#my caption is more than three sentences this time i am failing my keep it contained challenge 😔

[myreia]

— ii. lion-hearted

Fires burn, the sky crackles, a storm incoming. The front is devastation untold, enemies and allies lying dead alike in the field of battle. She could weep when she finds him; they lost sight of each other when the fighting started. There is still so much to be done—the rage and the fury and the madness blazing around them—but she needs this as desperately as she needs breath. One moment. One single, precious moment. A reminder that they both survived.

[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

[the-sultan-of-strange]

So! Tonight I had the most intensely terrifying night of probably my entire life. :)

Because, see, today is the first day of the spring semester so I went to bed completely pent up and unable to sleep. I kept tossing and turning around in bed for hours, trying my hardest to fall asleep but unable to because my mind was too noisy.

So at one point, about two hours before I have to wake up, I decide "fuck it" and reach for my phone to dick around on Tumblr until I have to wake up. And I'm already feeling awful about not sleeping any tonight because I really need my sleep and I always start feeling like I failed at life if I miss a night of sleep, but then it starts becoming more and more evident that something is off.

First off, total fucking silence, no trains in the distance, no barking dogs, nothing, only my breathing, the shuffling of the bedsheets and the occasional voices coming from my phone that I definitely did not tell it to produce. The voices are female, and sound like they're quietly speaking in a choir, in a drawn-out chanty way.

At this point I'm still in denial, so I just quietly wait and pray until they go away and I hope it was just a video I forgot to mute.

Also, I'm having this clawing feeling in the back of my head that I'm completely alone.

See, I live with my mom, stepdad and my maternal grandparents in the house, it's dead middle of the darkest night I've ever experienced, and there I am absolutely convinced that there's nobody else in the house than me, the darkness and the voices from my phone. And my brain comes to the conclusion that since they obviously wouldn't just go out in the middle of a dark winter night, that leaves that either something quietly took them or they never existed in the first place.

This of course prompts more denial so I dive right back into Tumblr, more voices, more waiting for it to be over, more scrolling further and further in a dashboard that becomes increasingly repetitive as it goes on, with the same ominous phrase popping up in the captions under seemingly unrelated posts. Sometimes in text, sometimes said by the voices. I don't remember what  the phrase was, but it disturbed me to a point where I was ready to start screaming at nothing out of sheer anxiety.

At this point almost my entire dash is composed of nothing but one post repeating ad infinitum. It's an image that looks like it was taken with a forest trail cam at night. It's a group of women or girls, wearing short-sleeved nurse scrubs and surgical masks. Their hair is done up in identical hairdos, kind of like bobcuts but slicked back and stretching out to the back. I don't remember their faces. I'm not sure they had faces.

Each iteration of the post is this one single photo, captioned with the phrase. Sometimes there are voices, sometimes there aren't. Occasionally I come across a post that isn't this one post, so I keep scrolling in hopes that I find more normal posts. I do, but there's always more of the one post. The more I scroll the worse it becomes. At one point I put on my headphones and try to listen to some music, but it's drowned out by some sort of garbled noise that feels like the worst thing I have ever heard.

Eventually it gets so bad I'm reduced to just lying on the bed and staring into the darkness while my phone talks in voices (somehow my eyes couldn't get used to the darkness like usually, it was all pitch black aside from the part of my bed lit up by the phone screen). I feel like I'm inches away from snapping and starting to scream.

Then the voices slowly die down, and then a few seconds or minutes later (I'm not even sure anymore) I'm scared to death by an extremely loud male voice going "HEY DUDE" from the phone.

I pick up the phone and look at the screen. It's a Hangouts video chat, somehow, even though it didn't ring, it just kinda started on its own. The voice is one of my internet friends’ (let’s call him M), which is odd since I have never heard his voice but I immediately recognize it as his voice. The face is also M's, which is even odder since I have seen his face and that's definitely not his face. These are all things I realized later since at that moment I was so overjoyed at having someone talk to that I didn't think about 1. how did this person start talking to me without ringing my phone, 2. how is he M when he looks nothing like him and 3. how did I recognize a voice I've never heard before.

Thinking about it later, the only similarity between M's face and the one on my screen was that both are black. M is a black guy, and so is the man staring at me from my phone screen. But looking at his image for a little bit, I noticed that his skin wasn’t right. It was way too shiny. Like, oil slick shiny. Sure, he had the facial structure of a black person, but his skin looked like someone methodically smeared an even layer of tar over it to make it look black. It was like his face was real, but his skin was not.

By the time I assessed his face from closer up, I have processed that the person I’m talking to is not, in fact, my internet friend M. And at this point it clicks in me that this is not all random. There’s a system to it. There’s a logic to it. The image of the weird nurses, the female choir of voices, the anxiety-inducing unknown sentence, and not-M cheerfully saying hello to me with his tar-textured false face. There is some sort of logic holding these things together, though I cannot for the life of me figure out what kind of logic.

And I get the vague conviction that this logic belongs to something. Something that is observing me.

Anyway, my conversation with not-M lasted only a few seconds, and consisted only of three sentences, but it was minutes for me. I took it surprisingly casually, probably because my brain decided to ignore how fake and wrong everything about this situation was because finally talking to an apparent human person trumped that. Maybe it was that. It’s also possible that I was simply too deep into denial to care anymore.

So talk we do.

He asks "hey man, what are you doing", and I reply "nothing much". Then I remember I have to wake up in 1-2 hours depending on how much time (if any) actually passed since I turned on my phone, so I add: "But you know, I should be in bed right now."

And in the exact moment I spoke those words, my morning alarm went off.

I was lying in bed, it was morning and my phone was lying right next to me on the pillow, exactly where I picked it up from to go on Tumblr.

As it turns out, I dreamt the whole fucking thing from the moment I "turned on" my phone. My asshole brain just simply didn't feel the need to notify me that I had, in fact, fallen asleep, and instead chose to project me into a dark and uncanny knockoff of my bedroom which then proceeded to methodically break down into a surreal unreality around me, while I believed it to be the real, waking world all the while. No shrieking nightmare monster can compare to the sheer horror and anxiety of a world that is just a little bit not right.

Moral of the story: liminal spaces ain't your fucking friend. I tried it out tonight, and I think I had an encounter with a Lovecraftian psychological parasite created by my own brain that feeds on uncomfortableness, anxiety and fear.

Oh and also, in case you forgot, the two hours spent in this surreal psychological horrorscape were the only two hours I’ve slept tonight. Funtimes. :)

[keotastic]

sunday morning

hyuken // 5764w

But that night, as Sanghyuk tossed and turned in his bed, heart racing weirdly -- it wasn’t how well Jaehwan had sung his song request that Sanghyuk was thinking about -- it was the continuous echoing of the same three words in his mind.

‘Han Sanghyuk’, in crappy, crackly sound quality; in Jaehwan’s sweet, pretty voice.

INSTAGRAM

[hsh0705]: keken_0406 just started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

 He’d been waiting for this. Sanghyuk lights up, agile fingers quick to respond as he taps on the notification, immediately directing him to user keken_0406’s livestream. First viewer, as usual. Yes. Sanghyuk smiles as he’s greeted with this familiar screen -- a small room with a dim yellow lighting, a filled bookshelf behind fitting for a cosy backdrop; and in a chair sits the boy named Jaehwan, or so his Instagram biography claims. Sanghyuk thinks it’s such a pretty name. There’s that ever-bright smile on Jaehwan’ face, and a simple guitar slung over his shoulder.

‘Hello!’ Jaehwan starts, eyes curving into little pretty crescents, as a few more viewers slowly stream in. Sanghyuk types out a short ‘hi!’ in the comments, and after some thought, adds a ‘first again!’.

‘Hi,’ Jaehwan chuckles -- it must’ve been his reaction to Sanghyuk’s comment -- the sound of it so pretty, Sanghyuk almost melts in his own chair.

‘Tonight we have… woah! Eighteen viewers!’ Jaehwan exclaims, a genuine, excited lift to his voice. Sanghyuk breaks into a wide smile behind his phone screen.

‘An improvement of three from the last stream, not bad! Hello, fans! And welcome to my very own KeNight!’ Jaehwan waves happily, excitedly, before finally placing pretty fingers over familiar chords, soft strumming noises filling the small room. The sound quality through the livestream isn’t that good, slightly choppy, due to lack of better recording devices, but it’s good. It’s all good.

‘For our new viewers here, I hold my own livestreams biweekly, on every Saturday and Sunday night! Here I’ll just be singing for you guys, either my own favourite songs or your song requests!’ Jaehwan smiles brightly, and Sanghyuk finds himself doing the same.

‘Now let’s have some song requests in, shall we?’

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 [hsh0705]: maroon 5’s sunday morning please?

Sanghyuk’s still clearly remembers his very first attempt at this -- sending in a song request. Despite there being only about ten viewers at that time, his comment had been, sadly, quickly bumped up by a few others. Dejection grew in Sanghyuk’s chest as he watched Jaehwan squint slightly at the screen, reading through the few comments.

‘Ah. This song, one of my favourites!’

Sanghyuk sighed. It surely wasn’t his request, the other commenters were really quick to add their own ones.

‘I think I saw someone comment ‘Sunday morning’ just now, right?’

Oh. Sanghyuk’s heart had skipped a beat, clammy fingers reaching out to quickly type in a response.

[hsh0705]: it was me!

‘Oh? I’ve never seen this username before! Is this your first time streaming?’ A soft smile played on Jaehwan’s full, pretty lips as he started strumming, the tune familiar -- opening chords to ‘Sunday morning’.

[hsh0705]: yeah! just discovered your account a few days ago

Sanghyuk typed, stomach feeling a little fluttery. He thought it was crazy, how Jaehwan knew his viewers and followers so well.

Jaehwan simply smiled, and continued strumming lightly. ‘Nice! Before I begin, may I know your name?’

Sanghyuk had been caught by surprise, not knowing if Jaehwan was being serious, if this was a regular thing in his livestreams, heart racing and thoughts fuzzy. It was his first time streaming after all. The sudden amount of recognition from someone he admired so much, was a little overwhelming.

‘In case you didn’t know,’ Jaehwan kindly explained, as if he’d read Sanghyuk’s mind. ‘Since I only have a few viewers on here I thought it’d be nice to address you guys by your names! Makes things a little more personal and comfortable doesn’t it? But of course it’s okay if you do not wish to--‘

[hsh0705]: han sanghyuk :)

‘Okay,’ Jaehwan giggled softly, probably at how quick Sanghyuk was to give his name.

‘Now, I shall begin. This is dedicated to Han Sanghyuk’

--

Jaehwan sung and played perfectly.

But that night, as Sanghyuk tossed and turned in his bed, heart racing weirdly -- it wasn’t how well Jaehwan had sung his song request that Sanghyuk was thinking about -- it was the continuous echoing of the same three words in his mind.

‘Han Sanghyuk’, in crappy, crackly sound quality; in Jaehwan’s sweet, pretty voice.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 ‘Oh?’ Sanghyuk scrolls back up to that one post which caught his attention. It’s a post by Jaehwan, a picture of what seems to be a chocolate-flavoured drink, placed on a small rounded table -- captioned with a short “iced mocha at my favourite place!”.

Anyone who’s visited that café will immediately recognise that unique, highly aesthetic packaging -- and realisation quickly dawns on Sanghyuk that it is in fact, that little indie café right opposite his dormitory. He’s visited that place maybe once or twice, that’s about it. Sanghyuk isn’t that much of a café-person. But the sudden thought of a shared experience, connection, with Jaehwan, spreads a wave of tingly sensations all over Sanghyuk’s skin.

