to say, and after the perfect first day together Dan had kissed him, and Phil felt his heart do something it had never done before in his chest. He’d been so happy at the time he didn’t notice the fear was still there until Dan was gone.

 Ultimately, what the fear came down to was: was Dan as serious about this as Phil was?

 Dan is younger than him; he's young and driven and talented and so lovely and sure, he wants Phil now, loves Phil now, but he's starting uni soon, and he's so young. Phil remembers being a teenager scared about the next step in his life (he’s still scared about that too, to be honest, but lately everything seems to be falling into place and Dan is a part of that,) it might only have been five years, but it feels like a lifetime. Phil feels like a different person, and it scares him to think that Dan might become a different person too, a person who doesn’t want him. Dan is still struggling to decide what he wants in life other than YouTube (and Phil) and who knows what he'll want a year from now, five, ten.

 The crux of the matter is: Phil wants it to be Dan, but Dan just turned nineteen, and Phil knows a lifetime commitment is too much to ask of a nineteen year old who feels so adrift and so desperate for a genuine connection that he agreed to take a three-hour-train to spend a long weekend in the house of a man he met on the internet. 

***

 The jumps propell the bonded forward in time to a point in their future when they are with their soulmate, but there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. Some jumps cover decades, while others only go forward a few days. Some jumps last for a few minutes (the shortest on record spanned 13 minutes and 48 seconds), while some take days, with the longest known being over two weeks.

 ***

 Phil encases his face between his hands and holds him there, held him close. “Let me look at you.”

 Dan knows he’s flushed with emotion, knows his own eyes are taking in this younger Phil just as much as Phil’s are studying him.

 “God, you still look at me like that?” Phil sounds wrecked, and like he might start crying again any moment now. Dan wants to hold him tight, wants to kiss him, wants to shield him from any bad thing in the world. Wants, most of all, to make him happy.

 “Yeah,” Dan drawls, soft with overwhelming love for this young man. “I get teased about it all the time. Mostly by you.”

 Phil keeps staring at him in silence, looking dazed. He brings his left hand to Dan’s curls, pats them lightly to watch them spring back into place. From there he goes to Dan’s hoop earring, running a finger down his ear and following the motion with an amazed expression, down to Dan’s exposed collarbones and latching on to the denim jacket covering the white t-shirt that his own Phil, 32-year-old Phil, loves so much. Dan likes to joke it’s because you can make out his nipples through the thin fabric. He knows he isn’t entirely wrong.

 He spares a thought to be thankful that the cold prompted him to get dressed this morning. He likes that he’s looking good for this. For Phil.

 “Oh my god.” Phil is covering his mouth with one hand like he used to do back in the beginning, back when they first met. Back before Dan sweet talked him out of covering up his gorgeous smile which Dan loved so much. Back when some stupid teenage boys’ cutting words still resonated somewhere inside Phil’s head, making him self conscious about some of his best features. Dan’s always been a pacifist, but there’s been times he’s really wanted to cut a bitch.

 It’s still so cute. If Dan didn’t know why he used to do it, he would miss it more.

 “You look like the really cool bad boy protagonist from a movie. The kind I’d fantasize about but could never hope to get in real life.”

 The words hit Dan like a physical blow and wipe the smile he hadn’t even realised he’d settled on.. The sentiment is so backwards that it makes his chest tighten, makes his stomach swoop and a choked feeling to lodge in his throat. Dan knows Phil harbours some insecurities, that it’s only human to do so, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. Phil should know how wonderful he is.

 “Phil…” his voice is soft and quiet. Somewhere between admonishing and pleading.

 Phil gives a little breathless laugh, eyes never straying from Dan’s face. “It’s true,” he insists. His smile belies his self-effacing words, and Dan is weak for that smile.

 “You got me.”

 Dan frames Phil’s face in his big hands and slowly draws him closer, closer still, maintaining eye contact that feels too intense, too wrought with emotion, but Phil doesn’t look away, doesn’t close his eyes until after their lips have connected.

 ***

 There is no definitive guide on the soulmate phenomenon, as no general consensus has been reached on the matter; but as expected from a topic that has fascinated and mystified humanity for as long as we can be considered such (i.e. for all of human history), there is a wealth of knowledge accrued on the subject.

 The highlights are as follows. ‘Soulmates’ share a strong connection, though it might take a long time for that connection to form. The bond requires a certain level of commitment before the jump can take place, and there is overwhelming evidence confirming that the jump will not occur unless both individuals involved have consciously committed to one another. The bond is often romantic in nature, but it needs not be. It can be consummated sexually, but this is not a requirement, and there are countless known instances of both romantic and platonic bonds that were never physically consummated. While rare, the bond does not require a physical meeting at all, there have been cases of soulmates who established their connection through correspondence and met for the first time during their jump. This has become less rare with the developments of technology and the advent of the internet, but it still represents a small percentage overall. People can have one soulmate in their lifetime, or they can have multiple ones, or none at all. Children can’t be part of such a bond, even a platonic one; our current understanding is that children lack the psychological maturity to knowingly and conscientiously decide to commit to someone at the required level. Teenagers can form this bond, very, very rarely. Statistics calculate that the number of teenagers to form this bond (i.e. younger than 18-years-old) is slightly less than 0.0003% of all bonds. The youngest recorded cases were of 15-year-olds, all of them bonded to older individuals. But soulmate bonds normally happen in adulthood, becoming more statistically likely the older the person gets, the mode (highest concentration of bonded cases) is 45, with a sustained number of cases from ages 32 to 56, until the curve starts to descend again around 57 years old.

 ***

 Phil keeps staring at him. It is actually worse than those first few months when they got together. Back then, he at least tried not to be too obvious, but now he doesn’t seem to care; perhaps due to the confirmation from the universe that Dan is here to stay, possibly because he can see this Dan isn’t shy about it at all, quite the contrary. Dan has always enjoyed Phil’s eyes on him, but a full decade of work on himself and his own insecurities, and the same amount of time of steadfast love and support to get used to the intensity of the emotions sparked by Phil’s stare on him… well, they’ve made a difference. He’s never quite shied away from Phil’s visibly appreciative eyes (well, not since they first met IRL, anyway), but he used to feel self-conscious. Like Phil’s focused attention might at any moment reveal Dan’s own shortcomings and Phil might change his mind. Of course, that never happened.

 Now, Dan preens a little under Phil’s attention, and, as always, he stares back.

 ***

 Dan was the one who brought it up first. It was on their postponed Portugal trip. They’d been markedly affectionate the whole trip, more so than usual even. Phil felt touch-starved, he couldn’t get enough of touching Dan. It had only been a week since he’d been with Dan before the trip, but Phil had been feeling the distance even more keenly than usual, and Dan had been just as affected if their skype calls were anything to go by.

 Phil kept expecting the gaping need he felt in his chest whenever Dan wasn’t within touching distance to abate, for this yearning to be assuaged and the longing to settle into something more manageable. It’s what everyone said would happen after he’d been with someone for a while. Except it’s been seven months and it’s only got worse. At least Dan seemed to be just as bad. And he was always so happy when Phil indulged himself by sitting too close or touching his arm or pretending to bite him. In fact, Dan had caught on pretty fast and he’d started being physically affectionate right back. (Phil especially liked it when Dan put his arm around him. He’d been the first person to do it, somehow, and Phil hadn’t expected he’d like it so much, but he did.)

 Phil had thought about it before that point, of course. Could not stop thinking about it, really, he loved Dan so much, was thinking about him all the time, of course he’d considered the possibility that Dan and he could be soulmates. But he didn’t know how to bring it up. They’d just celebrated their seven month anniversary, Dan had been with his ex-girlfriend for almost three years.

 They were drinking and lazing around on the beach when it happened, watching the sunset and babbling about whatever came to mind. Phil had flopped down at some point when the scenery started spinning a little, so he had his head on Dan’s lap. He was looking up at him, feeling warm and happy and in love (he was always feeling in love these days), and Dan had buried his fingers in Phil’s hair at some point and was gently scratching his scalp in a way that had Phil’s insides squirming happily. If Phil was a cat, he’d be purring right then and there.

 “Phil?”

 “Mmh?” Okay, maybe he wasn’t so far from purring all things considered.

 “If we’re soulmates, you’d be alright with me fucking the older version of you, right?”

 Phil was too comfortable and relaxed to do much more than chuckle from his place on the sand (and Dan’s lap). Of course that’s how he brought it up. Phil was too happy about it to mind, honestly, and he did raise a good question, to be fair.

 “Yeah,” Phil answered, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt a little. He’d been smiling so much lately, always did when he was with Dan. “That’s fine. I’d be worried if you didn’t want to, honestly.”

 “Cool.” Dan was smiling back just as wide. He looked gorgeous, flushed from the wine, with his hair tousled and his pretty collarbones fully on display in his sleeveless Howl shirt. His skin looked soft and extremely touchable in the sunlight. Phil raised his hand and poked his dimple.

 “I’m fucking older you too, by the way,” Phil told him.

 “Yeah, okay.” Dan said, then promptly turned his head and bit at Phil’s finger, which had them both giggling and poking each other for the next few minutes, until Dan blatantly cheated by tickling Phil’s sides until he surrendered.

 ***

 Dan had distractedly pushed Phil back while they kissed, until Phil bumped into the back of their sofa.

 Phil pulls back from the kiss breathing heavily, and seems content to look intently at Dan some more, idly rubbing Dan’s shoulders seemingly without noticing. “You’re so pretty. It’s unreal.”

 Dan huffs a fond laugh, pulls Phil a little closer by his grip on his waist. “Well, from my completely unbiased opinion as your soulmate, I can tell you, you are in fact the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, I’m not!” Phil protests, but he’s giggling and blushing brighter than before, and Dan can see the happiness practically radiating off him, so he just places a little kiss on Phil’s nose and smiles back really wide at Phil’s reaction.

 ***

 In many cultures, sexual contact during the jump was discouraged if the bonded pair were not already married at the time the bonded jumped forward, for fear of it resulting in a pregnancy that could not be justified to the spouse or the spouse’s family. While not very common, a lot of suspicious pregnancies were explained this way, leading social mores to frown upon the practise and, in some cases, to forbid it. While this wouldn’t matter for same-sex couples, the norm was considered universal, and romantic love being what it is, this rule was universally broken whenever bonded pairs had motive and opportunity.

  It is no longer viewed negatively, although some argue that couples should discuss the possibility ahead of time, as many people still feel uncomfortable with the thought of their partner being sexually involved with their future self.

***

 Dan guides Phil up the stairs to their room, squeezing his hand all the way there and only getting distracted by the vision of this younger Phil twice or thrice on the way.

 They kiss until Phil is breathless. Dan is keeping him flush against the wall and still Phil is grasping at Dan’s sweater and trying to pull him closer. Dan feels… firmer than he’s used to. His wandering hands have already confirmed that Dan must have taken up exercise at some point, if his arms and back are anything to go by. Phil is downright eager to do some further exploring.

 Before he can so much as catch his breath, however, Dan is running his hands down from where he’d been holding him by the hips, and without breaking eye contact he bends down to slide them down and around Phil’s thighs and grabs them firmly in those big, soft hands that Phil loves so much. The sensation is unexpectedly carnal, the trail left by Dan’s touch tingles and Phil is so hard he instinctually tries to grind against Dan, but Dan’s hold is strong enough to keep him in place. The combination of that thought and the feeling of Dan’s hands on him is enough to wring a soft moan from Phil’s throat. Then, in a practised move that makes Phil actually, in real life, honest to God fucking swoon, Dan rights himself and lifts Phil up with him, immediately trapping him between his own firm, wide chest and the even firmer wall. Phil can’t help a little scream of surprise, but he instinctively wraps his legs around Dan’s lower back anyway.

 Dan. Is holding him up against the wall. Dan is strong enough to pick him up and then continue to hold him up against the wall and that is so hot that Phil grabs his face in both hands and starts kissing him again, cock throbbing where it’s trapped against Dan’s chest.

 ***

 After Dan’s carried him to the bed and let him fall back on it carefully, he quickly finishes taking off his own clothes while Phil watches him intently. But he isn’t given much time to appreciate the sight before Dan is on him again, kissing the breath out of him, biting his shoulder in that way that’s so familiar, sucking on his nipples and dragging his tongue down his stomach, making Phil squirm.

 "What do you want?" Dan presses the words against the soft skin under his belly button.  Phil opens his mouth but the words stick in his throat, the barrage of different scenarios crashing together and causing a jam effectively prevent any one them from making it past his lips.  Dan looks up to him heatedly, his hands never stop their trek up and down the sensitive skin of his sides.

 When Phil doesn't speak, he drags his nails teasingly down his flanks, firm enough to have Phil's abs contracting at the unexpected jolt of pleasure and his hips lifting of their own accord. His erection rubs deliciously against Dan's collarbones, with only the fabric of his thin boxer briefs standing in the way.  "You can have everything you want, baby. There's nothing you could ask me that I wouldn't want to give you. You just need to decide what you want first." The words are low and soothing, punctuated by a firm kiss to the prominent freckle to the right of Phil's belly button.  "Fuck me," Phil blurts out. It wasn't so much a conscious decision as it was a gut feeling given a voice.  Dan's eyes don’t stray from him, the intensity of his gaze makes Phil shy, it makes him feel powerful, makes him want to preen and hide with equal intensity.

