#srry for space in between answers and also not very good answers

[redsandtemple]

Im not following you bc sometimes my block list doesn’t work and i can’t use xkit but saw you disappear and got extremely worried. You probably don’t know me but I got rlly worried for you and I’m hoping you feel better from whatever made you disappear. If you ever need to take a break don’t hesitate to do so bc while I may not follow you, you are an extremely awesome and funny person and I really appreciate your content!!!

💖💖💖

[jemej3m]

RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m way too lazy to link the rest of the parts so here’s the latest one lmao srry 

p3

*

Wymack settled into his chair. He well trusted Neil by now, but Minyard had a reputation that precedented him, so Wymack wouldn’t let the man derail the show with his presence. 

He hadn’t told Kevin about Andrew’s sudden and startling reappearance yet: He knew his son would grow too fanatic and overenthusiastic, and probably put Andrew off all over again. Wymack looked into the man’s credentials: His behavioural record was tarnished to all hell, but every one of his grades had been stellar. It was baffling enough that the name Minyard had remained, lodged in his brain, until Neil had finally admitted who he wanted to co-host.

It was a Tuesday evening, already hitting close to midnight. Through the glass Neil was setting up, the routine old hat by now, but Andrew was lounging in a chair he seemed too familiar with, a lolly-pop in his mouth. 

Wymack leaned into his soundboard and spoke into the comm. “You sure you’ve never been here, Minyard?”

The candy came out of his mouth with a pop. “Nope.” Neil sent Minyard a quiet smile and jostled his shoulder gently. Minyard flipped him off. 

I’m too old for this.

‘This’ entailed: Obvious, middle-school flirting and being away past ten o’clock, both of which Wymack’d had enough of to last the rest of his presumably short lifespan. 

He simply shook his head and settled further into the chair to watch the slow as it went live. 

“Welcome back to Mid-Nights, with me, the same person who’s been hosting this show for months and yet still repeats his name, Neil Josten.” He grinned into the microphone and winked at Wymack, who rolled his eyes. Minyard mirrored him. Maybe Andrew would be the one to finally tame Josten’s shitty attitude. “But guess what? There’s someone else here with me today, cohosting tonight.”

“It’ll be a one-off event, undoubtedly.” Minyard said into his mike. 

“Am I introducing you?”

“You dragged me on here, junkie.”

“I did, didn’t I. Cohosting with me tonight is Andrew Minyard, who’s got some new music and absolutely scathing opinions to share with you all. It’s a pleasure to have you here, ‘Drew.”

“Call me that again and I’ll sew your lips shut.”

Neil just laughed. 

Wymack didn’t have to worry. Neil seemed well versed in conversing with Andrew, who, despite his misgivings, was very good at what he did: Things ran incredibly smoothly, to the point that Wymack realised it was ridiculous that he was here. Of course, he needed to assess Minyard to see if he was up to a permanent gig if he ever wanted one, but Neil easily had it under control. Minyard was way too familiar with the space, the boards and controls: He had to have been here prior, but Wymack wasn’t going to ask.

They made a good pair, Wymack thought. He wondered what they’d say if he offered them a prime-time spot. 

It hit about two-thirty in the morning and Wymack hit the comm button mid-way through a song. “I’m going home. Congrats, Minyard. You better not have razed my studio to the ground by the time I get back here in a few hours.”

“Can’t make any promises.” The pint-sized man muttered. Wymack simply shook his head and tucked his chair under his desk, shoving his notes into his bag and filing out with his keys hanging off his ring finger. 

It could just work. Neil and Andrew in evening peak-hour, the most promising intern Robin running graveyard shifts, and Allison moving up and out to the news broadcasting position she’d been offered. 

It all fit together, like a hideous puzzle. Wymack didn’t mind: He’d keep adding pieces and making the FM-OX network a home for his kids.

*

“How’d you like that?” Neil insisted, forever obsessed with his work. Andrew rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing the chair under his desk. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

“You can’t think you’ll successfully entertain me with your own obsessive tendencies.”

“Fine.” Neil challenged. “I’ll let you drop me home if we go to Sweeties on the way.” 

Andrew narrowed his eyes. Neil didn’t give in to an argument so easily, especially not one that had been consistent over the past few weeks. Neil, as Andrew eventually discovered, walked home in the dead of the night after his show. Like the reckless idiot he was. As if his striking features and scars didn’t draw enough attention to him: He deliberately put himself in harms way so often, and so carelessly, that Andrew wondered what kind of childhood he must have endured to be so infuriatingly reckless. 

He’d asked Neil why he was so obviously flippant about himself. Neil had retorted with a sharp “I do care. I just can’t trust anyone to look out for me in my stead.” 

“Can’t, or won’t?” Andrew offered. Neil, in a particularly bitter mood that day, had said nothing else. 

Now Neil was letting Andrew drop him home. He had to want something. 

“Only if you get me fries and ice cream.”

“Pl - Don’t put them together. I’ll be sick.”

Andrew noticed the way he caught himself before saying ‘please’. It was the little things about Neil that had him stumbling over himself as he fell deeper and deeper into the hole that was being attracted to Neil Josten, when he realised that Neil adhered to every one of his boundaries. 

“Funnily enough, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Let’s go, Josten.”

They’d queued good music on the station in their absence and listened to it whilst Andrew drove with the windows down, careening into Sweeties’ drive-through. Neil had a small smile playing across his lips, curls fluttering in the breeze. When the car rolled to a stop his cheeks were flushed red, looking utterly windswept. Andrew had to avert his eyes. 

Neil ordered for him, seeing as he’d spent the past four hours talking intermittently - more than he’d ever had to before, but also surprisingly easy when it was with Neil. 

The other man said just what Andrew was thinking as they sat in the parking lot, Andrew dipping curly fries into strawberry ice-cream and Neil breathing in the steam from his black coffee. 

“And to think this all happened because you called me one night.” Neil muttered, a teasing sparkle in his eye. 

“You were confounding enough to keep my interest.” Andrew said dismissively. 

“Am I still? Confounding?”

Yes and no. Andrew felt like he knew nothing about Neil. He’d known Neil did a course with Kevin and got into FM-OX through Kevin’s connections. He knew he didn’t talk to his family, that his scars were a premeditated attack from someone he knew. He knew Neil liked the colour grey and fruit and obscure, unknown musicians and the radio and that he didn’t celebrate his birthday. He didn’t have a car and liked going for jogs in the morning and took his coffee plain black and had moved around a lot as a kid. Neil was smart enough to entertain anyone on a specific topic, but he never let on that he knew more than he should for some scrawny young guy in the middle of a scrappy South Carolinian city. 

Other than that, Andrew had nothing. Neil was like water between his fingers: Cool, refreshing, but impossible to get a grasp on. 

“You’re still irritating.” Andrew answered. Neil just snorted and drank his coffee. “You haven’t eaten and definitely shouldn’t be drinking coffee at this hour.”