He clicks on Jaehwan’s username. Jaehwan’s got about twenty more followers now, since a month ago when Sanghyuk had first visited his profile, fell in love, and followed immediately. His biography still reads the same thing: Lee Jaehwan. Jyani. Self-taught guitarist. Self-acclaimed singer. A smile tugs at the corners of Sanghyuk’s lips, before his thumb slips and accidentally taps on the dropdown settings menu for Jaehwan’s profile and--

Sanghyuk stills as his gaze falls on the option, ‘Send a message’ -- it’d never occurred to him that direct messages were always open, free to use. Sanghyuk’s heart thuds in his chest as he taps on the option, directing him to an empty chatroom for the both of them.

Would it be weird to do so, since they are, after all, mere strangers? It’s okay, Jaehwan isn’t obliged to reply anyways, Sanghyuk reasons out -- if Jaehwan didn’t respond, no big deal, Sanghyuk would be perfectly cool with it. And if he did respond, if he actually did -- Sanghyuk bites his lip, not wanting to keep his hopes up too high. Anyway, after all, it is better to have tried and failed, than never to have tried at all, right?

Sanghyuk types out a short “hi!”

His finger hovers over the send button, and Sanghyuk clenches his eyes tightly shut as he finally presses send, before quickly exiting the chat and placing his phone face down on his lap. That was wild, Sanghyuk exhales. The screen of his phone burns hot against his thigh. God, how stupid, stupid stupid, Sanghyuk thinks. It isn’t even like he’s texting a crush, or anything of that sort, why’s he acting all--

His thoughts are smoothly interrupted by his phone, vibrating and sounding shortly with a notification. Sanghyuk nearly jumps out of his seat -- it’s a wonder he’d managed to save his flying phone, clammy fingers, sweaty palms and all. Sanghyuk swallows nervously, and cracks an eye open to look at his notifications.

INSTAGRAM

[hsh0705]: keken_0406: hey!

[hsh0705]: keken_0406: you’re sanghyuk, right? han sanghyuk, if my memory hasn’t failed me?

Oh God. Sanghyuk rubs his eyes a little, before opening them again, almost comically wide. This is not a drill. Sanghyuk lets out an excited little cry, and quickly taps on the notification, entering once again into their chat.

[hsh0705]:

yeah! nailed it!

it’s seriously amazing how you even remember such little details…

[keken_0406]:

nah, it’s easy since i have few listeners, you know?

kinda sad, but it’s also really nice because i can get closer to my followers :)

[hsh0705]:

exactly!!

and don’t worry, with your amazing talent i’m sure you’ll grow bigger in no time ^^

[keken_0406]:

aww, thank you!

Sanghyuk releases the deep breath he’d been holding this entire time, unknowingly. The fact that this conversation is even happening, doesn’t even feel real. Sanghyuk pinches his arm once again just to confirm, and -- yes. This is real life.

[hsh0705]:

it’s really hard to put into words how thankful i am to have discovered your account…

but like, i really really like you?

as in i really admire you!

in case you might’ve gotten the wrong idea.. oops

but i mean i always listen to your singing videos and they make me really happy! and i listen to your streams at night while doing schoolwork and i must say your voice really motivates me to press on! i’m not sure how, but.. yeah :)

Stupid, stupid, Sanghyuk swears under his breath. Jaehwan must be pretty freaked out right now. Darn it.

[keken_0406]:

oh?

wahh i don’t even know how to respond to this i’m so so flattered!

;;;;;

i started out here to bless others with my voice, and to know it actually is happening is so heartwarming

you have no idea how much this means to me! you’re probably the first listener so far that’s sent me such nice messages ;;

Sanghyuk reads all of this with his bottom lip worried between his teeth, he can feel his cheeks growing hotter with each sentence, chest swelling with indescribable joy.

[keken_0406]:

thank you very very much

sanghyuk

[hsh0705]:

don’t have to thank me, i’m just stating facts ahh

knowing you’re happy makes me happy too ;;

Wait, that sounded a little weird. Sanghyuk feels the deep flush spreading down to his neck, and he recalls what led him to clicking on Jaehwan’s account again. Thank goodness, something to change the topic.

[hsh0705]:

oh right before i forget!!

[keken_0406]:

hm?

[hsh0705]:

the picture you just posted… your favourite place.. i know that café!

by any chance, do you live around in this neighbourhood too?

[keken_0406]:

oh you recognised it? nice! do you like that place too?

and yes, i live just around there!

[hsh0705]:

ehh, sorry i’m not that big of a fan of cafés, i only know that place because i study in the nearby university! our dormitories are just right opposite

woahh i can’t believe you live so close by, we live in a small world indeed!

[keken_0406]:

holy shit i graduated from there last year… glad i’m out of it

that’s cool! first year, second year?

[hsh0705]:

first!

[keken_0406]:

wait… isn’t this your exam period then?

[hsh0705]:

…yeah, actually

[keken_0406]:

hey! then you better stop chatting now! go study and get those stellar grades!

my aim is to better others’ lives, not hinder or be a distraction :’)

Distraction. Jaehwan could not have used a better word.

[hsh0705]:

you sound exactly like my mom, lol

yes i’ll get off instagram soon but just before i go!

[keken_0406]:

yes dear?

[hsh0705]:

i’m just curious, have you any plans to hold some sort of mini fanmeet or anything else along those lines?

[keken_0406]:

oh?

i’ve never actually thought of that…

but that’s an interesting idea, i’ll definitely consider!

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 A few hell weeks later and those darned exams are finally over. Thank goodness.

But Sanghyuk’s not checked Instagram in a long time. Jaehwan couldn’t have announced a fanmeet right after their chat and was already done with it, could he? Shit, he hadn’t considered that. Sanghyuk hastily re-installs the app that he’d deleted right before the exams (to clear all distractions, specifically Jaehwan), and the first thing he does is to search up Jaehwan’s profile, breath held.

Sanghyuk’s heart races as he looks through the posts that he’d missed -- it’s mainly singing videos, as usual; and the most recent post, a day ago -- it’s a picture in that same café, a selfie this time, captioned with:

“Announcement! After some consideration, I’ve decided to hold a mini fanmeet! Nothing official, just maybe a chat at this cosy café, and maybe I’ll be singing a few songs for you at the open park nearby! So this Saturday, if you’re free, do make your way here and I’ll be waiting at 2pm! Details on the address is down below ^^ Excited~~”

Sanghyuk double checks the time of post, and -- yes. It was posted a day ago. That means Saturday will be in… three days. Holy shit. There’s bright smile on Sanghyuk’s face as he opens up their chat.

[hsh0705]:

hey i’m back from exams :D

and i came back to news of your fanmeet ahh i’m so excited!!

[keken_0406]:

the idea was all thanks to you :))

and yes i’m excited too!

glad you’re back, how were your exams?

[hsh0705]:

they went okay, i guess

had to delete instagram for a bit because otherwise i’d be way too distracted lol

[keken_0406]:

distractions, do you mean me? ;)

[hsh0705]:

yeah.

Jaehwan probably thinks Sanghyuk’s just playing along with him, right? After some thought, Sanghyuk sighs and types in a few more words.

[hsh0705]:

just kidding, haha

Not really.

[keken_0406]:

ahh, and that also explains why i didn’t see my usual ‘first viewer’ in the last few streams

[hsh0705]:

holy shit

i mean, woah

you didn’t forget about me

[keken_0406]:

you thought i would’ve forgotten about you??

you’re so cute

of course i won’t

[hsh0705]:

that’s a relief ^^

i was scared because i thought i would be too late

as in, that your fanmeet would’ve already been over by the time i got back on ;;

thank goodness you just announced it

[keken_0406]:

ah yes

i took into account that you were having exams too, sanghyuk

that’s why i pushed the date a few weeks back

‘I love you so much,’ Sanghyuk types out in what Jaehwan probably will perceive as a playful tone -- but fully meaning it. Taking in a deep breath, Sanghyuk pauses, finger hovering over the backspace button, before deleting the sentence in a flurry.

[hsh0705]:

what can i say

you’re an angel

[keken_0406]:

0:)

see you in three days, then?

[hsh0705]:

yeah!

Sanghyuk spends the rest of the night in bed, re-reading their conversation over and over, a dreamy smile fixed on his face. He’s on a slippery slope down, from here.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 Sanghyuk blinks sleepily, having just woken up -- and immediately (clumsily) reaches out for his phone, switching it on. It’s already eleven a.m, goodness, it’s been a while since he’d slept in so late -- Sanghyuk should’ve probably gone to bed earlier instead of staying up feeling all jittery for The Day.  Smiling, Sanghyuk opens up Instagram -- the first post on his feed is from Jaehwan, a mirror selfie. He’s wearing a baby pink-coloured oversized shirt, with a little red heart towards the left of his chest, tucked into a pair of tight-fitting black jeans. Really cute.

“A few hours more to our mini fanmeet~ >

Great. Gathering up all of the newfound energy he’d just gotten from Jaehwan’s update, Sanghyuk leaps out of bed -- haphazardly arranging the sheets before heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Now, the toughest part. Sanghyuk throws open the doors of his closet, in an almost majestic way, as if that’s going to change anything -- only to be greeted with a poor and almost pathetic variety of clothing choices. Sanghyuk sighs, it isn’t something unexpected. Never cared much about outfits or his appearance at all.

Not today, though.

After a good fifteen minutes of contemplation (the longest time Sanghyuk’s ever spent in front of his closet -- most of the time he just grabs the first thing his fingers meet and that’s that), Sanghyuk ends up with a plain button-up white top, with a pair of black pants similar to Jaehwan’s. Sighing, Sanghyuk grabs the pot of hair gel on his table, before positioning himself before the full-length wall mirror (rarely used). Cautiously, Sanghyuk dips the tips of his fingers into the barely-used gel and scoops some out, then carefully runs them through his hair, slicks his fringe up so as to look that much more presentable.

Done. Not bad at all. Now, just for some minor touch-ups -- Sanghyuk unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt, pauses, decides that two would look better, then unbuttons the second one as well. The look is finally completed when Sanghyuk rolls his sleeves up slightly, forearms exposed.

‘Looking good,’ Sanghyuk breathes as he examines his reflection -- his heart pounds loudly in his chest. He thinks to Jaehwan, and all he manages is a weak smile.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 When Sanghyuk steps into the café, it definitely doesn’t look like how Sanghyuk pictured it out to be -- instead of it bustling with customers, there’s only a minimal scattering of people around the shop. Sanghyuk quickly looks at his phone to check the time again -- nope, didn’t miss the timing. Slightly bewildered, Sanghyuk briefly glances over the customers in the café at the moment -- and there, Sanghyuk finally sees someone sporting a similar outfit to what Jaehwan had posted earlier, at the corner of the café, a guitar bag beside him and all. It must be Jaehwan -- Sanghyuk bites his lip and brushes his sweaty palms against his pants before taking slow, nervous steps towards the table.

‘J-Jaehwan?’

Sanghyuk had imagined their first encounter to be slightly cooler. Definitely not starting off with a damn stutter.

The boy turns around, their gazes meeting and -- it is Jaehwan, and God, he is so pretty. Looking a lot better than how those low-quality pictures make him out to be. Sanghyuk stuns for a while, lost somewhere in those large, shiny orbs and the gorgeous long line of his nose, those full lips that look pinker and smoother in person and his soft looking cheeks that Sanghyuk so badly wants to pinch. He doesn’t realise that Jaehwan’s stood up, large eyes now in the shape of pretty crescents, hand extended.

‘Yes, hello! And who might you--‘

‘Sanghyuk! First viewer,’ Sanghyuk laughs weakly, and makes sure to wipe his palms off again before shyly accepting the handshake. Jaehwan’s hand is soft and small, just like himself.