 Dan doesn’t move from between Phil’s thighs, however. He only shimmies down a little on the bed until his arms and shoulders are under Phil’s hips and his face is directly above the stretched fabric of Phil’s boxers. The sight fuels the electricity building up under Phil skin into something heavier.

 Dan holds himself up on his elbows and brings his hands up to grab handfuls of Phil’s outer thighs right where his boxer shorts end, while his thumbs rub the back of his thighs, dipping teasingly under the fabric. Before Phil can get the words together to ask, Dan dives his head down without an ounce of shame, rubs his nose and lips against Phil’s cock through the thin fabric, then turns to rub his cheek against it, eliciting a moan from Phil at the shockingly erotic image he makes. Phil is technically wearing pants, yeah, but he is hard enough that he’s started dripping precome and the thin stretchy fabric has molded around him in a way that only brings attention to his length, it looks almost more obscene than he would completely naked.

 Dan places his lips against the root again, but this time he opens his mouth to suck lightly at him through the fabric, causing more quiet moans to fall unbidden from Phil’s lips, and he moves his hands up from where he’s gripping Phil’s thighs firmly, until he’s grabbing the place where Phil’s thighs meet the curve of his ass. His palms are warm and solid on him, his fingers sink purposely under the fabric and into the tender skin right behind his balls. The sensation is so good that Phil can’t help trying to buck into it, but Dan’s hands keep his hips in place.

 “God, I love the sounds you make,” Dan pulls back just enough to be heard, and the sudden feeling of cold air where just a moment ago was Dan’s warmth mouth sucking at his cock through cloth has Phil whining and attempting another unsuccessful thrust. Dan sounds so wrecked already.

 “Okay, hand me the lube. I’m going to finger you until you’re open enough to take me.”

 “Fuck. Yeah, please,” Phil says breathlessly. “Where…?”

 “On the bedside table. To your left.” He doesn’t take his hands off Phil, but he does hold himself up to give him enough room to move. Phil reaches with shaky hands and is momentarily worried he might drop it, but the next second he has his hand around it and hands it over to Dan, who loosens his grip on Phil’s groin to take it.

 Dan places it to the side and moves to peel the snug fabric off of him, lifting his legs in the air and then back down with firm but gentle hands. Then, instead of resuming his previous position as Phil had expected, he sits up between Phil’s legs, with one knee bended and the other spread to the side, and he places a pillow under Phil’s hips for easier access. Phil feels wonderfully exposed laying down like this, cock hard and leaking on his stomach and legs spread and resting on Dan’s own, his whole body primed and begging for more, begging for Dan, for whatever Dan will give him. If he couldn’t see the desire so clearly evident on Dan’s face, the way his eyes go over every inch of Phil’s body greedily, possessively, he might have felt embarrassed. But he could see it, and so the flush of his cheeks and the swirling in his stomach took a different shape, felt thrilling rather than distressing.

 Dan slicks two fingers carefully, rubbing the lube to warm it up before reaching between Phil’s legs to rub them against his hole. Phil opens his legs a little bit wider in invitation.

 Dan teases him, of course, because he’s still the little shit Phil fell in love with, rubbing little circles on his perineum, dipping down to tease at the puckered flesh of his rim, then moving back up to squeeze his balls.

 “Daaaan,” he whined softly.

 It works, apparently. Next thing he knows, he can feel Dan’s middle finger slipping slowly inside, slicked up and finding no resistance.

 “Mmh... yes,” the drag as the finger pulls out and then back in faster feels wonderful, but not nearly enough. “Give me ‘nother,” he demands quietly.

 “Mmm, like this?” Dan says lowly.

 Phil moans and tries to spread his legs even wider as Dan carefully pushes two fingers in next, then rotates them slowly once they’re all the way inside. Then he starts thrusting them in and out with purpose, and the movements send sharp spikes of pleasure up his back and down his legs. His eyes have closed without is permission, and soon enough he’s planted his feet firmly on the bed to push back on the fingers, lifting his hips and fucking himself on them, too turned on to hold himself back.

 “Hngh, hnn, ah, aaahh, Dan. I’m ready, come on, give me another,” he moans out, northern accent coming out in full force as it often does during sex.

 Dan huffs, and Phil forces his eyes open to look at him. He’s flushed and his eyes look a bit crazy, his jaw is slack and he’s breathing heavily and he looks like Phil’s wildest fantasies come to life.

 “You want another already?” he asks hoarsely.

 “Yesssss…”

 Instead of complying, he moves back and drops to the bed, chest on the sheets between Phil’s legs again. Before Phil can complain, he’s reaching for the lube again and coats three fingers liberally, then settles back. The push inside is even slower this time, Dan being overly careful not to hurt him. It gives Phil the time to track every stab of pleasure radiating from his core as Dan skillfully fingers him open. The drag over his prostate is noticeably stronger with three fingers, Phil writhes on the sheets and lifts his hips to grind down on Dan’s gloriously big fingers, his hands clutch the sheets on each side.

 “Fuck,” he feels more than hears Dan breathe into his skin, then he feels his sharp teeth biting down on the tender skin of his inner thighs, just hard enough that Phil knows he’ll leave teethmarks. Fuck, Phil loves it when Dan leaves marks on him. Dan releases the skin and places a long lick over it, tongue flat and smooth and warm. Then he pulls his fingers out completely and thrusts them back in abruptly, at the same time that he puts his mouth on Phil’s unmarked thigh and starts sucking.

 Phil’s body riots.

 “Dan. Dan. Fuuuck… Mmhhhh...” Phil voice is so whiny and breathless that Dan knows he must be close. The knowledge eggs him on, and he twists his fingers in roughly, taking in how easily Phil’s body opens for him, how wet and tight and warm he is inside, how prettily he moans for him.

 “Dan, wait, I’m-hnnm. Fuck, I’m too close.” Phil whines.

 “Don’t hold yourself back,” Dan says against the hickies he’s worked into the pale skin of Phil’s thighs. Phil makes a little noise of protest that only serves to fuel Dan’s desire to make him come undone under his fingers. Decision made, Dan pulls back to watch it happen.

 “But...”

 “Phil, I know I can make you come three times in one night in your thirties, I doubt you’ll have a problem to get it up again at 23.”

 Phil raises his head to stare at him at that, seemingly shocked for a second, mouth hanging open a bit. It only takes two seconds for the surprise to turn into heat, and he nods, clearly relishing that tidbit of knowledge.

 “You want my mouth?”

 Phil doesn’t answer. He just keeps grinding down on Dan’s fingers and looking up at him, and he thinks Dan must realise it too. He won’t need it.

 Phil comes with three of Dan’s fingers inside him, Dan’s thumb pressed firmly on his perineum and Dan’s eyes on him feeling almost like a physical presence all on their own.

 Dan keeps thrusting his fingers into him until Phil relaxes into the bed, then pulls them out gently. He cursorily wipes his fingers and lays down next to Phil to be close to him as he comes down. Phil likes feeling Dan’s warmth next to him, likes their arms and legs brushing as he comes down. He’s told Dan that it anchors him.

 Dan wraps one arm loosely around him and uses the time to cool himself down.

 When Phil can mostly breathe normally again, he reaches for Dan’s hand and weakly turns on his side, silently demanding that Dan spoon him. Dan readily complies, scooting Phil even closer and holding him tight against his chest.

 Dan’s arm across his chest feels wider than he’s used to, and surprisingly strong, a stark contrast to Phil’s boneless state.

 Phil lies there and basks in the afterglow, revels in the feeling of being surrounded by Dan. He feels small, but in a good way. Warm and safe and surrounded by this man he loves. Shielded from the world. Dan slides a leg between his and holds him a little tighter, places a little kiss on the back of his neck that makes his skin tingle a little.

 Phil’s mind is all over the place, the phantom sensation of Dan stretching him open coupled with the solid weight of Dan’s erection resting on his lower back mean that the heat is already faintly swirling in his lower stomach, but he’s too worn out for it take the shape of arousal yet. The precious certainty that Dan is his soulmate, that he really does feel this thing between them as strongly as he says he does, as sharply as Phil does, is still making his head spin a little. The sensory difference between being held by his Dan and being enveloped by the tangibly stronger arms of this older version of his boyfriend is resonating on some base part of his brain where all the embarrassing teenage fantasies of his youth are stored, the ones that came after the realisation that he liked men too; the ones he would sometimes get off to once he figured out how much the idea of being ravished by an older, bigger man turned him on; the ones that had him rutting into his sheets and moaning into his pillow in desperation as he learned how good it felt to have something inside him, anything, even his own fingers, but always made him feel weirdly ashamed and empty afterwards. He got over the misplaced shame with time, especially once he started dating boys in uni, but those fantasies of being held in place by strong hands, of being manhandled like he weighed nothing, of being taken and taken care of, still felt oddly taboo somehow, like something he shouldn’t talk about or ask for. Having it now, from Dan of all people, his soulmate, makes him feel a little overwhelmed.

 But it’s good. It’s so good Phil is heady with it.

 ***

 It takes a while for Phil to fully come down from it, time feel suspended in place for him, but eventually he emerges from the haze.

 Dan is placing little kisses over his shoulders, an unexpected contrast to the unabashedly sexual slide of his hard cock where he’s idly rubbing against the soft skin of Phil’s asscheeks. Phil pushes back lazily, baring his long neck to entice Dan to move his mouth there next. Dan moves slowly, leaving butterfly kisses all the way there and seeming reluctant to leave his shoulders. Phil is reminded of the many times Dan’s told him he loves the little freckles there.

 “Daaan,” Phil complains softly, trying to get him to move on to the more exciting part. How he has the wherewithal to move this slowly with as hard as he feels pressed against him and with everything they’ve done already, Phil has no idea.

 Dan chuckles into his shoulder, but he finally moves his wonderful, tantalizing mouth to nip and suck on Phil’s neck, so Phil can’t bring himself to scold him. A measured bite makes him moan breathlessly and wow, Dan knew what he was talking about because Phil sure won’t be having any issues getting it up a second time with the way things are going.

 “God, I love it when you’re like this,” Dan breathes directly into his ear. “All soft and pliant and desperate in my hands. I love you all sweet like this.”

 It makes Phil flush darker with want, with pride that he can make Dan sound like that.

 “You know how soft you sound when you’re like this? It drives me crazy,” he punctuates the words with a thrust that brings his cock between Phil’s cheeks and wrests a low moan from him as it slides smoothly between his legs. He’s still slick there from Dan’s fingers, still sensitive enough that when Dan’s cock rubs up past his hole and against his perineum he mewls a little.

 Then Dan is pulling away, pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him, swallowing the sound they both make at the feeling of skin on skin when Dan pulls them flush against each other. Phil clings to his back and brings his legs around him to keep him in place. The position has their cocks lining up and rubbing together deliciously, and the idea of Dan manhandling him to wherever he wants him should probably not make Phil this hot, but it does, and he’s well beyond the point where he might feel embarrassed by it.

 “Dan. Come on. Fuck me already.”

 “Mm, you sure? I could come like this, just rubbing against you,” Dan pulls back to hover over him to say it, and another sharp spike of desire spears through him as he looks up at the gorgeous man above him, his biceps are bulging on each side of Phil’s head where he’s leaning on them to hold himself up, his lips look shiny and puffed up, the little rosy patch he loves so much is on full display and his hair is a mussed up mess; all in all he looks like a fucking wet dream come true. Fuck, Phil cannot get over the curls.

 “Don’t you fucking dare, Daniel. I want you to fuck me into the mattress and I want it right the fuck now.” Phil surges up to catch his full lower lip between his teeth and pulls teasingly without breaking eye contact in a way he’s learnt makes Dan give in to him almost every time.

 Dan shoves him back into the sheets with the force of a kiss, and Phil knows he’s won. He’s surprised when he feels Dan’s fingers teasing his rim again, then slowly dipping inside, and he lets out a sigh.

 “Dan, I’m ready. I’m so ready,” his words slur as Dan thrusts another finger in, speeding up a bit, “Please, I’m so open for you, I want you,” he breaks off into a needy moan. When he opens his eyes, it’s to see Dan staring down at him hungrily, panting slightly with obvious desire.

 Dan did always love it when he talks dirty.

 “Come on. I’m spread open for you, you’ve stretched me so well, you can slide right in...”

 “Fuck,” Dan exhales. He’s looking down at Phil like he can’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Okay. Okay.” He pulls his fingers out belatedly and slicks himself up with trembling fingers. Phil feels like he’ll crawl out of his skin any moment now.

 “This position okay?” Dan asks, already positioning himself. He rubs the head of his cock deliciously around and over Phil’s stretched rim in a move that always makes Phil writhe a little in pleasure.

 “Yeah, I want to see you.” Phil likes looking at Dan and he likes the weight of Dan’s body pressing him into the bed. This is the position he’d have chosen if Dan had asked. He suspects Dan knows this.

 “Yeah,” Dan breathes out, then pushes in.

 The stretch is wider than three of his fingers, but Phil is so relaxed and so open that it doesn’t hurt at all. Instead, there’s only pleasure and emotion and intimacy.

 Dan stops once he bottoms out, by the way he’s breathing so heavily and biting his lip it looks like he’s trying to hold it together, and Phil suddenly feels so grateful that he’s come once already to take the edge off, because that means he gets to focus more on Dan now, he gets to watch him come apart without being distracted by his own pleasure. He runs his hands up Dan’s back soothingly and places a little kiss on his chin, rubbing one leg up and down Dan’s own in an intimate caress. The weight of Dan’s gaze on him feels disarming, it makes him feel known, and claimed. It makes him feel loved.