“I can take care of myself,” Neil argued, hiding behind his cup. 

“Clearly.” Andrew grunted, shoving the car into reverse once he’d finished and pulled out of the empty parking lot. 

Neil’s home was relatively close to FM-OX studios, a decrepit looking doorway between two crusty shop-fronts that lead to studio apartments that looked down on the street. Neil clambered out but turned around and leaned back into the car with a shit-eating grin. 

“I had a good time, ‘Drew.” Like he was dropping Neil home from a date. Should he walk him to the door? Kiss him on his doorstep? How horrifically cliché. 

Andrew scowled. “Don’t get comfortable, junkie.”

Neil winked. The fucking bastard winked. “Keep an eye out for a call from Wymack. He might just have an offer that’ll be too good to resist. See you soon, Minyard.” The car door slammed behind him. 

Andrew was too late, distracted by watching Neil in his jeans and button-down walk to the front door of his apartment block, but still muttered “Fucking asshole.” like Neil was still there to hear him. 

He thought he’d be exhausted, but he was fucking wired beyond belief. Even when he laid on his bed upon arriving home, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Sleeping would reset the day. And Andrew wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even to himself: 

He didn’t want it to end. 

*

ibfnakhrualhifwkjdbhferghifwuekjnhv HOW MANY PARTS WILL IT TAKE FOR THIS PINING TO BE OVERRRRR

[quackspot]

i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him

omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)

any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm

HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana

his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear 

since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)

i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends

(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)

ok back to the topic at hand. platano.

i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them

the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow

i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke

so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me” 

that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful. 

(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)

i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.

so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least

(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)

on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now 

“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground. 

“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??” 

“I can do that?”

“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands. 

“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.

“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.” 

Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could. 

His dads were never worried.

hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene 

he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake 

i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well

it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn 

yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it

OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE

so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie 

(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)

ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.

here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO

“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed. 

why is it bolded. anyway.

i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs. 

i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????” 

some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin 

looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im  tired lol)

OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku 

uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca.  ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now

He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.

“Banana, mango,

Each tasting amazingly.

A taste of evil.” 

Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.

it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.

actually that’s all i will write. i could  do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)

[lightningflash55]

I picked these numbers totally random I have no idea what the questions are. 8, 12, 25, 33, 49, 59, 61, 74, 80, 93

@tododorkies​ Aaaaaa shoot, I totally spaced this out. (These are answers for my bnha oc, Kumo, from this list if anyone is wondering)

8. What are their good and bad traits?

A few of her good traits would be that she’s very open/understanding, she’s super loyal to her friends and family, and she’s good at catching details others might miss, which provides useful insight during hero work. On the negative side, she often lacks confidence in her abilities and also has poor spending habits (aka she buys snacks/drinks so often it’s ridiculous)  

12. Can they do magic?

No, but I guess quirks are in the same vein? Hers is cloud manipulation! 

25. What type of high schooler are/were they?

I’m not sure she fits one typical category like jock/nerd/etc lol. She tends to be quiet and reserved during normal class (she’s the type to get distracted and end up gazing out the window LOL). She definitely prefers active classes and would probably be on the track team? She’s pretty average grade-wise, but she does try to do her best. And I guess she’s on the introverted side but around her friends she opens up really easily! (Asfhdsjkf I feel like this is sort of a lame answer but idk what else to say)

33. Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

She’s never dyed it, nor could I imagine her dyeing it any time soon. She likes her natural blue!

49. If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

Mmmm i’m gonna go with a dire wolf just cause dire wolf = big dog. She’s a dog person and I think she’d have a Samoyed when she could get one cause they look like fluffy clouds :3

59. What is their favourite song?

Aaaa her music taste has been one of the hardest things for me to place so far. I’m still working on it and wanna make a playlist but for now I could see her listening to lighter rock/pop songs?? Plus some kpop and also ambient music when she’s just chilling/doing homework (I also hc she listens to rain/storm tracks while studying). 

If I was forced to pick a song from my own music it’d probably be Acid Rain by Avenged Sevenfold or Demons/Warriors by Imagine Dragons

61. What is their favourite book?

I’m not gonna pick a specific one but she’d prefer action/adventure stories. She also reads meteorology books for fun cause she’s a nerd LOL.

74. Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She gets along really well with her little sister and they’re 100% guaranteed to laugh whenever they’re together. They joke around a lot and her sister’s pretty full of spunk (she can be more than a handful sometimes). 

80. Do they like other people’s children?

She does! There’s a big age gap between Kumo and her little sis so she’s had a lot of experience helping out with her. She’s really good with kids and loves to entertain them (Though i’d say ideal age would definitely be 3+ over babies).

93. What are they like as an adult?

I don’t think she necessarily changes much, other than maturing and growing in her experiences. She does become a pro hero!! She gets to take after her mom and look cool kicking villain butt 😎 (i’m keeping this answer lame cause idk what to say srry)

[danfanciesphil]

Can I ask for a Dan/Louise prompt? Just because I love their friendship to be honest and I'd love to read more of them interacting

I was really, really scared for a second that you were asking me for a Dan/Louise romantic thing and I was like.... hell nah, but no I totally agree that their friendship is EVERYTHING. So here you go, this was a pleasure. 

Got a prompt for me? Click here! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)

To: LouiseFrom: Dan00:34amo god louy am i such a twathelp me

To: DanFrom: Louise00:36am????What have you done now

To: DanFrom: Louise00:42am??????????????

To: LouiseFrom: Dan00:45amsrry... am quite drunk

To: DanFrom: Louise:00:47amDan, whatever it is im sureit’s not that bad

To: DanFrom: Louise00:50amWe are masters at embarrassingourselves, but we are alsomasters at laughing it off and getting through it somehow

To: DanFrom Louise00:51amThat’s what I’m here for. I’myour support for these situationsJust tell me what happened andwe’ll think of a way to fix it xx

Louise stares down at her phone, confused as it starts to buzz in her hands. She realises, belatedly, that it’s ringing, and sighs, flipping on her bedside light as she prepares to talk down a tipsy friend from what is sure to be a great overreaction to something trivial. 

She swipes the ‘answer’ button, and brings the phone to her ear. She opens her mouth to say hello, but a yawn interrupts her. 

“Sorry, Dan, just in bed, what’s-”

“I kissed Phil.” 

*

It’s 8am on a Thursday, and Louise is sat in a London café. As she sips her cappuccino, she looks around herself at the bustling atmosphere, still a little awestruck that she’s even here.

Normally, at this time on a weekday, Louise is sat in her car, crawling along at the pace of a snail as the train of exhausted parents trundle past the entrance to the local school. Darcy keeps her entertained on these mornings of course, her bright, sweet attitude livening up any morning.

Today, Darcy is getting dropped off by her Dad, after a lot of secret parental bargaining over the phone very late last night. 