‘Ah, you’re Sanghyuk!’ Jaehwan smiles so wide, voice lifted and he sounds genuinely excited. ‘You’re a first year student? No way! You’re so tall,’ Jaehwan says, a little too animatedly. Adorable. ‘And you look, woah.’ Jaehwan slowly scans Sanghyuk up and down, and Sanghyuk could just as well melt into the ground, now, his cheeks most probably a flaming red. ‘Very mature,’ Jaehwan concludes, smiling. ‘In a good way, of course.’

‘Ahh, thank you! You look really good too,’ Sanghyuk says, voice coming out a little higher than usual. Jaehwan’s shy smile and the faint rosy blush on his cheeks at the compliment are too much for Sanghyuk, who takes his eyes off Jaehwan’s pretty face to look at his hair instead.

‘Also, your pictures are deceptive, you’re a lot shorter than what I imagined you to be,’ Sanghyuk jokes, and the shy smile is off Jaehwan’s face, now a playful pout playing on his lips instead. Much better.

‘Hey,’ Jaehwan lightly punches at a grinning Sanghyuk’s shoulder, and the fact that he’s standing a few inches shorter than Sanghyuk makes the situation seem even more amusing. Very threatening. Sanghyuk chuckles, and Jaehwan stands up straight, pushing his shoulders out and his chest forward. The crown of his head is still visible to Sanghyuk, the action doing barely anything to boost Jaehwan’s height.

‘You’re just… you’re just too tall, okay. I’m tall! I’m tall, but.. you’re taller.’ Jaehwan giggles and sits back down. ‘You remind me of a big bear.’

‘Bear?’ Sanghyuk sits down in an empty seat opposite Jaehwan, smiling. ‘Interesting, no one’s told me that before.’

‘That’s strange, the resemblance is like, a hundred percent.’

‘Yeah? Sure, if you say so…’ Sanghyuk meets Jaehwan’s soft gaze again, and it awakens the tiny butterflies in his tummy once again. Time to change the topic. ‘Have you been waiting a long time?’

‘About thirty minutes before you came,’ Jaehwan grins. ‘You really live up to your ‘first’ title, Sanghyuk. First viewer, now firstcomer again.’

‘I like you that much,’ Sanghyuk says, serious -- it’s at this that he notices Jaehwan has got really cute, pointed ears, because they perk up just the slightest bit at that comment. Gosh. ‘Basically I’m your biggest, loyal-est fan!’ Sanghyuk adds in, and smiles weakly. Jaehwan laughs at this, the sound soft and breathy and all Sanghyuk’s ever wanted to hear.

‘Wow. What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing fan like you, Sanghyuk,’ Jaehwan grins, and playfully reaches forward to ruffle a currently schoolboy-flushed and absolutely bewildered Sanghyuk’s hair.

‘Anyway, I’m not sure if we’re expecting any more fans to come,’ Jaehwan pauses, and Sanghyuk catches the way Jaehwan’s soft mouth twists sadly, for just split second -- Sanghyuk so badly wants to kiss that disappointment away -- and then a smile is back on Jaehwan’s face. ‘I probably didn’t take into account that this place may be out of the way for some of my other listeners, huh?’

Jaehwan looks down, casts his hurt gaze onto his half consumed drink, avoiding Sanghyuk’s eyes. Sanghyuk so badly wants to reach forward, to pet Jaehwan’s hair, his shoulders, and tell him that it’s okay, that everything is going to be alright. His fingers curl into the material of his dress shirt instead, unmoving.

‘Right!’ Jaehwan looks up, a pretty twinkle back in his eyes, any hint of prior emotion now gone -- and Sanghyuk’s heart aches just the slightest bit. ‘How rude of me, not to wait for you to get some food first!

‘Nah, it’s fine! Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind just chatting like this… I’m not sure if I’ll like the stuff here, I’m rather picky with food and drinks.’

‘Are you serious? No way! I’ll convert you today,’ Jaehwan gets out of his seat with an adorable look of determination in his eyes. ‘Now come with me,’ and Jaehwan doesn’t give Sanghyuk much of a choice either, just grabs at Sanghyuk’s hand, urging him out of his seat, excitedly dragging the both of them to the counter.

‘So. Look at this wonderful array of choices,’ Jaehwan gestures towards the menu, neat lines written in pastel chalks on a blackboard, and Sanghyuk’s got to admit the variety of choices is pretty awesome. ‘Swayed yet?’ Jaehwan looks up excitedly at Sanghyuk, and it takes all of him not to smile, but keep a straight face instead, which has Jaehwan sulking.

‘Regardless, you’re getting something from here today! What kind of drinks do you like, Sanghyuk?’

‘Um… Tea?’

‘Tea? Gosh, you’re really old-fashioned for someone who looks as edgy as you,’ Jaehwan sighs, shaking his head, fluffy hair swaying gently about. ‘Hmm, what kind of tea? Green tea?’

‘Yeah, that’s nice.’

‘Then I have just the thing for you!’ Jaehwan chirps, and Sanghyuk’s starting to wonder if Jaehwan’s getting sponsored by this café to promote their food or something. Sanghyuk looks at Jaehwan as he walks up to the counter and happily orders ‘one cup of hot matcha latte, please.’ Jaehwan fishes out his wallet and pays for the drink with a few loose, crumpled bills, and passes the drink over to Sanghyuk when done.

‘Here! Looks great, doesn’t it?’ Jaehwan smiles warmly, stuffing his wallet back into his jeans pocket. ‘Tastes even better, I assure you. It’s one of this café’s specialities, very highly raved about!’

‘Thank you,’ Sanghyuk accepts the cup gratefully, the drink warming his hand immediately. The drink is complete with a little heart on top, some kind of simple latte art, Sanghyuk supposes, but very pretty. ‘Hold on, let’s get back to the table so I can pay you back.’

‘Don’t,’ Jaehwan says, ‘It’s a gift of appreciation,’ Jaehwan explains and laughs softly.

Sanghyuk tries to convince Jaehwan otherwise, feeling really bad as it is their first meeting after all -- but Sanghyuk quickly learns that when Jaehwan insists, he gets his way. No buts, no point arguing back. In the end Sanghyuk relents, and promises to treat Jaehwan back some other time -- and Jaehwan nods sure, pretty pink on his cheeks.

The matcha latte tastes amazing, and Jaehwan laughs in the kind of ‘See, I told you’ way, happy at Sanghyuk’s amusing (eyes wide, jaw dropped) reaction. The hot drink warms Sanghyuk’s insides so nicely, comforting in this chilly weather -- but different from the way Jaehwan does to Sanghyuk. The unstoppable bouts of warm mushy feelings in Sanghyuk’s chest each time Jaehwan smiles or does simply anything at all -- Sanghyuk thinks that might just be love.

They finish their drinks soon enough, exchanging shy smiles and gazes.

‘I doubt we’re expecting any more people,’ Jaehwan gets out of his seat, and slings his guitar bag over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go out to the park? I know a nice place where I can sing a few songs, just for you,’ Jaehwan looks up at Sanghyuk with such a kind look in those large eyes, (and honestly, how is it possible for Sanghyuk not to sway?) ‘--and then we can call it a day.’

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 Sanghyuk does keep his promise of making it up to Jaehwan by treating him back -- they meet again, the next week, and the next, and then the following one. Sanghyuk finds himself opening up a lot more to Jaehwan, understanding and empathetic Jaehwan who always listens, always speaks out of such a sincere and pure heart. They’ve both gotten to know each other so much better, gradually revealed little precious bits of themselves to each other, and -- at moments like this, it’s just hard to believe that there ever was a time where their relationship was simply a small struggling singer and his supportive fan, no less, no more.

Sanghyuk finds himself falling deeper, deeper into an endless pit of fluttery feelings for a soft boy with an unending love for others and completely deserving of all of that love back, oh, if not more.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 [hsh0705]:

hey!

so, we meeting at the café tomorrow as usual? ^^

[keken_0406]:

sorry, not this week!

i’m meeting someone really important, to discuss some stuff

actually, i’ll be pretty busy starting now so i’m not sure if we’ll have time to meet as often anymore ;;

[hsh0705]:

oh?

ahh, is that so :(

[keken_0406]:

yeah, i’m afraid

but don’t worry!

i’m going to be experimenting with something a little new for you fans :D

[hsh0705]:

ooh?

[keken_0406]:

yeah!

since, sanghyuk, you’ve been such a precious fan to me, i’ll let you in on some secret information ;)

i’ve wanted to try this out for a long time, and i’ve finally settled on it!

i’ll be doing a collaboration with one other small Instagrammer who makes music

[hsh0705]:

oh?

who?

[keken_0406]:

now that’ll be too much info heheh

wait for it on my next livestream!

this saturday night

please anticipate it!!

i’m really excited for this ahh

really hope you guys will like it, it’ll mean so much to me :))))

[hsh0705]:

ahh

of course!

i’ll definitely be anticipating this weekends’ livestreams then ^^

Sanghyuk exits the chat, feeling happy, of course, because Jaehwan’s happy; but yet there’s a strange, sad feeling, stubbornly settling in the confines of his chest. His gaze falls on the smiling teddy bear on his drawer -- a precious gift he’d contemplated over and over about, had struggled so much over how and when to give it -- and he’d meant to finally pass it to Jaehwan the next day. It’ll have to wait, then. Sanghyuk sighs and curls up in his bed, holds the soft bear close to his breast -- willing for the dull, unexplainable ache, to go away.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 ‘Hello!’

Sanghyuk smiles at his screen as Jaehwan waves to the camera. He’s looking extra soft tonight, brown hair set in soft pretty curls across his forehead, and he’s wearing a fluffy white sweater, looking huge on his rather petite frame, the top nearly slipping off his shoulders. ‘Hello, my--’ Jaehwan leans in closer and squints a little at the screen, ‘--my twenty-five precious viewers! Welcome to KeNight!’

‘Today I have a surprise for you guys,’ Jaehwan starts, and strums his guitar lightly, humming sweetly as he reads all of the comments. Most of them are surprised, commenting question marks, and Sanghyuk smiles to himself. ‘Today I have someone very, very special joining me in our livestream.’

Oh. There’s a small stab of pain in Sanghyuk’s chest.

‘Some of you may know him already,’ Jaehwan smiles. ‘Let’s welcome a very talented rapper, Kim Wonshik, or better known as Ravi!’

Sanghyuk focuses on his screen as the boy, Wonshik, crawls out from under Jaehwan’s desk, and waves to the camera, crooked smile playing on his small mouth. He’s got piercings on his ears and nose, wearing a plain white tee and -- tanned skin adorned with a few noticeable tattoos. Next to Jaehwan, sure, he’s handsome, but he looks rather gruff, rough at the edges and -- Sanghyuk doesn’t exactly like this. It’s too early to judge, though, right?

Sanghyuk sighs as Jaehwan introduces Wonshik to the audience, not exactly paying attention to what he’s saying. All Sanghyuk sees is how Jaehwan’s more giggly than usual, the shy smiles Sanghyuk treasured so dearly on their dates are especially present in here -- and at one point Jaehwan reaches forward to run his fingers through Wonshik’s platinum blonde and seemingly soft hair, ruffling it up, laughing.

Sanghyuk suddenly thinks to their first meetup, how Jaehwan had done the exact same thing -- the jarring familiarity of it all, it throws a strong punch at Sanghyuk’s chest.

Wonshik, too. He doesn’t take his eyes off Jaehwan, not once -- droopy eyes way too telling, overflowing with affection and the thing is, Wonshik isn’t afraid to show it. Sanghyuk continues watching the stream, helpless, irrational jealousy bubbling in his tummy -- as Wonshik showers Jaehwan with affection, doesn’t refrain from telling Jaehwan how cute he is, unlike Sanghyuk; isn’t afraid to pet Jaehwan’s hair and pet his neck and pinch his neck and his cheeks and everything Sanghyuk’s longed to do, but never has. Wonshik handles out the love that Jaehwan so badly craves back, without restraint, so effortlessly and generously -- it reduces Jaehwan to a giggling, rosy-cheeked mess -- and he’s happy, so happy.