 Dan finally breaks the eye contact to kiss him, slow and deep and filthy, and that’s when he chooses to move. First a slow grind, slow circles of his hips that cause sparks to shoot off under Phil’s skin and his spine to curve in pleasure; then Dan is bracing himself on his forearms and he starts thrusting in and out in earnest, The shift in rhythm has Phil moaning and unlocking his legs from around Dan to spread them wider. He plants his feet on the mattress to gain enough leverage to move into the thrusts, but Dan’s solid weight on his chest means he doesn’t have much wiggle room, which of course is only setting his blood on fire faster. There’s no question that Dan knows what he’s doing here.

 Dan is letting out low, sustained moans with every thrust of his hips, and Phil can only clutch on to his shoulders and writhe with every slide of his cock, every sound from Dan’s lips. When Dan buries his face in his neck, his moans start reverberating on Phil’s jaw, adding to the mounting onslaught of near ecstasy. Dan’s shaking slightly, his moans start sounding more and more like the needy whines he makes when Phil gets him really worked up, it is the single hottest thing Phil’s ever heard bar none.

 “Dan,” Phil breathes out. “Are you close?” It’s not a real question, Phil knows he is.

 Dan whimpers, fucking whimpers, and Phil can feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed between their stomachs, fuck. “You feel so good,” Dan whispers into his neck desperately, hips never breaking their maddening pace. “Phil…”

 “Dan, come on, I want to feel you lose it. I want it. Please, come inside me.”

 The sounds Dan makes when he comes, the way he shakes in Phil’s arms and the intimate knowledge of what he’s feeling right now are nearly enough to tip him over the edge a second time. Nearly, but not quite. And so Dan comes, cock buried snugly inside him and body going rigid with almost overwhelming pleasure, and Phil holds him through it and through the aftershocks, until he’s too sensitive to stay inside. He pulls out, but he doesn’t move from where he’s laying on top of Phil, and he sighs contentedly when Phil starts petting his hair with one hand, the other wandering idly through his back.

 After a minute, Dan brings his head up to place a firm close-mouthed kiss straight on his lips, and he grins sleepily down at him, wide and dimpled and so beautiful Phil’s heart flips aggressively in his chest.

 He flops a bit to one side and reaches down to hold Phil in a loose fist, squeezing lightly to watch Phil buck into his hand with a moan.

 “Hmm, yeah,” Phil hums, turning to bury a hand in Dan’s hair and bring him closer for another kiss. “Just like this.”

 The second time he comes, it’s with Dan’s hand pumping his cock, Dan’s body pressed against him and Dan’s tongue inside his mouth.

 ***

 According to most religions, soulmates are divine will made manifest. In many cultures, reproduction is considered part of the natural cycle as well as the obligation of the proper citizen, and so individuals who discovered their soulmate to be of the same sex used to be encouraged to pursue a platonic relationship with their bonded and were historically often pressured either into heterosexual marriages or into monasteries and religious vows of celibacy.

The sexual revolution of the early 20th century put this harmful tradition to rest, and sex-same marriage has been legalised and is protected everywhere in the world by the turn of the millennia.

 ***

 Once they’ve worn themselves down, they settle down for some quality cuddling in bed. In their bed, Phil thinks, deliriously happy. In their house where they live in together. All the time.

 Phil wiggles a little, trying to snuggle even closer into Dan’s chest before subsiding. Without much thought, Dan drags his hand slowly up and down Phil’s naked back in a practised caress.

 “Hmm… that’s nice.” Phil mumbles into his neck.

 “Yeah, it is.” Dan answers softly. After a few comfy seconds of silence, he adds, “I like petting you”. He’s pushing it a little, but he thinks it’ll be fine. Good, even.

 Phil giggles a bit nervously. “That’s weird,” he says, but he doesn’t sound bothered. Dan knew he wouldn’t be.

 “You taught me to embrace weird, years ago.” He places a tiny kiss on Phil’s head. In gratitude.

 Phil just holds on tighter. At the love apparent in Dan’s soft voice, the adoration he engraves on Phil’s skin with every touch. At the reference he’d made, no doubt knowing Phil couldn’t, wouldn’t miss it.

 Phil is weird. He’d always been weird. He’d come to terms with it, had come to appreciate it, even. It is good for creative endeavours, and he’s aiming for a creative profession. On the really good days, with the really good people, he’s come to celebrate it.

 Dan is one of the good people. The best people. Person. Dan is the best person in the world.

 ***

 Phil inspects the toiletries, hair still damp from the shower. "Which one's mine?" He’s taken off his contacts to alleviate the strain on his eyes. It turns out keeping your contacts in through interdimensional time travel and then crying with them on several times in one afternoon tends to cause a slight irritation to the cornea. Who knew.

"The green one," Dan points it out in the line of products arranged neatly on the bathroom cabinet.

Phil sprays the cologne in front of his face so he can smell it. It smells fresh and summery, like freshly cut grass or the open air of the forest.

"And that blue one is yours?"

"Got it in one."

Phil smells that one as well. Still fresh but a tad heavier. Woodsy and with the hint of something fruity? It’s fresh but homier. It’s no contest, really. He likes the idea of smelling like Dan too much to resist picking his.

Dan watches him spray it with a little smile.

“You picked it for me.”

“Oh?”

Dan shakes his head amusedly. “You’re the one with the prodigious sense of smell. I can barely make out the scent, but you really liked it. Apparently, you think it suits me.”

Phil brings the little glass bottle back in front of his face to breathe it in again. He rather loves it. He wonders which came first: does he love it because he already recognises it as Dan’s scent, or did he pick it for Dan because he loved it?

As he applies some on himself, he decides it doesn’t really matter either way.

***

 The jump remains partly locked in the jumper's subconscious once they return to their present day. Whatever they learn stays with them as vague certainties, but if they should try to trace back their certainty to its source they will often not be able to access the memories in question. The entire experience remains, but only the most general outline and a few details will be easily accessible by the conscious mind. Often, the clearest memories will be sensory: a pungent smell, a surprising sound, the feeling of one’s soulmate’s touch on one’s skin; other than that, the prevailing memories are vague impressions: the feeling of comfort and of being loved are the most common.

***

 After basic hygiene is taken care of, Dan turns his attention to the next basic need on the list.

 “Come on, I’ll feed you.”

 He puts on an oversized sweater to brave the cold of the kitchen and gives Phil his Sexual Fantasies sweater, which has Phil raising an eyebrow at him, “What? You are a sexual fantasy,” Dan jokes.

 Phil snorts but begins to put it on anyway. “Only for you.”

 Dan shakes his head, amused. “For a lot of people, actually. I’m lucky I locked you in early on.”

 Phil looks at him, but doesn’t say anything about that. He seems to be processing the idea. Dan can’t imagine why he’d have trouble believing it, he remembers how many people were after him around the time they got together, and the number only kept growing with time.

 “This is yours, isn’t it?”

 “Yeah,” Dan confirms. “It’ll keep you warm. And I’ve always loved seeing you in my clothes.”

 Phil grins at him, tongue poking out between his teeth in that way of his that still makes Dan’s heart flutter in his chest. God, how did he get this lucky?

 “Still possessive, then?”

 “Always.” Dan grins back. “I got better with the jealousy thing, though.” He turns to the closet to look for something for their feet. The floor of the kitchen is cold af in early February. “Uh, took a while.”

 Phil is laughing at the confession. He’s never minded that. Thought it was cute so long as Dan didn’t become openly rude, which hardly ever happened, thankfully. Good manners and etiquette generally won out even in his worse jealous episodes. This meant that he seethed in silence, maybe glared a little, and later, when they were alone, Phil could indulge his possessive streak by acceding to having mindblowing sex and taking the initiative to remind Dan how much he loves him a bit more frequently than usual for the next few days. Win/win.

 Dan finds what he’s looking for and turns around, handing Phil a pair of the Dil bunny slippers, and dropping another for himself.

 “What are those?” Phil says when he sees them, and Dan trips on the completely unexpected meme and barely avoids falling flat on his face by holding on to Phil’s arm. He’s laughing so hard he can’t even catch his breath to explain why he’s laughing, and Phil’s adorably confused face only makes him laugh harder.

 Once he can speak again, Dan explains they’re Sims merch (and purposefully doesn’t say they’re their merch), which makes Phil huff and ask what’s so funny about that.

 “It’s not that, what you said - it’s a meme. An internet joke-”

 “I know what a meme is, Dan, I’m an internet person.”

 Dan laughs again at that. “Yeah, okay. It’s just, memes evolve a lot in ten years. I don’t know if I should show it to you, probably not.” There are rules in place, after all, and for good reason. “The phrase is from, like, a viral video. It was just really unexpected to hear that from you, since you don’t even know the original meme. It was funny.”

 Phil is smiling at him, which still, after all these years, makes Dan smile back at him automatically, but he’s also rolling his eyes and that makes Dan want to wrap his arms around him and squeeze. So he does. Phil squeezes back, as he always has, from that first time they hugged in a Manchester train station, roughly a decade ago. Well, a decade ago for Dan anyway.

 They eventually let go of each other, and Phil stares at him for a few seconds before breaking the silence.

 “Okay, I was promised food.”

                                              [art by @jorzuela]

***

 Phil laughs himself silly the first time he sees the ‘What are those?’ vine. His first instinct is to send it to Dan (who is upstairs), but he can’t quite stop laughing long enough to forward it. Dan follows the wheezing sound to find Phil doubled over on the computer chair, grabbing his sides which ache from the unrelenting laughter as actual tears fall from his eyes. He makes Dan watch the vine and, when asked, he can’t explain why he finds it so funny, he just does.

 Dan shakes his head at him, amused. He’s grinning wide enough that he’s got little crinkles around his eyes. The sight makes something in Phil’s chest clench. He loves that sight: Dan, unreservedly, unambiguously happy,

 Phil appears to be having one of those really sappy days, for some reason. Thankfully, going by the fondness in Dan’s expression when faced with Phil’s inexplicable whims, he seems happy enough to indulge him.

 Phil can’t believe he got so lucky sometimes.

 ***

 To accommodate for the jump, it is illegal to compel jumpers to fill in for their future self at work or work-related events.

 No one knows where people go for the duration of their younger self’s jump, but they disappear for that time and appear again when the jump is over with perfect memories of the event.

  Jumpers don’t lose any time, they go forward into the future, then come back to the point in time they left.

 ***

 Phil sits cross legged over the counter while Dan prepares a simple but filling meal for them both. “The better to watch you slave over for me,” he joked after hopping on. He’s wearing an old pair of his older counterpart’s glasses, since 2019 Phil’s prescription is too strong for him, and they keep slipping down his nose. Dan keeps getting distracted by him, this boy he fell in love with and built a life with; they keep staring at each other and smiling like idiots. It’s kind of ridiculous, but they’re alone in the safety of their home, so Dan doesn’t care if he’s a soft fool.

 Dan can see the second Phil starts gearing up to ask something, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s so familiar with all of this man’s inner workings, all his ticks and habits and thoughts, that he is not surprised when he turns off the heat, meal properly cooked, and hears Phil voice the question that’s been going around in his head probably since he arrived here.

 “We’re happy, aren’t we?”

 His voice is so soft, so hesitant... the question feels like a physical grip around Dan’s heart.

 Dan turns to face him with an expression that he knows their fans would deem a particularly soft Heart Eyes Howell. He can’t help it and frankly, he stopped trying many, many years ago.

 “Yeah…”

 Phil looks like he’ll start crying again any second, and Dan is not much better. Dan's the one with a reputation of crying easily, and not without cause. All things considered, he thinks he's done reasonably well with this whole experience. He takes a deep breath to smother the urge now; he wants to talk about this. He needs to tell Phil.

 “We’re actually the happiest we’ve ever been, and we’ve never been… it’s never been bad. There were things, external things, that put a damper on… things, sometimes. But nothing too bad, and it was never about us, as a couple, you know? External problems and personal problems unrelated to who we are together… And through all of it, we were happy together.”

 Phil bites his lip and nods. He’s losing the battle with his tears, so he pulls the glasses off to rest them on the counter. He looks so small in Dan’s enormous sweater, he’s dabbing at the tears with sweater paws, and Dan suddenly can’t stand to not be touching him. He crosses the space between them in two big strides and grabs Phil’s hips to gently scoot him to the edge of the counter, so that he can hold him properly, and Phil uncrosses his legs and clings to him the second Dan nestles between them, burying his face in Dan’s neck and his hands on his back.

 They stay like that for a long time, clinging to each other and running hands through hair, up and down each other’s back, sides, arms.

 After an insurmountable amount of time - neither one could have guessed how long it was - Phil straightens a bit where he sits but without letting go of where he’s wrapped all around Dan, and whispers into his neck, “I used to worry that I’d never find someone”. It makes Dan’s heart clench, makes him start crying again, and he squeezes Phil harder against his chest. “Before you. Before we met,” Phil continues, and he sounds calmer. Dan is anything but.

 He pulls back, gently, and waits until Dan loosens his grip enough so that he can move back to face him. Phil wipes Dan’s cheeks and the expression on his face is filled with so much love and devotion that Dan can’t help the tears that keep falling.