At 6am, Louise dropped Darcy round to her Dad’s, lunchbox in tow, and then headed straight for the station. She caught the first train to London, texting Dan reassurances the whole way, just as she’s been doing all night. 

Now, she’s sat at a table in a Costa Coffee where Dan had told her to wait. She’s bought Dan his favourite coffee - a caramel macchiato - and a bakewell tart, as it’s unlikely he will have eaten a damn thing since last night, and he’ll be hungover as hell. 

It’s not exactly a typical morning. 

Just then, Dan pushes the glass door open, eyes frantically scanning the crowded coffee shop. Louise lifts her hand and waves, catching his eye, and she watches the tension drain from his shoulders. 

He pushes through the maze of tables towards her, and Louise stands, opening her arms for a hug. He practically lunges at her, squeezing tightly, his face buried in her hair. He still smells of vodka, and stale beer, and general unkemptness, but Louise holds him tight, not letting go until Dan shifts in her grip. 

He flops down into the seat opposite her, and she sits back down, surveying him worriedly. He looks terrible, in all honesty. Dan Howell is a pretty boy, there’s no point in denying something so obvious. He must know that not all of his subscribers are watching him for his premium content. He’s got that typical sweet, British boy thing going on - tall, with dimples and warm chocolate eyes. 

But this morning, he does not look his best. Not that it’s all that surprising. According to their text and phone conversations, Dan has not slept at all. He left whatever party he’d been at initially, and he’s been wandering around the streets of London all night long, refusing to go home no matter how much Louise told him off. 

His head droops forwards, obviously exhausted, and he notices the glass mug of coffee in front of him, his darkly circled eyes lighting up for a second. 

“Is that for me?” Dan asks - even his voice sounds like a husk of itself. 

Louise nods, offering a smile, and Dan practically snatches the drink up, glugging about half of it one go. 

“Have you not drunk anything?” Louise asks, her voice adopting a motherly quality. 

Dan shakes his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Does alcohol count?”

“No.”

Dan chuckles, darkly. “Then no. Not since...” He trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. About six in the evening yesterday?” 

Louise pushes the Bakewell Tart at him. “Does that go for eating as well?”

Dan groans, shoving the cake into his mouth. As crumbs fall from his lips, his eyes meet Louise’s, screaming their thanks at her. She sighs, shaking her head in pity. 

“Oh, Dan.” She sighs. “You ninny.” 

Dan swallows his mouthful, leaning back in his chair. He scrubs a hand over his face, looking miserable. “Don’t. I know. Trust me, I know I’ve fucked up. You can’t possibly think worse of me than I do.” 

Louise frowns, reaching a hand across the table. Dan stares at it for a moment, uncomprehending, then his brain seems to click into place, and he puts his own hand on top of hers. 

“Dan, I don’t think badly of you.” She says kindly, trying to maintain a gentle tone, as it’s so obviously what Dan needs right now. “I don’t think you’ve fucked up horrendously, I don’t even think you did anything wrong.”

“Lou, I kissed him.” Dan tells her, his voice dropping to a low level, as if he’s afraid someone might overhear. “Like, full on just planted one on him out of nowhere.” Dan shuts his eyes, as if the memory is replaying right in front of him. “The look on his face, Lou...” 

“Okay, back up, Dan.” Louise says, squeezing his fingers in her own. “Let’s break this down. What happened?” 

Dan sighs, his eyes fluttering open with reluctance. “We were... at a party.”

“Okay...”

“Just like... some friend of a friend,” Dan says vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. “We weren’t even gonna go, but we hadn’t seen that lot for months, so we thought we’d just, like, put in a quick appearance.”

“Right.” Louise says, nodding show she’s following. “But things escalated?”

Dan nods, frowning. He plays with the glacé cherry on the remnants of the tart. 

“This guy - the guy whose party it was - he’s really into craft beer.” Dan explains, sounding ashamed. “He works for some specialist beer bar in Shoreditch, and he had all these really fancy, strong bottles of beer...” 

Louise nods, sensing where this is headed. “So you got wasted.”

“You know what I’m like when I’m drunk, Lou.” 

In truth, Louise has only ever seen Dan drunk on a handful of occasions. She likes to think of she and Dan as good friends, as they talk almost every day via text, and they get on so well whenever they do see each other that it’s almost like the long, vast spaces of time between their in-person meetings aren’t there. 

Usually, Louise has experienced drunk-Dan at big, crowded events. VidCon parties, or YouTuber gatherings, or at the rare times she books a babysitter and manages to attend one of Caspar and Joe’s legendary parties. His drunkenness is absorbed into the mess of other people’s shenanigans, and she tends to overlook it. 

What she does remember, is that drunk-Dan tends to be a little more... tactile than normal. With everyone, but mostly with one person in particular. 

“You mean... you were draping yourself all over Phil?” 

Dan blushes, avoiding her eye. “I meant like... I usually get too flirtatious and over-confident.” Louise makes a little ‘oh’ sound, looking away. “But yeah, that too.” Dan confirms. 

“I still don’t quite understand...” Louise says, trying to connect the drunk-Dan in her memory to the one that did something as momentous as actually kissing his best friend without warning. 

“Well,” Dan sighs, pulling his hand out of Louise’s grasp in order to chew his thumbnail. “I guess it was always gonna happen eventually, right?”

This confuses Louise even more, and her brows knit together, attempting to make sense of such a strange statement. She comes up with nothing. 

“Wait, what was always gonna happen?”

Dan stares at her, looking equally confused. “Well... this.” 

“You kissing Phil?”

Dan gives her a weird look. “...yeah.” He pauses. “I mean, I hoped I’d be able to suppress the urge forever, but... I kind of knew it was unlikely I’d be able to do that. Especially as alcohol turns me into a sexual deviant.” 

Louise sits back in her chair, her mouth falling open. Can Dan be saying what she thinks he’s saying? A shockwave splashes over her, soaking her in pure astonishment. 

“Are you telling me you have feelings for Phil?” 

Dan laughs, which baffles her. Then he stops, staring at her. “You’re serious?” 

Louise shrugs, nodding. 

“What the- how could you not have realised that, Louise?!” 

“Me?! You’ve never said!” 

Dan shoves his face into his hands, groaning. “Oh my God. What did you think was happening all those times I rang you complaining about how hot he was?” 

Louise casts her mind back through the many conversations she’s had with Dan about Phil, trying to see how she could have missed this. 

“I just thought you were mentioning it generally!” She cries, shrugging. “I tell you how hot Zoe is all the time!” 

Dan looks up at the ceiling, barking a laugh. “That’s not the same! I mean- I’ve talked to you about having sex dreams about him for fuck’s sake.” 

Again, this does not register as abnormal. “So? I’ve had tons of sex dreams about my friends. I’ve probably had one about you at some point. Same as I’ve probably had one about Darcy’s fifty-year-old music teacher! That does not mean I have feelings for either one of you!”