Their voices are a heavenly blend, it cannot be denied. They take requests and sing a few popular songs, most of them following the pattern of Jaehwan’s smooth and thick vocals followed by Wonshik’s rhythmic, relaxing rap breaks over Jaehwan’s soft guitar instrumentals -- and then finally them coming together in the chorus, Wonshik’s deep tones complimenting Jaehwan’s sweet voice perfectly.

Commenters are really active today. Full of compliments and hand clapping emojis and crying faces, expressing their love for the duo. Sanghyuk catches a few comments, saying how good they look together, how they look like such a perfect pair. Saying please, this collaboration cannot be a one-time thing, how it needs to last forever. Jaehwan is beaming by the time the livestream ends -- fully encouraged, overjoyed.

Tonight, marks the first livestream during which Sanghyuk doesn’t leave a single comment, or song request.

 ♪ ♫ ♬

 Sunday morning, rain is falling.

Sanghyuk clutches the coat tighter around himself, quickening his steps as he makes his way towards the café -- gosh it is so cold. Finally, Sanghyuk arrives at his destination, and pushes at the door to enter -- little twinkling bells welcoming and announcing his arrival. The inside of the café is warm from the many heaters placed all around, and oh, so comforting.

A small smile tugs at Sanghyuk’s lips as he orders a cup of hot matcha latte, before making his way towards that very table tucked into the corner. Sanghyuk slips into an empty seat, releasing a deep sigh.

The seat opposite his is empty.

Fumbling a little into his pocket, Sanghyuk finally fishes out the little teddy bear keychain -- thank goodness it didn’t get wet from the rain just now, light brown fur still dry and fluffy and -- a happy smile sewn onto its little face. Sanghyuk sighs and rubs his thumb against its furry face gently.

He’d lost the chance to pass it to Jaehwan.

A wistful smile plays on Sanghyuk’s chapped lips as his gaze falls on the view outside, through the café’s clear glass windows. His cheek presses against the glass, the surface cold and almost slightly stinging against his skin. Sanghyuk sadly observes as falling raindrops make their own little trails down the clear surface, some mingling together and then, never to be seen again.

An image flashes across Sanghyuk’s closed eyes -- Jaehwan, pretty and soft Jaehwan with a fiery passion for music, holding onto his treasured guitar, eyes closed and pretty lips parted around song lyrics. A familiar voice plays in Sanghyuk’s ears, now -- smooth, thick with emotion, and everything nice. Then another voice joins his, low in pitch and blending with Jaehwan’s perfectly and -- there’s suddenly a thrumming, painful ache in Sanghyuk’s chest.

A lot has changed.

Jaehwan no longer sings on his own, he and Wonshik now make music as a duo, on a separate account. Popularity came creeping in fast, ever since that eventful livestream -- fans absolutely loved their talent, loved how their voices sounded together, how good they looked together. Weekly nightstreams with barely twenty viewers was no more. Never again. First viewer was now impossible, no more personalised song requests. The cosy feeling of familiarity vanished as quickly as how everything began.

Also, there’s now a new something in Jaehwan’s soft eyes, it appears whenever he looks at Wonshik, and Sanghyuk knows it too well. It mirrors exactly how Sanghyuk used to look at him, either through his phone screen during a livestream, or during their short-lived but once-frequent meetups. The only difference is that Jaehwan’s looking at Wonshik like that, and not Sanghyuk.

It’s a feeling that never was meant for Sanghyuk, not once -- it was just Sanghyuk, rash and smitten Sanghyuk, who’d gotten his hopes too high.

But Jaehwan’s truly happy now, doing what he loves, in love -- Sanghyuk should rightfully be feeling glad.

There’s still a suffocating pull in Sanghyuk’s chest, though, and it hurts. Fighting the burning sensation in his eyes and the sharp twinge in his nose, Sanghyuk reaches forward, takes the teddy bear into his trembling hands and presses into its soft belly lightly. A soft, crackly voice recorded message trails from the small keychain.

‘I think… I think I really like you, Jaehwan’

--

any support is greatly appreciated ;~;

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “Not Just My Wingman” Chapter 4/4 (Rated NC17)

Kurt and Blaine are roommates, living in the loft together after Blaine graduates from high school and moves to New York. Kurt is determined that he’s over Blaine, and tries to prove it by helping him get a date…or ultimately, get laid. But when Blaine succeeds in finding a guy that’s actually interested in him, will Kurt realize that he wasn’t as over Blaine as he thought?

***Edit - In case you’re wondering, yes, I had posted this a while ago, but I came back and re-read it…and decided I hated it. So I re-wrote it. It’s basically the same, only the language is way better, as are the characters. So, read it again!

Based on the Tumblr prompt - Where Kurt and Blaine go out club hopping as friends, with each other as their wingman. “I’d like them to kinda be like ‘well, we’re pretty dumb for not realizing how back together we are’ or something, and ultimately get back together. Maybe someone points out that they’re basically together again…”

Passing mention of Rachel and Santana, but they don’t live at the loft. Also, the bedrooms in the loft are actual rooms with doors. Mention of Adam (Adam friendly) and Chandler. (Mentions the break up and Blaine’s cheating.)

Read on AO3.

Chapter 1 -  The Chapter Where Kurt Tried to Get Blaine Laid…and Succeeded

Chapter 2 - The Chapter Where Kurt Freaked Out and Blaine Went on a Date…in that Order

Chapter 3 -  The Chapter Where We Find Out What the Hell Happened to Kurt

For the remainder of the week, Kurt and Blaine barely saw each other, and they definitely didn't speak. They didn’t text. They didn’t even acknowledge one another if they happened to find themselves in the same room together. Kurt left the loft earlier than necessary every morning to seek refuge at his favorite coffee house, drowning his sorrows in various flavors of chai tea since nonfat mochas had suddenly developed the power to bring him to tears.

They didn’t make eye contact when they passed each other in the halls at school between classes, but Blaine would often turn and watch Kurt walk away when he knew that Kurt wouldn’t catch him.

Blaine couldn’t help it.

He missed him.

Blaine spent his nights with DeLeon since the man’s days in New York were numbered. Soon he would be packing up and boarding a flight to London. After that, Blaine had no idea what would happen back at the loft.

Would Kurt continue to ignore him? Leave early every day and look past him in the hallways?

Could Blaine live like that, with Kurt acting like he didn’t exist?

Blaine contemplated moving out since he didn't want to make Kurt uncomfortable. He didn't want Kurt to feel like he had to go to extraordinary lengths to avoid him. The loft had been Kurt’s home long before Blaine moved to New York, but Blaine could easily imagine Kurt hiding in the costume shop at NYADA at night, or the vault at Vogue so he wouldn't have to come home to a place where Blaine lived.

Blaine didn’t want that. If their friendship was over, and he prayed it wasn’t over, he didn’t want chasing Kurt out of his home to be the last impression Kurt had of him.

On DeLeon's last night in New York, Blaine made an attempt to chip away at Kurt's carefully constructed armor by inviting him along to their Bon Voyage night out on the town.

Blaine and DeLeon had come up with the idea to invite Kurt together, but Blaine made it a point not to mention that part.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine begged, checking his watch for the twentieth time in five minutes, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Kurt, who shielded himself behind his issue of Vogue. "It's going to be a blast! And you need to get out. You haven't gone out a single night this week, have you?"

"How would you know?" Kurt grumbled, pretending to read an article on the resurgence of dyed faux fur accents. "You aren't here at night anymore. I could be whoring myself out in your bedroom and you wouldn't have a clue."

"Kurt, I think I'd notice that," Blaine chuckled, hoping that comment was Kurt's attempt at diffusing a tense situation through humor. This was the first time they’d spoken to one another all week. Frankly, Blaine was ecstatic that Kurt didn’t immediately vault off the couch and race into his bedroom the second Blaine walked through the loft door. He took it as a good sign. But when Kurt didn't even crack a smile, Blaine realized that Kurt was still upset, more so than Blaine had anticipated.

This week they’d spent apart had done little to cool Kurt’s temper.

Kurt turned the page he had been glaring murderously at, even though he’d only read the headline and photo captions.

"But, seriously," Blaine continued, "I think you'd have a great time."

Kurt scoffed and turned another unread page, counting the minutes until Blaine left so he could get a start on his pity party.

"Do you think I want to watch you and your stewardess friend pawing all over each other while I sit in a corner and chug Shirley Temples? If I want to watch porn, I can stream it off the Internet. I've been considering getting a Cockyboys membership, anyway."

Blaine sighed. Kurt and porn weren't two words that one often uttered in the same sentence. The thought of Kurt sitting on the couch, miserable and alone, with a cheesecake in his lap, watching two guys going at it through the spaces between his fingers the way a little kid watches a slasher film, grabbed a hold of Blaine’s heart and twisted.

Once again, Blaine considered canceling and staying home. He wouldn’t tell Kurt this time since Kurt would probably just tell him to go. Yes, DeLeon was leaving for London in the morning, but Blaine had spent quite a bit of time with him this week. He was sure DeLeon would understand.

Even if he didn't, would it matter? DeLeon was leaving, and who knew when he would be back.

A loud knock ended the non-conversation.

The door slid open and DeLeon stepped in. "Hey guys!"

“Hey!” Blaine turned and waved cheerfully to the man headed his way, but a second later, his eyes darted back to Kurt. In the small space of time that Blaine had turned his attention away, Kurt had huddled as close to the arm of the couch as possible, with the edges of the throw wrapped around his shoulders clutched tight in his fist. He hunched down, burying himself deeper into an interview with Rihanna.

DeLeon sashayed up to Blaine. He laced a hand with Blaine’s and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Kurt groaned quietly, his nose practically sinking into the seam of his magazine.

"Sorry for the intrusion," DeLeon said in the rhythm of a Beyonce song he’d been humming. Kurt frowned. He didn’t expect the man to have such a melodious tenor voice. But why not? The man was built, handsome, and could apparently carry a tune. And now he was dating Blaine. The man had everything. "But Blaine said you guys usually keep the door unlocked and that I could come right in. How you get away with that out here in Brooklyn, I'll never understand."

“It helps that we don’t own anything worth stealing,” Blaine joked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” DeLeon raised a hand to run a finger down Blaine’s cheek. “I’d break in here just to snatch up the two of you.”

Blaine kissed DeLeon’s hand when it came close to his mouth.

Kurt smiled begrudgingly, but didn't lift his eyes from his magazine.

DeLeon bent over to catch Kurt's gaze. When he realized he wouldn't, he stood back up. Never one to be deterred, he smiled, preparing to try again.

"You know, for a fashion maven such as yourself, this look is a little low-key for the night we had in mind, Kurt."

Kurt harrumphed. DeLeon smile wider.

"He said no," Blaine answered for him, gazing plaintively at the rug beneath his feet. DeLeon looked from the disappointed man by his side to the stubborn one sitting on the couch, staring at an ad for Dior, and decided to try, and succeed, where Blaine had failed.

"Well, too bad." DeLeon grabbed Kurt by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "It wasn't a request. So put on the sexiest thing you have, darling, because we are partying hardy with six of the hottest men who ever played for our team. And get a move on. You've got five minutes."

Kurt glared, mortified, at the man with tremendous biceps who practically lifted him into the air, but then he caught sight of Blaine staring at his shoes with a hopeful smile on his lips.

Kurt could never refuse that smile. It was Kurt’s kryptonite. But he wasn't going to pretend to be happy about it.

"Fine. But five minutes only gets you mildly sexy. If you want truly devastating, I'll need fifteen."