 “I love you so much,” Phil rasps, this time directly against his lips, hands framing Dan’s face. His thumbs are gently caressing his cheeks, moving with the line of his cheekbone and under his eyes, wiping the tears straight from the source. “I’m so glad you found me,” the whisper ends in a small choked laugh, strangled by the sheer understatement and the high emotions of the tender moment they’re sharing.

 It takes Dan a few minutes to calm down, he’s so filled with love for this man he feels he’s going to rupture from it. These feelings are surely too large, too momentous to be contained in a human body.

 By the time they disentangle - well, relatively, they still want to be as close as they can - they need to reheat their meal.

 ***

 People who had no soulmate used to be regarded with suspicion and mistrust once they reached a certain age, the assumption being that they must have a soulmate that they were concealing due to the match being socially disadvantageous or even disreputable.

  Patriarchal values being what they are, this suspicion was mostly levelled at women, but men had to be careful about keeping appearances as well, especially if they wanted to be in the public eye.

 ***

 After eating, they spend hours talking. They keep touching each other; in little ways, but there’s no single way they haven’t touched each other at some point in time throughout their history. It would feel unnatural not to do it now.

 The finally decide to call it a night when Dan catches Phil yawning for the fifth time in as many minutes. He opens his mouth wide in a big yawn, belatedly bringing his hand to cover it politely. The way he blinks after, as if the sleepiness crept up on him and caught him by surprise, is the cutest fucking thing and Dan wishes he had caught that on video. He really needs to start taking pictures for posterity.

 They go to bed for the night. It’s relatively early for what both of them are used to, but they are physically and emotionally drained and both of them want nothing more than to get some rest and some cuddles

 They mean to turn in immediately, maybe talk a bit more as they lay wrapped all over each other in their bed, but snuggling and talking turns into kissing turns into wandering hands turns into sucking into necks and rutting against each other and mutual blowjobs which finally tire them enough that they fall asleep loosely holding each other.

***

 The next morning they’re happy to wake up to each other. They don’t quite want this to be over yet.

 They sit down on the sofa to eat breakfast, legs entwined and far too close, and chat about nothing of importance for a bit.

 “-for... the… project we’re working on that I shouldn’t tell you about. Shit. I’m bad at keeping things from you.”

 Phil laughs and says nothing about all the little hints he keeps picking up on from Dan’s words, from his actions, from their home. They are small enough that it shouldn’t matter anyway, and he’s reassured by the abundant evidence that they are happy and successful, that they are working together and living together and have built a life together where they can be everything they once dreamed of.

 Once they’re finished, they put the dishes away to deal with later and lay back on the sofa to laze the rest of the morning away. Phil grins when Dan immediately pulls him in to lie on top of him as they flop down. Dan has always been warm and caring, but Phil has always been the one with the insatiable need for physical closeness, and so he is used to being the one to initiate it. Except when Dan is feeling amorous, or particularly sentimental. Or when he’s jealous. The thought puts a devious little smile on his face. Dan mentioned it the previous day, but he wants to hear more about it  

 “So you still get possessive?” Phil brings up the subject again in hopes of hearing more, lifting his head from where it was resting on the place where Dan’s chest meets his collarbones so that he can stare at Dan’s older face a bit more. He’s still so beautiful.

 “Look. I warned you about that very early on, before we physically met, even. You knew about that going in,” he sounds mock defensive, but the amusement shines through on his expression. He’s still feeling high on this whole experience. It’s like his brain decided to make up for all those years of serotonin deficiency by producing its entire accumulated deficit all at once on this single day. Or maybe Dan is so in love that he’s delirious with it and drawing weird metaphors in his head is the only way his brain can cope.

 Phil rests his chin exactly between Dan’s clavicles and hums.

 “It’s a character flaw, but it’s a character flaw you were aware of, and you never once discouraged it.”

 “Mmmhh… I may enjoy it slightly.”

 Dan laughs breathlessly.

 “I got better at it, though.” Phil is momentarily distracted by Dan’s big, soft hands running up his back and lingering, before retracing their path down to his ass. Phil loses his train of thought completely when he feels the hands cup his ass and squeeze. Phil pushes back and squirms a little.

Dan is looking straight at him, and Phil still isn’t used to it, to the intensity of Dan’s eyes on him, the open adoration he can read there. It makes him blush and squirm in an entirely different way, though not an unwelcome one.

 He still blushes when his Dan catches him off guard sometimes. Like that time Dan had been staying with him and Phil forgot to bring an extra towel when he took a shower, and he had to go back into his room with only one towel wrapped around his waist despite the cold. Dan had stared so intently at him Phil had felt stupidly self-conscious until Dan got up from where he’d been browsing Phil’s laptop on the bed, shoved him against the wall and kissed him until Phil forgot what self-consciousness felt like. When Dan dropped to his knees in front of him, Phil had had to lean against the wall for fear of falling down, he’d never felt weak with lust before. Not like that. Not like his entire being was going to vibrate out of his skin in excitement. Dan hadn’t believed him when he told him, afterwards, that he’d honestly just forgotten to replace the towels. He was convinced Phil had been seducing him. He’d rolled his eyes at Phil’s denial. “It worked.”

 Phil couldn’t believe it, sometimes. How much and how badly Dan wanted him. And that was his Dan; skinny, awkward, teenaged Dan, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that all Phil could do sometimes was bite him because he had to get rid of all the nervous energy somehow. Clever, articulate, 19-year-old Dan who seemed more of an adult than Phil sometimes; who would wonder about life’s big questions and their place in the universe one moment and would be matching Phil’s childlike delight at their shared nerdy interests the next. His Dan, who could talk up a storm, but who was always, always, so interested in anything Phil had to say, no matter how childish or weird or nerdy or silly. Phil was still coming to grips with being loved by that Dan, his Dan, so to be facing this older version was understandably wrecking his composure a little.

 This man who held him so tenderly, who still looked at him as if Phil was all he’d ever need, this man who still touched him like he was precious, like he was blessed just to be able to touch him; this man who looked grown and confident and self-assured in a way his Dan only sometimes managed. This man who was somehow the most beautiful person he’d ever seen yet not, because that was a description reserved for his Dan, but this was who his Dan would grow into, so it probably doesn’t matter that Phil can’t figure that out.

 Phil is still a bit awed that he’d ended up with this gorgeous, loving, lovely creature, that he had somehow built a home with him, and that a full decade later he’d still get to have this: these looks of wonder, this tenderness, this love. Phil can read his Dan on this man’s features, and that is the most awe-inspiring part of it all.

 ***

 “Oh, it’s snowing!” Phil exclaims, visibly excited.

 Dan turns to the window and, indeed, there’s snow falling down and getting stuck on the edge of their windowsill. “Huh. Let’s go outside,” Dan proposes spontaneously, an idea taking shape in his mind’s eye. “We can make hot cocoa. We have instant, so it’ll only take a couple minutes.”

 Phil takes his eyes off the window to turn a confused look to Dan. He has the cutest little frown, Dan can feel himself smiling like the besotted fool he is.

 “Shouldn’t we stay inside? Uh, avoid people and such?”

 “Oh, yeah. I meant outside as in ‘our own patio’, not outside as in ‘the street.’”

 “Oh, we have a patio?” He turns to watch the snow through their living room window again. “Let’s do it.”

 Dan takes his hand and drags him into the kitchen to heat the water and find the mixing powder. He points to their hall closet and tells Phil to pick a coat while he makes their drinks, and as soon as Phil is distracted perusing their selection of coats Dan is sneaking a bag of mini marshmallows into his sweater’s pocket.

 “The drinks are done,” he calls into the hall.

 Phil reappears wearing his blue winter coat and holding one of Dan’s. “I figured the black ones were yours,” his voice tilts at the end as if asking for confirmation, but his little smile tells Dan he already knows the answer.

 “Yeah,” Dan confirms anyway. He bundles up, takes the steaming mugs of chocolatey goodness in both hands, and leads the way to their patio doors.

***

 It’s still snowing by the time they make it outside, thankfully.

 Dan places the cups on the little round patio table that’s right under their balcony. That should keep them safe from the snow.

 “You want to take a picture?” Phil asks when he sees Dan open the camera app on his phone.

 “I want to take 12 billion pictures, are you kidding me?” Dan wraps his right arm around Phil’s waist and squeezes lightly. “If that’s okay with you? We don’t have to, I’d just like the physical reminder.”

 “Of course. Why would I mind?”

 Dan shrugs. No harm in making sure.

 They posed for a few selfies (a few dozen, really, but that was due to Dan taking so many in quick succession). Dan’s favourite photo would turn out to be from when Phil turned to kiss his cheek and the camera captured Dan’s mild surprise, which quickly turned into a wide smile.

 Of course, Phil had then licked Dan’s dimple, making Dan shriek and break out in giggles while Phil laughed into his cheek.

 Dan’s second favourite would be the one he snapped of Phil with his mouth open mid-exclamation and both hands wrapped firmly around his mug as Dan dropped a handful of the mini marshmallows he’d smuggled outside into Phil’s cup right before Phil took the first sip of his hot chocolate.

***

 Another detour to the bedroom leaves them boneless and sweaty and reminiscing on their first time together.

 “God, I was so nervous.”

 “Yeah,” Dan smiles impossibly wide at the memory. “It made me feel so much better.”

 Phil sputters out a laugh at the unexpected admission, “Better? If anything, it should have made you feel more nervous, too!”

 “Nope.” Dan flicks his glabella gently, an old habit. “It made me so much more confident.”

 “You are so weird,” Phil faux-complains, visibly fond. Dan rolls his eyes at him, but he isn’t any less enamoured.

 “You’d had sex with men before. You clearly knew what you were doing.” Dan shuffles a bit and resettles so that he can look Phil in the eye. “You touched me like you knew my body already.” A short pause when he seems to reconsider his words. “Well, that’s what it felt like, anyway. I know what that’s actually like now. But it felt like it; like you could play my body like a master violinist with a Tchaikovsky piece.” The reference gets Dan an eyeroll. God, Dan loves it when Phil gets sassy. It gets him hot and bothered at the most inappropriate times. It’s a problem.  

 “My point is: you weren’t nervous because of the sex, you had that down.”  His voice gets softer as he remembers a much younger Phil hovering over him, kissing him until Dan forgot to be nervous, or scared, or self-conscious. He remembers pulling back from the kiss to breathe, he’d never felt so wonderfully consumed by another person, he’d wanted to drown in this man. Then Phil had asked Dan if he was sure, again, told him to stop him if he changed his mind, or if he wanted to slow down, or if Phil did anything he didn’t like, and Dan realised for the first time since they’d kissed and officially become a thing that Phil was still nervous. He was babbling, and his hands were shaking, Dan had been too distracted by the feeling of Phil’s tongue in his mouth, Phil’s hands on him, Phil’s chest against him, pressing him against Phil’s bed, Phil on top of him holy shit, to notice that Phil was terrified.

 “Well, kind of, I guess. I was a little nervous about the sex, too. I wanted to make it good for you.”

 “You did,” Dan interjects.

 “But I was really nervous,” Phil mock glares at him, and Dan discreetly writhes against him a little. Phil’s eyes are laughing at him, so Dan guesses he wasn’t that discreet after all. Oh, well. Phil knows what those looks do to him, that was basically his fault.

 “I was nervous,” Phil continues with a softer voice, “because I was falling in love with you, and I had no idea how to deal with it. I’d never felt anything like that for anyone before. You know that.”

 “Yeah. That’s why.”

 “Hm?”

 “That’s why I felt better. It made me realise I wasn’t alone in that. So of course it made me more confident.”

 Phil shakes his head at him, smiling. “Did you seriously not know that already?”

 Dan bites his lip, but he‘s smiling; Phil stares at his dimples. He always stares at Dan’s dimples. He’d never get enough of them. Of Dan. “I’d hoped,” Dan says simply.

 “Who could resist you, Howell?”

 Dan actually chuckles at that. “Most people?”

 “Fools,” Phil declares with conviction. “Heathens.”

 “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not interested in any of them,” Dan assures him, sneaking his hand under Phil’s arm to stroke his back.

 “Mmhhh…” Phil lays back against Dan’s chest and makes a triumphant, happy sound. “...damn right.”

***

 Ancestral knowledge has warned us about the dangers of disclosing too much information about the future, even with the built-in failsafes that nature has wisely provided us with (i.e. the temporary blurring of the memories). As some details can survive the jump back, it is strongly encouraged that the future half of the bonded pair resist the temptation to divulge too much. Anecdotal evidence from times immemorial consistently shows that instances where too much information about the future is retained by the jumper, said information will invariably lead to negative effects in the jumper's life whenever they try to use that information as guidance.

 ***

 “Don’t look!” Dan yelled from where he was apparently hiding a bunch of board games from Phil.

 “I already said I wouldn’t!” Phil, studiously looking the other way, rolled his eyes. He’d been excited when Dan proposed playing some board games, and even more excited when he saw the tall cabinet filled to the brim with so many of them. He’d been less impressed when Dan screeched and forcibly turned him around with wide eyes.

 “Wait. Shit. There’s a couple games you maybe shouldn’t see. To be safe.”

 Phil thought it was overkill, but Dan was the type to worry about things like that, and Phil didn’t really mind, so he went with it. Although he really couldn’t see how getting a sneak peek into the board games that would be coming out in the next few years might classify as too much information about the future.