Dan apparently does not share this point of view, and refuses to let this drop. 

“I called you crying about it one time!” 

“You’re not the most emotionally stable person, Dan. I just thought-”

“What about when I told you I wear his clothes to feel close to him!?” 

“You’re quite possessive over one another in general.” Louise replies, sipping the last of her cappuccino. “Everyone knows you wear each other’s clothes. I didn’t think there was much to it. You’re best friends.” 

“Okay, whatever.” Dan says at last, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Somehow you missed the fact that I’m crazily, obsessively in love with my best friend and have been since I was seventeen.” 

“You’re...what?” 

Louise and Dan hear the voice at the same time, and freeze, their eyes boring into one another. Heck, Louise is not in love with the guy, but even she can recognise Phil’s voice without needing to look. 

God knows what Dan is thinking right now. 

Slowly, painfully, Dan turns, his face white and sickly. Louise drags her eyes to the space behind Dan, cringing slightly as she takes in the sight of Phil, equally as exhausted, standing just to the side of their table. 

His hair is messy, as though he’s been running his hands through it. His eyes are also surrounded by purplish dark circles. He’s not dressed for a cold winter morning, in a shirt and tight black jeans - probably what he wore to the party last night.

“Phil...” Dan says, trailing off at once. “I didn’t... I’m so sorry...”

“I’ve been looking for you all night.” Phil tells him, sounding wrecked. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” 

Dan shakes his head, mouth pressed into a tight line. “I couldn’t, Phil. I couldn’t bear it.” 

“Bear what?” 

“I couldn’t bear to hear you say you don’t...” Dan swallows, looking away. “That you don’t feel like I do. I was wrong to kiss you like that, I know. I just... you looked so... you always look so...”

Louise outright gasps when Phil leans in to kiss Dan. She claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she watches Dan’s eyes widen, then close. 

Christ, Louise thinks to herself, she really needs to pay better attention. These two have been crushing on one another this whole time? 

Phil draws away after a moment, and his eyes are shining with moisture. “Don’t run away this time, okay?” 

Dan sniffs, and a tear falls onto his cheek. He nods readily, seeming transfixed on Phil’s face. 

Phil smiles at him, tiredly, and finds his hand. Then, he turns to Louise, still smiling. 

“Sorry Lou, it’s really, really good to see you, but I think we need to get home.” Phil tells her apologetically. “Neither of us have slept, and we have... a lot of things to talk about.”

Louise nods, smiling broadly. Her own eyes sting with tears, her heart thumping with joy on their behalf. 

“Don’t worry, gorgeous.” Louise tells him, gesturing for him to go. “I’ll see you both soon. Go wrap each other up in blankets.” 

Phil nods, pulling Dan to his feet. Dan doesn’t resist. He allows Phil to lead him, like a trained puppy, speechless in the face of the situation. 

Phil reaches over to pluck the cherry from Dan’s plate before he goes, and deposits it into his mouth, smiling sheepishly at Louise. 

“Thanks for looking after him.” He tells her, and then gives her a small wave, leading Dan towards the exit, their hands still tightly clasped together. 

[h-eckers]

Confession

A/N: I strayed away from the request a bit just to follow a story line that I didn’t really plan, tbh (it just happened, I’m srry). I also switched up my style majorly for this just as an exercise, it’s in 3rd person and all but lemme know what you think and whether this is better, worse, or somewhere in between.

Request:  could you write about Jughead getting a call that the reader just got shitfaced at a party so he has to come get her and take care of her 

Word Count: 3,790 (whoops)

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing (lyk twice)

Confession. A single word somehow holding a million unspoken admissions. Everyone has something they want to confess, no matter if it be small and insignificant, or whether it be something so monumental and with such a great impact is shakes the world as you know it. No one is free of secrets, some they will never tell, and some they don’t want to keep.  Depending on who you were, it was either fortunate or dangerously unfortunate that in Riverdale, secrets weren’t secrets for long.

It was 2:13am, moments were passing by in seconds as he became absorbed in the latest information, the new instalment of his murder mystery. It was rendered all the more important now he had been called in as a suspect, and subsequently been lied for. It wasn’t just his neck on the line if this killer slipped by, Fred and Archie we’re in danger too, and that was unacceptable to him. So he sat in the dark, having commandeered Archie’s bed, typing out the words running through his mind at a speed almost faster than light, with laser focus.

Focus that was apparently dependant on lack of distraction, it shattered the moment his phone started buzzing against the bedside table, vibrating closer to the edge. He ignored it, let it ring out… The first time.

And the second.

And the third. 

On the first called, when the vibration started he stared at the three words he’d forced out since the first call had broken his concentration and growled. He reached over and snatched his mobile from the table top, pushing his laptop to the side.

4 missed calls  12 text messages  2 voicemails  All from Archie.

Jughead sighed in frustration, an evening spent crafting a novel wasn’t what his friends considered thrilling on a Saturday and so they’d all attended a party at Reggie’s house. As if the very term ‘party’ wasn’t enough of a turn off, the fact that it was at the home of his tormentor had been the final nail in the coffin for Jughead to decide he was, definitively, not going- much to the disdain of his friends.

Not that his concrete decision had deterred his friends from attempting to convince him into attendance, a plight that had continue even tonight, on the night of the party. They’d even pestered him a few hours into the parties commencement, but that had all stopped well before 11 and had only now re-emerged, with all 12 messages being some misspelled variation of “come to the party”. He assumed some high level of alcohol consumption had contributed to the sudden eagerness of his friend to force him out of the house. Still, with his concentration all but non-existent now, he played the first voice mail. 

“JUGGIEJUGGIEJUGGIE!!!” The deafening volume of the voice made him flinch, but what struck him most was that it wasn’t the voice of his childhood playmate Archie, so much as it was the drunken shrieking of someone he had never expected, “IT’S, UH, Y/N. YOU KNOW Y/N! I STOLE ARCHIEKIN’S PHONE BECAUSE HE WAS TRYING TO TEXT BETTY AND I SAID ‘NO, NO, NO’ BECAUSE I KNOW THAT’S A BAD IDEA BECAUSE I KNOW SHE USED TO BE IN LOOOOOVE WITH HIM!” she sung loudly into the receiver, her voice bubbling with intoxication. “SO HERE I AM, ON HIS PHONE, TALKING TO YOU MISTER JONES BECAUSE I WANTED TO AND YOUR NUMBER WAS FIRST!  BUT ANYWAY I WANTED TO TELL YOU THA-” The line went silent as the message timed out. Jughead sat in complete and unadulterated confusion as he tried to figure it out. Y/N hated him, as far as he could tell, and even a person as unobservant as Archie had pointed it out before. As far as the boy could remember, he’d done nothing to deserve her distaste but every interaction he’d had with her, however short, had ended in her rudeness and him walking away dumbfounded. So, why on earth had she called him, and what could she possibly have to tell him? And most importantly, when did she start calling him ‘Juggie’?