"Take your time then. I’m willing to wait for devastating. I’ve heard it’s something to see." DeLeon swatted Kurt on the backside. Kurt spun, shooting daggers at both of them when they dissolved into giggles, turning in toward one another like conspiratorial teenagers. He stared at them a little longer than he should have, which is why he saw DeLeon lean in to kiss Blaine’s neck … and Blaine close his eyes to enjoy it.

And somewhere in his heart, that he had let grow hard against any amount of Blaine's lingering love for him, a single sliver fractured off.

***

They took three subways into Manhattan to a nightclub Kurt had never heard of before, but that DeLeon insisted was the hangout for flight attendants when they hit the city.

“It has an awesome vibe,” he said, leading Kurt from the subway car with their arms linked together (the other looped inside Blaine's, walking three across with DeLeon in the center like they were performing in an all-male remake of The Wizard of Oz, skipping down the Yellow Brick Road), “the hottest dancers, the tastiest specialty drinks, and the music! Man, it is always bumping! Am I right, Blainey?”

Kurt turned his head to look past DeLeon at Blaine. Blainey?

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, looking at Kurt. “This place is seriously fantastic, and the music is on hit! You’re gonna love it!”

Kurt watched DeLeon bend to Blaine’s ear and whisper something that made him nod and titter. “Oh my God!” Blaine said. “I totally forgot! That was the best!”

So, Blainey agreed it was hot. Which meant he'd already been there.

They hadn’t even left the subway and Kurt hated it immediately.

They could hear the music pounding all the way from the subway turn-stall. Once they got up top and crossed the street, Kurt saw that the line to get in wrapped completely around the building. But DeLeon blew by the line and managed to get them through the ropes, kissing the cheeks of the bouncers at the entrance. The trio had barely taken a step through the doors when they were mobbed by six extremely handsome, astonishingly well-built men, with freakishly perfect teeth and flawless skin.

That must be the package deal for flight attendants, Kurt thought. The minute you sign on, they cap your teeth and perform some ritual that magically fixes your skin. But even as he privately jeered, he made a note to ask one of these guys what exfoliator and moisturizers they used because damn!

“Kurt” - DeLeon put his hands on Kurt’s shoulders in a familiar way that irritated Kurt to no end - “this is Savon, Michael, Kevin, Trey, Dominick, and Stephen. Guys …” DeLeon pushed Kurt slightly forward, as if presenting him for the group’s approval. “This is Kurt.”

“So, we finally get to meet the famous Kurt,” Kevin said, taking Kurt’s hand in his and kissing it.

“Enchante,” Savon said, taking Kurt’s other hand at kissing it as well.

"Oh … my … goodness,” Kurt murmured. “Why don't I fly more often?" He was sure no one could hear him over the pulsing music, but DeLeon did.

“I’ll find a way to comp you some tickets so you can join our Mile High Club,” he whispered. “Have at him, boys!” He shoved Kurt headlong into the throng of men and let them lead the way out on to the dance floor.

Twelve songs into the evening, Kurt's shirt clung to his torso, almost entirely see-thru with sweat, which Kurt normally hated, but he was loosening up. He felt more carefree than he had all week. These six guys, who seemed entirely focused on him and him alone, were so sweet, so nice, so complimentary, that he could almost let go and pretend that this was a normal night out, that he was free of his feelings for Blaine, but his enjoyment dimmed every time he caught a glimpse of Blaine and DeLeon grinding together, their hands all over each other, smiling, talking, sharing little pecks, lost in their own little world.

Kurt remembered that world.

And even surrounded by six men who could classify as super models, apparently willing to cater to his every whim, he missed that world.

He missed Blaine.

Another song started, a slower song. He saw Blaine and DeLeon wrap their arms around each other. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t not watch. He had to put some distance between him and them before he went crazy.

"I think I'm going to sit this one out, boys," Kurt announced. “Don’t miss me too much.” He walked briskly away to a chorus of disappointed groans and pleas to come back soon. He headed through the crowd toward a ring of tables, trying not to break into a gallop in his need to be away from Blaine and DeLeon.

But the universe rarely ever worked in Kurt's favor.

No sooner did he claim a vacant booth than DeLeon slid in beside him, lips curled in a devilish grin.

"Leaving the dance floor so soon?" he purred. "The party's just getting started."

"Yeah, well, I think I overdid it a bit," Kurt lied, gaze rising from DeLeon's eyes to lock with Blaine's as he joined them, his eyes wide and full of concern. “That dance floor’s a little too hot with me on it.”

"Why don't I get us some drinks?" Blaine offered, resting a hand on DeLeon's shoulder and squeezing gently. Kurt's eyes followed that hand, felt the squeeze on his own skin, and he swallowed hard.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Kurt said, looking away. “I’m good.”

DeLeon put a hand over Blaine's and patted gently. "I'll have a rum and coke.”

"You've got it," Blaine said with a wink. He waited one more pause to see if Kurt would change his mind, then headed off to the bar.

DeLeon watched him go.

When he turned back to Kurt, the mischievous glint was still in his eyes, but the expression on his face was much more serious.

"When are you going to tell that man that you’re still in love with him?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

Kurt sat straight up, jerking back in his seat. "Excuse me?" he said indignantly.

DeLeon rolled his eyes, far too done with this conversation already.

"I see you," DeLeon said, tapping his temple. "I see you watching us. If you think you're hiding anything, you're mistaken."

Kurt chuckled viciously. "Then maybe it’s a good thing you’re sitting down because I think the heat is getting to you. That, or you seriously need to have your vision checked."

DeLeon slid in closer. Kurt fought the urge to slide further away.

"You see, I want to like you," DeLeon said, "but when you say things like that, you make it really hard. Now usually I'd tear you a new one for being such a bitch, especially when I went through the trouble to ensure that you would be thoroughly entertained tonight, but seeing as you probably wouldn't be in this situation if your boy Blaine hadn't cheated on you, I'm gonna let it slide."

At the mention of his name, Kurt's eyes subconsciously swept the club to find him. And he did find Blaine, with surprising swiftness, standing at the bar, waiting for their drinks.

"Even hearing Blaine’s side of things, I’m gonna tell you, you weren’t wrong,” DeLeon continued. “And I told him that … repeatedly. He should have driven past that hotel, gotten on a plane, and talked to you face to face before sticking his dick in someone else. You have every right not to take him back if that’s what you really want. But I know that face. Fuck, I've even worn that face. And that is most definitely love, son."

DeLeon's expression softened, his eyes following Kurt's where they rested on Blaine's back. He could easily picture Kurt’s face on the night Blaine told him he cheated. Blaine’s story had broken DeLeon’s heart, but Kurt’s story, the one he hadn’t even heard from the source, hurt worse. It was the one that DeLeon could relate to. He had hoped that he could get Kurt to open up to him, but Kurt stayed tight lipped, staring longingly at his ex.

So DeLeon decided to try a different tactic to get Kurt to spill.

"Or maybe I'm wrong.” He shrugged. “Maybe those heart eyes of yours are staring at his sweet, sweet ass."

Kurt's head snapped so quickly back to the man beside him, he was sure he’d pulled something in his neck.

"Yup, that boy has a fine behind," DeLeon remarked, watching Kurt react. As he suspected, Kurt's shoulders tightened, his back went rigid, and his jaw clenched. "Too bad I didn't get the chance to see it."

Kurt's hands balled reflexively, but his face morphed from disgust to confusion in the blink of an eye.

"Wait … b-but … he's been spending every night this week at your place. I thought you two were …"

"Well, the first night he came over I tried," DeLeon admitted. "Lord knows I tried. But he stopped me before I could do anything." DeLeon grimaced at the memory. "And I was so close, too."

"So, what did happen?" Kurt hated that he was curious, but he needed the truth to erase his heartbreaking fantasies of Blaine and this man making love to one another.

"He said he was sorry and asked if we could just be friends. Seeing as I'm leaving for London and then God knows where after that for a few months, I agreed it was probably for the best."

Kurt felt relieved, which he knew he probably shouldn’t. He was being unfair. He had no exclusive rights to Blaine anymore. And he had made that decision. But he was also confused. He shut his eyes, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together, especially after what he had seen of their behavior with his own eyes. "So, what has he been doing at your place?"

DeLeon shook his head, as if the answer was blaringly obvious and Kurt's denseness far from amusing. "Giving you space."

Kurt threw his hands up in frustration. "Why didn’t he just tell me the truth?”

"No disrespect, man, but did you give him the chance? Or did you get upset and back him into a corner? Because I think both you and I know the answer to that."

Kurt wanted to be angry at Blaine for lying about sleeping with DeLeon, but then he thought about the last few days of avoiding Blaine like he was the plague or a Sears Department Store. His cheeks pinked with embarrassment, and then with a touch of anger. It was one thing for Kurt to recognize his own shortcomings, but another to have his ex's current sort-of platonic fling shove it in his face.

Shortcomings that DeLeon would only know if Blaine was talking about him behind his back.

Kurt’s eyes shot open wide. "Now wait …"

"Before you get all high-pitched on me, no, he didn't say anything," DeLeon said, his arms raised in defense. "I just happen to know a thing or two about flying off the handle. I can get kind of high-pitchy, too."

“So …”

“I guessed, and he might have confirmed … vaguely. That’s all I’m sayin’. I don’t need to get that boy into any more trouble.” DeLeon chuckled. “He obviously does that fine on his own.”

Kurt nodded, relaxing even though he wasn't sure how any of this would change things between him and Blaine. But Kurt's shoulders squared again when another thought entered his mind.

"What about the grinding and the touching and the little kisses between the two of you?" Kurt asked, becoming high-pitchy anyway.

"So, I took a few liberties,” DeLeon said. “Can you blame me? Look at him. He's gorgeous … but you already know that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt watched Blaine walk toward their table, eyes trained solely on him as if he were the center of the known universe and a few others as well.

DeLeon saw it, too, and sighed. "Unfortunately for me, he's all yours, sunshine."

Blaine set the drinks down, sliding a glass of clear, bubbly liquid overflowing with cherries in front of Kurt.

"I know you said you didn't want anything," Blaine said, "but I thought, you look so hot … I mean flushed … and just in case you changed your mind …"

DeLeon took his rum and coke and sipped it, recognizing with regret just how quickly he had disappeared from Blaine's notice. He wasn’t angry at Blaine. Blaine talked about Kurt like he was the moon and the stars. Even if DeLeon had had a chance with Blaine and they had slept together, he’d only be borrowing him.

It would have been fun, but DeLeon wanted more. He deserved more.

He couldn’t have that with Blaine.

"Look," he interrupted, backing out of the booth, "I don't mean to drink and run, but I've got an early morning. I think I'm going to bow out now."

Blaine watched him stand, his shame at ignoring the man of the hour apparent in the way his mouth stopped working.

"B-but, DeLeon," Blaine stuttered. "Don’t go. I'm sorry if I …"

DeLeon put a hand over Blaine's lips and shushed him. “It’s alright. I get it.” He smiled at Blaine's apologetic eyes and leaned in close, kissing him gently on the lips. Kurt's drink suddenly became very interesting and he glued his eyes to it, counting the cherries in an effort not to burn holes into DeLeon's skull.

Why should Kurt be jealous of a little kiss if they weren’t dating? Though the way his heart seized up at the idea of Blaine kissing DeLeon back pretty much answered that question for him.

DeLeon pulled away from Blaine's lips, sparing a glance at Kurt, who was staring down his drink as if the cherries were marked for death.

"I think it's time you fixed this once and for all, don't you?" DeLeon whispered. Blaine looked at Kurt, too, curled over his drink the same way he had been on the couch when he was crawling into his magazine. He had so many walls built up around him. Blaine did that. Those walls hadn’t been there for years after Blaine helped knock the original ones down. These were new, and they’d been built to protect Kurt’s heart from being broken … by Blaine.