 “Alright, crisis averted!” Dan pronounced like the utter drama queen he could be when the mood struck him, and Phil turned to face him again. “Now, which one of these perfectly familiar board games which totally exist in 2010 would you like to play?”

***

 “Do you want to film a video?” Dan finally asks on their second night together. He’s been turning the idea around in his head. “Not to upload, just for us, I mean. We could play a game, or ask each other questions, or… I don’t know, do whatever you want.”

 Phil lights up both at the suggestion and the information Dan’s let slip without even noticing. So they were still making videos to upload on the internet.

 “Yes! Let’s!”

 Dan grins back and him and leads him to their room to get the camera.

***

 The entirety of the jump experience is ‘unlocked’ upon the jumper naturally reaching the point in time to which they jumped. The memories cristallise at this time and can from this point forward be recalled with perfect clarity for the remainder of the person’s life.

*** 

 Dan only looks away for a moment, but that was enough. When he looks back, it’s over, and Dan turns to find the current version of Phil standing right where the 23-year-old had been a mere moment ago.

 Dan smiles, equally happy to see any version of Phil now that he has ample photographic and video evidence of Phil’s jump to relish and treasure forever. “Welcome back.”

 Phil grins brightly at him. “You were so good,” he says softly. His voice has taken that particular tender quality that Dan has only occasionally been able to bring out in him when he’s made really big or really dumb romantic gestures. Having just got through his jump probably justifies it coming out now.

 Dan bites his lip through his own grin. “Yeah?”

 “Did younger me tire you out? Because I have a mighty need, suddenly, to show you how much I appreciate how good you were...” He trails off and waggles his eyebrows with exaggerated vigor, like the absolute nerd he is. That makes them both laugh giddily, a bit drunk on the intensity of the whole experience.

 “I am pretty tired… but you’re worth the extra effort.”

 Phil giggles at his big, silly, wonderful dork of a partner, his soulmate, tongue poking out in that way that Dan has told him a million times is endearing don’t you dare stop doing it, Lester, don’t you fucking dare.

 “Sap,” Phil accuses with a sappy smile of his own.

 “Lies and slander, I am but the cold, empty reflection of the unfeeling void.”

 Phil laughs in his face, takes his hand in his, and leads him to their room.

                                              [art by @jorzuela]

[sincerefakeahcau]

It wasn’t easy being a teenager. Even less so being a short, gymnast who was openly gay in a not so nice area. But Jeremy was used to it, after all this was the life he had lived for the past eighteen years and it will get better right?

The phrase was a mantra in his head as he tried to ignore the hand of Michael, a roided, should be graduated, twenty year old who seemed to think Jeremy was his punching bag, even though being a gymnast gave him a strength he rarely showed. He only had to make it through the year and then he would graduate, seven and a half months until he wasn’t a walking punching bag to idiots anymore. I’m

“What are you gonna do squirt? Find a real man to take care of you like the little bitch you are.”

Despite knowing he shouldn’t Jeremy snaps not caring for his own safety for a moment.

“If you don’t leave me alone I’m going to fuck your dad.”

Michael’s face grows purple and he shoves Jeremy again before walking off with his group of minions, brainless roided bodies the group of them.

“Would you really?”

That’s Gavin, Jeremy’s best friend who was a foreign exchange student from England, staying with the family next door.

“I mean... have you seen his dad?”

Jeremy raises his eyebrows a smirk falling onto his face and Gavin just chuckles before wrapping an arm around the shorter boy.

“One of these days your mouth is gonna get you in trouble.”

“One of these days? As if it hasn’t already.”

“True.... now show me a picture of his dad.”

“What?”

“If he made a son that looks like that he’s got to be attractive. Stupid as hell but attractive.”

“Gavin he was a model. But now he works with computers. I think he’s hot and smart.”

Jeremy pulls up Instagram, opening it to the mans page and when Gavin sees it he nods in agreement.

“He’s your type. Tall, bearded, dad. Now again would you really fuck him just to get back to Michael?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Or maybe just cause he’s hot and smart and he is my type.”

“Have you ever met him in person Jeremy. Also he’s obviously straight, after all he is Michael’s dad. Speaking of what about his mom?”

“I don’t think they are together because he posted on Mother’s Day and was like ‘while it wasn’t magic for us you gave me the best gift ever. Thanks for being the best mom to our son.’ And look at this picture and tell me he’s straight Gavin. Look at it.”

“Mr. Dooley!”

Hearing the voice of his math teacher he looks up and realizes that his entire class is looking at him, and he’s looking at his phone.

“Sorry.”

“What was so interesting on your phone that you just had to show Mr. Free in the middle of my class?”

“Nothing.”

“Than maybe you should put it away.”

“Yes sir.”

He puts his phone away and motions to Gavin that he’ll show him later. Math class finally ends and Jeremy pulls his phone right back out showing showing Gavin the picture he had been trying to show him before.

“Maybe he’s just a really into himself straight man.”

“I doubt it. But I’ve never met him so like will it matter honestly? I’ll just admire him from afar.”

“I vote you slide into his DMs.”

“But...”

“Jeremy I say you shoot your shot. You are amazing and confident and of the legal age of 18. So why not.”

“What if he’s not gay?”

“So? It never hurts to ask. Besides how can you tell Michael you would fuck his dad and then not even try to follow through.”

“So you’re saying if nothing else I should try because I could hold it over Michael.”

“Yes. But also like you said he is hot and hopefully smart. And if he is smart he’ll get it.”

Jeremy bites his lip before looking at his phone and clicking the paper airplane to send him a message. He debates for a second before just sending a simple hi and then puts his phone in his pocket.

“I want to die.”

“I could help with that.”

Hearing Michael’s voice Jeremy is instantly glad about his decision. He doesn’t respond instead just sending Gavin a small smirk ignoring the boy. The rest of the school day passes uneventfully and when he and Gavin walk to his car to drive home he pulls his phone out. He stops his walk at the notification that he had a message back from Michael’s dad.

“Jeremy?”

“He messaged me back.”

“WHAT DOES IT SAY!”

Gavin is too loud and multiple people stop to stare at the pair, if either was easily embarrassed they would be red, but they weren’t. Jeremy just rolls his eyes continuing their walk and once they are in his car he speaks.

“I mean I haven’t looked yet Gav. I was just shocked he actually opened my message to begin with.”

“So open it.”

Jeremy bites his lip as he stares at the notification on his phone before doing just that, opening the message. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but the hello handsome that greeted him was a happy surprise.

“He called me handsome Gav.”

“Huh maybe he is gay after all.”

“Seriously that’s your one thought?”

“No but I think you should keep it going. But I would make sure he knows you are younger.”

“Yea... I wonder how old he is. I mean Michael’s 20.”

“Talk to him a bit more and then just mention your age and be like I hope someone as worldly as you doesn’t mind talking to me. Maybe he’ll tell you then.”

The next few weeks pass with Jeremy casually messaging Michael’s dad, Ryan he should call him he supposed. They had talked about a lot, including age, Ryan was 36 twice Jeremy’s age but that wasn’t a deterrent. And then he opens his phone one morning to a text from Ryan, they had exchanged numbers after a week.

So how about a real date tonight?

Jeremy just stares before running from his house next door and knocking on the door, knowing Gavin would be home but the others probably wouldn’t.

“Jeremy?”

Gavin was still half asleep, not surprising the boy would miss school like daily if not for Jeremy making him be on time.

“Gavin he asked me if I wanted to go on a date tonight.”

That wakes Gavin up fully and he opens the door letting Jeremy in.

“So?”

“What do I do?”

“Jeremy you’ve been chatting with him for weeks, you told me you like him a lot, and for more than just his looks. You go on a fucking date with him.”

“But.”

“But what Jeremy.”

“What if he expects something different than me?”

“I doubt it. Tell him yes, ask when and where and then let’s get you ready.”

Jeremy lets out a little breath but responds to the message.

I’d like that. Where are we going and when?

He pauses for a moment wondering if that’s the proper response when he gets a reply almost instantly.

I can’t tell you where it’s a surprise. But dress casually. And I’ll pick you up at 6.

“He says dress casually.”

“Ask how casual. Because you and I have a different idea of casual and you want to make sure.”

Knowing that what Gavin says is true he pauses before sending a new message.

How casual is casual?

He watches as he gets three dots pulled up as Ryan responds.

Maybe not a T-shirt but jeans and a nice shirt would work. Can’t wait to see you.

And now he is flushing slightly Jesus Christ how was this man doing this to him.

Can’t wait to see you either. x

The x at the end was a bit bold but he couldn’t help it he was actually stoked for his date. He heads back to his house. After all he had almost ten hours until his date and he was hungry and needed to shower and go through all his clothes. Five thirty rolls around and he’s dressed and ready to go, his parents had wondered where he was going but when he said out with a friend they just assumed it was someone from school and let it go. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans cuffed at the bottom with a light blue button up and a pair of white sneakers. He’s nervous but ready, it wasn’t his first date with an older man his last boyfriend was 25 to his then 17 almost 18. He gets lost in his thoughts h til the doorbell rings and then he jumps from his seat wanting to make sure his parents don’t answer the door. When he spots Ryan standing there looking very much like the model he used to be in a black button up with a pair of jeans and sneakers his heart starts to beat a bit faster.

“Hi Jeremy.”

His voice is deeper than Jeremy had thought it would be and timber causes his body to warm.

“Hi Ryan.”

“So do I need to talk to your parents.”

“No.”

The word comes quickly as Jeremy sets outside having grabbed a jacket from behind the door as he left.

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

Ryan’s question catches Jeremy off guard for a second and then he answers truthfully.

“No I’m embarrassed by them. They aren’t the most traditional parents and I try not to scare off the men I like before we’ve had an actual date by introducing them to my parents.”

“But I will get introduced?”

“I promise. Eventually you will. Once I’m certain they won’t scare you off.”

“And it has nothing to do with me being twice your age?”

“God no. My last boyfriend was eight years older than me. They know I like older. And they don’t mind. My dad is fifteen years older than my mom.”

By now they are in Ryan’s car and driving to their date spot and Jeremy has slightly relaxed. When they pull up to a building Jeremy’s never seen before he looks at Ryan.

“I hope you like Italian. I would have picked something else but I wanted it to be somewhere you hadn’t been before and few people have been here.”

“I love Italian and I have never been here you are right.”

“Good.”

The smile that breaks across Ryan’s face makes Jeremy’s heart swell a bit. After they have ordered and are waiting Ryan asks the question Jeremy had been expecting from the moment they started talking.

“So how did you even find my Instagram?”

“Well... I go to school with Michael. And he posted something with you in it a while ago. And I saw and clicked your screen name and instantly attracted to you so I followed you. But I was like 16 at the time? And then I got a boyfriend and I kind of just would occasionally like something you posted that I liked. You posted a picture of a view with some beautiful cherry blossoms one day and I wished I could see the cherry blossoms so I liked that. And then I broke up with the boyfriend after like 5 months? And just kinda stayed single. And I turned 18 and didn’t think you were attracted to men. So I didn’t think I had a chance or anything. But then I mentioned you to my best friend and he told me I should at least try. So I said hi and you know the rest.”

“Is it weird to you that you go to school with my son?”

“Is it weird for you? I’m not worried about it. And if I didn’t I would never have even met you so I’m kinda glad I do.”

“Me too.”

Their date continues with the pair talking about any and everything and then Ryan drives them to a small cafe.

“I don’t really like coffee but I don’t want this to end and I was hoping you would want to chat a bit longer.”

“I don’t like coffee either. Well I’ll drink it occasionally but it’s bitter so I tend not to but I absolutely want to keep chatting.”

And chat they do, for hours their conversation continues, past closing time of the cafe and into the early morning hours before Ryan makes his way back to Jeremy’s house.

“I had a great time. I’d really like to do this again.”

“Me too.”

Jeremy bites his lip as his eyes meet Ryan’s. They were parked out front of Jeremy’s house and Ryan pauses for a second before leaning across the center console and placing a kiss to the younger mans lips.

“So after I meet your parents I’ll take you to see the cherry blossoms.”

“After?”

“Well I figure if we are going to go to Japan together I should at least try and reassure them I’m not going to kill you there.”

“Japan?!”

“While Washington D.C. has beautiful cherry blossoms, that’s where that picture was from, Japan’s are even better. But don’t worry they don’t bloom til the new year so we have a few months.”

“But I have school.”

“Spring break is in March right?”

“Yea.”

“We can go then. But I’ve got to meet your parents first. They will be beautiful then and look amazing with your handsomeness.”

“March is a while away.”

“All the more time to get to know you better.”

Five months to be exact, and he doesn’t see how Ryan could put up with him for five months, his last boyfriend hadn’t ending it stating that Jeremy was too needy, too annoying, and too young.

October passes with little event, they went out on three more dates before Ryan had looked at Jeremy and told him he was so glad they were boyfriends. Jeremy had been wondering about their relationship but hadn’t wanted to bring it up so hearing that made his heart soar. And the following dates always lasted for hours, with the pair cuddling and kissing and just happy to be together.