Both questions had him immediately playing the second messages for answers, “Juggie, can you please answer the phone.” Her voice had changed, the calls were two minutes apart and the tone of her voice had jumped from an elevated carelessness to something quiet and almost fearful. What prompted even further questioning was the fact that the message ended there, simple and enigmatic as this girl was mounting to be, when an hour ago he would believe that she simply hated him.

One thing was sure, no matter how she felt about him or how he felt about her, after the final message, he needed to make sure she was at least okay. He redialled the number, standing to pace the small room as he waited for an answer, and soon enough he received one. “JUG!” Archie’s voice was slurred and abrupt, again causing the raven haired boy to flinch away from his phone, “What’s up?!”

“Y/N called me from your phone.” He explained, slowing his words ever so slightly to be clear enough for his friend to understand through his inebriation, “She sounded upset, is she okay?”

“Y/N called you?” Archie snickered slightly, “That’s so weird because I was sure that she just hated you, like really really loathed you, like absolutely-”

“Yeah, I get it, Arch.” Jughead cut him off, sounding slightly frustrated by the red head.

“Right, well, she’s shitfaced, basically and now she’s dancing on a table singing Beyoncé, oh… Oh she took her shirt off.” He replied, slurring every word over a single syllable, “Can you come get her? I think she’s ready to go home.” He giggled quietly, he didn’t wait for a response from Jughead, and the line went dead as soon as he’d finished the question. 

“I guess so.” Jughead sighed heavily, staring at himself in the darkened screen of his phone, he was in his pyjamas, his hair was a mess from his fingers combing through it every five seconds to keep it from falling into his face, and he decided that he wouldn’t change however, she’d probably be too drunk to care anyway.

So at 2:45am Jughead Jones staggered downstairs and grabbed the keys to Fred’s truck from the counter, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in his back. It was freezing, it had been bleak weather at best for weeks and this night was no different, the cold mist that fell before rain stuck to his skin as soon as he walked outside and in the few steps it took to get to the truck he was already chilled to his bones. He started the engine and sat in the car for a while, breathing deeply as the heater kicked in and started to warm him, by the time he pulled out of the driveway he’d warmed up again but the tiredness that had been creeping up on him for hours was setting in with the warmth. 

The drive between Archie’s house and Reggie’s was surprisingly lengthy, or perhaps it was the late hour and the sleepy haze that was setting in on the writer, either way he arrived eventually and stopped outside. He could hear the music shaking the floor boards of the house, the sound flowing from what seemed to be an over excessive amount of speakers. There were a few drunken teenagers milling around on the front lawn, smoking, or talking, or emptying their stomachs after one to many shots.

Did he want to walk into the house right now? Definitely not.

Was he going to? Unfortunately yes.

And why? All for the sake of a girl he didn’t know and who didn’t like him.

As he approached, the music only get louder and louder, the smell of alcohol became near overpowering, and the heat of too many bodies crammed into one space washed over him as he opened the door to the crowded living room. Almost every person from the school that he could remember seeing was jammed into that space, dancing against each other, it might have looked fun if it didn’t look so depraved. He tried to locate Y/N before entering the crowd and when he did he couldn’t decide whether it was a good or bad thing, on one had she was easy to spot and she wasn’t dancing against anyone he’d have to pull her away from, on the other hand, she was dancing on a table in a shirt jersey that wasn’t hers. Great.

Weaving through the familiar bodies, he got halfway to her and got blocked by a couple who couldn’t seem to breathe without their lips attached, he stood idle in the sea of people, his eyes glued to her swaying figure so he didn’t lose her in the crowd. Or at least that was part of the reason. If he were to be entirely truthful (which he would admit he never really was), he would admit that he’d be observing her for a while now, if you asked him why he’d give the same reason he gave for observing anyone; Jason blossom, but that wouldn’t explain the way he’d always gravitated towards her before he ever disappeared. How unfortunate that the girl that had interested him for so long, also happened to be someone who despised him. Her treatment of him didn’t enter his mind now, however, as he watched her swing her hips to the beat of an unknown song that was playing too loud, her hair was wild and so were her eyes as she swayed and sang to the ceiling like the gods were listening. For anyone else he’d be certain they weren’t listening, but for her, they might.

He was removed from his little trance when someone pushed passed him, almost knocking him into several other people who honestly wouldn’t have cared, but it distracted him enough to allow him to keep pushing through people to get the edge of the table where she was dancing, “Y/N!” He was sure his voice was being drowned out by the music, he reached out and grabbed her hand gently as it moved by him, and she looked down and smiled so bright the room must have gotten three times brighter.

“Juggie!” She called over the music, getting down off the table rather ungracefully, stumbling as soon as her feet his the ground, her only stability coming from the boy in front of her, his arms around her waist to keep her upright, “You’re stronger than you look.” She complimented, tapping the end of his nose softly with one finger as he’d already started heading towards the door, his hand finding hers to pull her towards the exit.

There wasn’t a response from him, all his focus was on getting himself and her out of there uninjured and moderately unscathed, she seemed to be walking okay behind him but as soon as they were outside he turned to her, concerned eyes tracing every feature of her to make sure she was okay. “Are you alright?” He asked, lifting her arms to check she was okay.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was quiet and gentle now, away from the music and the people, he smiled involuntarily. Jughead had never heard her voice quite like that, he liked it on her.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbled, taking her hand again and leading her away towards Fred’s truck.

“Car theft,” she said simply, smirking a little as she climbed into the vehicle and snuggled comfortably into the seat, Jughead jumped in the other side, looking over at her drunk and tired eyes, “and all for me? What a gentleman you are.” She whispered, his breath caught slightly in his throat and his heart did something odd in his chest as he tried to respond. He didn’t. He simply started the car and pulled out on to the empty road.

“Where do you live?” He asked, shifting nervously in his seat.

“The next street over from Archie’s,” She responded, distant, in her own world, or, in other words, completely drunk, “all the way at the end of the street, in the white house with the big dark roof and the little red door.” She sung to herself, her attention focused out the window.

“Are you feeling alrig-“ He began, but she cut him off, speaking again in her distant gentle voice that he was beginning to really like.

“Everything goes so fast,” She hummed, tracing her name in the fog on the window, “nothing ever slows down to let you catch up, and you end up running so fast breathing feels like sandpaper in your lungs because you just want to catch up and you cant. So, you stop, and you try to breathe and you get swept away into something you never wanted, but the currents so strong you can’t fight it, even if it means letting go of something important.”

After her voice trailed off, silence settled in around them quickly, she kept staring at the road disappearing behind them quicker every moment, and he tried to adjust to her words. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see her as the girl who hated him, and easier to fall into how he’d always seen her; beautiful, hopeless, and endlessly fascinating. “I don’t hate you.” Her voice broke the silence and he looked over at her momentarily, this time she was looking back, a gentle smile on her face.