With a final hug, DeLeon walked off into the crowd, disappearing from view.

"You know, come to think about it, I should probably call it a night, too." Kurt slid out of the booth from the opposite end so as not to disturb Blaine, who stared blankly into the crowd as if trying to summon DeLeon back. Kurt was confused how DeLeon could assume that Blaine only wanted Kurt when he seemed genuinely smitten for the sage man who had just gone. Kurt headed off in a different direction, but a hand grabbing his stopped him.

"Don't go," Blaine pleaded softly, his voice managing to rise above the noise even with Kurt's back turned. Blaine pressed his body against Kurt’s, not overbearing or aggressive, the simple warmth of his presence bleeding into Kurt’s skin and simply making itself known.

"Blaine," Kurt started, not sure what he wanted to say, hoping the words would come to him as soon as he opened his mouth, and that he would actually mean them, whatever they were.

"Dance with me?" Blaine dared an arm around Kurt's waist. "Please? Just … just once before you go?"

“You sure you haven’t had enough dancing?” Kurt snapped. “I mean, it looked like you were getting your fill before.”

“It’s not the same when I’m not with you.”

Kurt felt himself melting into Blaine's arm, molding against his body, and it frightened him. It would be this simple, wouldn't it? To fall back together? But what would that mean?

Could it last this time?

He thought about it as he followed Blaine out onto the dance floor, as he let himself get wrapped up in Blaine’s arms, swaying with him to music that didn't match their beat since the music over the speakers pounded through the floor like a rainstorm, and they glided along together like a wave. Between the beats and the laughter and the loud voices, Kurt could hear the occasional I'm sorry …

I miss you so much …

You have no idea how much …

I love you …

I love you more now than I ever have …

I'll do anything …

Anything you want …

I'll even move out … give you more space …

Just please say we get to be boyfriends again …

Kurt heard every word, and he believed them. But before he made any decisions, there were a few things he needed to know. “I … have to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Why did you make me think you and DeLeon had slept together? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Because …” Blaine looked guilty, maybe even more guilty than he had when he told Kurt he’d been with someone else “… when I came home, you were drunk … and you looked destroyed. I was confused, and I wanted to help, but I didn’t know what to do to make it better. You’d been trying for so long to get me together with someone. I thought that if you thought I had been, then you could …”

“Could what?”

“Be free. Have closure so you could move on. It seemed to be what you wanted so much. I thought … I thought you were done with me and that, somehow, I was hurting you. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Well, unfortunately, I think we were both damned if we did and damned if we didn’t.”

“Or, maybe we’re just …”

“… made for each other?” Kurt finished. He was going to say stubborn, but for some reason that came out instead.

Blaine didn’t agree or disagree, but Kurt knew that’s how he felt. He didn’t need to confirm it.

That’s part of what it means when you belong with someone.

Blaine raised a hand to caress Kurt’s cheek and nuzzled his neck.

“Please tell me you still love me,” Blaine whispered. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry, Kurt. I’m so so sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry. And if you want to remind me every day for the rest of my life, then that’s fine, but let me spend that life with you. Tell me I have a chance to fix this. Let me try. We can go to counseling, or I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to go with me. I’ll take classes on how to be a better boyfriend. I’m sure they have some somewhere. And if I can’t make things better, then I’ll accept that I can’t, and I’ll respect any decision you make. I swear I will. But can I have a second chance? Just one more?”

Kurt felt lips press tentatively against his neck, begging for an answer, and with every shy kiss, Kurt felt himself cave. Kurt knew exactly what he wanted. He had for a while. And it didn’t take DeLeon draping his handsome self all over Blaine for Kurt to decide.

Kurt wanted Blaine. Even when he didn’t want Blaine, he wanted Blaine. Even when he couldn’t forgive Blaine, he missed him. Even when he never wanted to speak to Blaine again, sometimes all he wanted was to hear his voice. He hated how much he wanted Blaine because he felt like he was betraying himself, but the fact remained.

And Blaine wanted him, too.

But that was too much for him to put into words without sobbing like an idiot.

"Grrr! Alright, you colossal pain in the ass!" Kurt groaned, feeling a smile on Blaine's lips grow against his skin. "I can't believe we're doing this again! But if we are, we're doing it my way. We're taking it slow. Do you understand?"

“Of course,” Blaine said with a giggle, his lips eagerly finding Kurt’s, kissing him in reply.

***

It was 3 a.m., and it was sweltering. Not in general, and not outside considering it was winter, but in the loft, specifically in Blaine's bedroom, the air was stifling.

Kurt moved over Blaine's body with a deliberate slowness, pushing in deep, then pulling out to the tip, drawing out every low, long moan he possibly could from the man who arched beneath him, sweat rolling down his spine. Kurt had bound Blaine’s wrists with a few of his old scarves, tied together end-to-end so that his left wrist was connected to his right by a string of fabric running underneath the mattress. The more he pulled, the tighter the knots became. There was no way for him to slip free.

Not that Blaine wanted to move. He never wanted to go anywhere ever again.

"God, I missed this," Blaine growled, his voice rough, his body burning. He rose up to meet Kurt when Kurt pushed in again, deeper this time, as if such a thing were even possible. But somehow, Kurt found a way. Kurt met Blaine's mouth and kissed him hard, sucking his top lip between his teeth and biting to hear Blaine whine, to feel him shudder. "At least we're not drunk this time," he remarked when Kurt pulled away.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, grinning at Blaine's debauched expression, at the fingernail tracks raising welts down his back, at his damp curls clinging to his cheeks, "but so much for taking things slow."

[upsprinting]

6 More Common Direct Mail Mistakes

Last we covered the first six mistakes for a success direct mail campaign. Here are six more areas to avoid to get the response you need. Mistake No. 7: Saving the best for last Some copywriters save their strongest sales pitch for last, starting slow in their sales letters and hoping to build to a climactic conclusion. A mistake. Leo Bott, Jr., a Chicago-based mail-order writer, says that the typical prospect reads for five seconds before he decides whether to continue reading or throw your mailing in the trash. The letter must grab his attention immediately. So start your letter with your strongest sales point. Some examples of powerful openings:

"14 things that can go wrong in your company - and one sure way to prevent them" - an envelope teaser for a mailing that sold a manual on internal auditing procedures.

"A special invitation to the hero of American business" - from a subscription letter for Inc. magazine.

"Can 193,750 millionaires be wrong?" - an envelope teaser for a subscription mailing for Financial World magazine.

"Dear Friend: I’m fed up with the legal system. I want to change it, and I think you do, too." - the lead paragraph of a fund-raising letter.

Some time-testing opening gambits for sales letters include:

asking a provocative question

going straight to the heart of the reader’s most pressing problem or concern

arousing curiosity

leading off with a fascinating fact or incredible statistic

Starting the offer up-front, especially if it involves money; saving it, getting something for an incredibly low price, or making a free offer

Know the "hot spots" of your direct mail package - the paces that get the most readership. Those include: the first paragraphs of the letter, its subheads, its last paragraph and the post-script (80% of readers look at the PS); the brochure cover, its subheads and the headline of its inside spread; picture captions; and the headline and copy on the order form or reply card. Put your strongest selling copy in those spots. Error No. 8: Poor follow-up Recently a company phoned to ask whether I was interested in buying its product, which was promoted in a mailing I’d answered. The caller became indignant when I confessed that I didn’t remember the company’s copy, its product, its mailing, or whether it sent me a brochure. "When did I request the brochure?" I asked. The caller checked her records. "About 14 weeks ago," she replied. Hot leads rapidly turn ice cold when not followed up quickly. Slow fulfillment, poor marketing literature and inept telemarketing can destroy the initial interest that you worked so hard to build. Here are some questions you should ask yourself about your current inquiry fulfillment procedures:

Am I filling order or requests for information with 48 hours?

Am I using telephone follow-up or mail questionnaires to qualify prospects? By my definition, an inquiry is a response to your mailing. A lead is a qualified inquirer - someone who fits the descriptive profile of a potential customer for your product. You are after leads, not just inquiries.

Am I sending additional mailings to people who did not respond to my first mailing? Test that. Many people who did not respond to mailing No. 1 may send back the reply card from mailing No. 2, or even No. 3.

Am I using telemarketing to turn nonresponders into responders? Direct mail followed by telemarketing generates two to 10 times more response than direct mail with no telephone follow-up, according to Dwight Reichard, telemarketing director of Federated Investors Inc., Pittsburgh.

Does my inquiry fulfillment package include a strong sales letter telling the prospect what to do next? Every package should.

Does my inquiry fulfillment package include a reply element, such as an order form or spec sheet?

Does my sales brochure give the reader the information he needs to make an intelligent decision about taking the next step in the buying process? The most common complaints I hear from prospects is that the brochures they receive do not contain enough technical and price information.

Don’t put 100% of your time and effort into lead-generating mailing and 0% into the follow-up, as so many mailers do. You have to keep selling, every step of the way. Error No. 9: The magic words This mistake is not using the magic words that can dramatically increase the response to your mailing. General advertisers, operating under the mistaken notion that the mission of the copywriter is to be creative, avoid the magic words of direct mail, because they think those magic phrases are clichés. But just because a word or phrase is used frequently doesn’t mean that it has lost its power to achieve your communications objective. In conversation, for example, "please" and "thank you" never go out of style. What are the magic words of direct mail? Free. Say free brochure. Not brochure. Say free consultation. Not initial consultation. Say free gift. Not gift. If the English teacher in you objects that "free gift" is redundant, let me tell you a story. A mail-order firm tested two packages. The only difference was that package "A" offered a gift while package "B" offered a free gift. The result? You guessed it. The free gift order in package "B" significantly out pulled package "A". What’s more, many people who received package "A" wrote in and asked whether the gift was free! No Obligation. Important when you are offering anything free. If prospects aren’t obligated to use your firm’s wastewater treatment services after you analyze their water sample for free, say so. People want to be reassured that there are no strings attached. No salesperson will call. If true, a fantastic phrase that can increase response by 10% or more. Most people, including genuine prospects, hate being called by salespeople over the phone. Warning: Don’t say "no salesperson will call" if you do plan to follow up by phone. People won’t buy from liars. Details inside/See inside. One of those should follow any teaser copy on the outer envelope. You need a phrase that directs the reader to the inside. Limited time only. People who put your mailing aside for later reading or file it will probably never respond. The trick is to generate a response now. One way to do it is with a time-limited offer, either generic ("This offer is for a limited time only."), or specific ("This offer expires 9/20/87."). Try it! Announcing/At last. People like to think they are getting in on the ground floor of a new thing. Making your mailing an announcement increases its attention-getting powers. New. "New" is sheer magic in consumer mailings. But it’s a double-edged sword in industrial mailings. On the one hand, business and technical buyers want something new. On the other hand, they demand products with proven performance. The solution? Explain that your product is new or available to them for the first time, but proven elsewhere - either in another country, another application, or another industry. For example, when we introduced a diagnostic display system, we advertised it as "new" to US hospitals but explained it had been used successfully for five years in leading hospitals throughout Europe. Error No. 10: Starting with the product - not the prospect. You and your products are not important to the prospect. The reader opening your sales letter only wants to know, "What’s in it for me? How will I come out ahead by doing business with you vs. Someone else?" Successful direct mail focuses on the prospect, not the product. The most useful background research you can do is to ask your typical prospect, "What’s the biggest problem you have right now?" The sales letter should talk about that problem, then promise a solution. Do not guess what is going on in industries about which you have limited knowledge. Instead, talk to customers and prospects to find out their needs. Read the same publications and attend the same seminars they do. Try to learn their problems and concerns. Too many companies and ad agencies don’t do that. Too many copywriters operate in a black box, and doom themselves merely to recycling data already found in existing brochures. For example, let's say you have the assignment of writing a direct-mail package selling weed control chemicals to farmers. Do you know what farmers look for in weed control, or why they choose one supplier over another? Unless you are a farmer, you probably don't. Wouldn't it help to speak to some farmers and learn more about their situation?