November starts with Jeremy’s parents asking about his new boyfriend and if he’s like to come to Thanksgiving dinner. Jeremy asks Ryan but unfortunately the older man is unable to come, he had promised his own parents he would go home since Michael was with his mom for the holiday this year. They make plans to meet up for dinner before hand though and by some grace of god Jeremy’s parents don’t completely ruin his life. Ryan actually like them, and they like him as well. Their dates slowly end with Jeremy staying the night at Ryan’s usually nothing more than cuddling and sleeping going on because they both agree they want to take it slow.

December is full of dates, kisses and cuddles. Jeremy panics for a full week over what to get Ryan for his birthday and then Christmas which is right after. Ryan had bought Jeremy and himself tickets to Japan after that first date but still picked out a bunch of random little things along the way which he saw and instantly thought of Jeremy. Ryan invited Jeremy over on Christmas Eve because he knew the younger was spending the holiday with family, aunts and uncles came into town with their family, and introduced Jeremy to Michael as his boyfriend. Michael looks shocked for a moment before nodding his head. And despite the fact that Michael is rude to him every time they see each other at school their conversation is polite and Jeremy is glad he had picked up a gift for Michael when he was out as well.

January starts with an Instagram post. Three months after they started dating officially they both post the same picture, sharing a kiss as the new year is rung in, with identical captions as well. I’m so excited to start this year with you. The first week of January is spent exploring a new stage in their relationship. Jeremy started staying over nightly, and there was less sleep than there had been before. It had never felt as right before and Jeremy was glad they had waited, glad it was Ryan. He didn’t want to think that he loved the man but he knew already that he did. Michael started coming around to him as well, there were less incidents at school, in fact he could count on one hand all of them for the first time in years, opposed to the once a day attacks from before.

The first day of school in February starts a lot like his old days had, with Michael shoving him into a locker, but this time they are alone in the hall it was before hours.

“You aren’t just fucking with my dad to get back at me right?”

Jeremy sees the look in Michael’s eyes and knows he’s just being protective of his dad because he loves him.

“No Michael. I know I said I would fuck him to get back at you but honestly I wouldn’t have. I like him, a lot. He’s the first guy who hasn’t made me feel like I’m not worthy of affection and he makes me really happy.”

“He is too. I just... his last boyfriend was an asshole and really hurt him.”

“I know what that’s like and that’s the last thing I want to do. I... I haven’t told him so I don’t know why I’m telling you. But I love him. He’s my heart and my soul and I’d probably be really lost without him.”

“Okay...”

“I know we don’t really get along Michael, though it’s been better since you found out about us but no matter how I feel about you I wouldn’t fuck with someone else to get back at you. And we are better or I like to think we are.”

“He deserves to be happy.”

“And I want to help make him happy for as long as I can.”

Michael nods his head before moving away from Jeremy and then speaking again.

“So what are you getting him for Valentine’s Day?”

“I have no idea. Well I have an idea but I don’t know if he’ll think it’s as cool or useful as I do.”

“Need some help?”

Jeremy pauses before looking at Michael wide eyed.

“Really? You’d help me.”

“Yea. So what do you say?”

“That’s be great.”

And that’s how Michael almost completely got over being a dickbag to Jeremy. There was still the occasional moment when a bit of his former hatred popped out but for the most part they were fine. Valentine’s Day was a major success, Jeremy had been thrilled with his gifts from Ryan, stuff for their japan trip and a few more romantic things that they could enjoy together. And Ryan was beyond happy with the collection of custom Diet Coke bottles, that Michael helped him pick out, the luggage separators to improve space and a few little things that no one else needed to see, and of course the confession from Jeremy, tears in his eye as they eat dinner together of I love you. The words come softly and then bolder and Ryan can’t help but respond in the same. Somehow after four short months he knew he loved this man. And then there is the last minute panic and hurry to make sure they have everything for their trip in a month, between packing and buying and searching they manage to find time for dates and kisses and love galore.

March starts slow, they have two weeks before Japan and Jeremy is stressing about midterms, and has basically moved into Ryan’s house. Ryan has taken to making him dinner every night, helping him study and giving him massages when he’s super stressed. In return Jeremy helps Michael study, cooks breakfast for them all in the morning and peppers Ryan with love and affection at every turn. At the end of the second week they check their luggage one more time and get ready to be brought to the airport. Jeremy had stayed with Ryan that night, he had been fluttering between there and his own house, mainly because he missed Gavin’s bullshit and his parents own version of crazy, and when they woke up the next morning for Michael to drive them to the airport he’s jittery, texting Gavin the entire time.

I can’t believe this is real.

His words are more from a shocking bout of insecurity and Gavin sees right through them before responding.

It’s real. You deserve this and so much more. You have someone who loves you for exactly who you are and you are so blessed to love him in return. It’s something that many people hope for and you have it. Now have an amazing time in Japan with your love and tell me about it when you get home.

When they finally land in Japan, Jeremy is bouncing from the need to move, being on the plane so long was killing him.

“Calm down love.”

“I am calm. I’m just glad to not be on the plane anymore and I’m excited to spend the next week exploring with you.”

Ryan places a kiss to Jeremy’s forehead as they wait for their luggage. And they do spend that week exploring, though Ryan makes sure they visit the cherry blossoms every day. On their last day in Japan during their last visit to the cherry blossoms Jeremy looks around him, he could never have imagined anything better than this. He turns to say something to Ryan and his hands fly to his mouth spotting the man down on one knee.

“I know it’s only been a few months, and I know you are still young. But I was hoping you would be willing to make me even happier than I am now, happier than I thought was possible and marry me?”

“Really?”

His question is silent as he stares directly into Ryan’s eyes and he sees the love and sincerity in them.

“Absolutely.”

Before Ryan can say anything else Jeremy has answered his own question, he knew he loved Ryan, knew Ryan loved him, knew this moment was perfect. He leans down kissing Ryan with all his mite, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’m so in love with you.”

“And I with you.”

“You did good Ry.”

Hearing the female voice Jeremy turns confused and then he sees a short blonde woman smiling at him with Michael behind her.

“Um...”

“I know this is unconventional but I wanted Michael to be here. He is my son after all. And he told me when I asked that he thought we would be great together so he gave me his blessing to propose. I asked your parents but they said they would celebrate with us when we got home.”

“I think the um was more about mom, dad than me being here. Jeremy this is my mom, mom this is Jeremy.”

“Hi hun. I’m sorry I know it’s your moment and all but I figured you guys might want some pictures, and Michael took a video as well. I’m just glad that Ryan has someone to love him like you do.”

“It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for the pictures and video, Michael. I’m lucky that in marrying Ryan I get you both as part of my family.”

They talk for a few minutes before Michael and his mom leave the newly engaged couple alone. Jeremy just smiles at Ryan nonstop and then his phone goes off with a message, he’s been tagged in a post by Michael. He opens his phone to Instagram and spots one of the pictures they had taken moments before. I’m glad you love my dad as much as he loves you. It features Ryan kissing Jeremy’s cheek as Jeremy smiles widely and has an arm wrapped around Michael.

“You know he’s a pain in the ass sometimes but I really am glad he’s your kid cause I wouldn’t know you otherwise.”

“You are preaching to the choir.”

Jeremy and Ryan both post pictures then, Jeremy posting one of the four of them, and Ryan posting one of everyone but himself, they share the same caption though a single word, Family. They hold off posting about their engagement until they are back in the states, mainly because Jeremy wanted to tell his parents and Gavin in person, even though his parents knew. Cuddled in bed with Ryan one day after they’ve been home for a few weeks Jeremy thinks back to that faithful day when he repeated his mantra of it gets better and a smile breaks onto his face. Because it was true and he was so grateful for that, because every day, every moment, every second with Ryan it really gets better.

[snatchersnatched]

Why my affections extend to Snatcher and the Prince

With a title like that, you must be wondering “What the hell does Kitty have cooking up this time? Just a random shitpost? A short story about how she likes creepy things? Etcetera?”

It’s uh, it’s more deeper than that.

Now you also must be wondering why I’m not talking about how I found ahit, or something similar. It’s not really a complicated story. My friend sent me a dm one night about Luke getting a part in a game, and that was that. And before you ask, no, I do not like Snatcher just because Luke voiced him. And no, it’s also not only because I’m plain ol’ attracted to him, which is also a factor, but there’s a bigger part of the picture.

It’s about to get a little depressing, and I usually don’t talk about this, but, here we go. This gets personal, uhhh I guess tw for bullying and abusive friendships?

Let’s open up an old page, 9th grade to be specific. I was a dumbass, let’s just get that out of the way.

I was introduced to this girl, I’m gonna call her M. I knew her since 7th grade because of another friend, though we weren’t really friends at first. Anyway, she decided to approach me during lunch cause none of her other friends were in the same period, so I was like sure, cause I usually am up for making new friends.

We bonded over Big Hero 6, and we both decided to see it together one night. Thus, our friendship was solidified. We had sleepovers, and get-togethers, and talked a lot together during lunch. We were pretty much attached to the hip at that point.

Then, February came around.

My mom said we were going to go to Florida for a week in March! Wow, a week away from school. I immediately asked M if she wanted to come with us, and she said yes. After that, she got me into Transformers.

It took a slow plunge from there.

I won’t get into every single detail, but here’s the basics.

We shared the love for this franchise for a while, even starting a long never-ending roleplay and watching the movies together and the cartoons and all that.

But after a while, in tenth grade, it just sort of took a crash.

She wanted to know when I was going to nap, in fact she never did want me to nap after school. We got into a fight about my weight, and she blocked me instead of talking things out. It made me cry hysterically in English, because we were such close friends, why would she do this?

We made up only one week later, but that nearly costed a friendship with someone else. Because she didn’t want me to be friends with her, despite that friend sticking up for me when I was upset.

I wanted to sleep early one night, and she reprimanded me for it, saying that I always “slept” during the day and that our roleplay was much more important than sleeping at that time. I told her, ok, I’ll stay up a little longer then, but she just rejected that idea and told me passive-aggressively, “Goodnight.”

When I wanted to nap after school, cause I was always so exhausted, she’d say no, you always do. That led me to having to promise to only take a nap once a week, which led me to being exhausted more often. I could barely do my homework because she just wanted me to focus on her.

Later 2015, Undertale released. I was super excited, and I adored the game. I found out M liked it too, so I asked if we could start a roleplay together about it. Suddenly, because I also liked Undertale, she didn’t like it anymore. This is when she started to get really territorial over Transformers, saying it was her thing and that I had to find something else to like. Even though she wanted to continue the roleplay we had.

This also led to what I now find an amusing message from her friend yelling at me for liking Undertale and not Transformers, but let’s not get into that.

Finally, I was able to get out of the abusive relationship, because we had another fight, but got through it. I told her about my new interest, One Punch Man, but once again insulted me for it. It took a friend of mine to give me the courage to block her again once and for all.

After that, she kept coming back in small ways. She’d insult me behind my back, she’d mention her weight around me just to draw attention to my weight. Etc.

I haven’t really recovered, if I’m honest.

But slowly, I have, and this is why we’re here right now.

I never really mentioned this to any of my friends, new and old that I made after I got away from M. I was severely depressed, and old habits die hard as they say. I was really struggling through 11th and the first half of 12th grade because I was scared that M would try to force herself into my life again.

Then, A Hat in Time came out.

I made new friends, and I gained a new love and fascination for a game I never gave a second glance before then. I also had this love for our lovely purple noodle, and his past prince self. At first I thought it was just because I liked tragic characters, and that Luke voiced him and I just thought that he was pretty cool.

Slowly, I found myself relating to him more and more as we found out more about his past, mostly with Vanessa. How controlling she was, how horrible and abusive she was.

Soon, he became a comfort character, someone I could shout my love about whenever I wanted.

As you all know, David soon came in the picture, and I found myself being in a similar situation M put me in because he insulted me for my likes of Snatcher/Prince.

I kept my love for him, and it only got stronger when David left the picture.

When Seal The Deal came out, and we saw all this dialogue about Snatcher talking about Vanessa and almost seeming to lament over the past, it came to me in an epiphany.

He’s a comfort character, I love him so much, because he helps me see that it’s ok to move on, and that after you get out of an abusive relationship/friendship, it gets better. No, I don’t see myself in the sense of I eat souls and I make contracts and I kill people. He actually helped me get through the past pain I suffered through.

I’m not of course putting down my friends that also helped me be able to laugh at my past. But I suppose it was a more spiritual connection that I needed, someone I could relate to and project myself onto to help myself heal.

I still love Snatcher, that fact is obvious, and I’ll never stop loving him. No matter how much I’m insulted, or took down for it. He helped me through a dark time in my life, which seems funny and silly, because he’s a fictional character. But I suppose sometimes you just need that extra push to get through something.

I want to thank Gears for Breakfast for making such wonderful characters, and helping me make new friends that I never thought I’d be able to make. And I want to thank my friends, the ones who have stuck by my side, and helped me through big puddles of mud when I needed it.

Thank you, all of you. For supporting me, and supporting my stupid thoughts and stories.

Here’s to another year, aye?

[hiyabradley]

Well, you’re just a fuckboy” (Part 1/3)

Masterlist|My Wattpad

A/N: Just a heads up, this is a really long one! I got a bit to into this imagine if I’m honest. But I hope you like it! Enjoy! :) x

Warnings? Strong language/smut

Words: 3355

I was getting ready to go to one of the biggest parties of the university year. I curled my hair and had just finished applying my make-up a bit more dramatically than what I usually would on a day-to-day basis. I then went and put on my dress, it was a long red dress that flowed down to just above my ankles and was low cut at the front and back. It's not something I would usually wear, but I really liked the way the dressed hung on me and made my figure look way better than it already did.