“You sure?” He chuckled, looking back at the road, “You really seem to, and I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation before this where you weren’t rude to me.”

“It’s because I like you.” She responded, genuinely.

“You have a weird way of showing it.” He pointed out, scoffing slightly. She only nodded in response, because it was true.

“That’s because I also hate you.” She mumbled, shuffling down in her seat.

“So we’re being confusing tonight, I see.”

“It’s the alcohol,” she argued, “I’m usually very concise, and generally secretive. If it weren’t for that last drink, I doubt I’d even have called you.”

“So, you like me but you hate me?” He inquired, glancing again to her with a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile, they spoke in hushed voices, as though being too loud would split the very earth in front of them.

“I do,” She confirmed, hiccupping softly, “I’ve had a crush on you since the second grade and it never went away, but you intimidate me.”

“Well, I’m an investigative writer,” he sighed again, his shoulders falling as he exhaled, “intimidating is in bold print at the top of the job description.”

“You mean your little blue and gold thing?” She giggled, “No, not that, I think that’s kinda sexy, you’re so demanding.” Jughead almost choked on the air he was breathing right there, but he managed to at least appear unaffected, “No, I meant just you, actually you, like your novel and all the things you are. I’m a bitch to you because if you think I hate you then you’ll leave me to wallow in my self-pity because I’m not good enough for you.”

You intimidate me because you’re smart, and you’re strong, and you’re so fucking gorgeous and I just- I forget how to function around you unless I’m off my face drunk apparently. I can promise I wouldn’t be saying any of this if I’d remember it in the morning. I won’t though, so it’s okay.“

He couldn’t speak, the words weren’t forming in his head the way they we’re meant to, the right sentence would appear and then vanish the moment he opened his mouth to utter it. “God, is this how you feel all the time.” He finally gushed, the words weren’t at all what he wanted to say but they we’re something, “Like stringing words into sentences is basically impossible? I’m a writer and I can’t find the words, I do this to you?”

“Worse.” She stated, simple and absolutely shattering, he couldn’t imagine being rendered this way by a person at all ten minutes ago but he sat bewildered and incompetent right now, wondering how she suffered this every single day. “I’m a photographer, and the best way I can describe it is that I’m pressing the button but the shutter won’t click and when it finally does the pictures blurry. I can hear the words in my head, but I can’t say them, something rude or defensive falls out instead. It sucks.”

It astounded him to find out that this woman beside him, spoke so eloquently and somehow only alcohol could calm her nerves enough for him to see that. Even now he could see the anxious lines forming on her face as the silence stretched between them, the doubt crept up on her even now and he was grasping for something to say yet again. It was a feeling he hated, words came so simply and lyrically to him that fighting for what to say just felt unnatural, and he was teetering the edge of saying what he wanted to, and saying what was appropriate. “I write about you sometimes.” He blurted out on an exhale, almost flinching at the sound of his own voice.

“You write about everyone,” she hummed, “enigmatic bitch is basically a stock character in murder mysteries. I’m just filling the character profile.”

“No, completely separate from that.” He admitted, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles drained of colour, this is one confession he’d never planned to come to light, but at least she wouldn’t remember it in the morning, “Early last year, before Jason, I looked at you and I realised I had seen you almost every single day of my life since I was five years old and somehow I knew nothing about you. So I tried to talk to you, but you weren’t exactly welcoming that idea.” He chuckled a little and she smiled at him. 

“So?” She prompted him to continue, and he did.

“So, I started writing about you, I started digging, investigating. I wanted to know who you we’re and I dug deeper and deeper.”

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing,” he sounded defeated even now, “everything down to your school records are clean. You were the first thing I couldn’t figure out, but the weird part was I didn’t mind, because it meant I could keep looking.” He paused, the blushing girl beside him was unable to still her heart that was almost pounding out of her chest, “Then everything happened with Jason and I got interested and it fell to the side, but I go back to you whenever I get stuck.”

“What will you do now?” She asked softly, “Now that I’ve told you, I’m not a mystery anymore. Where will you go when you get stuck?”

By the time she’d finished speaking they’d pulled up outside her house, the one with the red door exactly as she’d described and the conversation ended, ended without answer, not necessarily because either of them wanted it to end but simply because she was home, and he had no idea how to answer that question. Jughead pulled himself out of the car and walked around to her door, opening it for her and helping her out, they wandered up the path slowly, his arm around her waist to steady her as she staggered slightly. “Are your parents’ home?” he asked quietly, brushing her hair back out of her face as she nodded.

“Yup, right upstairs, probably dreaming of a less dysfunctional marriage.” She shrugged and he chuckled a little.

“You good to get to your room? Seems like you’ve sobered up a bit.” He added and she giggled.

“I am good to get to my room and I’m talking to you right now so, no, I’m not sober at all.” She deducted quickly, nodding once.

“Maybe you’re just getting comfortable around me.” He suggested and she shook her head.

“No, I’m not gonna remember this at all in the morning, I am drunk as a skunk and I can promise you that, Mister Jones.” She ran her hands through her dishevelled hair in an attempt to tame it.

“Do you promise?” his voice got low for a moment and he stepped forward, she didn’t move, let him get closer to her.

“I swear.” She nodded once.

“Good.” He whispered, leaning in and joining their lips softly. Her reaction was instant, her hands moved to the side of his neck, thumbs running softly along his jawline as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. It felt like the world stopped existing, just for a second, his entire world became her and hers became him and it was perfect. It felt perfect and it ended too quickly, she pulled away from him and smiled as she stepped back, leaning against her door.

“I wish I didn’t have to forget this.” She hummed, smiling pleasantly. His brow furrowed in a slight frustration and something close to concern. She unlocked the door after fumbling with the key for a moment and opened it slowly and as quietly as possible.

“I could always remind you.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as she sighed and wandered into the house a few steps, leaning against the door she was still holding.

“As much as I would love that, I would never believe you.” She mumbled, a humourless smirk crossing her face, “Thank you for coming to get me, and for the talk, and the kiss. I’ll miss you.” She hummed, blowing him a kiss and shutting the door so she could stagger up the stairs. He walked away from her house speechless again and smiling to himself.

Somehow this night had answered so many of his questions and yet it had raised a million new ones, his heart wouldn’t beat normally even if he tried to force it and all over a girl who wouldn’t even remember in the morning. As he got back into the truck, he sighed heavily and relaxed into the seat and just sat for a moment, thinking.

Secrets can be a dangerous thing, and confessions even more so. There are somethings that need to be said but can’t be, and there are other things that shouldn’t be revealed that are forced into the light. Now, Jughead Jones was plagued by another secret he’d never intended to have; if there was one thing in the world that he wanted, he wanted her to remember.

The next morning Y/N would awake to a new secret of her own; she did.