Read, talk and listen to find out what's going on with your customers.

In his book "Or Your Money Back," Alvin Eicoff, one of the deans of late night television commercials, tells the story of a radio commercial he wrote selling rat poison. It worked well in the consumer market. But when it was aimed at the farm market, sales turned up zero. Mr. Eicoff drove out to the country to talk with farmers. His finding? Farmers didn't order because they were embarrassed about having a rat problem, and feared their neighbors would learn about it when the poison was delivered by mail. He added a single sentence to the radio script, which said that the rat poison was mailed in a plain brown wrapper. After that, sales soared. Talk to your customers. Good direct mail--or any ad copy--should tell them what they want to hear. Not what you think is important. Error No. 11: Failing to appeal to all five senses. Unlike an ad, which is two-dimensional, direct mail is three-dimensional and can appeal to all five senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste. Yet most users of direct mail fail to take advantage of the medium's added dimension. Don't plan a mailing without at least thinking about whether you can make it more powerful by adding a solid object, fragrance or even a sound. You ultimately may reject such enhancements because of time and budget constraints. But here are some ideas you might consider: Audio Recording. In selling summaries of business books recorded on CD or DVD, Macmillan Software Co. sent an CD in a cold mailing to prospects. This allows the prospect to sample the books-on-tape program. I would have said, "Too expensive." But inside information, and the fact that I got the package twice, tell me it's working for them. Do you have a powerful message that a company spokesperson can deliver in dynamic fashion to your audience? Consider adding a CD to your package. Video. Some companies are taking the idea one step further and mailing DVDs cold to prospects. Again, that's expensive--but successful in many instances. One company I spoke to got a 30% response to such a program. And in telephone follow-up, they learned that 95% watched the tape. Pop-ups. Chris Crowell, president of Essex, Conn.-based Structural Graphics Inc., says pop-ups can increase response up to 40% when compared with a conventional flat mailing. You can have a pop-up custom designed for your mailing or choose from one of many "stock" designs available. Money. Market research firms have discovered that enclosing a dollar bill with a market research survey can increase response by a factor of five or more, even though $1 is surely of no consequence to business executives or most consumers. Has anyone tried using money to get attention in a lead getting industrial mailing? Sound. Have you seen the greeting cards that play a song when you open them because of an implanted chip or some similar device? I think that certainly would get attention. But as far as I know, no one has used it yet in direct mail. Product samples. Don't neglect this old standard. Enclose a product or material sample in your next mailing. We once did a mailing in which we enclosed a small sample of knitted wire mesh used in pollution control and product recovery. Engineers who received the mailing kept that bit of wire on their desks for months. Premiums. An inexpensive gift such as a slide guide, measuring tape, ruler or thermometer can still work well. One recommendation and warning: A lot of us, including me, need to be a little more imaginative if we want our mailing package to stand out in the prospect's crowded mailbox. At the same time, we must remember that creativity can enhance a strong selling message or idea but cannot substitute for it. As copywriter Herschell Gordon Lewis, president of Communicomp in Plantation, Fla., warns, "Cleverness for the sake of cleverness may well be a liability, not an asset." Error No. 12: Creating and reviewing direct mail by committee Do you know what a moose is? It's a cow designed by a committee. Perhaps the biggest problem I see today is direct mail being reviewed by committees made up of people who have no idea (a) what direct mail is; (b) how it works; or (c) what it can and cannot do. For example, an ad agency creative director told me how his client cut a three-page sales letter to a single page because, as the client insisted, "Business people don't read long letters." Unfortunately, that's an assumption based on the client's own personal prejudices and reading habits. It is not a fact. In many business-to-business direct mail tests, I have seen long letters outpull short ones sometimes dramatically. Why pay experts to create mailings based on long years of trial-and-error experience, then deprive yourself of that knowledge base by letting personal opinions get in the way?  

Now that you have a good idea of what goes into a successful sales campaign – let’s   talk about the specific of your direct mail project. Call today for a free no-obligation consultation.

Unlimited Printing & Signs 2408 Madison Drive Suite 101 North Myrtle Beach, SC  29582 843-273-5290 www.upsprinting.com/

https://www.upsprinting.com/mail-marketing/6-more-common-direct-mail-mistakes/

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[mrjohnhthompson]

Why Do Gen Ys Struggle With Their Money?

I get this question all the time, so I finally decided to write this one. It’s partly about timeless fundamentals of personal finance, but I also included some thoughts about the future, and lessons from the past.Everybody’s got problems, but those that plague young people are unique in a few ways. Let’s go through them one by one:

1. Personal finance education 

Most “adult” people I know still have a surface-level understanding about money. Unfortunately, this applies to people of your age too. If you’d like to test your knowledge, try this basic financial literacy test. It’s just five very short questions, and you get to see if you’re financially smarter than two-thirds of the world (who failed). Why isn’t personal finance a mandatory subject in schools and universities? I don’t know, but that’s surely one of the biggest failings of our education system. Instead, young people are left to learn finance from websites, guest speakers and gulp, their friends and families. It’s not that self-learning is a bad thing. It’s that sometimes even your well-meaning friends and parents could be teaching you poor money habits. And let’s not get into “friends” who “teach” but are actually trying to make money off you. So your biggest problem really is: No one taught you personal finance. And even if someone did, was he/she teaching you the right things?

2. The changing world of jobs

When you were younger, your parents likely told you a version of the same advice they told me: “Study hard, get good grades — and you’ll have a secure job.” But of course, the world has changed since our parents’ times. Today, the world of secure jobs isn’t so secure anymore. There’s no such thing as lifetime employment. And with huge advances in Robots and Artificial Intelligence every day, the world of jobs is going to continue to change rapidly. It really scares me, but here’s the prediction some experts are making: we’re going to have much less traditional jobs in the near future. So you’re now living in an uncertain job market with an even more uncertain future. It’s getting harder to have secure income. “I might be smiling here, but I think robots are going to take away your job.” [caption id="attachment_29129" align="aligncenter" width="537"] “I might be smiling here, but I think robots are going to take away your job.”[/caption]

3. Cost of living and inflation

In the 1980s, you could probably buy a double-storey house in Kuala Lumpur for about RM60,000. And your starting salary might have been around RM 1,000. Today, try buying a RM500,000 (US$112,000) apartment on your starting salary of RM2,100. The oft-quoted guideline from the World Bank is this: To be considered affordable, the price of your home should be less than three times your annual household income. In other words, if your annual household income is RM54,600 (RM2,100 monthly salary x 13 months x 2 people), an “affordable” home for you costs RM163,800 and below. That RM500,000 apartment is nine times your annual household income. The World Bank would call it “severely unaffordable.” You and I call it something less savoury. Here’s some more scary data. Because it’s not just the Malaysian economy that’s screwed up. Let’s take a look at the economic miracle known as the USA. Well, our young friends there aren’t doing so well either. The Atlantic  reports that over the last few years, real (inflated-adjusted) income has fallen for most Americans aged between 18 and 34. And here’s some data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics: [blockquote type="light"]“Average income for Americans aged 18-35 has gone from US$36,000 (in 1992) to US$33,000 (today).”

James Altucher[/blockquote]

You’re rightfully angry at the rising cost of living. Things have gotten more expensive over the years, and salaries (especially for young graduates) have just not kept up.

4. Student debt

Most of you have some form of student loans to pay off too. But here’s the good news: Malaysia — for better or for worse — is an extremely forgiving country. I’m not suggesting you don’t repay your PTPTN education loan and beg for forgiveness from the immigration officers at KLIA before your annual vacation. What I am saying is if you have the will to pay your debts, the environment here makes it easier to pay. We have all kinds of discount schemes; plus when was the last time you heard of someone getting hauled to jail because they missed an education loan payment? Of course, student debt is still a problem. And I understand how hard it is to plan for your future when you have a big sum of money hanging over your head. I’ve been there too and it did not feel good at all. But with that in mind, let’s take a look at the other side. It can’t be all doom and gloom; so what are some advantages that young people have instead?

1. Access and technology

When I was a fresh graduate, I had to call the TM Streamyx guys to come to my home every few months — because my copper wire DSL modem would periodically get fried by lightning. Not only was my wired Internet connection slow, it was unreliable. Today, the cheapest data plan on your mobile phone is five times faster than my lightning-rod DSL connection of 2007. And as you’re probably aware, the amount of knowledge available for free on the Internet continues to grow exponentially. What I’m getting at is this: you’re privileged to live in an era of cheap devices and free information. Access to knowledge is not a problem anymore. It’s so common that you and I don’t even appreciate how wonderful it is; that with a few clicks of your mouse — you can check how cheap Malaysian car prices were in 1985. You don’t even have to open your mouth to ask anyone anymore. With technology, you can learn from the world’s greatest minds for (you guessed it) free. If you know what this is, you’re old. [caption id="attachment_29130" align="aligncenter" width="640"] If you know what this is, you’re old.[/caption]

2. The freelance economy

Growing up, I wasn’t street smart. I did pretty well in school, but I was never the entrepreneurial kind. Maybe the whole “established path” of school >> university >> corporate job was too well-drilled into my head. So the only way I knew how to make money was to work for a company and have a boss. Silly me. Of course, you’re smarter and braver than me. So you’ve likely done some kind of work in your free time during your college days. You probably already know how to leverage your skills and connections to make money. Which is a great thing. Did you know that freelancers now represent 35% of the US workforce? I couldn’t find detailed statistics from Malaysia, but it’s a growing trend worldwide. And it especially suits people like you and me who like to work from home in our underwear. Your ability to use access and technology makes freelancing an easy option for you. You know how the Internet and social media work. Plus with globalisation, you can earn some high-value USD if you sell internationally. All of us are entrepreneurs. I wish I’d learned that earlier in life; but for you young Padawan — the world is yours to conquer.

3. Time

Time is your greatest advantage of all. And here’s an example from history’s most storied investor: Warren Buffett, who’s now worth about US$73.9 billion. Did you know that 99% of Warren Buffett’s wealth was made after his 50th birthday? Read that again. Even the greatest investor we’ve known made the majority of his fortune after he was 50. He started when he was 11, but it took him 45 years to become a billionaire. Of course, that’s not what people want to hear. Everyone wants to become the next Mark Zuckerberg — billionaire at 23 years old.  But it’s not going to happen for most people. Most people need time to achieve significant things in their careers. And most people need the magic of compound interest over long periods of time — to really let their money grow. I’ll give you a typical example here: Let’s say you earn RM2,200 and contribute the bare minimum into your EPF retirement fund. Keep contributing as normal for 41 years (till you retire), and you’ll have a cool RM1 million by the end of it: [caption id="attachment_29131" align="aligncenter" width="500"] Assuming 6% returns[/caption] And that’s even before you factor in any promotions and salary raises. You’re young; you have time. But do you have patience?

So, what should young people do with their money? 

1. Budget and automate If I could sum up personal finance in one sentence, it’d be this: spend less than you earn, and invest the rest. Sounds great, but of course then you start getting tempted by how great the latest iPhone looks, and that unbelievable holiday deal from AirAsia. Which is precisely why you need a budget. Because if you spend your money freely without planning — you’ll be bankrupt one day. And that day would come sooner than you think. You can read further details on how to create a budget, but the most important thing about budgeting is that it helps build discipline. Without which you will never achieve financial success. Here’s a final tip on budgeting: Because most of us are so horrible at controlling our impulse to buy things, automate your savings and investments. Set your bank to automatically deduct your salary and invest that money immediately every pay day — so you can’t easily touch it. Because if you can easily get to that money, I suspect you’ll have a new iPhone soon.