I went to check how I looked in the mirror, I then decided I wanted to take a few pictures for my Instagram so I grabbed my phone from my bed and took a few selfies and some mirror selfies to show how the dressed looked on me. I then picked out the ones I liked best and posted them to my Instagram with the caption:

"Ready for tonight💃🏽😛"

I then placed my phone back on my bed and put my heals, a few bracelets and my favourite perfume on. I then checked my phone and saw that a few of my friends had liked and commented on the post I had made on Instagram, I opened up the app and started replying to them. After I had finished I refreshed my interactions feed and my heart stopped at what I saw.

bradleywillsimpson liked your post

bradleywillsimpson commented: "Damn baby girl 😍😍 x"

Why was I even surprised? He usually likes and comments on the stuff I post on Instagram, but this was different, I mean baby girl? Seriously? I mean don't get me wrong, he is very attractive, but considering he's supposedly the university's biggest fuckboy I wouldn't ever go there.

I decided to be nice and like his comment and reply with:

"@bradleywillsimpson um, thank you?😇"

A few seconds later he liked my comment and then sent me a dm:

Brad: You going to that party tonight? X

I replied back to him and he instantly replied:

Me: Yeah I am, why?

Brad: Ah nothing, just wondering that's all baby girl 😏 x"

I rolled my eyes at his message, is he actually being serious by calling me baby girl and putting kisses on the end of his messages? I then replied:

Me: I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that🙄

Brad: Why baby girl? X

Me: Because I'm not your baby girl, we're not a thing, we hardly even know each other. So just stop yeah?

Brad: We're in the same lectures, we're taking the same degree, sure we know each other baby girl x

Me: Oh my god, would you actually stop? I've spoken to you like, what? Once? Maybe twice? In real life, only because I've had to, otherwise I would never speak to you. Now can you do a massive favour and like fuck off or something?

Brad: Offt, baby girl you're feisty! Chill! If you would've never spoken to me in real life then why do you always message me back on here? X

Me: You think that's me being feisty? Boy, please🙄 and just to be nice I suppose? Why do you always like and comment on everything I post and then message me afterwards? Or just message me in general?

Brad: Um... x

Me: Well?

Brad: I'm just gonna be straight up and say it... I like you alright baby girl x

I started at his message for a few seconds and began to type a reply:

"I bet you say that to every girl don't you?"

But I soon deleted it and decided not to send it and leave for the party instead. I grabbed my bag and put all my essentials in it such as my phone, keys, lipstick, perfume and some flats in case my heels started to hurt my feet.

******

I arrived at the party and met with my best friend Francesca.

"Wow girl, you look smoking!" She said while linking her arm with mine and we pushed through the many people to try and find the bar to get a drink. "I saw that Brad guy or whatever his name is liked and commented on your post on insta again, he seems to have really took a shine to you!" She continued.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Ugh, don't even get me started Cessa. He messaged me afterwards and then stated that he liked me, yeah right, I bet he literally says that to every single girl!" I scoffed.

She let out a giggle. "Um, not really Y/N. I followed him on insta like months ago and he still hasn't followed me back. You're literally the only girl who he follows on there who probably isn't famous or related to him somehow. Also he only ever likes the things you post or pictures of dogs!"

"Oh, so you stalk him on insta?"

"I mean why wouldn't you? He's so hot it should be illegal! I'm so sad he hasn't followed me back! You should stop being so salty and get to know him."

"No thanks. You can have him, I'm not interested!"

We finally made it to the bar and ordered ourselves a drink.

******

Later that night after a few drinks and a few hours of dancing with Francesca and a couple of my other friends, I really needed the toilet.

"I'm gonna go find the toilet!" I shouted over the loud music to Francesca as she was the standing the closest to me.

"Okay, meet me back here after!"

"I will do!" I gave her a hug and went to find the toilet.

It took me a good while to find it. After I had finished I stepped into the hallway and bumped into someone's chest.

"Oh god. I'm sorry!" I said as I took a few steps back.

"It's fine!" They paused. "Oh, hi baby girl!"

I looked up to see the persons who chest I walked into was actually Brad's.

"Fucking great!" I muttered to myself and began to walk away.

"Hey! Where you going baby girl?" He called after me.

I turned around to face him. "Where the fuck does it look like I'm going?"

"I don't know, you tell me baby girl?"

"Away from you!" I went to turn and walk away but he grabbed my wrist so I couldn't.

"Awww, c'mon! Don't be like that baby girl!" He pouted.

"Get off me. Leave me alone!" I managed to slip out of his grip and find my way back to the bar where I ordered myself a drink.

"Finally, some peace!" I thought to myself.

******

I was just about to order myself another drink when I felt somebody's presence at the side of me.

"It's alright, I'll pay." They said, I look over at them to find out it was Brad again, I instantly rolled my eyes.

"We meet again baby girl." He smirked.

"Can you stop fucking following me?"

"On Instagram?"

"Haha you're funny. No. Around here."

"I'm not following you, I wanted a drink okay?"

"Yeah sure you did."

"I did!"

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, then quickly drank my drink and began to walk away.

"Hey wait up!" He ran after me.

"What?" I spat.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Can I walk you home?"

"So you can find out where I live so you can annoy me even more? Yeah, sure, why the fuck not!"

"There's no need to be like that baby girl, I'm just trying to be nice."

"Oh so you're tryna be a gentleman instead of the fuckboy you actually are?" I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Never mind." I began walking towards my flat.

"So can I walk you home or not baby girl?" He asked.

"If you must?"

He caught up with me and we walked back to my flat.

******

"Well, this is me!" I stated to him as we reached my flat. He stared at me, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. "You can leave now, you know?"

He snapped out of his daze. "Uh? Sorry? What?" He asked confused.

"I said you can leave now."

"But I don't wanna leave."

"If you're expecting me to invite you inside, you can fucking think again, cause I'm not!"

"Why the fuck are you being like this baby girl? I'm nothing but nice to you."

"Can you just fucking leave?"

"Fine, I fucking will then." And with that he left.

******

Here’s part 2, I hope you all enjoyed the frist part :) x

[ryewi]

Ain’t No Time - kdh

Summary: Donghan is a competitive person, ready to pull out a veni,vidi,vici whenever he has a chance to, but so are you. As the media announced the annual dancing competition between k-pop idols with their significant others, both of you were excited to begin practicing and be in it to win it.

Pairing: Idol!Donghan x Reader (y’all not an idol in this one, sorry)

Genre: fluff i guess? 

Words: 2,4k 

Warnings: Kim Donghan, that’s it, that’s the warning

AN: This is based off of a dream I had 2 nights ago that served as a casual reminder to not watch Donghan videos after 3am

For what felt like thousandth time, you shot hand guns towards the mirror, attempting to feel the outfit you were wearing. It was interesting, how mismatched colors or weird pairings didn't matter as long as they felt comfortable. Many would argue that the main priority is to feel snuggly, but is it really when you literally pair up a green top with red sweatpants?  

This time though, the colors matched perfectly, probably because both the top and sweatpants were black. Yet, even if they didn’t fit well together as an outfit, you felt amazing; hips swaying left and right, then proceeding to smile at how silly you acted when you were alone sometimes.

A silent beep shook the daze off, the screen of your phone lighting up, a small message notification popping up not long after. The wallpaper shone brightly, showing off a beautiful selfie your boyfriend took two months ago. If his picture wasn't enough to make you smile, the message sure was.

From ♡ Moon 'n Stars ♡ - 13s ago

If my respectful girlfriend is ready, I'd please her beautiful face to come over to the studio

Putting a hand over your mouth to stifle the sudden wave of uncontrollable laughter, you texted back a cute heart emoji. Standing up suddenly, your vision blurred for a moment, as if your body screamed "yo, what happened, calm down woman". Regaining balance on previously wiggly legs and shaky eyesight, you grabbed a bulky backpack resting on a king-sized bed. Your eyes caught on to a sparkly award placed on a shelf next to the bedside table. It was from a music show on which your boyfriend, Donghan, got his first win. Just looking at the award still sent chills of excitement and proudness through your body.

Inside of the bag, you never carried much stuff, although the carriage itself was slightly too much. Usually, a bottle of water, a towel, shower gel and spare t-shirt were the only things inside along with phone and keys. With more than sixty percent left free, the bag sometimes looked funny to you.

Outside, it was pretty chilly for the customarily burning August, with 23 degrees Celsius (73,4F), you felt better and ready to start dancing. Donghan was supposed to teach you a choreography to his song, called 'Ain't No Time' today. Reasoning behind that activity, was that there was a competition between k-pop idols and their significant others in dancing. Each official couple was supposed to learn one of idols’ choreographies and perform it together.

Exactly because of that, the k-pop community faced a huge wave of couples announcing their relationships. Fans were attacked from every angle by never ending reports, causing even more drama as they fought which couple is the OTP. Fortunately, you weren't one of the newly declared relationships. Donghan's company freely revealed it around a month after you two started dating, taking time to check if it wasn't a short-timed fling only. What made the relationship even more interesting was, you weren't an idol, just a girl he met on a bus ride home. The two of you began conversating casually about a passenger who caused drama two stops ago and exchanged numbers after enjoying each other’s company so much.

His fans were amazing. When the relationship was revealed, your instagram was leaked just as quick as a snap of one's fingers, but instead of hate comments, what you got was pretty different.

Take care of our Donghanie well!  

Thank you for making our baby happy!

What a stunning girl, our boy sure is lucky!

All of those comments people left made you feel happy. You weren't sure what was to expect, but this definitely wasn't a first thought that crosses one's mind. Fans were quick to make edits, although they weren't left hanging with just their imagination for long. Donghan made sure to post a selfie with you just two days later.  

Occasionally, your phone would buzz with notifications of them trying to contact you through dms and although you didn't have time to reply with a big paragraph to every single one, you tried to be as pleasant as possible. In the end, they were a powerful force you didn't want to awaken in a wrong way and neither was there a need to do so.

When you finally reached the dance studio, ten minutes later than expected, you made no effort to be undercover when entering. There were many employees swiftly changing their routes and mumbling quiet excuses whenever they bumped into each other. It made you giggle when Kyungjae, a dancer employed two years ago, entered the female's bathroom on accident, scared women screaming in unison back at him.

"Kyungjae!" You screamed, making him jump and nearly drop the drink he carried in his right hand. On the sight of such a cheerful creature, Kyungjae smiled, advancing towards you in long strides. Jae was a lanky person, with doe like eyes, pointy nose and plush lips, shy at first but extremely talkative afterwards. Whenever a company dinner was held and your dear boyfriend tagged you along, Kyungjae would be the main attraction of the night. Jokes, swearing, dissing the politician system, whatever there was to think of, he had his mouth already opened to talk about.

"Hey! I heard you were coming, how are you?" He replied, arm now thrown around your shoulders comfortably. It was okay, both of you were very comfortable around each other; he was most probably your favorite employee here too.

"I'm great, thanks for asking, how are you doing today, my kind Sir?" Your voice was serious, but the slight twitch upwards of your mouth gave away the soon to splash wave of giggles. Kyungjae himself was near the shore too, lips extending into a thin line to suppress his incoming laughter. Replying with only thumbs up and an enthusiastic nod, he pushed you towards the entrance door which had a big "DANCE PRACTICE ROOM" written on them. Many cheerful voices broke through the barrier of closed door and made you smile as Donghan began to shush down his dancers.

"Let's all be serious now, my girlfriend must be near and we have to be professional" From reasons unknown, his face just appeared in front of you while he said that. Nose slightly scrunched and point finger up in the air, trying to indicate a serious point while attempting not to laugh at his sudden change of demeanor.  

Suddenly, as if on que, you forcefully but playfully opened the door, arms opened as you ran towards Donghan's tall figure. He didn't have much time to react before caring arms wrapped around his waist tight, trying to express the fondness you felt throughout this simple, yet meaningful action. Donghan turned around in the little cage, wrapping his own hands around you too, receiving at least a thousand awws from around the room.  

To say that your face was now shining with happiness would be an extreme understatement. Every single emotion Donghan awakened was now present on your face, showing just how much love there was for him to take from you. He was also smiling, cheeks rising to impossible heights, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss your forehead. He wasn't someone who's content with a lot of PDA, satisfying himself with just holding hands most of the time. Yet, when your feet make a first step into the shared apartment, Donghan's hands would be all over you; not in a sexual way, just in a rather innocent and comfortable manner, as if your waist and cheeks were the only place his hands knew about.

"Well look who blessed us with their presence" Donghan joked, caressing your right cheek for a second too long. Noticing that indeed, there are way too many people watching right now, he turned around and clapped twice, indicating that the practice can start. You both made an agreement that he'll show the whole piece first, just to get a good in-detail look of what you'll be learning.

Hurry up to my side, give me a hug

Whenever your boyfriend danced to this song in particular, you were in a trance. Sunset was a song you enjoyed too, easily getting down to the beat every time it was played, but Ain't No Time was your most favorite ever. Donghan's body moved so smoothly, hands travelling flawlessly over his neck, arms, thighs as if they were touching pure silk. He danced with so much emotion. It might be because you were so close whenever he performed, but it's as if whatever he felt at that moment, came out through dancing. Whether it was frustration, sadness, excitement and happiness, his moves and aura changed each time, creating a unique and special experience. Often you wanted to ask was he controlling his emotions or were the emotions controlling him while performing.  