[spacednp]

Okay (Part 1)

MULTICHAPTERED VAMPIRE AU BASED LIGHTLY OFF OF PLACENTAANDLLAMA’s FIC COMING OF AGE (WITH PERMISSION)

TW: blood, gore, angst? kinda? Phil's pretty dominant of Dan... just read it bc the bit of BAMF!Phil makes it so it'll be good lol also Dan's such a bottom in this oml (no smut tho srry)

WC: 12k for the entire fic

Dan shook himself awake, shivering even though he wasn't cold. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by darkness. But for some reason he didn't feel like he was in his comfortable bed in his dark room. Part of him began to panic, what was happening? Was he blind? Oh God, who did this to him? Then he felt the cloth tied tightly around his head and his breathing calmed a bit. He felt his heart hammering in his chest but he forced himself calm. In for seven, out for eleven. He needed to assess the situation and not make any conclusions until he did, or else he'd just freak himself out.

There was a screeching sound and Dan was thrown back. He felt the back of his head and rest of his body slam into something. So he was sitting down, useful information, he also assumed this was a car of some sort as he heard car horns in the distance and the sound of cars zooming. He felt a tug at his wrists and realized they were tied to something above his head. There goes the possibility of undoing his blindfold.

"Shit!" Someone hissed, a female by the sound of it. The voice came from his left side, so he assumed that it was the driver's or the person's in shotgun (he couldn't really tell) and he was sitting with his back to the wall and on his right side was the back of what he assumed was a van as he could stretch his feet out in this car.

"Can you be more careful? You're going to hurt him!" This voice sounded deeper, a males voice. It also sounded closer to Dan than the first, coming from in front of him. Dan realized he wasn't gagged and opened his mouth to scream, but felt a cold hand press to his mouth amazingly quickly before his vocal cords could produce a sound. He felt warm breath in his ear and he shivered as it grazed his neck. "I managed to convince them to not gag you, if you scream, we'll have to though. Be good, yeah?" The deep northern accent whispered. Dan nodded once. If this kidnapper was at all nicer than the others Dan wanted him to believe Dan was on his side. Maybe then he'd let Dan go soon, where the others might not. It was risky, but it was the closest thing to a plan Dan had at the moment. The icy hand was removed from Dan's mouth and he clamped it shut, not making as much as a whimper.

"Chris?" The female voice questioned. Dan expected the male in front of him to respond, but it turned out there was another male in front with the girl who answered instead.

"What?" The other man, also with a northern accent, hissed. Actually hissed. These people seemed mental, actually insane. The man in front of Dan made a shuffling sound, as if he was looking through a backpack of some sort.

"Are you sure this... is the right thing to do?" The female asked. He heard the male in front, Chris, sigh before responding. Right thing to do? Those people kidnapped him for Gods sake! Of course it wasn't the right thing to do!

"Of course it is Louise, the clan need this, they come first. Always. Now, shut up and let me drive, I need to concentrate unless you want me to drive into a tree," Chris said, sounding annoyed with the female, Louise, he'd called her. Dan continued to listen for Louise's reply, still vaguely aware of the shuffling sound in front of him.

"I don't see why we couldn't just let Phil drive! He's so much better than you," Louise whined. Dan heard the person in front of him scoff, as if the statement was so ridiculous it amused him.

"Phil needed to be in the back with the boy to comfort him and stuff," Chris said as if it was obvious. The Dan in front of Dan hummed in agreement and he assumed that the man was named Phil, as both mentioned that name and he was the one 'back comforting him'.

"If I were you two I'd shut the fuck up before you worry our little guest," The man in front of Dan, Phil, said loudly and with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "This is why I don't do jobs with Fours," Something about the way Phil said the word 'Fours' made Dan think it needed to be capitalized, a descriptive word rather than a number.

Dan wanted to speak up, to ask questions, but he didn't because he was honestly afraid of the people who kidnapped him. Which was acceptable, honestly. Of course he'd be scared of people who probably only wanted to hurt him. Why else would they pull him out of bed as he slept? There was no other reason than to hurt him, and Dan knew that. But why didn't they yet? Were they so sadistic they wanted to torture the young man before killing him?

"Louise here is still a Three," Chris corrected, earning a whine form the female. Phil scoffed again. "Anyway, you only became a Five last moon, you're not too ahead of me,"

"I doubt you'll make it to Five, you drive so recklessly," Phil snapped back. Dan slid his bottom lip in between his teeth, a bad force of habit. "No! Don't do that," Phil gasped and Dan felt the cold hand on his mouth again. What? Why was this guy yelling at Dan for biting his lip? It's not like he was hurting anyone (except maybe himself a little). Dan furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, taking his lip out of his mouth. The van swerved a bit and a sharp ringing noise filed the air as the van drove on the shoulder of the road for a few seconds before the driver corrected it.

"What did he do?" The female asked. Dan agreed with her. What did he do? Phil growled a little before removing his icy finger from Dan's face and sat back again, but Dan felt his gaze still burning into him.

"Bit his lip," Phil replied. The woman gasped and Dan would of rolled his eyes if it had any effect on anything. His arms were starting to hurt from being held up over his head for so long but he didn't say anything, yet.

"He didn't break the skin, yeah?" Louise questioned. Why did that matter? Were they selling Dan into some sextrafficing ring that had something against bloody lips?

"Idiot, of course not! If he drew blood Phil would be all over him by now!" Chris retorted hotly. Dan wondered what that meant. Did Phil have some bloody lip kink or something?

"You retards are confusing him," Phil snapped. "Now shut up, I'm taking his blindfold off to explain to him," Both Louise and Chris gasped quietly as if Dan getting an explanation as to why he was being held hostage was a bad idea.

Dan felt Phil's cold hands on him again as he untied his blindfold. Dan wanted to bite his lip again, but remembered their reaction to it so forced himself not to. His eyes adjusted slowly to the low lighting as his eyes focused.

It was definitely the back of a van, one with tinted windows so only minimal street light poured in through the windows. Two sets of chains, four in total, hung from the metal ceiling, the ones in front of Dan unoccupied. There wasn't much space in the back of the van, it was about the size of a small coat closet, maybe a little bigger with a roof no where near as high as a closet's. Dan assumed it was still nighttime still and was very glad that night was on of the few where he wore pajamas to bed instead of sleeping in just his boxers.

Phil, in front of him, was hard to make out in the dimly lit van, but Dan was shocked at what he saw. Phil had messy black fringe and piercing plus eyes. He also was dressed in black from head to toe. However, the more suppressing things were things like how gray and lifeless his skin was, lacking the healthy glow humans usually carried. Dan had seen a dead person once, at his grandmothers funeral, and her lifeless face still haunted his dreams at night, but that was different. She was covered in makeup and looked no where near this. Then there were his fangs. They were blindingly white and didn't poke out of his mouth but were without a doubt there as he smiled weakly. Dan muffled a gasp.