2. Be ruthless about expenses

If you were a company, there are two ways to become more profitable: make more money, or reduce your costs. Both are important, but which one do you have more immediate control over? Assuming you’re not extremely poor, and your family isn’t totally dependent on you — most young graduates have room to reduce their expenses. “But I need trendy clothes and hipster cafes to maintain my image,” you say. “And I need vacations overseas to be happy.” I’m never going to be the guy who says you should give up your overpriced Starbucks lattes or stop traveling. To each his own. But if you’re really going to control your expenses in today’s economic environment, I guarantee you’d need to make some tough decisions. You’re not going to get everything your heart desires. Life is about trade-offs. In time and in money. So spend on those things which are really important to you. Spend more on them and cut out everything else. Ruthlessly. Hint: When you get to my age, you’ll probably realise a lot of things you thought were important aren’t. So choose wisely.

The post Why Do Gen Ys Struggle With Their Money? appeared first on iMoney Malaysia.

[upsprinting]

6 More Common Direct Mail Mistakes

Last we covered the first six mistakes for a success direct mail campaign. Here are six more areas to avoid to get the response you need. Mistake No. 7: Saving the best for last Some copywriters save their strongest sales pitch for last, starting slow in their sales letters and hoping to build to a climactic conclusion. A mistake. Leo Bott, Jr., a Chicago-based mail-order writer, says that the typical prospect reads for five seconds before he decides whether to continue reading or throw your mailing in the trash. The letter must grab his attention immediately. So start your letter with your strongest sales point. Some examples of powerful openings:

"14 things that can go wrong in your company - and one sure way to prevent them" - an envelope teaser for a mailing that sold a manual on internal auditing procedures.

"A special invitation to the hero of American business" - from a subscription letter for Inc. magazine.

"Can 193,750 millionaires be wrong?" - an envelope teaser for a subscription mailing for Financial World magazine.

"Dear Friend: I’m fed up with the legal system. I want to change it, and I think you do, too." - the lead paragraph of a fund-raising letter.

Some time-testing opening gambits for sales letters include:

asking a provocative question

going straight to the heart of the reader’s most pressing problem or concern

arousing curiosity

leading off with a fascinating fact or incredible statistic

Starting the offer up-front, especially if it involves money; saving it, getting something for an incredibly low price, or making a free offer

Know the "hot spots" of your direct mail package - the paces that get the most readership. Those include: the first paragraphs of the letter, its subheads, its last paragraph and the post-script (80% of readers look at the PS); the brochure cover, its subheads and the headline of its inside spread; picture captions; and the headline and copy on the order form or reply card. Put your strongest selling copy in those spots. Error No. 8: Poor follow-up Recently a company phoned to ask whether I was interested in buying its product, which was promoted in a mailing I’d answered. The caller became indignant when I confessed that I didn’t remember the company’s copy, its product, its mailing, or whether it sent me a brochure. "When did I request the brochure?" I asked. The caller checked her records. "About 14 weeks ago," she replied. Hot leads rapidly turn ice cold when not followed up quickly. Slow fulfillment, poor marketing literature and inept telemarketing can destroy the initial interest that you worked so hard to build. Here are some questions you should ask yourself about your current inquiry fulfillment procedures:

Am I filling order or requests for information with 48 hours?

Am I using telephone follow-up or mail questionnaires to qualify prospects? By my definition, an inquiry is a response to your mailing. A lead is a qualified inquirer - someone who fits the descriptive profile of a potential customer for your product. You are after leads, not just inquiries.

Am I sending additional mailings to people who did not respond to my first mailing? Test that. Many people who did not respond to mailing No. 1 may send back the reply card from mailing No. 2, or even No. 3.

Am I using telemarketing to turn nonresponders into responders? Direct mail followed by telemarketing generates two to 10 times more response than direct mail with no telephone follow-up, according to Dwight Reichard, telemarketing director of Federated Investors Inc., Pittsburgh.

Does my inquiry fulfillment package include a strong sales letter telling the prospect what to do next? Every package should.

Does my inquiry fulfillment package include a reply element, such as an order form or spec sheet?

Does my sales brochure give the reader the information he needs to make an intelligent decision about taking the next step in the buying process? The most common complaints I hear from prospects is that the brochures they receive do not contain enough technical and price information.

Don’t put 100% of your time and effort into lead-generating mailing and 0% into the follow-up, as so many mailers do. You have to keep selling, every step of the way. Error No. 9: The magic words This mistake is not using the magic words that can dramatically increase the response to your mailing. General advertisers, operating under the mistaken notion that the mission of the copywriter is to be creative, avoid the magic words of direct mail, because they think those magic phrases are clichés. But just because a word or phrase is used frequently doesn’t mean that it has lost its power to achieve your communications objective. In conversation, for example, "please" and "thank you" never go out of style. What are the magic words of direct mail? Free. Say free brochure. Not brochure. Say free consultation. Not initial consultation. Say free gift. Not gift. If the English teacher in you objects that "free gift" is redundant, let me tell you a story. A mail-order firm tested two packages. The only difference was that package "A" offered a gift while package "B" offered a free gift. The result? You guessed it. The free gift order in package "B" significantly out pulled package "A". What’s more, many people who received package "A" wrote in and asked whether the gift was free! No Obligation. Important when you are offering anything free. If prospects aren’t obligated to use your firm’s wastewater treatment services after you analyze their water sample for free, say so. People want to be reassured that there are no strings attached. No salesperson will call. If true, a fantastic phrase that can increase response by 10% or more. Most people, including genuine prospects, hate being called by salespeople over the phone. Warning: Don’t say "no salesperson will call" if you do plan to follow up by phone. People won’t buy from liars. Details inside/See inside. One of those should follow any teaser copy on the outer envelope. You need a phrase that directs the reader to the inside. Limited time only. People who put your mailing aside for later reading or file it will probably never respond. The trick is to generate a response now. One way to do it is with a time-limited offer, either generic ("This offer is for a limited time only."), or specific ("This offer expires 9/20/87."). Try it! Announcing/At last. People like to think they are getting in on the ground floor of a new thing. Making your mailing an announcement increases its attention-getting powers. New. "New" is sheer magic in consumer mailings. But it’s a double-edged sword in industrial mailings. On the one hand, business and technical buyers want something new. On the other hand, they demand products with proven performance. The solution? Explain that your product is new or available to them for the first time, but proven elsewhere - either in another country, another application, or another industry. For example, when we introduced a diagnostic display system, we advertised it as "new" to US hospitals but explained it had been used successfully for five years in leading hospitals throughout Europe. Error No. 10: Starting with the product - not the prospect. You and your products are not important to the prospect. The reader opening your sales letter only wants to know, "What’s in it for me? How will I come out ahead by doing business with you vs. Someone else?" Successful direct mail focuses on the prospect, not the product. The most useful background research you can do is to ask your typical prospect, "What’s the biggest problem you have right now?" The sales letter should talk about that problem, then promise a solution. Do not guess what is going on in industries about which you have limited knowledge. Instead, talk to customers and prospects to find out their needs. Read the same publications and attend the same seminars they do. Try to learn their problems and concerns. Too many companies and ad agencies don’t do that. Too many copywriters operate in a black box, and doom themselves merely to recycling data already found in existing brochures. For example, let's say you have the assignment of writing a direct-mail package selling weed control chemicals to farmers. Do you know what farmers look for in weed control, or why they choose one supplier over another? Unless you are a farmer, you probably don't. Wouldn't it help to speak to some farmers and learn more about their situation?

Read, talk and listen to find out what's going on with your customers.

In his book "Or Your Money Back," Alvin Eicoff, one of the deans of late night television commercials, tells the story of a radio commercial he wrote selling rat poison. It worked well in the consumer market. But when it was aimed at the farm market, sales turned up zero. Mr. Eicoff drove out to the country to talk with farmers. His finding? Farmers didn't order because they were embarrassed about having a rat problem, and feared their neighbors would learn about it when the poison was delivered by mail. He added a single sentence to the radio script, which said that the rat poison was mailed in a plain brown wrapper. After that, sales soared. Talk to your customers. Good direct mail--or any ad copy--should tell them what they want to hear. Not what you think is important. Error No. 11: Failing to appeal to all five senses. Unlike an ad, which is two-dimensional, direct mail is three-dimensional and can appeal to all five senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste. Yet most users of direct mail fail to take advantage of the medium's added dimension. Don't plan a mailing without at least thinking about whether you can make it more powerful by adding a solid object, fragrance or even a sound. You ultimately may reject such enhancements because of time and budget constraints. But here are some ideas you might consider: Audio Recording. In selling summaries of business books recorded on CD or DVD, Macmillan Software Co. sent an CD in a cold mailing to prospects. This allows the prospect to sample the books-on-tape program. I would have said, "Too expensive." But inside information, and the fact that I got the package twice, tell me it's working for them. Do you have a powerful message that a company spokesperson can deliver in dynamic fashion to your audience? Consider adding a CD to your package. Video. Some companies are taking the idea one step further and mailing DVDs cold to prospects. Again, that's expensive--but successful in many instances. One company I spoke to got a 30% response to such a program. And in telephone follow-up, they learned that 95% watched the tape. Pop-ups. Chris Crowell, president of Essex, Conn.-based Structural Graphics Inc., says pop-ups can increase response up to 40% when compared with a conventional flat mailing. You can have a pop-up custom designed for your mailing or choose from one of many "stock" designs available. Money. Market research firms have discovered that enclosing a dollar bill with a market research survey can increase response by a factor of five or more, even though $1 is surely of no consequence to business executives or most consumers. Has anyone tried using money to get attention in a lead getting industrial mailing? Sound. Have you seen the greeting cards that play a song when you open them because of an implanted chip or some similar device? I think that certainly would get attention. But as far as I know, no one has used it yet in direct mail. Product samples. Don't neglect this old standard. Enclose a product or material sample in your next mailing. We once did a mailing in which we enclosed a small sample of knitted wire mesh used in pollution control and product recovery. Engineers who received the mailing kept that bit of wire on their desks for months. Premiums. An inexpensive gift such as a slide guide, measuring tape, ruler or thermometer can still work well. One recommendation and warning: A lot of us, including me, need to be a little more imaginative if we want our mailing package to stand out in the prospect's crowded mailbox. At the same time, we must remember that creativity can enhance a strong selling message or idea but cannot substitute for it. As copywriter Herschell Gordon Lewis, president of Communicomp in Plantation, Fla., warns, "Cleverness for the sake of cleverness may well be a liability, not an asset." Error No. 12: Creating and reviewing direct mail by committee Do you know what a moose is? It's a cow designed by a committee. Perhaps the biggest problem I see today is direct mail being reviewed by committees made up of people who have no idea (a) what direct mail is; (b) how it works; or (c) what it can and cannot do. For example, an ad agency creative director told me how his client cut a three-page sales letter to a single page because, as the client insisted, "Business people don't read long letters." Unfortunately, that's an assumption based on the client's own personal prejudices and reading habits. It is not a fact. In many business-to-business direct mail tests, I have seen long letters outpull short ones sometimes dramatically. Why pay experts to create mailings based on long years of trial-and-error experience, then deprive yourself of that knowledge base by letting personal opinions get in the way?  

Now that you have a good idea of what goes into a successful sales campaign – let’s   talk about the specific of your direct mail project. Call today for a free no-obligation consultation.

Unlimited Printing & Signs 2408 Madison Drive Suite 101 North Myrtle Beach, SC  29582 843-273-5290 www.upsprinting.com/

https://www.upsprinting.com/mail-marketing/6-more-common-direct-mail-mistakes/