Even though your eyes left his numerous of times to focus on a certain part of his body, trying to remember pieces of choreography, his never left yours. They were locked on to your moving irises, displaying an unexplainable amount of fondness towards his one and only.

For the time you two have been dating, Donghan never felt his emotions change, especially when your angelic face was the first thing his eyes focused on in the morning. When you were his first good morning and smile of the day. He loved you to the point where his heart ached.

When his dance neared the end, you anticipated the hand heart he throws when I love you line finishes. Instead of doing just that, Donghan walked over in a few long strides, grabbed your waist and kissed you. The sound of obnoxiously loud clapping indicated an end to the performance, dancers present in the room already ready to help you with learning.

“The choreography will be the same, but you’ll be mirroring my moves” Donghan spoke up, ruining the balance and resulting in confusion overtaking your body. Mirrored moves? Seeing uncertainty painting your soft features, he moved to stand right next to you and explain what he meant.

“I move my right hand, you move your right” His hand moved flawlessly through the air, motion looking like a swift wave on calm water. You mirrored his actions, succeeding to time it perfectly the first time. But why?

“We will be turned back to back for our performance” Donghan continued to explained and you suddenly felt panic rise up to fasten your heartbeat. You weren’t going to see each other during the performance, that’s too risky. He noticed the way you slightly bit the inside of your cheek, an obvious action that gave away the current emotions of his girlfriend.

“We will introduce it as a ‘trust performance’,” it was only respectful to let him finish his introduction and clarification even though there were so many questions to be asked, “basically a dance in which we have to trust our partner to offer just as good of a performance as we do”. You weren’t so comfortable with the idea, in the end you really could miss the beginning beat start a second before him, you could accidentally push him or back up a moment too early. So many ways that it could go wrong...

But at the same time, you were extremely excited. If the plan went well, performing such an interesting and unique show could probably bring a lot to favor. Donghan and you often did covers and each time the timing of both was marvelous. Not even milliseconds early or late, just on time, for three or four minutes in which his camera managed to capture the hard and amazing teamwork of you two.

You could and you will do this.

“Let’s start then!”

2pm is when you walked in through the door of the studio, it was currently 8 and you were on your knees, head in hands, frustrating puffs of air leaving your lips. The next try would be 36th attempt of the same move and you were pretty sure It'll be the same as previous. Backup dancers have already began clearing up, going home to their respective families and you wished you could too, yet there was just so much more to do.  

Pushing exasperation and fatigue away, you stood up, approaching the huge mirror that took a whole wall of space. Turning on the music and getting into position, you began dancing, eyes fixed on to your figure that magnificently swayed to each beat and break. Donghan looked at you from behind, eyes hooded and arms relaxed on his sides, already too tired of trying to convince a stubborn child to go home. Each time he pleased you, reasoning and sweet talking, you brushed it off, saying that it’s a must to master this. The only problem is, it wasn’t possible. Even your mind was weary, already forgetting pieces of movement you thought was settled and learned.

Donghan was tired of seeing you beat yourself over, hands slapping the ground, palm outstretched on the smooth parquet floor, nails dragging over it lightly. You can’t and won’t give up.

“Darling, please,” Donghan cooed, approaching the tired figure in front and caressing tired shoulders with his tender fingers. Your body visibly relaxed on his calm touch, muscles pacifying from previously felt tension. Everything suddenly felt better, black cloth lifted from the cage, when Donghan’s arms wrapped around your figure from behind. “We can change the choreography if you’d like”

“No!” You replied, furiously shaking your head no, while holding tight onto the two hands that provided warmth. “No, I’ll learn it, I’m just...just tired”.  

“I believe, my sunshine, we will be back tomorrow okay? We will work on this together, we have plenty of time” He picked your hand in his, fingers caressing the top of it in a comforting matter. Donghan was just as tired as you were, if not more, but he used the remaining bits of energy to offer comfort to the most important being in his life.

“Let’s go home, hm? Let’s rest?” He tried again, although skeptical because of the replies he got the past hundred times that exact question was asked. You turned back to look at your boyfriend, squealing after noticing that his head already rested on your shoulder. Nodding and letting him help while sitting up, both of you finally made it to the changing rooms and out of the building.

That night, Donghan had to use his power of light repetitive kisses and hugs to lure you to bed and stop from practicing in front of the big bedroom mirror.

AN: This could and actually most probably will have a 2nd chapter but like you didn’t hear that from me

[bangtan-spells]

Yoongi Scenario: Cherry Blossom Girl.

Request: Artist oc and photographer yoongi(both are famous on instagram) in which oc liked on one of yoongis pic and yoongi started to stalk on oc's instagram then he just start spamming on oc's instagram post with likes because he thought it was very nice. Oc then dm yoongi and they started talking and stuff?

Genre: Fluff.

-Who is that?-

Yoongi felt his heart stopping and he clutched the phone to his chest glaring at the individual that had just interrupted him in his everyday ritual, to not say stalking session.

-Oh the cherry blossom girl- Hoseok answered to himself which made Yoongi glare harder.

-Why do you ask then?- he barked relaxing his posture. His flatmate sat beside him with phone in hand as well. Yoongi resumed what he was doing, staring down at your recent instagram posts.

He had found your instagram a few months ago in someone’s likes or in recommendations, he couldn't be too sure. He usually didn’t follow pages like yours, a mix of classic dance photographs with the life style that job required, you were both a dancer and a model and he could agree in the undeniable artistry of your work, it wasn’t just the thing he’d browse on the internet. 

But as he had very randomly looked at a few pictures of yours he realized there was something that caught his eye. At first the cohesive way you displayed your photos, the high quality of your pictures. Then he started to realize it was your eyes that had caught him, bright and somehow flirty even if you didn’t look directly to the camera, in other pictures it was your smile, full of that something that just made people turn their heads to stare at.  Your instagram id was DanceNBloom, not so much about cherry blossoms, but as you had several photos with or of cherry blossoms trees Yoongi had that secret nickname for you, and of course his little shit of a flatmate knew. Just yesterday you had posted a picture of you drinking coffee on a cup with cherry blossoms design, it had to mean something to you and that intrigued him as well as everything else.

He wasn’t a people photographer but he sometimes found himself wanting to photograph you, sometimes and more often than not he wondered who was your photographer.

-She is pretty cute- Hoseok continued making Yoongi turn to him to realize the little shit was also scrolling your instagram.

-What the fuck?- Yoongi smacked him and Hoseok laughed loudly.

-Calm down, I'm just checking out her posts-

-Don't-

Hoseok laughed again, somewhat amused of his friend outburst of jealousy, Yoongi was a cold person in general so seeing him like that wasn’t an everyday thing. -Easy, I'm not doing anything, but, I got to ask when will you?-

-When will I what?-

-Do something-

Yoongi sighed. He would be lying if he said he had not thought about getting to know you, but knowing himself he didn’t think how that could be possible. -Like what?-

Hoseok cleared his throat which made Yoongi roll his eyes, he was seriously taking advice over this?

-I'd say like a couple pictures of her, that way she knows you are interested in her, then you DM her-

-Bah- Yoongi sighed going to the balcony to light a cigarette. He decided to check out his own posts, his recent photograph was of an old door he had found in the outskirts of the city and it was receiving a lot of attention. He was recently a bit obsessed with doors which was both weird and cool at the same time. That’s when he realized you were there, in his activity. Yoongi almost dropped the cigarette and he saw your user name as you had given a like to his recent post.

It didn’t mean anything, thousands of people left likes on his photos, but Yoongi felt prouder about this one now. In some kind of rush he tapped the screen to go to your profile again, he felt a bit unsure but muttering a what the hell he tapped twice on a picture of you surrounded by flowers. He really liked that one as the shades of pink made perfect contrast with your black dress, you stared at the camera dreamily and Yoongi couldn’t help but think to capture that with his own len. He tapped on the next one as he scrolled down, to then give like to another in which the sun created a perfect shadow of your profile while you did a ballet posture. You had an eye for pictures, that was to not say he had his eye on you, a thing that was hard to deny when he came to realize he had just spammed you with likes.

-Shit- he cursed throwing the rest of the cigarette away to catch Hoseok staring at him. -What?-

-Are you ok?-

-Yeah- he lied, he felt like he had screwed up somehow.

-It will go well if you do it like I told you, just… don’t be creepy, no offense hyung but I know you can be a little bit creepy sometimes-

Yoongi scoffed not looking at Hoseok but the sight of the city before him, that warning came a little too late.

It was night, after a whole day of editing Yoongi laid down on his bed to find himself on instagram again, your instagram. He was thinking if he should really do this and if so what he could say, would you have something to talk about? did you want that? It was too frustrating thinking, but then you seemed to be into photography, that could be a start. Yoongi cursed and thought the words, just a greeting and then see how it went from there, it shouldn’t have to be a big deal, if you didn’t like it then to hell, he’d move on, it wasn’t a big deal.

Then he saw the new notifications and for a moment he thought he had sent the message without even realizing it. But no, it was your name written there, you had talked to him. You had actually DM him first.

DanceNBloom: Hey, you have a nice page too

Yoongi’s heart started to go faster and he recriminated at himself for it, why was he being so nervous over this? he felt like a freaking boy with a crush. Yoongi inhaled and stared at the message thinking what to answer, like the man he was.

MYGVision: Hey, you have nice taste

He stared at it, waiting. And then he panicked, maybe you thought he was referring to his own instagram when he was talking about your posts. -Shit- now you were going to think he was arrogant, which wasn't entirely a lie but still.

MYGVision I mean your pics, really nice

You bit your lip as you re read the conversation, or what you had sent so far. You had been a little nervous to actually talk to him but it was all going good. He thought it was nice, but just nice? 

You rolled in bed and thought about what to respond. He was such a professional and recognized photographer, what could you say to him? 

You had been following Yoongi’s page for quite some time, and in that time you had realized you weren’t just a fan of his fine work, but you actually found him hot. He almost never posted a photo of himself but he had some, you had scrolled down his whole instagram and then went on to his website to check out his work, and that face. Yoongi had a cool expression in the few photos of him you had seen, almost serious, he looked like the type who smiled only when he truly meant it and that made him seem twice attractive to you. So much you had actually talked to him.

-But he started it- you told yourself smiling at the thought of the shower of likes he had given you, almost lost in all the other notifications you received, but you had seen it.

DanceNBloom Thanks, I like your posts too, specially the work you do with shadows, kind of obsessed with them recently.

Yoongi chuckled reading, so you had recent obsessions just like him. He licked his lips and tipped his answer

MYGVision Shadows are quite interesting, not always easy to come accurate in photo, depending of the effect you want… But I see you have done several, they are good

You beamed at his answer, for some reason prouder of your posts, so much you went to check them out, like you wanted to see for yourself what he saw.

DanceNBloom Thanks, should I call you sunbae? lol

MYGVision Nah call me Yoongi, just Yoongi is ok

-Just Yoongi- you repeated out loud. This was going better than expected but now you didn’t know what to say. What were you doing talking to this guy like this? You wanted to keep talking but you felt shy all of the sudden. So after a bit of thought you sent him a smiley emoticon and waited, if he kept talking it meant he was interested, if not then you should just leave it.

Yoongi waited for your answer, he was growing frustrated and nervous seeing you didn’t say anything, and then you just sent an emoticon. What that meant? Shouldn’t you be saying if he could call you by your name? Or something else? With that he thought you didn’t want to keep talking. But Yoongi wasn’t good with that. -Shit-

He wasn’t the best at getting to know people but he believed he could put himself out there for a change. So he was going to do something and if you answered the same way he’d leave it.

MYGVision Should I call you hoobae?

You jumped out of the bed out of emotion and nerves when he answered, and then you wanted to face palm, you hadn't said your introduction or anything. That’s why you were single, you were subtle and smooth with your dance moves, not so much at flirting or talking to a guy.

DanceNBloom You don’t have to lol sorry I’m a bit awkward sometimes, call me Y/N, just Y/N ;)

Yoongi smiled, the relief he felt was bigger than expected.

MYGVision Alright, nice to meet you. I take you live here in Seoul

DanceNBloom I do, so do you, right?

MYGVision Right, Y/N, I want to keep talking to you, is it ok to ask for your number?

Yoongi bit his lip and left the phone aside feeling way too nervous for what it was. It wasn’t the first time he flirted with a girl or asked for a number but he was feeling quite like it. He was regretting his decision at sending you that too fast but then he saw your number on the screen followed by something that got him too giddy, he thanked heaven he was alone of Hoseok would pester him for his huge smile for weeks.

DanceNBloom Add me, now you can give me all those photographs tips.

Yoongi added you and this time talked to your whatsapp, feeling that giddiness too big in him, you were smiling to the camera in your profile picture, the cherry blossoms adorning the background, like enhancing your beauty. Or maybe Yoongi just found you too gorgeous and he was being cheesy as fuck.

MYGVision Giving my tips would require coffee, or a few drinks if you want the extended advice.

DanceNBloom I agree, couldn’t it be any other way

Yoongi counted himself a victory after reading that. He was going to meet you, the girl he was crushing so hard to the point of giddy smiles and nervous talk, his cherry blossom girl.