"What?" He whimpered. He knew he shouldn't of spoke, but this wasn't a human in front of him. He knew that. Only once word came to mind, vampire. It made no sense, but at the same time Dan had never been more sure of anything in his life. This thing in front of him was a vampire.

Dan had seen movies with vampires in them, even read a couple of the Twilight books, but nothing could prepare himself for this. Those were just stories created by Hollywood in an attempt to connect to young teen girls. Everyone loved a good vampire story, but not when it was happen to him. He didn't want to be a real life Bell or whatever that chick who wasn't into human dudes name was. He was Dan, a gay and slightly feminine geeky teen boy who was into humans, not matter how hot the creature in front of him was. What? No. Dan was not going to submit into having a stupid crush on a kidnapper that may or may not be undead.

"You have questions? I can respect that," Phil stated nonchalantly, reaching for a black backpack that sat next to him. He picked it up and through the black blindfold in his hand into it before retreating a golden key out of it. "You want your cuffs off?" Phil asked Dan, holding up the key and raising an eyebrow. Dan nodded fiercely, causing Phil to chuckled. He leaned forward, seemingly not effected by the speed of the moving van and unclipping Dan's left wrist first. Dan was surprised by how Phil didn't smell like a rotting caucus but strangely like vanilla. Phil then unlocked Dan's right wrist and Dan's barely had enough time to say 'thank you' before Chris stepped on the gas and casing Dan to fall to the right, but before he slammed into the metal floor of the van he was scooped up in Phil's arms at lightning speed. Dan noticed how Phil smelt like vanilla again as he was pressed into Phil's chest. He also noticed how Phil had no heart beat, and that frankly freaked him out.

"Sorry," Chris called out. Phil made a growling sound deep in his throat before setting Dan upright. He held onto Dan's shoulder and studied his face for a minute too long before removing his touch completely and sitting next to Dan, on his right side, preventing Dan from falling over again.

"You'd better watch yourself, Kendall," Phil relied, leaning into Dan to keep him upright. Dan refused and leaned to the left slightly, but was slammed back into Phil as Chris sped up again. Phil hissed slightly and Dan tried to right himself but Phil did it for him, wrapping his left arm around his waist to steady him at the speed of light. The myth of vampires being remarkably fast was actually true, Dan noted.

"Ohh, Chris you're so dead," Louise giggled. "You just upset the clans most powerful Five," Dan rolled his eyes but was remarkably aware that Phil hadn't removed his arm yet, though he definitely could. Phil leaned over to Dan and began to whisper in his ear, and Dan really wished he wouldn't.

"Five is the highest level, when a vampire is born, or turned, they start as a Zero and have to earn each level after that, it takes hundreds and thousands of years," He explained. His warm breath making Dan shiver. "I'm sure you have guessed by now that we aren't human, you seem too smart to think this is all in your head,"

"Am I aloud to talk now?" Dan asked softly. He heard Phil chuckle lightly in his ear and Dan almost whimpered at the sound. Phil was way too close for comfort.

"Yes," Phil answered, warm breath tickling Dan's neck. Dan really didn't like him being this close.

"Why am I here?" Dan questioned, my caring about anything other than the answer to that question. What did these things want with him? Phil pulled away from him and unwrapped his arm from Dan's waist.

"Anything but that," Phil said, seeming uncomfortable with the topic. Dan whined softly, upset that was eating at him the most wouldn't be answered. Chris sped up again but this time Phil was prepared and leaned against Dan so he wouldn't fall.

"The sun is rising," Phil said to Dan, knowing that the brown haired teen probably was wondering why Chris sped up so suddenly and why Phil didn't protest this time. Dan nodded once, assuming that the vampires had something against sunlight. Probably like in the movies, sunlight hurt them. Dan decided to ask, why not?

"Does sunlight kill your or something?" Dan asked. Phil chuckled softly.

"Kind of, I can take it a little, but those idiots fry up like bacon in thirty seconds," Phil replied, gesturing to the front of the van where the other two vampires sat.

"How do you kill a vampire?" Dan pressed. He just wanted to know how much Hollywood got wrong.

"What? You want to kill me or something?" Phil teased before answering Dan's question. "Only a few things can kill a vampire, not having a mate by the time they reach Level Five is the biggest one, but being stabbed in the heart is the runner up. Some things annoy us, sun is a major one, it even kills the lower levels, followed by silver, garlic, and hunger,"

"Are you mated?" Dan asked just because he was curious and remembered hearing the other two calling Phil a Five. Phil sighed softly and tuned to Dan, looking him in the eye. Dan melted into Phil's blue gaze.

"No," He said. Dan gasped. It was like finding out someone has a serious illness and was dying, but with someone who Dan thought was going to kill him not too long ago, that was also a vampire.

"Are you..?" Dan's voice trailed off meaningfully. Phil laughed weakly and without humor and scratched the back of his neck nervously. There was something here Dan was missing, he just knew it. He hoped Phil out explain it to him.

"Phil if you don't tell him I will," Louise declared from the front and Phil glared in the direction her voice came from, lips pressed together tightly.

"I'll do it," Phil sighed. He looked around the van, not looking at Dan's face. "I needed a human to mate with and the clan can't survive if I die and well..." Dan gasped, moving away from Phil, not caring if he fell over. He pressed his side in the nearest seat to them which was empty but still there.

"No..." He breathed. Then he repeated it louder this time. "No," Phil's face was grave, sadness covering his features. Dan didn't believe that he was really upset though.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," Phil said weakly. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to, but the clan-" Dan cut him of, voice shaking with anger.

"What about me? I don't give a damn about your clan! What about me?" Dan yelled. Phil looked down. He shook his head slowly. Dan didn't want to cry, but that's when he did. He began the sob, shaking with the effort. "I hate you and your stupid clan!" He cried, pushing his hands to his face to shield himself form the monster before him. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see him family. He wanted away from Phil.

"Dan, you need to calm down," Phil said calmly. Dan shook his head and pushed his hands deeper into his face, still shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "Please, Dan," Dan didn't know how Phil knew his name and he didn't care.

"No!" Dan yelled. He gasped for air in between sobs, warm tears flowing from his eyes onto his checks and hands. He didn't care though.

Dan was quickly pushed to the ground and when he looked up he saw Phil's icy blue eyes. Both his hands were pined above his head with one of Phil's, and Phil was far too strong for Dan to struggle. He glared up at Phil with hatred in his eyes. "I didn't want to do this, but I need you to calm down, if you don't-" Dan cut him off.

"What are you going to do? Rape me? Isn't that already what you have planned?" Dan said harshly. In the hand that Phil wasn't pinning Dan down with he held a syringe filled with an unknown green liquid.

"Goodnight, Dan," Phil said flatly as he injected Dan in the neck with the unknown liquid. Dan slowly went limp as he drifted unconscious.

NEXT